Tell me mystory, herstory, history…

In the name of Allah the most gracious, the most merciful. The Creator and Lord of the worlds and all things inbetween.

Our tribe minus one

31 October 2014.

At best our lives are a tapestry of many moments woven together as our story. Some moments that were really joyous and fulfilling- milestones in our memory banks; the moments of loss and anguish and pain and embarrassment which time has allowed to fade. Some say the pain of birth starts to fade as soon as we hold that baby in our arms. Some of us conjure up the pain to remind ourselves of that day. Don’t even talk about toothache, the moment the tooth is sorted out off we go to buy more Florentines - the toothache a fleeting reminiscence. The Arabic word for man/woman is Insan which comes from the root word forgetful, forgetting or to forget. It figures.

How cool would it be if one can start your story, (some stories start this way) I am the first born daughter of Rukayat and Osama, heck I was the first girl child in three generations of our family on both sides. According to my Dad, when I was born my Mom sat on the bed and struggled to brush out the tangles in her mop of dark curls. She stopped and stared at him in the mirror and suddenly she doubled over with the first pain of birth. There was no time for midwife or taxi to hospital – so he rolled up his sleeves and helped her lay down and that is how I came into this world…

I wanted my children to know about the day of their birth so that it would be the start of theirstory. As soon as they were old enough I would tell them the story how they were born and start off with “On the day you were born the temperature was about 39 degrees and your Grandmother was baking soetkoek in a Dover coalstove. It was so hot that we took a shower at least five times a day.” Seriously, I love to tell stories and sometimes would use a bit of writers’ license to make the story exciting and interesting.

I would also relate the stories of the Prophets and Prophet Muhamad (peace and blessings upon him) and his companions in a low storyvoice; the stories of creation in the Qur’an and on Mi’raj night I would throw open a white sheet and we would sit in a circle for the story of the Prophet Muhamad’s (peace and blessings upon him) horizontal and vertical journey to Allah. Not forgetting the good family stories and slave histories and the First peoples of the Americas and so on. The stories our parents told us made us love the Prophets of Allah and the story of the cave, I mean who has not told that story at least a thousand times? Mikaeel just wants me to skip to the spider weaving its silken web and the bird sitting pretty and warming her eggs in the nest.

One day my youngest daughter asked me to tell her the story of her birth and I decided to type it up and print it out and keep it for her when she gets married inshaAllah together with the tiny dress that she fitted in. Then I started to type out all of the stories of my children so they knew about that beautiful day that Allah SWT gave them their first breath and into my care.  

These are some paragraphs of theirstories:

“It was a cold winter’s day when you were born in May. Should I glance out of my window at GSH I would see the hills of Devils Peak and stray buck grazing. Just before you were born I heard the melodious Muathin calling to prayer for Fajr. When I held you in my arms for the first time the sky had already turned greyish blue.  I could not wait for your Dad to come visit in the evening because you were so hungry - so I made the Iqamah in your left ear and the Athaan in your right ear and when you suckled for the first time it was so sore but a pain soon forgotten because you were so precious. I could not stop looking at you in awe thanking Allah for choosing me as your Mom. You were so tiny you could fit into a shoe box and we bought baby-growers with the word fragile on the front. You had the cutest dimples and your Dad’s pretty nose. I was relieved that my nose would not be your inheritance. You had the most beautiful mop of brown curls and sometimes Mama would tie it up so tight that you looked Chinese. ”

“The day before you were born your cousin Sumaya had graced the dunyah with her presence. I know, I was there reciting to her Mom during her birth. At 12 o’clock that night my pains started as my friend who visited left. I tried to fall asleep and dozed off and then? You gave big somersault kick and a huge pain washed over me. I waited for the next one to come but it was at least half hour later. So I packed my suitcase and put ready your sister’s clothes and started to recite Surah Yaseen. I knew that it was time when I had a pain at every `Ain. So when the men came back from mosque at Fajr, your Dad rushed me to the Peninsula Maternity hospital. Exactly at 9.00 am, you were born with so much hair the nurses took you around all the wards to show everyone your feather duster head. You were adorable even as I had more babies later, you would wait for me to put them all to bed and then clamber up onto my lap. So you were compassionate even as a child.”

