Before I begin today's post I want to let you know that the lovely organic cafe where we ate in Hahndorf is The Seasonal Garden & Cafe. It doesn't have a webpage but, if you're on Facebook you can find it here.
In the lead up to Christmas I read several blog posts about the merits of buying and giving second-hand presents. It wasn't something I'd ever done before. Frankly, it was something I was embarrassed to try. That embarrassment stems from my anxiety about gift giving. Generally speaking, if I'm not 100% sure that someone will like the present I give I buy a gift certificate. There is nothing wrong with gift certificates; I love getting them. I prefer to give and receive personal presents that show that someone really knows what I like. I guess it's a way of saying to someone that you know them well.
I've always had mixed feelings about regifting, as well. Part of me thinks it's insulting. Even though once you give a gift it's out of your hands, it upsets me to think someone may want to give away my gift. As you can tell, when God was giving out self-esteem I was on a toilet break and missed out. I've stored many a gift I've received over the years for fear of giving it away and offending someone. Either that or I've furtively gone to an op shop in dark glasses and head scarf to donate it to charity, hoping the giver doesn't shop there.
Yesterday, however, I had an "a-ha moment". It all started earlier when I decided to buy The Girlfriend a Stephen King book for her birthday. Now, she has only been The Girlfriend for four months so I didn't want to scare her with an expensive present; I just wanted to give her a little something to mark the occasion. Books are not cheap here in Australia but the young lady enjoys to read and we'd already given her a little bracelet for Christmas. Teenage Son asked subtle questions and ascertained that she loves second-hand books. You probably gathered from yesterday's post that the book shops we went to were second-hand.
As I sat making her card yesterday evening it occurred to me that books are meant to be read and shared. It's great to keep favourites but it's also great to pass books on. Why let them sit and gather dust when they could be in circulation for countless people to read? I realised that, not only did I not care if The Girlfriend regifted, donated or sold the books after she'd read them, but I'd be happy for her to do so; that way others could enjoy the books. I further realised that she wouldn't care whether they were second-hand or not, only that she now owned two of the books on her wish list. The Girlfriend was thrilled when she got her present this morning and I received a heartfelt hug from her.
That wasn't all, however. I then began to extrapolate that thought to all gifts. I sit here typing, wearing a second-hand dress my daughter bought for me for my birthday just over a year ago. (I picked it out.) It's pretty, cool and comfortable on our very hot day. I have another one bought at the same time. There is no way I would have let Teenage Daughter buy me two new dresses - too expensive for her. It simply didn't matter that they were second-hand; they were exactly what I wanted. I've never had a problem with other people buying second-hand presents; I just couldn't imagine doing it myself. I didn't want to offend anyone. Now I realise though that it isn't about where the gift is purchased; it's about the gift itself. So, from now on, I'm going to be more watchful on my visits to op shops because you never know when the perfect gift for someone may appear.
As for regifting or giving away gifts. I don't care about that anymore either. The gift may not be a book but, if I give someone something they don't want, need or like, I hope they will pass it on to someone who will.
Cheers.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
A Mixed but Delightful Day
Yesterday I accidentally got to spend a wonderful day with Teenage Son. He was meant to go elsewhere but it fell through so I suggested he may want to come with me birthday shopping for The Girlfriend. I had a list of Stephen King books that she's keen to read.
The catch was that he had to sit through my forty five minute naturopathic appointment.
He brought his book and when my irises had been read, I'd been massaged and punctured with needles, Teenage Son and I set out. Our first stop was Maisie's Books on Jetty Rd at Brighton, a short walk from my naturopath's rooms. Whilst we had fun browsing, we couldn't find any of the books we wanted.
We hopped in the car for the short drive to Glenelg. It was a warm day so our premier beachside suburb was packed. Having lived there for several years, however, I knew where I was going and where to park. Despite that it was still a pleasant ten minute walk to Glenelg Book Exchange where the owner not only showed us where the Stephen King books were located but took my list and took the books off the shelf for me. I bought a hardback copy of Misery and a paperback copy of Pet Sematary. An Anne Rice I haven't read yet also caught my eye so I grabbed that one, too. When I got to the check-out I learnt there was a 20% discount on all books that day. Things just kept getting better.
