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How to grow a garden

The other week m cheerily called ‘Hallo!’ from her first floor window to a passerby who, by chance, happened to have slept in the very same bedroom as a child. Our house had belonged to her mother, and the raised bed sleepers in the back garden had been placed by her father decades earlier. For the three growing seasons the house has been ours the decayed sleepers and an arch sat like oversized furniture making the space feel unfairly small, exacerbated further each spring as nature trickled into a torrent of unruly green.

Since January M and I have been in the back courtyard most weekends. While dyschronia places me in late summer I happily accept the reality that we’re only mid-Spring. In reconfiguring the garden, our wishes were simple – a sense of spaciousness, low maintenance planting, easy access to the garage, and areas for lounging, barbecuing and play. And unlike other DIY projects undertaken in the house, nature’s impermanence has made for a liberating playground.

Noting here some useful resources and lessons learned through the process:

How to select plants

  • Book Planting the Natural Garden by Piet Oudolf & Henk Gerritsen
    This book offers pretty comprehensive detailing of Oudolf and Gerritsen’s favourite perennial plants and grasses, along with some planting theme suggestions and spacing recommendations. I read it like a novel and revered it like a bible, slowly refining a final selection of plants for our space. The ’New Perennial’ or ‘Dutch Wave’ movement that Oudolf is renowned for choreographs plants and grasses, taking into consideration their bloom period, season by season structure, colour and height to create a display that’s interesting in every season.
  • Gardener Erik Funneman
    Erik was one of several gardeners available for speed dating sessions as part of the Utrecht Botanic Gardens voorjaarsweekend program. With some luck, we were able to get some guidance from him on plant selection, with recommendations to limit variety of species for greater impact and substitute some current selections for close variants that were lower maintenance. I particularly like the sculptural elements in his work – whether built construction or via plant selection and combination.

Where to source them (and other plant-related things)

  • Nurseries Plantwerk, van Houtem, and de Hessenhof
    In hindsight, though Planting the Natural Garden was an essential primer, I realise now that it is more practical to have a base knowledge of plants which can then be drawn on to select from the growing lists of one or two preferred nurseries – making for simple procurement and confidence in quality. Buying directly from nurseries, as opposed to garden centres, provides better insight regarding the origins of your plants. Both organically grown and native plants contribute to biodiversity through improved soil quality and by supporting pollinators, respectively.
  • Bases and toppers Biokultura and Pokon
    Biokultura is run by Kwekerij van Houtem and produces high-quality organic potting soil, garden soil and compost. We filtered our existing soil, which tested neutral and already had a decent ecosystem of worms and bugs, and mixed it with some of Biokultura’s garden soil to improve it a little more. It has barely rained since our plants went in the ground, so Pokon’s mulch has been extremely helpful in retaining moisture (and minimising weeds).
  • Tuinderijen Eykenstein and Amelis’Hof
    In Utrecht the distance between the city centre and its outer boundaries is small, making it possible to live in urban areas and take a short cycle to buy organic fruit, veg and flowers directly from small growers. This is a small pleasure, that I hope to make more of a practice – a beautiful cycle for fresh groceries making for a slow Saturday morning.

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After Perec

Every month I ‘splurge’ approximately 5% of my income. The theory, following Australia’s favourite financial advisor, is that small, regular indulgences lead to fortified discipline. Too few realise that hardcore diets are, for the majority of the population, destined to fail.

Another theory, mine, is that people are either $penders or savers. And in any given relationship it’s probably healthy to have one of each. I happen to be the saver. So when I say that I splurge 5% of my income every month, I mean that I set aside 5% of my income to accumulate until something fanciful, with varying degrees of necessity, takes my eye and I’m reminded that I should indulge.

Meanwhile, my personal wardrobe can be divided into five categories:

  1. A few items I adore and wear relentlessly
  2. Decent decisions well past their lifespan – moth-eaten, shrunken, stained
  3. More poor decisions than I’d like to admit – fit, colour, material
  4. Hand-me-downs, pure function
  5. Ill-suited gifts, rarely worn

On the one hand money accumulating and on the other a relatively undesirable wardrobe. Which gets me to the very banal idea that precipitated this post. What if I attempted to anticipate all the things I might ‘need’ in a year, and assigned my monthly savings accordingly, encouraging spending toward a wardrobe that works? Let’s play this out…

January, work attire
February, underwear and socks
March, summer shoes and swimwear
April, hair cut and colour
May, leisure clothes
June, makeup and perfume
July, work attire
August, hair cut and colour
September, leisure clothes
October, outerwear
November, winter shoes
December, hair cut and colour

Maybe a saver’s dream, or possibly just a poem after Perec.

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From Doing to Being

What a whirlwind the last five months have been – buying and moving into our first home, undertaking and living in a small renovation, growing our first child, all while navigating a busy work schedule.

