The passing parade ...

In December of 1971 aged 10, I was given transistor radio for a Christmas present (we had no TV). I really loved that radio. I would lock myself in my room all of Saturday afternoon to listen to cricket commentary or sit spellbound on a Friday night listening to the police drama “Squad Cars” (whose opening lines I can still recite verbatim) or wait in anticipation for Monday night and the general knowledge quiz show “21”. 

 One of my all-time favourites, however, was the mellifluous voice of John Doremus who presented the “Passing Parade”, a series of very short stories (about 4 minutes long)  of remarkable but relatively unknown historical episodes. He would always  begin with “This is John Doremus with the Passing Parade and the story of …”  and conclude with  “Our time is up and until we meet again for another chapter of the Passing Parade, this is John Doremus thank you so much and goodbye for now.”

 

I feel that our sojourn on Cracroft Farm in the second half of 2020 was a little like the Passing Parade – brilliant but far too short. Our time was up just as we felt we were getting started! Settling back into life in Brisbane has proved to be difficult. The rhythm of the days are so very different. In the sub-tropics all summer-time activity is best completed by 9am (and preferably sooner) before the heat of the day makes physical work the province of the very hardy. In the Huon, a leisurely morning spent gearing up for a big day of work was the norm and, unlike the sub-tropics, the sun shines late into the evening. Pepper particularly has found the heat difficult to deal with and has shed her coat all over the place. We have tried (and succeeded) to walk her twice a day, a task which has made my “steps” counter on the iPhone look very much like an impressive Manhattan skyline. But even these walks can’t really compensate for the lost freedom of the farm and our constant company.

 

This weekend I am back in the Huon with our youngest son Tim. Cath has had to stay behind in Brisbane for work (although primarily she has to walk Pepper!). It is weird being down here without Cath, but the full moon came out on our first night down here to illuminate the valley and lift the spirits.

 

 

A full moon over the Huon Valley

 

I am happy to report that most of the trees we planted are in good shape and have survived the month since we left. The golden elm tree in particular is looking absolutely fantastic.

The golden elm

Unfortunately the one major loss may be one of Cath’s birthday Japanese cherry blossom trees which is looking particularly sad right now. There have been other minor casualties of war, as the wallabies have run rampant in Pepper’s absence, but on the whole the place has stood up remarkably well. 

 

Perhaps one of the best features of the visit so far is that I have been the beneficiary of our first real tomato harvest.  Quite simply these tomatoes (grown without a poly tunnel in our rehabilitated relic of a bath tub) are simply outstanding. 

Our first tomato harvest

They are amazingly sweet and quite unlike the watery offerings often found in major supermarkets. Completely unprompted, Tim declared that they were best tomatoes he had ever tasted. I can’t wait for the “Black Russians” to ripen! The only problem is that at the rate at which we eat tomatoes we probably need about a hectare under cultivation …