Part-time music maker, sometime smallholder, other-time movement therapist,most time ordinary being

Wednesday, 18 October 2017

Dancing on the land



Looking back, I can count on my hand several approaches (rather than methods) which have been useful over the 2 decades I've been here on this plot of land called Jessam. These shaped what I did back then; years later, in hindsight, it's possible to see what I might do again, and what I wouldn't repeat. There is the sense of a dynamic dance, integrating one's needs with the immediate environment, rather than a strict management and control of the land 'out there'. A fairly open-minded, eclectic approach and a light hand allows the property to take on its own shape as suits it best.

Subjects I read and absorbed back then (from books, as internet was yet fledgling) - permaculture, organic farming, natural gardening, re-wilding with indigenous species - all shaped the land here at Jessam. I was particularly enamoured with the idea of 'lazy-style' permaculture gardening, including the no-dig approach and tolerance of weeds.

Implementing some of these ideas have certainly given rise to a low-maintenance, fuss-free, water-wise garden that is full of surprises. These surprises are really offspring of hardy plants that make themselves at home, seeding prolifically with little attention. I like to think that if people disappeared off this patch, a jungle would take over!  In my area, a few of these toughies are:
 wild dagga of 2 varieties -  loved by sunbirds
 knobwoods - popping up like weeds
 pittisporum- cheesewoods
 rhus cherindisis
erythrinas - coral trees
hilarious Lucy (hilaria lucida, or tree fuschia)
and more: butterfly bush, clivias, bulbinellas, arum lillies, cycads, pelargoniums, wild garlics, plumbago, wild honeysuckle, kei apples, num-nums, amaryllis, agapanthas and lilies, red hot pokers. Poetical names suggest a song..!

Then amongst the edible fare the following are thriving stalwarts: tree tomatoes, figs, cherry guavas, lady finger bananas, lemons and citrus, plums, scrambling catawba grapes, pecan nuts, paw-paw, granadillas, avocado (one old beaten tree trying its best), broad beans and other beans, spinaches and salads, artichokes and asparagus, coriander and celery, squashes and beets.

I learnt to note WHAT grows well in one's area, and copy it. Observe local gardens, see what's at home and follow suit- that's half the job done. Trade stout snippings with neighbours and grow what thrives naturally. I had a grand old friend across the road, now deceased, who inspired me as she poked around her bountiful, sprawling vegetable garden with her walker, on crippled legs. Her gifts of seed and cuttings were generous, and instead of tea, she always offered gin with a mischievous grin!

The following books were my bibles in my early days here:

People's Workbook 

This historical South African book dates from pre- the 1980s, the 'bad old days' in this part of the world; inherited from home, it stills bears my mother' s name and details. It gives the feeling that vegetable growers and tillers of land are radical activists somehow subverting and undermining the dominant prevailing system. Perhaps that's not too far from the truth.  Its art work is distinctive for that period, and amongs its useful subjects are: how to slaughter a chicken (or rabbit, or goat), make water safe to drink, deliver a baby, build a pit latrine, establish co-ops for seed purchase,  make sandals and candles, and how to start a library. A true revolutionist bible! The sound advice for growing food would stand head and shoulders in any tome on permaculture. Tucked in between pages on raising tomato seedlings and crop rotation are comic strips on matters of voting, strikes for living wages and land rights. Somehow the book survived being banned.


Bringing nature back to your garden

A fantastic and inspiring guide on how to allow a natural space to evolve in one's backyard, this practical book reveals just how many indigenous plants are available and beneficial to the local insect, bird and animal population. This was my guide book for many years, and these very plants are the ones that now seed themselves freely and spontaneously at Jessam. The bird population is healthy and varied as a result, and each season brings its share of abundant insect and animal life to feast on the flora and fauna. Natural gardening, as they refer to it, has become my cornerstone, and includes 're-wilding'. This implies clearing aliens or invasive weeds, allowing space for the endemic, local wild plants and trees to grow. Wildlife will appreciate this.


















