Laugh in the Sun

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Archive for the tag “photos”

Autumn Garden

First off – Simon took these photos; photography and the love of it has re-entered his life, so if you see any fantastic photos on any of my social media you can rest assured HE took them.  BUT…and it’s a big but (they’re the best kind) quite often the photos of his that I feature only came to happen because I said:  “that tree outside is so beautiful, you should take a photo of it” or “Could you help me with the ducks for a minute – oh, and why don’t you bring your camera?”.

Simon is an inside kind of guy…a gadget guy, an Apple man.  Not that he doesn’t appreciate the outdoors or where we live – he totally does, and he gets the shock of his life when he gets outside and notices there’s been a season change, he is simply wired differently to me.

So with our tree turning ruby – autumn came.  And then a week later, winter came.  No joke.  Frosts so hard and white even the She-oaks on the fence line were white.  And as a result, I had to pick the rogue pumpkins.

Can you believe Simon was genuinely confused when I asked him to photograph this?  When I look at this picture, or indeed the real thing (which still sits on the front verandah on my favorite chair enjoying the sun) I feel comforted and prepared, happy and (somewhat) fulfilled.  We won’t starve.  When he looks at it he sees dirt, cobwebs and a future of wrist aching pumpkin chopping ‘cos that’s the man job around here.

I’ve just picked one more hidden pumpkin, revealed by a frost melted rogue tomato bush – and now I have a large black plastic tree pot full of a rainbow of tomatoes – the last of the season, so now I’m practically giggling.  And did you know that the duck egg season picks up when the hens laying dies down?  It’s true.  So I have duck eggs, tomatoes and pumpkins.  I am absolutely beside myself.

Now, what on earth am I going to do with them all?

Rhubarb Thumb

Some people have black thumbs like Stepford Husband.  Most other people have green thumbs.  And for some reason, many of the people with green thumbs find their thumbs are greenier (greenier?  I think I need to slow down with the anti-inflammatorys), pardon, greener with particular plants.  My dad grows bonsai like some people grow grass.  My sister kills bonsai, but nasturtiums run Rapunzel-like through her garden.  My nasturtiums look like bonsai…miniature bonsai, but for me rhubarb is the plant that never fails.

This plant is a part of the original rhubarb plant that I had two houses ago.  Yes, that’s a vegie garden – you can see onions in the background?  It also grows weed.  You could eat weeds if you had to. And there are six asparagus plants waiting to pop up next year (please,please,please).

 This is my Grandma rhubarb.

The Grandma of this Grandma plant is at my family home, and I have eaten the rhubarb from it since I was a wee thing.

This is the daughter of my Grandma plant.
 It sits in the front veranda garden bed.  I love this rhubarb because Dad told me that it wouldn’t do any good in that spot.  I don’t want to grow up and no-one’s going to make me!

 This is Other Rhubarb Daughter (otherwise known as Company Rhubarb – is that weird?).  She’s the one I strip to give to visitors who enjoy rhubarb – she’s closest to where people park their car. 

 This is Newbie Rhubarb.  I’m not sure what I was thinking putting her there.  All of those things growing around her threaten to engulf her if they live up to their potential.  On the otherhand, she may defeat them all Mwahhahahah!  Stay tuned for a name change: Evil Rhubarb!

 This is…well this is Robert come to say ‘Helloo’ and why are you wandering around talking to yourself and do you have any carrots in your dressing gown pocket?

 No?  That’s very disappointing…Well scratch my bottom please and I’ll be on my way.

 

Finally, the surprise Rhubarbs, baby Rhubarbs if you will.

  This one gave me a real ‘What the…?’ moment.  It’s not anywhere that makes sense – kind of like my brain.

 And this one came about because a piece of rhubarb root from a compost pile apparently popped back to life.  This one is growing in a native plant garden bed.  She’s their English girlfriend.  Can you tell I didn’t play much with dolls when I was little?

I imagine anyone still reading is also a Rhubarb fan.  Here’s your reward.  My favorite flavour with rhubarb is strawberries.  I discovered this recipe when I found a punnet of squishy, but not furry, strawbs in the fridge.  The kids are picky and won’t eat fruit that has squish factor – except mangoes dammit!  So Strawberry and Rhubarb Crumble is one of our absolute favorite desserts.  Luckily, because we have to eat it quite a bit.  Naturally it could be ‘Rhubarb-by-itself Crumble’, or ‘Rhubarb & Apple Crumble’.  And it could feed many more than 5, just increase the ingrediants as you see fit.  It is very forgiving.  And good for you.  Sure it is.
Enjoy!

Strawberry and Rhubarb Crumble (a very flexy recipe and great for experimenting)

2 bunches rhubarb or an awkward armful from the garden – leaves removed and composted.
1 punnet of strawberries (or really as many as you like)
Rind and juice of an orange
3/4 to 1 cup sugar
knob of butter

For crumble:
1 cup flour (plain or wholemeal or mixed is fine)
1/2 cup ground almonds, or polenta, or rolled oats (or a mixture)
1/2 cup brown sugar
125g to 140g butter, chopped into cubes
1 cup blanched almonds, chopped (optional)
pinch of cinnamon

Preheat oven to 200 degrees C/ 400 degrees F.  Chop rhubarb into 2 cm pieces and pop into a saucepan with orange rind and juice, sugar and butter.  Bring to boil, reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes.  Don’t let it catch.  Remove from heat.  Meanwhile slice strawberries.  Tip rhubarb into baking dish with juices, add strawberries and stir slightly.

Make crumble by dumping all ingrediants, except for butter and any chopped nuts, into a bowl.  Give a stir to mix, then rub butter through with fingers until mixture looks like breadcrumbs – don’t make it too uniform.  Stir the chopped nuts through if using, then scatter crumble mixture over the rhubarb and strawberry mix.

Bake in oven 35 – 40 minutes until crisp and golden on top, with fruit bubbling through.  Remove and cool for a few minutes (sugary-fruit burns hurt!) then serve with cream, custard or ice cream. 

Eat leftovers for breakfast.

Put down the camera…

 I wanna go out.

 

 

 Hey Kid…let me out?

 

 Kid?

 

 

 Open the door, Kid!

 

 Really…I don’t want to have to hurt you…

 

 Look into my eyes, not around my eyes, but into my eyes…Kid….Kid?  Are you listening to me??

 

  You’re so dead, do you hear me?  Stop laughing!

Photo montage by Abbey (7)

Disclaimer: No children were hurt in the making of this feature.

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