 “Your birth was the quickest of all and you were the tallest. Just as you wanted to come into the world I had an enormous pushing pain. I screamed to the nurses but they said they were off to afternoon tea. So I made myself comfortable on the bed and with Bismillah helped you push your way into the world. The nurses rushed back and said, “Stop” because the cord was so tight around your neck.” I cried and said softly, “I told you he was coming, but you said after tea.” And that’s why you like tea (just kidding). When they handed you to me I cried so hard that you were OK that I made you cry, so I stopped and I have never cried again since. Ha ha. I held you tightly against my breast but you just slept through it all, you were the sweetest baby your Dad and I could hope for. And you were tough as nails and fearless. When I weaned you and gave you fresh milk your tummy was upset and so I had to introduce you to soy milk, you did not like it much and I suspect you still don’t.”

“On a warm November’s Day, I was in labour for 48 hours because you decided to put out your hand and so I could not birth you naturally. Your Dad had left to go home for a short while. They drugged me with pethadine for the pain and to keep the labour pains at bay until you pulled back your hand. It made it made me giddy and I babbled nonstop. When they pushed me into the lift for a Caesarian section I asked the doctor just to check one more time and what do you know? You had pulled your hand back and I gave birth to a beautiful girl with hair as black as a raven’s wing. Only I was too high on pethadine to hold you. But the next day it was like a bundle had dropped from heaven. You were quiet and gazed at me with your dark eyes and I felt blessed. Later when your fingers got stuck in the bicycle chain, I feared it had cut through the nerves and you would lose your fingers. But I beseeched Allah for you and see those fingers were meant to stay as you play the Ukulele so well and your palms are wide open.”

You were born on the 28^th night of Ramadhan. On the day you were born, everyone was sleeping in late. They were asleep because the night before was Lailatul Qadr – the Night of Power and the mosques were filled till the early hours. On the day you were born, there was a buzz in the community. Everyone was shopping for last minute Eid clothes and new things for their homes. On the day you were born, I became impatient for the pains to start, so your Dad and I took long walks in the forest. On the day you were born, your sisters packed and repacked your new cot with your newborn clothes not being able to imagine what you would be like. On the day you were born, everyone kept checking: do you have pains yet? Exactly at noon, when the cannon booms on Signal Hill, my first pain started - heralding your journey home. When you were lifted out of the water and on to my chest, we looked at one another and smiled filled with love for you, waiting for you to take your first breath. The softest small pink bundle mewing softly - no spanking of bottom, no forcing of first cry.”

“When I was pregnant with you your father and I were on Hajj. All of the excitement and joy that I experienced in Makkah and Madinah and surrounds, you experienced -  you kicked so hard at the Qabr of our Beloved Prophet (peace and blessings upon him) as if to give your salaams too. And when we stood on Arafat when that cool wind blows you tumbled around to remind me to make duah for you too. You were born three weeks after our return home with a few false starts and then when the midwife went home my waters broke and you were ready for the world. Your Dad was still putting the water into the bath. At the exact moment of your birth I sunk into the water, the midwife ran back and with takkies on, jumped in too and your sister woke up and would not let go of your Daddy. So as a consolation prize he got to cut the cord. I fell in love with your warm brown eyes looking up at me. Every time you heard the Takbir you would cry so dearly that every woman in the mosque cried too.”

Our last two children were water birthed - I only found out much later that the people who lived in the house before us had experienced the death of their father in that very bath. So the wonder of life in that bathroom, where a man had taken his last breath and my last two children took their first, came full circle. Allah hu Akbar!

Grow food and tell good stories to your children.

Jumuah Mubarak all.

Yasmine

Ps. This piece is dedicated to Joy McPherson the midwife of Midwifes Incorporated - Women for women who passed away a few years ago and Belinda Pourtney who assisted in making our birthing experiences phenomenal and sacred as it should be. Today there is a women’s clinic called Al Nisa in Kromboom Road where women have the option and choice of natural birth and water birthing.

 

 

 

 

 

Be joyous and thankful!

In the name of Allah the most Beneficent, the most Merciful.