Self - sufficiency
An inspiring classic for the smallholder, but unfortunately set in England, so much does not apply to our climate in SA. As a wer-behind-the-ears smallholder, with young children and surprising energy, I became inspired to put my hand to many skills, for better or for worse: jamming, chutney bottling, veggies and herbs, livestock, cheese, bread and soap making, biltong processing, bees, paper making, weaving and concocting home remedies for my guinea pig family and animals. My bottles still bear a suspicious reputation, especially as I often neglected to label them correctly. My son swore that my wildeals tincture sorted his earache on a camping trip and saved the day! It may have just been the alcohol content.  Sufficient to say that I no longer aspire to any notion of self-sufficiency, but am grateful for occasional benefits reaped off the land here. This book covers a lot of ground in detail on many different topics pertinent to smallholders.

A garden of plenty 
This great little reference book feels local and relevant as it was conceived in Zimbabwe and then taken further here in Grahamstown at the Masibambane self-help project; it is an accessible,  practical guide to growing healthy vegetables in this part of the world. I found this book immensely helpful and down-to-earth, appreciating its fuss-free style. I discovered the value of comfrey from this book, and for a time concocted foul-smelling barrels of comfrey manure to throw on the garden. The book has simple illustrations and straightforward advice on animal husbandry and food production.






Permaculture 
Anything on the subject of permaculture, borrowed from classic textbooks from the local library at the time, with abundant ideas on layout, zoning and swales, and using livestock to the advantage of the land. There was a time when I ate and slept sheet mulching and experimented with various recipes of compost making. Some ideas implemented were utterly taken swamped by nature which always wins in the end: maintenance of a pond proved too much, and even the pump was consumed by ingrowing tangles of jungles.

            The lilies flourish where once was a pond:










Yvette Van Wyk - First aid with herbs - for pets and other animals

The author happened to live at one time on the property next
door here at Stones Hill, where she established an
iconic herb garden and produced 2 books on the subject of herbs and their uses, and another on sewing seeds. The herb books became my well-thumbed informative references, and she
got me going brewing brave tinctures and mixing up startling potions of varying hue and efficacy.


Making the most of indigenous trees


Trees are the best investment to make on any property of size. This is one of my most cherished go-to books which proved immensely helpful in this task; its simple layout appeals to the amateur, giving clear information about trees endemic to specific areas. I could add further useful information about those most likely to get chomped by cows or donkeys. This I discovered the hard way over the years, planting trees that never stood a chance with these animals around. Donkeys will ringbark erythrinas (coral trees) - the bark is a sweet shop feast for them! Looking back over 2 decades on a plot, the most remarkable hallmark feature is the growth of trees; forests have sprung up changing entire outlooks; saplings have tripled or more in size. They are worth giving long-distance thought to when planting out; for instance, it's not a good idea to plant, say, a wild fig near the house. It will consume the house like a triffid.

I have found animals to be the best asset on land, giving plentiful rich manure, essential for compost making: chickens, cows, donkeys. Otherwise it's worth shipping the stuff in from time to time. The down side is, these creatures often eat what you're trying to grow, but that's where your dance begins! My team of donkeys make excellent lawn mowers, though for some reason there's always a patch or two they avoid which requires separate shearing, but they do the lion's (?) share of the job. Chickens just have to be kept out of the veggie garden, being partial to scratching and dust baths. Long ago I gave up on pretty flowers in the gardens, and all the poppies, coreopsis, shasta daisies, cosmos and petunias disappeared over time. What grows now is compatible and resilient to these resident animals.

