Monday, 5 December 2011
Wednesday, 23 November 2011
DOG TRAINING
DOG TRAINING LESSON No. 365
Never, under any circumstances, leave your Barbour to air in the garage overnight......unless of course you are secretly hankering for a new one!! ; )
Never, under any circumstances, leave your Barbour to air in the garage overnight......unless of course you are secretly hankering for a new one!! ; )
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
BEWARE BANANA THIEVES AT LARGE....
Just a quick addition to yesterday's musings on banana growing. Wherever there is abundance there will always be those who feel they have the right to simply take what is not theirs.
This quiet corner of St Lucia is no exception and we have to be vigilant at all times to get to our hard-earned spoils before another snatches them from our mouths.....I refer to these dispicable characters as the Banana Bandits! Though in reality they could equally be dubbed the "guava grabbers" and even the "dasheen diggers" (the latter being a starchy yam-like root, that they dig and eat raw). Perhaps a cover-all would simply be the Canine Kelptomaniacs, for in reality they will help themselves to whatever they can.
During guava season, George & Ilsa will pass the two trees that grow low to the ground and check the fruit every morning but will never touch them until they reach the fragrant, perfumed stage where they take on a flush of delicate pink....when that happens, it's every man (and dog) for himself and a case of the early bird (dog, (wo)man) catches the worm!
Joking aside, it is my firm belief that this is not an act of wanton greed, but instead that this clever pair of canines carry some sort of deep, in-built ability to seek, find and devour precisely what they need to counteract the deficiencies of commercially produced dog food. An upset tummy will always lead them straight to the nearest fruiting banana tree....
This quiet corner of St Lucia is no exception and we have to be vigilant at all times to get to our hard-earned spoils before another snatches them from our mouths.....I refer to these dispicable characters as the Banana Bandits! Though in reality they could equally be dubbed the "guava grabbers" and even the "dasheen diggers" (the latter being a starchy yam-like root, that they dig and eat raw). Perhaps a cover-all would simply be the Canine Kelptomaniacs, for in reality they will help themselves to whatever they can.
During guava season, George & Ilsa will pass the two trees that grow low to the ground and check the fruit every morning but will never touch them until they reach the fragrant, perfumed stage where they take on a flush of delicate pink....when that happens, it's every man (and dog) for himself and a case of the early bird (dog, (wo)man) catches the worm!
Joking aside, it is my firm belief that this is not an act of wanton greed, but instead that this clever pair of canines carry some sort of deep, in-built ability to seek, find and devour precisely what they need to counteract the deficiencies of commercially produced dog food. An upset tummy will always lead them straight to the nearest fruiting banana tree....
Sunday, 20 November 2011
THE TREE MAN COMETH...
Whilst I pride myself on being able to manage most things around the place (I'm still beaming from single-handedly installing my new gas stove this week), I am always pleased to see Trevor, my trusty gardener, when he comes to give a hand with weeding, grass cutting and pruning.
In the same way that produce is shared, so too are seeds and saplings. If I've enjoyed a particularly good eat at my parent's place, there is no better, or more economical way than to "adopt" a sapling from the tree that provided this bounty, in the hope that in time, I too will be producing such gems (this doesn't always happen when you take saplings, but it's certainly worth a try, particularly when these are freely available and free of charge).
Although my dear old Dad, now 84, conducts a daily walk around the garden to check his fruit, occasionally, during a high wind or stormy weather, a prize specimen will drop, roll away to some far corner and take root. This was certainly the case after the hurricane last year and down in the undergrowth, seven fallen coconuts took root and proceeded to grow. My father was more than pleased to be able to pass these on to me. As they all came from one tree (it is the only coconut tree on that side of his garden), I tend to think of them as the seven sisters. These have been planted in a row along the perimeter of the veg garden which I now refer to as "The Garden of the Seven Sisters"; I have no doubt that some local folk, being rather superstitious, will believe this name is based in some sort of magic... magical - definitely, but magic - not as far as I know.