We moved to Glenelg in 1981 and Mum lived there until her death 25 fives years later. When we moved there the book exchange was in a smaller shop. Glenelg had everything but department stores and a library. Mum used the book exchange as her library; she'd buy books and then trade them back. Even after the Glenelg library opened she continued to use both places. Needless to say, I was saddened to learn that it's closing. The owner told me he has other projects he wants to work on and the used book business isn't as profitable as it used to be. I was kind of glad Mum wasn't around to see the end of her beloved book store.
Teenage Son and I then went a couple of doors down to a local cafe, Grind It, for lunch. Teenage Son loved it and I suspect it was less to do with the food and more to do with the jazz trumpet numbers coming through the speakers.
On the way home Teenage Son suggested that if I needed any groceries I could stop on the way home. It was when we got to our local shopping centre that things went a little pear shaped as far as Footprints went. It all started when I decided that the best way to cope with turning 50 in 363 days would be to begin a red hat and purple clothing collection*. I told Teenage Daughter who told me there were some cute red hats at our local two dollar shop. I even went there with her and tried one on. I looked good in it. So, I bought one yesterday with no regard at all for who had made it or where it came from. Aaargh.
Cheers.
The catch was that he had to sit through my forty five minute naturopathic appointment.
He brought his book and when my irises had been read, I'd been massaged and punctured with needles, Teenage Son and I set out. Our first stop was Maisie's Books on Jetty Rd at Brighton, a short walk from my naturopath's rooms. Whilst we had fun browsing, we couldn't find any of the books we wanted.
We hopped in the car for the short drive to Glenelg. It was a warm day so our premier beachside suburb was packed. Having lived there for several years, however, I knew where I was going and where to park. Despite that it was still a pleasant ten minute walk to Glenelg Book Exchange where the owner not only showed us where the Stephen King books were located but took my list and took the books off the shelf for me. I bought a hardback copy of Misery and a paperback copy of Pet Sematary. An Anne Rice I haven't read yet also caught my eye so I grabbed that one, too. When I got to the check-out I learnt there was a 20% discount on all books that day. Things just kept getting better.
We moved to Glenelg in 1981 and Mum lived there until her death 25 fives years later. When we moved there the book exchange was in a smaller shop. Glenelg had everything but department stores and a library. Mum used the book exchange as her library; she'd buy books and then trade them back. Even after the Glenelg library opened she continued to use both places. Needless to say, I was saddened to learn that it's closing. The owner told me he has other projects he wants to work on and the used book business isn't as profitable as it used to be. I was kind of glad Mum wasn't around to see the end of her beloved book store.
Teenage Son and I then went a couple of doors down to a local cafe, Grind It, for lunch. Teenage Son loved it and I suspect it was less to do with the food and more to do with the jazz trumpet numbers coming through the speakers.
On the way home Teenage Son suggested that if I needed any groceries I could stop on the way home. It was when we got to our local shopping centre that things went a little pear shaped as far as Footprints went. It all started when I decided that the best way to cope with turning 50 in 363 days would be to begin a red hat and purple clothing collection*. I told Teenage Daughter who told me there were some cute red hats at our local two dollar shop. I even went there with her and tried one on. I looked good in it. So, I bought one yesterday with no regard at all for who had made it or where it came from. Aaargh.
Cheers.
*Warning
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
Jenny Joseph
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
A Footprints Kind of Day
Husband took a cheese making course some time ago with local cheese producers, Udder Delights. He found out a few months ago through a friend that people who like Udder Delights on Facebook can get some great bargains and/or freebies on occasion so he signed up. Last week he was able to get a substantial amount of cheese for a greatly reduced price. The only catch was that it had to picked up from the Udder Delights shop in Hahndorf last Saturday.
In the absence of our rabbi, various congregation members are leading service at our synagogue. Last Saturday, the children and I did so. Instead of going home immediately afterwards, we incorporated the cheese pick-up into the drive. We filled up on challah - delicious Jewish plaited bread - because it was around lunch time when the service finished and set out for Hahndorf in the Adelaide Hills.