I have a particular plant with a story: a small pot was given as a gift when my daughter was born: a tree begonia, I was told. It went into a large pot on the stoep, and soon grew so big that it had to be divided into two pots. It continued to grow, reaching the height of the stoep roof! Further divisions, finally pieces of plant pushed into the ground all around the house, next to walls and in bushy areas; this prolific plant just keeps growing upward, like a tree, bearing bunches of shameless pretty pink lacy flowers. I give away sticks of it regularly, telling people that it thrives on music -  I've noticed it grows best outside the music room. My daughter knows this resilient, beautiful, prolific plant marks the start of her life here. She can take a piece and plant it wherever she lands herself - it will continue to grow!

This much illustrates a mere cupful of my experience here on this patch of land: our small valiant plantings (those which survive) over time evolve in surprising ways to reflect much of ourselves and who we are. They are gifts bringing us great pleasure and teaching us another way to dance on this earth. The very word - smallholding - perhaps suggests that we can 'hold' with light fingers what we 'have' here.


















Liz Campbell is the sole writer and composer of all the published material on this blogsite, unless otherwise stated.

She has further blogsites:
   songs for children http://connectsongdance.blogspot.com/

   a collection of songs, poems and prose on the experience of loss, grief and recovery 
                       https://epitaph-lost-found.blogspot.com/

Saturday, 26 August 2017

Dealing with SH#!%&@T

                                   

                                 (OR The taboo about poo)


I find it a good idea as a general rule to start at the bottom and work one’s way up.  Nature is the perfect metaphor that reflects this pervasive and universal pattern, so I’ll go with it. That makes the topic of dealing with one’s sh@!#%t a suitable place to start writing about life at Jessam, reflecting on the foibles and quirks of smallholding life.

    Rules observed from nature:
        when shit will come, shit must come
        that is lesson number one
     (that's not a bad lesson to apply to much in life! The wisdom of mother nature)

The easily overlooked septic tank in the neglected corner gets on with its job in the dark recesses, underground and out of sight, processing waste remarkably efficiently by way of busy little micro-bugs. Until –horrors!-  a blockage sets in or the system springs a leak, clamouring for attention.   

Most often this occurs at an inconsiderate moment when the house is full of  guests, the weather inclement and household demands are high.  A chance trip to the bathroom finds the tide suspiciously high in the lavatory bowl, and the shower outlet flowing in rather than out.... all signs to don the overalls, roll on gloves, abandon plans, make excuses and set out to tackle the problem. It does not just sort itself out, that much I have learnt!

I am heartened to read that the Chinese regarded night- soil as a valuable commodity, paying handsomely for bucketfuls of the stuff.  ‘Night-soil’ conjures up images of dark mulchy manure, an excellent growing medium.  Interesting, too, that toilets are a common subject in dreams, commonly symbolising the processing of one’s crap and the need to dump burdens.

At particularly sore points in my life, I recall vivid dreams about my very own septic tank here at Jessam: an innocent little girl I know perches precariously on the edge of the open pit, dangling her legs dangerously close to the deep contents. At the time, this evoked caution while attending to real and painful life issues.  

 Over the years a hands-on working relationship with the sewerage system at Jessam has evolved; mine is best tended and checked regularly.  Every system is different of course, with habits and idiosyncrasies of its own. It gives me much satisfaction to manually manage the muck on my property, turning it into rich compost that nourishes the plot.  The chickens gleefully celebrate a Christmas feast on that day!


 The chore reflects an array of life truths for me, and leaves me mulling over the bottom-end status that sewerage generally receives in modern societies.  I wonder whether what is now relegated as ‘waste’ will one day be valued for its inherent bounty and  wealth?
 ( See https://www.positive.news/2017/society/28114/rage-against-the-latrine-safer-sustainable-loo-changing-lives/ )

Having grown up in a town, I recall scant community awareness about the subterranean network of sewerage pipes underlying most human settlements, towns, dorpies and neighbourhoods, carting away our sluiced affairs.  I wonder if this puts us out of touch with our more basic, elemental self?  And, conversely,  I wonder if a more hands-on approach gives rise to a grounded, healthy attitude to many life issues?   

