One of the drawbacks of living on a property surrounded by forest is the nightly visitations from various furry critters. Very cute to observe but destructive to the garden, in particular those plants we are trying to nurture. For some reason, after 17 years of being ignored, they decided at the beginning of winter to dine at the bonsai buffet. The brush-tailed possums are not petite creatures and inadvertently damage branches while feasting. We immediately created some temporary protection while searching for a more permanent solution. Not pretty but it did the job.
When our new cover arrived (Maze products to the rescue again), we moved the bonsai inside
and set about modifying the stand so the cover would fit.
We removed the shelves and trimmed off one end of the top level,
placed a new base to support the frame
and replaced the original shelves.
Supporting brackets were added to the new base
and the frame sat perfectly in place.
We fit the cover and tied it to the frame and the base,
the front opens up for easy access.
The small birds would enjoy a bath and drink from the shallow water dish when it was on the open shelf so we created a new spot so they don’t miss out.
Michael is a happy camper once more
and we are hopeful the Japanese maple will recover.
After many years exposed to the Tasmanian elements, the timber edging along our blackberry patch was starting to crumble. We had erected a temporary protective net that we have been meaning to upgrade for the same number of years.
Last winter, we purchased a couple of garden tunnels and finally got around to it. The new edging was laid with space to allow for the depth of the new covers
followed by plastic to discourage weeds and grass growth.
We filled in with soil
and a hefty layer of mulch.
Job done!
Or not. Our measurements hadn’t allowed for the 100mm skirt around the base of the covers. Back to the drawing board. We moved the edging another 200mm
and repeated the filling process. A new frame was added to support the training wires and the first cover fit like a glove.
With both tunnels in place
the canes were fixed to the wires, ready for some warmer weather.
We had a bumper crop this year, a few kilos of berries still being harvested at the end of April.
When we decided to plant a micro vineyard two years ago, we didn’t really anticipate the devious, destructive determination of the local possum population. Despite four lines of electric fence, to a height of 1.4 metres, delivering 5,000 volts to any unsuspecting creature coming into contact with it, the pesky possums continued to make ingress. They managed to elude the motion detection cameras we set up, denying us any hope of targeting their entry points. We tried using bird spikes without success and finally conceded the only solution was to create a ‘floppy fence’ around the whole perimeter. I had my reservations about this due to the aesthetics, especially on the garden side but we had no choice. We started on the fence line along the paddock so we could modify our system, depending on the outcome, before getting to the garden line.
We came up with the idea of using the electric fence outriggers we had stashed in the shed to support the wire.
The usual level of swearage ensued as we fought with the wire and wind but the result is actually quite neat.
The second paddock line followed
and we turned our attention to the garden side. We opted for a firmer wire for the sake of neatness but stayed with our method using the outriggers.
I have to admit, it doesn’t look as ugly as I thought it would.
We did the same for the line along the driveway,
joined them at the corner and then finished the gates in the same way.
I am very pleased to report there has been no evidence of possum pandemonium since completion and hopefully, after pruning the vines this winter, we will see substantial growth in spring.
Michael developed a fascination with all things Japanese in his mid twenties and so began his interest in the art of bonsai. When we met, fifteen years later, he came as a package deal and his beloved bonsai found a home in a sunny spot under the pergola of our suburban backyard.
Five years on, we moved to a property in the Adelaide Hills and one of the first items we added to the garden was a shade house to protect the bonsai from unpredictable weather. (It did become airborne in one particular storm but, fortunately, no bonsai were harmed. We then concreted the corner posts into the ground.)
Fast forward another seven years and we made the bold decision to relocate to Tasmania. By this stage, there were over forty bonsai to consider in varying stages of evolution. There were strict biosecurity rules for entry into Tasmania, any potted plants had to be fumigated by a registered authority and sealed until arrival across the creek. Sadly, all but four were sold or given away and the remaining plants travelled with us on the Spirit of Tasmania to their new abode. More specimens have been procured and nurtured since our arrival but they have been somewhat “out of sight” in various spots around the garden.
After years of planning and procrastinating, the new bonsai stand was finally created last winter.
The little trees received some long overdue attention with pruning, root trimming and re-potting.
Let me introduce you to the collection. The radiata pine was given to Michael by someone who no longer wanted to continue with bonsai, and the three sticks on the right are English oaks that had self-seeded on a friends property at Table Cape.
Spring brought verdancy to the oaks but, regrettably, the radiata failed to thrive.
The origin of this liquidambar is uncertain (meaning forgotten) but, despite resembling a twig in winter, it perked up once the warmer weather arrived.
We have a huge holly tree in the garden from which we occasionally find young saplings, the perfect source to experiment with bonsai. So far, this one is a success.
I bought Michael this olive as a gift nearly thirty years ago. He re-trained it and it is one of the chosen few who came from South Australia with us.
The ash tree is quite spectacular. Liberated from between two pavers on a suburban footpath in the mid 80s, Michael trained the roots around a rock before planting in a deep pot. The roots were then gradually exposed and this is the result.
The oldest exhibit in the collection is a copse of English elms. One of the original seven died in transport to Tasmania but there are two new saplings growing in the grove and one will be nurtured to reinstate the preferred uneven number.
The dwarf camellia has done well and produced a beautiful pink flower last year.
Perhaps the hardiest of them all is the Japanese maple. Firstly created as a bonsai, it was then planted in the garden to enable it to reach its full potential. That wasn’t to be when the neighbours horses reached over the fence and ate most of it. Reclaiming it into a pot seemed the kindest thing to do, now we just need to find a way to stop the nocturnal wildlife having a nibble.
The Australian blackwood was gifted at the same time as the radiata but has fared considerably better. Several root suckers have emerged and will hopefully result in a miniature blackwood forest.
Dogwood trees are prolific in our forest and Michael took these three from the path to see if they could become bonsai. I’d say it was a successful experiment.
With the Japanese Buddhas enjoying themselves at the watering hole,
The compost bays we constructed when we created the veggie patch have slowly suffered the same fate as the raised beds. Two years ago we resurrected the beds to prevent further deterioration of the timbers and now it was time to do the same for these bays.
After much brainstorming, we decided the sensible thing was to buy ready made compost bins that would out live and look better than anything we could build. The three 600 litre bins were delivered and we wasted no time unpacking them.
Assembly was ridiculously easy,
site preparation took a little longer. We emptied the contents of the first bay into wheel barrows and demolished the structure, saving any timbers worthy for future use.
The new bin fit the space perfectly and the half-composted material was shovelled in.
Potatoes were harvested from the random growth in the second bay before that, too, was emptied and demolished.
It didn’t take long to position the remaining two bins, replace the contents and admire our work.