 

30 October 2014.

Alhamdulilaah. All praise is due to Allah for energy and creativity. I felt that I needed to post another picture of the other kitten because Leo (the white socks one) is so flippin photogenic. And so the other kitten named Wolverine also gets a space on the blog. These pictures were taken by one of the students here, shukran.

The weather has been awesome with the rain and cool weather and its been good for the garden. Its been bedrywig here at the school as it was Aadil's birthday as well Sh Saleem and what do we do for fun - we braai and eat strawberries. So all kinds of wonderfuls, salad from the garden and the boys tried their hand at making dessert - a pavlova of course. Slamat all of you for whisking and decorating it was delicious right? I think we are all so duk of strawberries when one thinks of it. But when you get out and see how lush they are on the bushes, you can't resist especially because its so sweet.

Tomorrow we intend to finish the last patches of planting at IPSA inshaAllah and then work out turns for maintenance during study break. I must say I am impressed Abubakr built about 18 small desk easels for the Art group who will take to brush and canvas tomorrow too. And I am quite happy to add that our blog group will publish their own blog soon - IPSide edge is what they are calling it, reporting on all of the goings on with the Enrichment students.

I wanted to write this short note just to say Shukran to all who check out The Schaapkraal Diaries from time to time - today the pageviews stand on 3008. I must say that I enjoy doing the blog especially when I get feedback that it inspires others to try their green thumbs too and that they have a good laugh now and then. Sometimes life is tough and we forget to be joyous and thankful.

Have an awesome day inshaAllah.

Keep on planting food!

Yasmine

Whats not for supper?

In the name of Allah, the most gracious, the most merciful.

pic Riyaad Devan

 27- 29 October 2014.

I started this blog post 2 days ago but every time I want to publish I somehow get distracted by chores, other writing, running off to buy garden supplies and the inevitable what’s for supper. A few days ago we received some fillet steak as a gift. I was tempted to let Abu do his fillet in creamy mushroom sauce but I had a hankering for crumbed fillet with sweet saffron rice, wedges of potatoes and a garden salad. It was delicious.



pic Riyaad Devan

On Monday, I like to cook fish Mondays, I took out some kabeljou and methought a good curry would be marvelous – a garlicky tomato base with lots of danya, a few fresh curry leaves and of course the wet seafood masalah from Shaikhs. I would throw in some fluffy basmati and a few side dishes, garden salad, light spinach curry to play second fiddle, hmm wonder how a few fava beans will sass it up? I peeped down the columns of beans and spied a few plump ones and as I did my rounds and saw the sweet pea flowers entwined around every plant within their proximity – an abundance of hues of lilac, mauve, magenta and aubergine. It took my breath away. I opened some pods and noticed that they are so well protected, the insides of the pods are literally like cotton wool.

The first fully developed onions were ready to be removed; we had been pulling them up and slicing into salads since they were babies. I noticed close to the bottom, the outer layers have dried nicely some brown and some red. I also notice that the delphiniums and Peruvian lilies are about to bloom as well as one or two foxgloves.

That was yesterday and I never did get to cook supper. Whilst I was picking the fava beans a wasp may have stung me or I might have touched my mouth after picking the beans but my lip just started to have a strange sensation and then it ballooned. I can laugh about it now but it was not funny then hey. It looked like a Botox shot gone wrong, this huge engorged upper lip that was tingly. So I took some antihistamine but it persisted and while I was worried, my kids took over cooking not wanting to look at me for fear of bursting out in guffaw. It was funny and sorry no pics!

Alhamdulilah it was all good this morning. What was not to be good? The weather was superb. A brisk shower; stroll around; a berry smoothie and off to get some compost and a few plugs on my way to IPSA to check on the gourmet beds. I got some red cabbages and beet plants and some chilli bushes. Mikaeel jumped into the van with us. “First tell your Mom!” said Grand daddy. “No lets go, close the windows!" said he. And off we went.

When I got to IPSA, girl was I impressed! The soil was moist, meaning that the watering and maintenance teams were on the job. The plants that we put in the last two weeks were standing strong, the cloched tomato plants had survived with only two casualties, yay. Well done gourmet gardeners! We have three smaller beds to fill with compost and plant in before the students go on study leave before exams. But we will get small groups to check up and water inshaAllah. Note to self – must take some marigolds and calendula to invite the pollinators to visit the gourmet garden.