It is interesting to note how much psychological terminology describing common people problems contain references  to sewerage....anal retentive; constipated;  when the shit flies;  smooth passage; dealing with crap; attending therapy to offload; regular healthy habits.

Everyday nature, and dreams, offers this encouraging message to all people from all walks of life, all ages, all cultures, all status – no-one excluded:  pay due attention to our crap, deal with the scary ordure as it arises, make friends with our own dumping ground and not only will it serve us well, but become our best ally.

               Septic tank  - poem by me 


                  Shovelling the shit

                  Digging up the past 

                         I see gold
    
                   

                             


Poem on my loo wall  (borrowed, changed and adapted from unknown source)

To all of you with cause to use this humble water closet,
Comes this sage advice regarding that which you deposit:
For this is not a city loo – that undiscerning beast -
Consuming all your rubbish like a savage at a feast.
It has a septic tank, you see, where micro-cells endeavour
To eat your tasty waste with grace –this cycle goes forever.
So sanitaries and orange peels and goodness-only-knows
Will break this fragile system down, for they don’t decompose.
Reflect on this request whilst sitting here and taking stock,
Lest your passing indiscretions cause a choc-a-block gridlock!

Liz Campbell is the sole writer and composer of all the published material on this blogsite, unless otherwise stated.

She has further blogsites:
   songs for children http://connectsongdance.blogspot.com/

   a collection of songs, poems and prose on the experience of loss, grief and recovery 
                       https://epitaph-lost-found.blogspot.com/



Sunday, 23 April 2017

Why JeSSam?

Every name tells a story, no less the name of this historical homestead -JeSSam - now an eclectic smallholding on the outskirts of Grahamstown in the rural heart of the Eastern Cape.

At some point, for most people, life deals up an unwelcome devastation, unexpected and unannounced. These moments become pivotal points around which we turn as on a fulcrum. In due course, they may become harbours that we sail into from time to time to regroup, catch our breath and check our maps. Either that, or they remain tortured territory with unimaginable horrors too painful and bleak to bare revisiting.

So it was in the course of the tale of JeSSam. It was exactly a year to the day after the deaths of two little people, siblings, one named Jessica and the other Sam (short for Simon), that a brave and hopeful move to Grahamstown became possible, promising a new life in the wake of untold loss. 

Grahamstown was even more of a charming quasi-academic-rural settlement in the early 90's. Fresh from the big Cape city, the wild bushy surrounds held much appeal and it did not take much persuasion to fall for a rundown, rough but much loved smallholding outside the village soup bowl. 

Names were bandied about, and it took a dear uncle who had a way with words (especially anagrams) to come up with JeSSam, embodying the names of the deceased children. In time a healthy muddle evolved as the new arrivals received names with their own particular significance:  Adam - the reminder that every new life holds hands with eventual death, and Tessa - from Theresa, meaning 4th child, and boasting a wonderful anagram - Asset. Better still, people often confused Tess with Jess, and all 4 children are somehow represented and remembered in the name, JeSSam.  






Remember this :  Anniversaries      


Once       
I lurched crazily, drunkenly
    from one anniversary to the next birthday,
deranged eyes stretched with
          the madness of grief.

Each occasion offered a million reasons
          to evoke cataclysmic pain
          re-lived,   from belly-up
to a blow all over again in the solar plexus,
          reducing me to the foetal posture of a child.

Now I sail into them with surprise –
          What- here again?
A place to meet a long lost friend;
A chance to breathe and re-connect:
          A welcome harbour for re-stocking.

As life goes on, more landmarks score the route;
Pepper on life's map, like punctuation marks:

Remember this!


Liz Campbell is the sole writer and composer of all the published material on this blogsite, unless otherwise stated.

She has further blogsites:
   songs for children http://connectsongdance.blogspot.com/

   a collection of songs, poems and prose on the experience of loss, grief and recovery 
                       https://epitaph-lost-found.blogspot.com/




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