Time for a Plan

Quite literally.

Here is a plan of the property. It is about 25m squared and contains four adjacent dwelling units, shown here in blue.

The area I am using for my garden is shown in white.

There is a small strip right in front, by the pavement (sidewalk), with a wire fence running through the middle of it. I had one crop of snow peas growing up this fence. Those plants are now finished. On the inside of the fence, I have mint and lavendar, both transplanted from my former garden, across the street.

At the back of the house, there is a larger patch, consisting of one narrow strip along the north side of the building and a somewhat wider one along the west side of the building. Both are overshadowed by the eaves.

A Non-Expert in an Ancient New Land

Not only am I not an expert gardener, but I'm not an expert Gippslander either. Everything here is new to me, even if many man-made things are familiar. Looking closely, for instance, the grass is not the same; the weeds are not the same. Not only do they not look the same, but they clearly don't live the same way either. Nor does the sun work the same way: being in the north is no substantial change, but being so strong when it is out, is.

We are at the latitude of the Maghreb, Cyprus, Afghanistan, and California, but right next to the chilly, swirling Southern Ocean. Without the sun, cool winds blow up from the south; if we are lucky, they bring rain. With the sun, we are baked dry in a few hours. There is no balmy Mediterranean Sea sloshing about like a luke-warm bath. There are no Alps or Carpathians tellilng us we are not yet at the pole. Native plants know to dig deep and fast, racing what little water lands on the ground as it plummets to Earth's centre through solid clay.