My Afrikaans language skills are acceptable, but I embarrassed myself horribly at my local co-op by asking for “kunsmis” (fertiliser) instead of kompos (compost). Since this is a farmer’s co-op there are as many types of fertiliser as there are crops in the ground, and while the salesman tried to help, I showed myself as clueless as I really am. I wanted the type of compost with chicken manure, but couldn’t think of a polite way to describe it apart from “kalkoen kak” and those words were not going to pass my lips. Not in a small, conservative, farming town, no siree.
Since my soil is clay with rocks, I will need to resort to raised beds, which I’m mapping out with the use of half bricks.
Pic 1 – East side featuring one olive tree with ten olives and a thousand aphids, one lemon tree zero lemons and a thousand aphids, quince tree with actual quinces being steadily scoffed by innumerable gigantic beetles. apple tree no apples. Useful rain gauge no rain.
Pic 2 – Southeast side, pre-existing pile of garden refuse artistically concealed behind graceful palm fronds, massive inaccessible grapevine twirled through trees, sundry unidentified fruit trees, hideous but useful washing line, strange structure of no use whatsoever but earmarked for my Zen thinking zone, fig tree minus it’s one almost ripe fig (pesky feathered thieves!!!).
Pic 3 – South side, lemon tree covered in scale. Notice shadow cast by house right over proposed potager/herb garden.
Pic 4 – South west side, spooky abandoned warehouse next door, robust rosemary bush, minuscule chilli, outhouse.
My neighbour suggested I napalm the lot and start again, but where’s the fun in that? I’m getting wonderfully toned arms from slinging bags of potting soil and compost and anyway, Google Translate suggests “hoendermis” is the correct term for chicken crap. I’m learning so fast.
P.S. It looks much better from the front.