Work/life balance

I know that I have infinite company in feeling that the roller coaster of the last two years has thrown this balance off completely, that the mental load that work entails has expanded to encroach into every corner of brain space, with attending consequences for mental and physical health. Re-establishing boundaries, especially for myself, is an ongoing challenge and a necessary one. Here are some things that have helped recently with re-balancing the scales:

Getting out of the house and going somewhere different - in this case, London. After being entirely confined to the BosNYWash megalopolis for nearly 3 years, I got on a plane with my family and went to a different country altogether. We took Miss B to some of our favorite London spots and thoroughly enjoyed the change of scene. Oh, and we got to cheer DP on as he won an award in his field, which put a very nice finishing touch to the excursion.

Welcoming visitors - two of my sisters came to visit, also for the first time in nearly 3 years. It was such a refreshing change; we took a break from the regular routine to do touristy things with them, as well as making the most of the time together with lots of walking, chatting, and eating. We spotted this rainbow as we were lingering at the dinner table one evening - I doubt I'd have noticed if it if I'd been doing my usual daily round. 

Making time for hobbies - these breaks from the routine reminded me that I don't have to wait for other people or events to provide an opportunity to take some time to focus on things other than work. In addition to my usual food purchases at the farmers' market this weekend (including some spectacular strawberries, see above), I also picked up some tomato and herb plants to grow on the back deck - an addition to the daily routine that I hope will supplement both diet and quality of life. 

Final harvest

Last Saturday was the last local farmers’ market of the season, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the last of my own garden’s produce as well. There should be enough to can one more batch of tomato sauce, and I’m thinking of roasting some of the sweet peppers and stashing them somewhere to use over the winter. Freezer? In glass jars in olive oil? Must do some research on that. (Opinions welcome also.) I’m going to dry the chili peppers; that’s only about a quarter of my yield (from one plant, no less!), so I should be well equipped to make any amount of spicy stuff for months to come.

I will miss the farmers’ market, but on the other hand it will be nice to sleep later than 6am on Saturday for a change. Silver lining yadda yadda.

Basil overload

So, my basil has done rather well this year. I think it’s over four feet tall at its highest point—definitely taller than Miss B and nearly chest-high on me. Now that the weather has cooled off, it has slowed down, but is still flourishing. I know my days of walking out the back door and picking a leaf (or a handful) are numbered, and that I’ll have to start thinking about doing a major harvest soon, before we get a frost.

What to do with it? I’m planning to make some more pesto, and with very limited freezer space right now I’m also looking for shelf-stable ways to preserve it—possibly drying some and canning some. I found an obscure recipe for Basil-Pepper Jelly that looks like a good way to preserve some of this and, as a bonus, use up the bags of Italian fryers my prolific gardener friend T. has bestowed upon me.

What the...?

I think I need to start paying attention to my container garden again.

I’ve been ignoring it, you see, what with it being winter and all. So, no watering, no checking to see how much sun things are getting; to be honest, I haven’t even gotten around to cleaning up the dead stuff from last summer.

Imagine my surprise when I looked out on the balcony earlier this week and noticed something green and growing. Even more amazing: it was the mint. The same mint that I planted twice last summer, and which had never even sprouted.

(Bearing in mind that mint is one of those things that reputedly will take over the entire garden if not contained, because it grows anywhere. I can tell you that its total failure to thrive here made me question my gardening capabilities.)

Apparently it just doesn’t like to be too hot. I guess that’ll teach me to stop taking gardening advice from people in England and the American northeast.

I wonder if any Australians would be willing to advise me whether I’ve left it too long to plant my tulip bulbs?

Green thoughts

When I was growing up, my main involvement with the garden was weeding, a task which I generally had to do squatting in the dirt, in the hot sun, when I would rather have been sitting on the porch, in the shade, with a library book. Needless to say, I did not become enamored of gardening as a pastime.

One of my closest friends assured me, years ago, that owning a garden of my own would change all that. My loathing would turn to proprietary interest and a desire to lavish TLC upon my own little patch of earth. I have yet to test this theory personally as, despite my advanced adulthood, I do not own a house. I had thought wistfully about trying my hand at gardening in one of the various places we have rented, but somehow I never got around to it. In hindsight, I think it was a combination of discouraging weather (England), and the perpetually unsettled feeling of our peripatetic lifestyle (wherever). If I wasn’t preparing for the next looming trip overseas, DP and I were contemplating job prospects (his) in another city, or another country, or another hemisphere. I couldn’t even commit to making a sourdough starter, let alone planting a garden.

Then, after the most unsettled year so far—at one point back in May it could have gone either way as to whether we’d even be coming to Australia, or moving back to England—we arrived in Canberra in time for the start of Australian spring. We settled in, unpacked our boxes, got our bearings. We got used to the idea that, although we won’t be here forever, we’ll be settled in one place for a couple of years. And I planted a little garden in containers on our balcony. (All food, of course—vegetables and herbs.)

My first plants—cucumbers—have sprouted. It’s enough to bring a tear to your eye. But even better is that, from what I hear, container gardeners require almost no weeding.