Susan, this post is for you. You were wondering about my stove. Well, like everything else in our house, it has a story. 
Philo remembers long drives to the small town where his grandfather lived, the small frame house and the garden with rows of beets and onions .
Where Philo and I grew up, even if there were no rows of vegetables, most yards had some kind of food plants - apple or pear trees, a grape vine for jelly, a clump of rhubarb or a raspberry thicket.
Garden #1 (1973-1977) had several large wild cherry trees on the lot but there was a sunny place behind the garage to grow beans and tomatoes and squash and peppers.
Garden #2 (1977-1987) was on a lot with old pear and crabapple trees and wild grape vines. Philo fitted the main bed into the semi-sunny corner of the back fence, eventually adding raspberry trellises and garden grapes. 
Another patch in sun on the opposite fence let the kids in the sandbox watch the zucchinis grow and a trellis on the side of the garage let us enjoy the new Sugar Snap peas.
At Garden #3 (1987-1999) we had a reasonably large space at the back of a long narrow lot. Even though the lot was overhung with wild cherries, mulberries and Box elders, this garden really pumped out peppers and tomatoes! Philo had all the salsa he could wish for but I never had enough zucchini. The fence helped keep out rabbits and groundhogs but couldn't save the squash from the squirrels. 
Then we moved to Texas, and instead of owning arable land we lived in the deer-filled Austin hills. At Garden # 4 we did our best to grow a few peppers in pots on the deck and tomatoes inside this 4 and 1/2 foot tall, deer-resistant wire enclosure. The soaker hose failed in this situation and the deer nipped every leaf that dared to stray outside the wire. 
Philo started our current Kitchen Garden #5 in fall .., a few months after we moved to this house and had Swiss Chard & tomatoes by June ... As usual, the plot isn't in full sun, the soil is heavy clay and tree roots creep in from the other side of the fence, but after 5 years of stooping over to fit into the wire house, this feels like a real garden!
Instead of either Kitchen Garden or Victory Garden, Yolanda Elizabet uses the term Potager, encompassing not only her decorative vegetable plantings, but grapevines, fruit trees, cold frames, a greenhouse & conservatory. That very cool word may be a little too grand for a 9 X 10 sort-of-raised bed of tomatoes, peppers and a few salad vegetables. We have no greenhouse or conservatory but we've grown wonderful lemons, we hope each year for loquats, pomegranates and figs, were astonished by a crop of edible pecans one memorable autumn and all year long use the herbs planted in troughs and tucked into flower beds.
Marjoram and thyme grow in the hypertufa trough above, along with a plant of Italian parsley shared by Rock Rose Jenny. 
No matter how long you garden, there are new things to learn. We no longer incorporate pecan leaves from our two large trees into the soil, but once the juglone-free Arizona Ash leaves fell this winter we had enough to redo part of the garden using a modified version of Renee's lasagna method. 
We used timbers to hold up the 'lasagna' in two areas of the garden, one 3' X 4' square and another 2' X 3', making layers of existing soil, decomposed granite, various composts and the dry leaves, then watered regularly and waited.
The front edge got a sprinkling of radish and spinach seeds, some shallots and a line of red onions. About 10 days ago I dug the rest of the bed over and made cedar mulch paths. I hunted around to find the soaker hose and decided to give it another try. 
Last week Philo revised and reinforced the Tomato Scaffolding from last summer and we set it into place. On Sunday we planted a few tomato and pepper plants, adding more soil, compost and granite as we planted. 'Juliet' already has a few flowers but I'm still trying to decide whether it's a good idea in this climate to cover the soaker hose with mulch - what do you think? 
Even if the drought breaks, the intense summers mean we can't get yields in Austin like the ones in Illinois, but we'll enjoy whatever we can get!
In the back of the garden I'm experimenting with an old wooden box discarded by my youngest son and his friends. For years the guys kept it behind the shed, hauling it out once in awhile to use as a backstop. After long exposure to Austin weather one end started to rot off and the box was moved to the trash area, waiting for Bulky Trash Day. But then I had the idea to talk Philo into fixing the bad end and drilling drainage holes in the bottom. I lined it with roll window screen, put it near the fence where nothing ever grows, filled it with potting soil and even though it was a little late in the season, planted seeds. To keep the squirrels and birds out of it I covered the soil with some old racks from the garage. 
On a recent visit my son took a look at the vegetable garden, and I showed him the seeds sprouting in the repurposed ammo box, saying that it might need a decorative sign. 
My son knows me too well...he raised an eyebrow and asked, "Peas on Earth?"
Only I would follow up a mountain climb on Saturday with two more on Sunday. My riding partner Martin and I decided to hammer a couple of climbs named Mt Tamborine and Beechmont. The fact that we did it on an Sunday meant an early start to beat the Mt Tamborine traffic that usually picks up around 9am on a Sunday morning. My legs were already complaining before we started the "warm up" 12% climb of Wongawallan, and they screamed even louder on Mt Tamborine. However, the thing about 14% gradients is that they generally don't last very long.