Driving through the hills isn't the most inspiring experience at this time of year. The landscape is slightly depressing because the grass is dead from the dry and heat of summer. Nevertheless, we were all excited; Husband and I hadn't been to Hahndorf for years and neither of the children had ever been.
We walked the main street for a little while in search of somewhere to have lunch. It was awash in a myriad of small, independent eateries. The one which caught our eyes, though, was the vego, pinko, tree-hugger option. We couldn't go past the sign which read organic local produce. Hahndorf is a Germanic town and many tourists would feel the need for a bratwurst with sauerkraut and mustard for lunch. That being the case, the manager greeted us with an explanation of the menu which included a caution that if we wanted a meat based Germanic lunch we should perhaps try elsewhere. We assured her we did not and were led out the back to a courtyard filled with mismatched furniture. We loved it already without even trying the food.
Husband, Teenage Son and I shared two local produce and one salad plate, and Teenage Daughter had toast with tomato, basil and feta. She also helped us eat ours as they were overflowing. The produce plate had cheese, kalamata olives, and two veggie dips that were thick and chunky like chutney. It came with fresh crusty bread. The salad plate was overflowing with a variety of salads from green to bean to potato. A crunchy carrot one seasoned with coriander dressing captured our taste buds. Then the bill came and we thought we might have to do a runner; not because it was expensive but because we thought the waitress had added it up wrongly. She hadn't. Not only was the food wonderful and the vibe good but the prices were exceedingly reasonable. I'd highly recommend it if I could remember the name. Finding it out is a work in progress - I'll get back to you on that.
Following lunch we dawdled to Udder Delights dipping in and out of local food shops on the way. Finally, Husband picked up his cheese and who should we see there collecting his cheese but the friend who'd told Husband to follow Udder Delights on Facebook. That's Adelaide!
In the late afternoon Husband and I enjoyed some of the cheese with local beer under our pergola. Then Husband cooked our dinner using veggies and herbs from our garden to make a ratatouille.
It was a perfect Footprints kind of day.
Cheers.
In the absence of our rabbi, various congregation members are leading service at our synagogue. Last Saturday, the children and I did so. Instead of going home immediately afterwards, we incorporated the cheese pick-up into the drive. We filled up on challah - delicious Jewish plaited bread - because it was around lunch time when the service finished and set out for Hahndorf in the Adelaide Hills.
Driving through the hills isn't the most inspiring experience at this time of year. The landscape is slightly depressing because the grass is dead from the dry and heat of summer. Nevertheless, we were all excited; Husband and I hadn't been to Hahndorf for years and neither of the children had ever been.
We walked the main street for a little while in search of somewhere to have lunch. It was awash in a myriad of small, independent eateries. The one which caught our eyes, though, was the vego, pinko, tree-hugger option. We couldn't go past the sign which read organic local produce. Hahndorf is a Germanic town and many tourists would feel the need for a bratwurst with sauerkraut and mustard for lunch. That being the case, the manager greeted us with an explanation of the menu which included a caution that if we wanted a meat based Germanic lunch we should perhaps try elsewhere. We assured her we did not and were led out the back to a courtyard filled with mismatched furniture. We loved it already without even trying the food.
Husband, Teenage Son and I shared two local produce and one salad plate, and Teenage Daughter had toast with tomato, basil and feta. She also helped us eat ours as they were overflowing. The produce plate had cheese, kalamata olives, and two veggie dips that were thick and chunky like chutney. It came with fresh crusty bread. The salad plate was overflowing with a variety of salads from green to bean to potato. A crunchy carrot one seasoned with coriander dressing captured our taste buds. Then the bill came and we thought we might have to do a runner; not because it was expensive but because we thought the waitress had added it up wrongly. She hadn't. Not only was the food wonderful and the vibe good but the prices were exceedingly reasonable. I'd highly recommend it if I could remember the name. Finding it out is a work in progress - I'll get back to you on that.
Following lunch we dawdled to Udder Delights dipping in and out of local food shops on the way. Finally, Husband picked up his cheese and who should we see there collecting his cheese but the friend who'd told Husband to follow Udder Delights on Facebook. That's Adelaide!
