February 16, 2020

Growing pains

It’s been a strange summer so far as growing and harvesting vegies goes, and I know from speaking with others that we’re far from alone in wondering if and when the tomatoes are going to ripen. Ditto the raspberries. We have two varieties of rasps, one is early, the other late – even into May/June if the weather is kind. This year though both are proving frustratingly tardy.

Despite lush green growth and looking fabulously healthy, the former has limped along providing us with meagre fare. The other teases with literally masses of fruit that’s budding up well, but which stubbornly refuses to reach the pickable stage.

It should be noted that I absolutely adore raspberries so to potentially have so many sitting there refusing to ripen is driving me nuts!

Tomatoes are also proving incredibly slow to show any hint of colour; although I did pick the first couple yesterday. The vines are loaded and John is moaning that summer will be over before the tomatoes are ready. Personally I doubt it given the changing climate means warm summer days now extend well into March, and even April even if the nights are cooler.

I just look at both crops and think, Oh my goodness, when they do actually ripen they’re going to do so all at once, and in a rush, and for a few weeks my life will be dominated, both by picking them, and then – in the case of the tomatoes especially – processing them and cooking up a storm ready to freeze for winter soups, casseroles and pasta sauces.

This is of course a good problem to have, and I’m not complaining, but it makes me wonder how the commercial growers of our fruits and vegetables are managing since their crops must be similarly affected, and with climate change it’s a seasonal production situation likely to become ever more challenging.

As for me well I’d be naturally much happier if these two crops could have sorted their growing and ripening styles a bit more conveniently. But at least they are growing, and they do look like ripening soon, and that’s a good thing. I just need to be patient and wait for nature to do her bit. Which she will of course, but in her own good time.

In the meantime there’s an abundance of cucumbers and thornless blackberries, a steady supply of capsicums, a second crop of peas to anticipate, and what currently looks like considerably more pumpkins than we managed to harvest last year, so we’re unlikely to starve. Always a plus.

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Magni
By Anne Layton-Bennett June 14, 2026
It’s taken far too many months for this marvellous model to grace the dedicated desk space in my office. When Fiona comes to visit next she will be very surprised, and hopefully gratified, that her amazing creative talent is finally on display. We’ve known each other for a very long time, and during the insanely busy time when I was helping to run the flower farm, working part-time in a school library, doing a spot of journalism on the side, and fighting the proposed pulp mill that is the subject of the manuscript I’m hoping to get published, Fiona cleaned my house each week. There’s only so much a person can do after all, and it has to be said cleaning our house during those manic years was fairly low down on the list of my priorities. But Fiona is a woman of many talents and she certainly possesses one that I so don’t have: sewing and dressmaking. So over the years she’s also made a few garments based on the pattern of a favourite garment that I was particularly fond of, and she’s also done some clothing alterations for both of us. My skills with needles and thread are limited to sewing on buttons, and taking up hems on John’s too-long pairs of jeans. Anything else is beyond me. But this fabulous model is the pièce de résistance – along with the beautiful crocheted knee warmer she gave me last year. This was when winter was approaching and so determined was I to finish writing the book, I decided to get out of bed at the insane hour of 5am and get in a solid hour’s writing in before dog walking and the demands of the day took over. Fiona was also one of many Tasmanians who needed to be circumspect about her opinion of the pulp mill. It was a project that polarised people, including families and friendships. She was one of several who passed on snippets of useful information, but on the basis of anonymity so it couldn’t be sheeted home to her.  Needless to say Fiona will be one of those whose contribution will be acknowledged – when this book is finally accepted by a publisher.
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