Further along we took the crazy descent down the "goat track" into Canungra. I actually don't mind this descent, as the switchbacks add some serious character to it. For my part, I simply took my time here, and enjoyed the views over Mt Misery and surrounds. It all reminded me that sometime I'll have to do another climb of the Darlington Range. As it was, today we had other fish to fry. We passed Sharp Park, which is significant as the destination of the overnighter that kicked off my cycle touring a little over 10 years ago, and commenced the ascent.
This can be a long and demanding ascent on a hot day. Fortunately it was unseasonally cool for late October, meaning it was merely "warm". Martin had fresher legs than I did, so he took off and I decided to coast at my own pace. This climb can also be desceptive as it climbs a spur of the Darlington Range, before switching to the higher Beechmont Range. I checked the time at the summit and was shocked to find that we were 10 minutes ahead of the schedule I had in my mind at the start of the ride. I'm still not sure how that happened.
The view switched from Canungra Valley to Numinbah Valley as we crossed the range and coasted along the top to the store at Lower Beechmont, and some vital food before the final stretch home. The 7km descent that followed passed relatively uneventfully, as did the final rolling hills through Gilston that serve no purpose save for adding a few hundred extra metres of climbing. Ultimately we finished about 15 minutes ahead of schedule. Another great day in the mountains.
...next to the Hite Cove Trail near Yosemite. It's spectacular there right now!
I'm not saying where that picture is taken from, because nobody would believe me if I did. On Saturday morning Martin and I decided to go for a century ride on relatively short notice, heading through the relatively flat stretch through Ormeau and Yatala (with only one noteworthy climb at Upper Ormeau), before doubling back on Stanmore Road to Mt Tamborine, and returning over Wongawallan. That was the plan. I actually "slowed" us a little by forgetting my repair kit early, but it didn't really slow us at all, because the time I spent going back to retrieve it would have just been expended sitting at a red light at the Bermuda Street/Hooker Boulevard intersection. In fact, I think I timed it pretty well, arriving just as that particular light was turning green.
In a strange way, I was actually enjoying the early stretch to Upper Ormeau. Flat rides aren't normally my thing, but I guess I hadn't been in that area for a while. I certainly hadn't taken the detour to Upper Ormeau for a while -- and that's a situation I'll have to rectify more often. We still have a dirt road behind a quarry to explore up there at some point. The contrast between the flat plains and the vegetation up here is actually quite startling.
The only other interesting thing that happened on the flat stretch was me wondering where a dirt track off the western M1 service road went. One of the local yokels (a kid on a trail bike) had an answer -- albeit not one that fired any great enthusiasm in either myself or Martin. We declined to ride it this time on the grounds that Martin was on a roadbike, when the yokel looked at Martin and said "bit of a f*ckin' pussy eh mate?". I'm not entirely sure he realised that he was talking to someone who has actually placed highly in 24 hour MTB races on much rougher terrain than that particular track, but that didn't stop us having a laugh about it later on.
It felt good to return to Mt Tamborine. It was the first time I've climbed the northern approach of it in over a year, so I decided to make a statement. I was actually surprised at how good I felt, and how easily the mountain seemed to crumble. I felt so good, I decided to double back after cresting the summit and decided to ride the last bit of the climb again.
There was one more bit of drama. On Wongawallan I took off again, largely because I was feeling so good on the climbs. On the descent I copped a bug in my right eye at 65km/h. I held it together calmly until I had cleared the descent and reached the flat, where I could wash it out. After doing this I noticed that Martin hadn't caught up to me. This was a concern given that he usually catches me on the descents. Eventually I turned back and saw him free-wheeling down the slopes, before he reached the flat bit and told me to "spot the missing bit". He'd snapped a chain on the climb. He didn't have a chain-breaker, and I realised at that moment that mine was still packed away with the things I took to New Zealand. I suppose that gives us something to moan about.
As it was, Martin was able to phone someone to come and get him, while I just completed the relatively flat ride home through Oxenford and Paradise Point. The fact that I had a tailwind meant that I didn't bother stopping at any of the bakeries. I regretted that a little when I reached Broadbeach, but with just 3km to go, it didn't concern me unduly. 163km in the end, with 1,495 metres of climbing. More importantly, I know there's one item I won't be thinking of lightly next time.
autumn berries and hips at their loveliest. A riot of glorious reds and deep juicy purples, which work so well against their lovely green leaves. I find those colour combinations so exciting and utterly autumnal (actually they make me feel as though Yuletide is on the way, but I don't want to start that in September!!). There are so many berries and rosehips that I wonder whether we are in for a really bad winter (or is that an old wives tale?) or could they be a consequence of the really bad winter which we had last year?
It is also useful for helping you to get to sleep. This is not based on scientific evidence!
We will be heading back to the forgotten orchard to get some more of the apples, we tried one when we got home and found that it is crisp, with a nicely balanced mix of sharp and sweet. Too good to be left to rot.
Ian and Be-Bop Rock.
Autumn in the Icicle.
Hiking out.