In the late afternoon Husband and I enjoyed some of the cheese with local beer under our pergola. Then Husband cooked our dinner using veggies and herbs from our garden to make a ratatouille.
It was a perfect Footprints kind of day.
Cheers.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
The Great Kitchen Clean Out of 2012
There is a New Age belief that whatever you give out comes back to you, not just emotionally but materially. For example, if you give a lot of money to charity the universe will reward you with lots of money. Not really sure about that but over the years I've given away a lot of things to charity. I also seem to be constantly being given things. Or more accurately perhaps, inheriting things.
When my grandmother passed away in the U.S. I'm not entirely sure my mother gave any of her stuff away. Several months after her death large shipping containers full of my grandmother's things arrived on my mother's doorstep. We had great fun looking through it and picking out what we wanted. My mother kept most of it and lived alone in a three bedroom house in which every piece of furniture, nook and cranny was stuffed with things. It's hard to let go of your mother's things, even if that's all they are: things.
After my mother passed away my sister and I spent a day together in her kitchen dividing up her kitchen things. It was like Christmas. Most of what I took wasn't so much because I wanted or needed it; it was because it reminded me of my mother or grandmother and, therefore, created a link to someone no longer in my life. In addition to that, some of the things I took seemed like a good idea at the time...
With Footprints came gratitude and with gratitude came the realisation that I had more than enough material things in my life. Furthermore, no amount of material objects was going to either bring back my mother or grandmother or strengthen the bonds I already had with each of these wonderful women.
That being the case, Husband and I spent the past two days culling in the kitchen. And I mean culling. We have boxes and boxes of things we don't use, need or love to give away to charity. I think there is more stuff in the boxes than in our kitchen cupboards now. The only things I've kept of my mother's or grandmother's are the ones I actually use. The exception is my grandmother's spoon rest which I used to use but kept breaking. The lines where it's been repaired are glaringly obvious. Nevertheless, I intend to buy a plate stand and proudly display it on my now bare kitchen counter. I just love that spoon rest and every time I look at it I think of happy times in my grandmother's kitchen which was the hub of her house. Oh, and her coffee cup is on the counter too, holding chopsticks. (We eat a lot of Asian cuisine. Not sure what she would think of her cup's current use but I rarely drink coffee and tea doesn't taste good in her coffee cup.)
Husband and I feel tired but liberated. The feeling after de-cluttering is akin to having a weight lifted off your shoulders. Furthermore, I feel great that our unwanted stuff may find homes where it's loved and help a charity at the same time. I just hope that the so-called laws of the universe don't give me lots of new stuff to fill the gaps. I like the gaps.
Cheers.
When my grandmother passed away in the U.S. I'm not entirely sure my mother gave any of her stuff away. Several months after her death large shipping containers full of my grandmother's things arrived on my mother's doorstep. We had great fun looking through it and picking out what we wanted. My mother kept most of it and lived alone in a three bedroom house in which every piece of furniture, nook and cranny was stuffed with things. It's hard to let go of your mother's things, even if that's all they are: things.
After my mother passed away my sister and I spent a day together in her kitchen dividing up her kitchen things. It was like Christmas. Most of what I took wasn't so much because I wanted or needed it; it was because it reminded me of my mother or grandmother and, therefore, created a link to someone no longer in my life. In addition to that, some of the things I took seemed like a good idea at the time...
With Footprints came gratitude and with gratitude came the realisation that I had more than enough material things in my life. Furthermore, no amount of material objects was going to either bring back my mother or grandmother or strengthen the bonds I already had with each of these wonderful women.
That being the case, Husband and I spent the past two days culling in the kitchen. And I mean culling. We have boxes and boxes of things we don't use, need or love to give away to charity. I think there is more stuff in the boxes than in our kitchen cupboards now. The only things I've kept of my mother's or grandmother's are the ones I actually use. The exception is my grandmother's spoon rest which I used to use but kept breaking. The lines where it's been repaired are glaringly obvious. Nevertheless, I intend to buy a plate stand and proudly display it on my now bare kitchen counter. I just love that spoon rest and every time I look at it I think of happy times in my grandmother's kitchen which was the hub of her house. Oh, and her coffee cup is on the counter too, holding chopsticks. (We eat a lot of Asian cuisine. Not sure what she would think of her cup's current use but I rarely drink coffee and tea doesn't taste good in her coffee cup.)