We are extremely relieved to have been extracted from the day to day realities of the mid-pandemic housing market – predatory real estate agents and practices, relentless hunting, overwhelming competition, excruciating evaluation of personal suitability versus actual value, saccharine offer letters and depressing rejections. In total we viewed 43 homes with our 17th offer being accepted. Gruelling.

What is not immediately obvious about renovating is that it requires a decision regarding e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. In the kitchen, that’s the layout, materials, appliances and fixtures, but also the colour of the grouting, lighting locations, type of cupboard handles, the design, quantity and height of electrical switches, et al. Many decisions are related to the intuitive functionality, rather than aesthetic feel, of the space – that is they’re really critical to making a space ‘work’. Multiply that swath of decisions by however many rooms you’ve been brave enough to tackle. So there is the physical work of construction (which we mostly outsourced) but also the mental work of conceptualisation.

Having survived the process I can, with knowing tongue in cheek, understand how some couples are completely broken by it or end up in therapy. Despite our share of painful conversations, M and I eventually came to recognise, and respect, that our differences establish a healthy equilibrium – where he is pragmatic with the ability to visualise things easily, maintaining the momentum of decision-making at the risk of an occasional wrong call, where I am more idealistic, reliant on samples to consider every possible variable to avoid making the wrong call, at the risk of delaying work. Toward the end, if it wasn’t urgent M gave me the space to deliberate, and if it was urgent I communicated any immediate concerns or simply let it go.

One other learning was just how much can go wrong. As experienced designers we expected hiccups… but not quite so many, or by so many different suppliers. Like the toilet flush plate, which was first mounted incorrectly by the builders, then once installed flushed excessively long (the store had paired a newer facade with an older mount) and had to be looked at by the brand specialist who managed to solve the problem but in the meantime fractured the glass plate, posting out a wrong replacement model, until finally the correct model was sent and installed successfully by M. Or the kitchen countertop, where the stone supplier discontinued the material we had selected, but failed to let the kitchen designer know, instead sending a substitute with an entirely different finish and colour. So here we are, 9 May and 16 weeks since our somewhat small renovation began and not a single room is 100% complete. Of course some element of global supply chain woes, price hikes and staff shortages related to the pandemic and its economic fallout have played a part in adding to the chaos.

Living in the renovation no doubt added to our burden. And while it was somewhat naive of us, it was also extremely practical (four months of rent and mortgage after home buying fees and renovation costs and before accommodating a child? No thanks). But for sure I did not think through the jeopardy of being 24 weeks pregnant and having both loos out of action, ducking regularly to our local supermarket for relief. Or having to be showered and dressed by 7am to avoid being caught in a towel by a builder. Or having to traipse up and down two flights of stairs between the attic (with prep space, sink and chairs) and the garage/garden (with fridge, oven and BBQ) to cook a meal. It was tough-going. And our naïveté was probably for the better, I’m not sure we would have otherwise had the stamina.

And all this while pregnant(!). Most first mums I know were extremely disciplined (healthy eating, vitamins, walking, yoga, pelvic floor exercises, etc.) and well prepared (reading, courses, baby’s room ready months in advance) in their first pregnancy. Which is maybe how I can shape a second pregnancy! Given the circumstances, M and I are extremely fortunate that things have thus far been pretty uncomplicated, made up in phases of very ‘normal’ symptoms*. And we’re also very lucky that baby did not feel compelled to arrive early. I’ve been on maternity leave since 4 April, five weeks ahead of my due date, which seems generous but at that point we were still packed up in 20+ boxes and yet to paint, let alone being physically or emotionally ready to welcome a newborn.

At some point during our house hunt I miserably complained to my mum, ‘I just want to get on with my life!’. To which she replied, ‘But this is life’. Touché, mum. Since we packed up our London home back in September 2020 it has been a wild ride. Most significantly, I’ve gained a deeper awe and love for my husband, as we’ve been exposed to experiences where I’ve had better insight into just how capable and committed he is. Simultaneously, it has definitely felt like eighteen long months with our belongings in boxes and personal interests on hold. With baby’s arrival, whenever that might be, we are ready to slow down and just enjoy ‘being’ for awhile.

*my experience of an ‘uncomplicated’ pregnancy included: tiredness, loss of focus, loss of breath, blood noses, foot cramps, fainting, back pain, Melasma (pregnancy mask), sciatica pain, heartburn, swollen ankles, choking on my own spit, snoring (M loved this one) and increased blood pressure, among other things.

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Dina’s Eggs

Roughly around week 6-8 of pregnancy, for two weeks and two weeks only, I craved any and all food that registered on my sensory radar. From the Jacket Potato that appeared in The Morning to the crisp memory of Dina’s eggs, served during our stay at Casa da Dina in Alentejo’s countryside. While waiting for Dina to kindly email through her recipe I tried out the first decent looking search result for Mexican eggs.