On previous occasions, my father and his helper, Mr Johnson, have appeared three days before Full Moon, armed with other saplings looking for a new home and I have always been happy to welcome them. My entire banana collection has come from my father's garden. Bananas grow, flower and produce fruit in a rather quick cycle and then the lead shoot dies, so is usually removed immediately after the fruit has been harvested. But all is not lost, for whilst the lead shoot has been busy making bananas, she has put in place a cunning succession plan, one which many large corporations could learn a great deal from. For she leaves behind two or three "daughters" in various stages of growth, ready to take her place. The clump is known colloquially as "mother and daughters" and can either be left to create one huge clump or daughters can be encouraged to leave home and move to pastures new. A simple sharp spade to the base with cleanly remove a daughter. A truly amazing growth process that keeps us in an abundance of bananas (and plantains) the whole year round.
Despite all the years of cumulative knowledge and treemanship, occasionally, it is necessary to bring in other tree specialists. It recently became obvious that some of the very large, older trees that I managed to save from the excavator during the land clearance and house-build, were in need of some attention and for this I called in some local tree men. I had seen tree specialists around the place, with their hoists, hard hats and chain saws - however, these were not they! Recommended by Trevor the gardener, these guys came down from the country for the day. In a random episode in my previous life, I had been obliged to study for a Health & Safety qualification, so thought I had a reasonable idea of how such a project should be undertaken. As it transpired this training had no relevance whatsoever to the events that would unfold. The best options were to either close my eyes or go inside until the work was completed.
These guys climbed trees 40ft - 60ft tall, with no ropes, harnesses, hard hats or steel toe-capped boots. Armed simply with machetes and with bare feet, they clambered to the top of each tree, which incidentally are full of stinging ants and other unpleasant inhabitants, and proceeded to hack away, moving down the tree until the desired height and shape were obtained. And so they worked, creating a sense of calm that all was well and this is how things had been done for generations. THEN came the hysterical shouting......they had disturbed a bee's nest and were flying down out of the tree as though on a greased fireman's pole! The following scene of these two grown men running around the garden whilst one manically swished himself with a cut branch was just too close to an old Laurel & Hardy movie to be taken seriously. I tried my best not to laugh out loud instead putting on the look that best conveys concern and compassion, but it was hard - very, very hard. Thankfully, neither were seriously hurt, though they decided that this particular tree had been sufficiently well trimmed and quickly moved on to the next with bodies intact and only their pride slightly dented and a few bee stings to show for their encounter.
In the same way that produce is shared, so too are seeds and saplings. If I've enjoyed a particularly good eat at my parent's place, there is no better, or more economical way than to "adopt" a sapling from the tree that provided this bounty, in the hope that in time, I too will be producing such gems (this doesn't always happen when you take saplings, but it's certainly worth a try, particularly when these are freely available and free of charge).
Although my dear old Dad, now 84, conducts a daily walk around the garden to check his fruit, occasionally, during a high wind or stormy weather, a prize specimen will drop, roll away to some far corner and take root. This was certainly the case after the hurricane last year and down in the undergrowth, seven fallen coconuts took root and proceeded to grow. My father was more than pleased to be able to pass these on to me. As they all came from one tree (it is the only coconut tree on that side of his garden), I tend to think of them as the seven sisters. These have been planted in a row along the perimeter of the veg garden which I now refer to as "The Garden of the Seven Sisters"; I have no doubt that some local folk, being rather superstitious, will believe this name is based in some sort of magic... magical - definitely, but magic - not as far as I know.
On previous occasions, my father and his helper, Mr Johnson, have appeared three days before Full Moon, armed with other saplings looking for a new home and I have always been happy to welcome them. My entire banana collection has come from my father's garden. Bananas grow, flower and produce fruit in a rather quick cycle and then the lead shoot dies, so is usually removed immediately after the fruit has been harvested. But all is not lost, for whilst the lead shoot has been busy making bananas, she has put in place a cunning succession plan, one which many large corporations could learn a great deal from. For she leaves behind two or three "daughters" in various stages of growth, ready to take her place. The clump is known colloquially as "mother and daughters" and can either be left to create one huge clump or daughters can be encouraged to leave home and move to pastures new. A simple sharp spade to the base with cleanly remove a daughter. A truly amazing growth process that keeps us in an abundance of bananas (and plantains) the whole year round.