Husband and I feel tired but liberated. The feeling after de-cluttering is akin to having a weight lifted off your shoulders. Furthermore, I feel great that our unwanted stuff may find homes where it's loved and help a charity at the same time. I just hope that the so-called laws of the universe don't give me lots of new stuff to fill the gaps. I like the gaps.
Cheers.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
An ex-pat American's Thoughts on the Sandy Hook shootings
I've been fuming since the Sandy Hook shootings. I do it every time there's a mass shooting in the U.S. That makes me angry quite a lot of the time. Up until yesterday I simply failed to understand why the U.S. doesn't change its gun laws. I was at the hairdresser and he posing the same questions. As he did so, however, I felt personally attacked; not because I don't believe in gun control but because a great number of American family members who I love and respect and believe to be intelligent, well-educated people don't. As he ranted and raved I pondered how it could be so that that was the case.
Then it hit me. As much as I - and other Australians - are at a loss to understand why gun laws aren't toughened in the U.S., the Americans who don't want tougher gun laws are at the same loss to understand our point of view. Both sides think they're right.
I'd be generalising if I were to suggest that all Americans support guns and no Australians do. The fundamental difference, I believe, is cultural. Guns are part of American history, culture and psyche. Try changing that. Yes, we've got guns here and, despite the introduction of stricter gun laws sixteen years ago, a young man went on a shooting spree at Monash university ten years. Guns are not part of our culture, however. Most everyday Australians simply do not feel the need to own a gun for protection whereas many Americans do.
So, today, I go above and beyond my usual gratitude for being middle-class in a Western country. Today I'm grateful that:
For a different perspective from a fellow Aussie blogger check out Trifectagirl's most recent post. It's very insightful and makes me wish I'd written it.
Finally, I could not finish this post without acknowledging of the children and teachers who were killed or injured at Sandy Hook elementary school and their family and friends who are going through a horrific time at the moment. My heart goes out to all of them.
Cheers
Then it hit me. As much as I - and other Australians - are at a loss to understand why gun laws aren't toughened in the U.S., the Americans who don't want tougher gun laws are at the same loss to understand our point of view. Both sides think they're right.
I'd be generalising if I were to suggest that all Americans support guns and no Australians do. The fundamental difference, I believe, is cultural. Guns are part of American history, culture and psyche. Try changing that. Yes, we've got guns here and, despite the introduction of stricter gun laws sixteen years ago, a young man went on a shooting spree at Monash university ten years. Guns are not part of our culture, however. Most everyday Australians simply do not feel the need to own a gun for protection whereas many Americans do.
So, today, I go above and beyond my usual gratitude for being middle-class in a Western country. Today I'm grateful that:
- my parents decided after their two year working holiday in Australia forty one years ago to stay
- I grew up in a country where guns are not part of the culture
- when a disgruntled student walked onto my daughter's school campus with a score to settle he was carrying a sword, not a semi-automatic weapon, and no one was killed or even injured
- following the worst shooting massacre in the world, which sadly was here in 1996, there was "a ban on all semi-automatic rifles and all semi-automatic and pump-action shotguns, and a tightly restrictive system of licensing and ownership controls."
- the thirty five deaths at the above shooting galvanised both sides of politics, as well as the general public, so that the victims didn't die in vain. (It was still senseless and a tragic loss of life.)
- the most recent mass shooting here was ten years ago
For a different perspective from a fellow Aussie blogger check out Trifectagirl's most recent post. It's very insightful and makes me wish I'd written it.
Finally, I could not finish this post without acknowledging of the children and teachers who were killed or injured at Sandy Hook elementary school and their family and friends who are going through a horrific time at the moment. My heart goes out to all of them.
Cheers
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Christmukkah presents
I went out and did my usual Christmas smash and grab yesterday. I headed to our large regional shopping centre armed with a list, credit card, shopping bags and a big bottle of water.
In just over an hour I had bought all the presents on the list. The remaining ones are few and are things I want to buy on-line or somewhere else.