But Dina’s eggs are next level. They’re way richer and jammier due to the reduction of the tomatoes, creating a simple chutney of sorts which is then finally added to the eggs alongside jalapeño and fresh coriander. Recipe below, as shared by Dina.

So, here it goes:

The tomato sauce

  • 1–1.5kg tomatoes (good ones, plum or any other kind as far as they are ripe. Cut them in quarters or smaller. I peel them, but not totally. You can leave some skin on)
  • 800g  white onions cut in quarters (if too large cut the quarters in half)
  • 2 cloves of garlic
  • olive oil
  • salt

In a pot (I use a wok) start with the olive oil, generous amount, then make a layer of tomato, followed by a layer of onions and  garlic. Repeat the layers until you run out of all the ingredients. Add the salt and turn on the stove. When it starts boiling lower the heat and cover the pot. Let it boil slowly for 40 minutes to an hour. And it is ready. Taste it to make sure the salt is good. It reduces a lot and you will see a lot of liquid.

You can make abundant tomato sauce and freeze it in small portions. This way you can eat your Mexican eggs anytime you feel like it and faster. You may use the sauce also in stews, etc. etc.

Now the eggs:

  • 2–4 eggs
  • 1 jalapeño (it depends on the size of the chili and the amount of eggs you are making. For both of you I think half is good)
  • 1.5tbsp  chopped coriander leaves (half of this amount goes on the frying pan the other half over the eggs once they are done and on the plate)
  • 3 tbs tomato sauce

On a frying pan pour a little bit of olive oil. Add the 3 tablespoons of the tomato, the coriander and the chopped jalapeño. Let it fry till the water from the tomato sauce evaporates (or else the eggs will turn really mushy and ugly). Pour the eggs on and make them to your taste. Once on the serving plate it is time for the rest of the coriander.

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Travel and its opposites

If, as we’re told, the point of exotic travel is to ‘create memories’, and if, as I would insist, our memories consist fundamentally of good stories, and if what makes a good story is some element of unexpectedness, it follows that the point of travelling is to be surprised.

Jonathon Franzen, from the essay Postcards from East Africa, in The End of the End of the Earth pg 181

In 2010 I was staying in the seaside village of Taganga, Colombia when I realised that my cash supply was running dangerously low and I would need to travel to the nearby town of Santa Marta to withdraw more. I passed over the last of my coins to the bus driver for the short trip and was soon wandering through the outskirts of the town. Finally locating a cash machine, I discovered that my bank card had been blocked due to a recent online purchase. Without any backups (lesson learned), or mobile phone, I was reliant on my own ‘smarts’ to dig myself out of the mess. Faintly recalling the details of a nearby hostel, I navigated my way and promptly asked to make use of the wifi. Connected, with a thick Aussie accent filling the headphones I was dismayed to realise that the microphone didn’t work.

A last resort, I asked if I could borrow some cash to call from a local payphone. To which the attendant replied that they would need to check with the manager. Shortly the manager arrived and… ‘Evan?!’. The manager, it turned out, was a Californian I had studied with in Sydney back in 2005, both of us as exchange students. He, of course, happily lent me the money and within 30 minutes I’d spoken with the bank, had the hold on my card lifted, withdrawn cash and returned the borrowed money with a wild sense of wonder at the smallness of the world.

My eleven year old memory emphasises that travel is not manufactured experience, as rampant tourism and the plethora of City Guides might have us believe. Real adventure exposes you to the elements, to learn something surprising about a new place, or possibly even yourself. Conversely, a form of overly planned travel that I’ve come to appreciate in recent years is one that serves an entirely different purpose – one of rest. Both are totally valid, and necessary, in balance. And both are a privilege, though neither require travelling far from home to experience.

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Pandemic policy update

It’s been awhile since I posted an update on Coronavirus restrictions, because it feels as though barely anything has changed. I’m pleased to stand corrected, there is some slow progress.

Today’s national pandemic policy

Status: Partly loosened strict lockdown

• daycare centres and primary schools are open *
• secondary schools taught remotely, but can offer one in-person class per week *
• adults can participate in sports activities at outdoor sports facilities in groups of up to 4 people *
• retail stores can offer click and collect, as well as appointments booked at least 4 hours in advance *
• contact-based professions (hairdressers, driving instructors) open *
• the curfew has been shifted back to 10pm *
• funerals may be attended by no more than 50 people *
• weddings may be attended by no more than 30 people *
• do not travel abroad and do not book trips abroad until 15 May *
• only go outside with members of your household, on your own or with 1 other person
• no more than 1 person aged 13 or over at your home per day
• visit no more than 1 other household per day
• work from home. Only people whose presence is essential to operational processes can go to work
• masks to be worn in indoor spaces
• public transport should be used for essential travel only
• food and drinks establishments are closed, takeaways excepted
• all museums, zoos, cinemas, amusement parks and other public spaces are closed
• no alcohol sold after 8pm

*revised from the previous policy update