So...

Life in Melbourne is pretty cool. Apart from the absence of immediate family and close friends, this city has a lot going for it. The suburb in which I'm based is relaxed and very quiet. I'm also a short distance from farms and the bush, as well as the hustle and bustle of the city and the life on Brunswick Street. In all, the transition has been quite a pleasant surprise.

Another plesant aspect I've been exploring of late is my rekindled interest in gardening. It's an area that I am quite proficient, yet have devoted very little time to. This is changing with our small, but enjoyable garden.

Before I arrived here, we had no vegetables growing in the small dirt border that makes up the garden in our unit's courtyard. However, Lucy had been burying a large amount of kitchen scraps, and had managed to turn the once water repellant dust into quite a reasonable strata of topsoil. A good start. I've planted broad beans, peppermint, cherry tomatoes, zucchini, rocket, marjoram, oregano and a few others, and so far everything is moving along at a strong pace. In addition, the food scraps are pulling their own weight, with pumpkins in the tens of dozens sprouting everywhere, along with potatoes, regular sized tomatoes and whatever else I've yet to identify at the seedling stages. With all these positives I've decided to set a goal:

I would like to be able to produce one fifth of the food consumed in tihis house, in our courtyard. It's a big target, especially given the lack of space we have, but foam crates and plenty of potting mix and blood and bone should help bring that back to a workable line.

Here's hoping!

CUNDALL!!

Achtung! I have seen Peter Cundall in person. Live. In reality. All is now well.

Really.

On Saturday Lucy and I ventured out into the Melbourne sun, walking toward the light, braving a mild breeze and unruly throngs of black thumbed middle-aged Victorians, hippies and jam sales-women all eager to bathe in the shadow of the awesomeness that is Peter Cundall.

I'd never been to a garden expo before. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, other than greenery, lots of grey haired people (greyer than I) and the occasional tool. It turned out to be quite a fun few hours, where Lucy and I looked into and midly researched our longterm big dream; a sustainable home, environmentally friendly and off the grid (or lightly tethered to).

Plenty to see. There were plants of a myriad different type and more water tanks and cow poo than you could shake a garden wand at. Perhaps my favourite elements of the afternoon (aside from the Cundall) were the lounge chairs designed for outdoor use, suspended from a rope, complete with a foot stool that is suspended from its own rope. Mmmm lazy. I also quite liked the various solar, wind and water related stalls/products, of which I now have a handy bag full of literature to digest. Beyond those, and the brilliant recycled wood photo frames that I bought - there was Peter Cundall.

Peter Cundall is special. A recently retired octogenerian (b. 1927) star of ABC TV's "Gardening Australia", Peter is an icon of Australian backyard culture, but to me he will always be known as the guy who loves shit. Oh yes, I have never seen, heard or known of any soul who could get as excited about compost, cow turds and a bag of blood and bone than this guy. The way he caresses and enthuses about mulch is truly a thing of.. well, interest. Whilst a tad funny, the bloke is a champion. The highlight of seeing him and being the people in the line to get him to sign Lucy's DVD (we missed out as we hit the front) was to see Peter give two little would-be gardeners and fans the biggest hug you've ever seen (plus minor unintentional headbutt). How can ya not love the dude?

Well worth having gone, but jeez - $17 is a bit steep. For that I'd at least expect a packet of seeds (for me) and a doughnut (for Lucy).