Furthermore, I incorporated it into picking up Teenage Son and Girlfriend from school.
I mostly bought gift cards to stores that at least have an 'ethical sourcing policy' which means that, in theory at least, they don't purchase goods made under unethical conditions. I'm not convinced the Coles group stores really are that altruistic but it's the lesser of the evils when there are teenage nephews and nieces that you don't really know what to buy. The bulk of the rest were bought at Oxfam where I got an unwrapped present ( I love those!), a bracelet for The Girlfriend and some sauces for a good food loving friend. The Boyfriend is getting a DVD. My own children want to go to Womadelaide for the whole three days so we're paying for part of their tickets. As for each other, Husband and I have decided to buy an electric mixer. We've done the research and, unfortunately, it's a case of the best of a bad lot. We can't seem to find what we want second-hand but will keep looking for now. If we can't find one, we'll buy one which we hope will last.
My sister and her family will receive a family pass to the baseball and my father-in-law a gift card to a local, independent store near him.
Stepmum is a Christmas baby. She and Dear Old Dad are planning to downsize so I don't want to buy her anything material for her birthday. When Teenage Son and I were visiting them recently they introduced us to their favourite restaurant so I plan to arrange a meal there paid for by us to celebrate her birthday.
Chag Sameach!
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Our Victory Garden
I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. Nor have I not felt like blogging. I've been travelling - again. That's for another post, another day and, believe me, I have lots to write about. Today, however, I'm writing about our back garden.
Seven years ago we adopted a Border Collie cross puppy. At the time we had a lush back lawn. The Dog, however, loves to run and chase birds. He never catches any but it amuses him all the same. Soon, dirt running paths appeared where The Dog had been. They kept getting deeper and deeper. Somewhere along the line, our state began to undergo watering restrictions due to drought. In there, too, my mother became terminally ill and passed away. Needless to say, the lush lawn eventually died, too, due to abuse and neglect.
We've been trying to replant but the poor seedlings don't stand a chance thanks to The Dog. They either got peed or trampled on. Then, to add insult to injury, he tried to dig up the cat. That's when we knew we had to rethink the whole back garden. I hit on the idea of raised beds. The dog could run around them, the plants would be too high for him to pee on, one could sit above the cat's grave (and we could attach the plaque our vet sent us) and there would be no undergrowth at ground level to attract snakes. Win.
The Garden Whisperer came and did it when I was away. (I travelled without Husband this time.) When I left the garden was a dust bowl. This is how it looked when I got back.
We're growing salad greens, tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, strawberries, basil, chives, mint, oregano, chilies, thyme, parsley, comfrey, bok choy, joie choy, Asian greens and coriander. That may not be all; that's what I remember. You can also see that The Dog still has plenty of room to run. Mulch has been laid where it's bare so no more dust and dirt everywhere.
Cheers.
Seven years ago we adopted a Border Collie cross puppy. At the time we had a lush back lawn. The Dog, however, loves to run and chase birds. He never catches any but it amuses him all the same. Soon, dirt running paths appeared where The Dog had been. They kept getting deeper and deeper. Somewhere along the line, our state began to undergo watering restrictions due to drought. In there, too, my mother became terminally ill and passed away. Needless to say, the lush lawn eventually died, too, due to abuse and neglect.
We've been trying to replant but the poor seedlings don't stand a chance thanks to The Dog. They either got peed or trampled on. Then, to add insult to injury, he tried to dig up the cat. That's when we knew we had to rethink the whole back garden. I hit on the idea of raised beds. The dog could run around them, the plants would be too high for him to pee on, one could sit above the cat's grave (and we could attach the plaque our vet sent us) and there would be no undergrowth at ground level to attract snakes. Win.
The Garden Whisperer came and did it when I was away. (I travelled without Husband this time.) When I left the garden was a dust bowl. This is how it looked when I got back.
We're growing salad greens, tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, strawberries, basil, chives, mint, oregano, chilies, thyme, parsley, comfrey, bok choy, joie choy, Asian greens and coriander. That may not be all; that's what I remember. You can also see that The Dog still has plenty of room to run. Mulch has been laid where it's bare so no more dust and dirt everywhere.
Cheers.
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