Snow peas and a lovely new garden

I grew snow peas! Lovely little snow peas! They were delicious. I'd been ignoring the plant because it had fallen over and quite frankly, I was sick of trying to weave it in and out of the dodgy frame it was leaning against. Plus, most people who grow snow peas had their crop ages ago, while my plant was looking miserable.

Foolish Miss A. It had fallen over because it was covered in yummy goodness! Goodness is heavy.

There's something beautiful about growing food. When the first shoot pokes through a plain patch of dirt, it's delicate and sweet looking. It's hard to believe that such a tiny thing will produce food.

I love having my own yard. We had the super lovely Dan from Very Edible Gardens come out to do a permaculture design. I'm getting an orchard, chickens and a few vege beds. Best of all, I get all the things I love to eat. Including blueberries. It all seems a little bit unreal, and I asked for what I thought was impossible, but Dan was magic. He even included an area for the chapel and declared to Mr G that it was practical. HA HA HA! A serious promise is a serious promise. Even if it's completely mad.

I was a little surprised at how well the consultation went. I had time to ask all of my questions and Dan answered them without making me feel stupid. I know I want to be very hands-on and build my garden myself, but part of me now wants to use VEG to do it for me. Maybe I can bring them in at crucial points. Like planting time. And pruning time. And chicken buying time.

Anyway. Baby steps. I have a shovel and I've eaten my snow peas. Very exciting.

Table building for hopeless cases

I have borrowed three books about woodwork because it seems that I can't even remember the basics.

The picture is of a coffee table I made that has black velvet underneath a glass top. Forgive the tacky velvet effect and the strangely positioned legs, I was a teenager and thought it was cool. Actually, I still think the velvet is cool, so maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself. Anyway, these days, I'm sad to say that I look at timber and just draw blanks. In fact, I went into Bunnings to see what they had in stock and I buckled under the pressure of having all the men (there were no women to be seen) stare at me. A few of them looked as if they were going to come over to see if I was lost. So I made a very quick note of what I wanted to use and I bolted. Because, in truth, I was lost. I knew what kind of wood I wanted, but there is no way I could have named a cut or even explained what I was trying to do.

What am I trying to do? I have no idea. I started off thinking I'd make some planter boxes for my garden, but now I'm starting to think 'just make a table. An outdoors table so if it's rubbish it doesn't matter'.

I think that's a rather good idea. If it goes horribly wrong, I'll tear it apart and build the planters. And pretend it never happened.

I'm looking forward to settling on a design, changing it, breathing in sawdust and the inevitable sense of contentment at the end. Wood does that to people. There are also books on woodcarving at work, but I'll take one craft project at a time. I'm planning the novel, thesis and a trip to Vietnam (hooray! I'm going to travel again!), so I think I might need to watch what I take on.