If you look carefully at the photo below, you will notice raspberry canes growing in between apple trees. I can just imagine both of them together in a pie....
I love permaculture and companion planting. My brother, Gary, told me years ago that the gardeners of old would plant by the moon. They somehow knew what to plant depending on the phase of the moon. When the Machinist's Ouma was still alive, she often attempted to share her love of plants, flowers and trees with us. Random gifts of greenery in washed out jam tins were common. A week at our home and their demise was common too. It didn't stop her green-generosity, though. The Machinist reckons she'd be smiling down from Heaven if she could see us now, knowing all her efforts were worth it.
She must have sensed our potential....
Today, our garden is brimming with life. When we are in the pool, we are surrounded by trees - most of them fruit bearing. It's gotten to the stage that I have to transplant and / or give plants away.
Said raspberry canes were recently tranplanted to a damper spot, right up against the back orchard fence (corrugated zinc-allum, dug into the soil and cemented, for snake-prevention because of my Ophidiophobia). The Machinist surrounded the canes with thick lucerne mulch, and covered them with square mesh frames. Rusted. (Not the tin roof the B52's sing about).
With bum in air and head to the soil, I scoured the rest of the orchard for weeds, tugging madly at dominating thistles, while protected with leather welding gloves. It's a good job I'm hidden in the garden. How the Machinist must love me....
And talking of the Machinist, he made a delicious meal tonight. Ground beef with sauteed celery, fennel, herbs, red onions and carrots over rice noodles.
"Would you like some more, Babe, or do you want to leave room for a surprise I have for you? Or, would you like both?"
Come on, I had to. It's polite.
Later, the Machinist disappeared into the kitchen, and came back carrying two dishes of The Surprise. Cherries in Syrup with whipped cream.