Despite all the years of cumulative knowledge and treemanship, occasionally, it is necessary to bring in other tree specialists. It recently became obvious that some of the very large, older trees that I managed to save from the excavator during the land clearance and house-build, were in need of some attention and for this I called in some local tree men. I had seen tree specialists around the place, with their hoists, hard hats and chain saws - however, these were not they! Recommended by Trevor the gardener, these guys came down from the country for the day. In a random episode in my previous life, I had been obliged to study for a Health & Safety qualification, so thought I had a reasonable idea of how such a project should be undertaken. As it transpired this training had no relevance whatsoever to the events that would unfold. The best options were to either close my eyes or go inside until the work was completed.
These guys climbed trees 40ft - 60ft tall, with no ropes, harnesses, hard hats or steel toe-capped boots. Armed simply with machetes and with bare feet, they clambered to the top of each tree, which incidentally are full of stinging ants and other unpleasant inhabitants, and proceeded to hack away, moving down the tree until the desired height and shape were obtained. And so they worked, creating a sense of calm that all was well and this is how things had been done for generations. THEN came the hysterical shouting......they had disturbed a bee's nest and were flying down out of the tree as though on a greased fireman's pole! The following scene of these two grown men running around the garden whilst one manically swished himself with a cut branch was just too close to an old Laurel & Hardy movie to be taken seriously. I tried my best not to laugh out loud instead putting on the look that best conveys concern and compassion, but it was hard - very, very hard. Thankfully, neither were seriously hurt, though they decided that this particular tree had been sufficiently well trimmed and quickly moved on to the next with bodies intact and only their pride slightly dented and a few bee stings to show for their encounter.
Friday, 18 November 2011
Sunday, 13 November 2011
A FICKLE MISTRESS...
WATER, in its many guises, whether rain or piped from the water company (or snow, sleet or hail for my fellow global gardeners) was what I had in mind when I tapped out the title for this piece. However, my thoughts apply equally to any weather phenomenon - sun, rain or even wind; for who does not appreciate a pleasant breeze on a summer's day and yet, are almost petrified at the thought of a gale force wind, tornado or hurricane? Or delighted by a light dusting of powdered sugar-like snow, only to despise it when it prevents one from going about one's daily business, beyond the first magical day.
Growing up, my mother used to say of friends - the best way to keep them is not to see them too little or too often - I have a similar relationship with water/rain. The Fickle Mistress who we cannot live without, though on some days we wish her gone. We even make up rhymes asking her to go away and come back another day and then complain bitterly and pine for her return if she stays away too long; what contrary creatures we humans are.
This week, we experienced water shortages in some parts of the island with the pumping station for this area only turning on the supply at seemingly random times, in the early hours of the morning (or at the "crap of dawn" as my friend Carolyn likes to say) or very late at night. What a sense of relief one feels when you turn on the tap and hear that gurgling sound as the water returns. I know now, with hindsight, that I should have incorporated a rain water capture system within the house build, however, at the time my head was so full of other issues - at first only the nice elements about the aesthetics and then later, picking up the pieces after the crooked builder left me with an unsafe structure and absconded with the sizable deposit.
So, until I can add a proper rain water system, I have installed an eight hundred gallon water tank to store piped water. Unfortunately, this too has it's own complications, having become contaminated after the local reservoir was flooded with silt - and so it sits months later, waiting for me to hire a man to disconnect it, clean it and re-fit it. A second back-up tank is also on the "to do" list. Like many other aspects of island living, it's often a case of feast or famine and this week was no exception with a change in the weather (we are at the tail end of hurricane season) bringing sudden and torrential downpours - a case of too much water outside, whilst barely sufficient inside.
There was a time when one could predict the comings and goings of the rainy season and the dry season with reasonable accuracy, but recent years have seen the wettest dry season, the driest wet season, the driest dry season (close to 5 months without rain on this a rainforest island) and the worst hurricane, in terms of fatalities and damage to infrastructure, since records began when HURRICANE TOMAS passed through a year ago this month. Global warming? Perhaps........
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| Torrential rain causes a landslide and blocks the road |
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| What was to later become the driveway to the house |
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| Road to my parent's home. The wall on the left totally collapsed later that day |
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| LOST! All my top soil washes down and blocks the 3ft deep storm drain for about 100 yards |
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| The finished drive with its torrent of rain water during stormy weather |
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| A great view, even on rainy days |
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