Zulpha planting red peppers

Suhail patting down lavender

Riyaan and Faheem

Gwannie's boy

On our way stopped for some Neopolitan ice cream and cones for the boy. Ha ha, he sat and hugged that box all the way home.  Got home and I sommer had some energy to keep going so did a few rounds, picking and eating strawbs on the way.

Abu and I are druk besig transplanting herbs – thymes, rosemary, oregano so that they have a bit more space to grow bigger, staking the hanepoort while my daughter is busy transplanting the last of the irises and the smaller grow bags that the strawberries live in to bigger bags and pots. The small grow bags makes it hard for plants to absorb the water as their roots grow and fill the bag quickly.  And finally the rambling rose cuttings are ready to be planted close to spaces that will allow them to ramble up and over can’t wait for the little red rosettes , shukran Waseemah’s Mommy! Abu is also busy making small easels that sit on a table for the Art group.

Then I noticed three plants that somehow escaped my attention and had developed into fully fledged bushes like an arrangement of jagged swords. I thought it was the comfrey and this is me, “Wow Abu the comfrey is lush and huge, look at this?” And Abu says, “nope that is the comfrey in bed with the brinjals.” “So what’s this?” “Algerian artichoke!” And I am thrilled no end. I thought the seeds had vergaan and so I planted some in seedling trays and they are making steady progress among the Chaste trees. Thank you Allah.

Grow food and watch out for wasps.

Yasmine

Pavlova and poppy seeds

In the name of Allah, the most beneficent, the Most merciful.

27 October 2014.

Slamat Alameen

 Alhamdulilaah, I woke up to the Sunday pre –dawn, no sound, clear as a bell and then the chirping. Yay, no wind  that meant out in the garden watering early and then the rest of the day unfolded. Still needed to complete the rest of the 29^th Juz for birthday khatam of my brother in law so we shared it. Two sixtieth birthdays in one week (my brother Farid and my Bro in law Alameen), eh ons raak almal ouer – and I hope wiser. As a bonus I got a pic of the entry of the Dry Dock from my brother who got it from a friend!!!!

I finished off what’s for lunch decisions, delegate some chores and start an éclair ring and a pavlova. Early in 2000, a friend brought me the most perfect pavlova for Eid – crisp and sugary on the outside and marshmallow on the inside. Layers of crème fraiche and cream nestling red and green sweet grapes, a squish of granadilla and icing sugar like light snow covering everything. A pavlova is delectable when one gets the sweet -sour combination right and play around with different kinds of fruits and toppings and its quick to make. The trick with the baking is timing, allowing it to blossom and swell in a hot oven, bringing down the heat and allowing it to crack and dry out so it’s easy to work with and not mushy. Be prepared to slap hands that are tempted to pinch a crumbled piece.

Just before lunch we had some visitors for strawberry picking and because it was a perfect warm day the strawberries had ripened to feed many mouths as well as strawberries for the desserts. Handfuls of blueberries were added as well. When we arrived at my brother in law’s house his sister, Salaama, had made a 60^th birthday numbers with pavlova looped and then decorated beautifully! Just plain innovative.

So the day was spent with cousins and their children visiting and later the evening some more visitors. I love it when we get visitors and so advice is exchanged; inspiration received to continue what we do and the children have a ball of time and are learning about Allah’s bounties Alhamdulilah! Some valuable advice for our pomegranate to be shielded from the wind so the blossoms don’t blow away. And offerings from our friend Sayed Muhamad of brinjal plants for our gardens at IPSA.

The cats are growing so ma shaAllah, they run around now and up the steps and into the garden and are perfectly potty trained. They have made their new home down low in the kitchen cupboard close to the baking trays and between the pots. I think they too are trying to escape the mosquitoes that miraculously appeared as the wind left.

I am happy that more and more people young and old are starting their gardens. It’s certainly a way to spend some quality family time and passing on valuable knowledge. The poppyheads are drying out and at the top it’s like a shutter has opened for the tiny seeds to be shaken out and dispersed by the wind. But we try our best to catch them so we can share with others. The white poppies that I waited for patiently,  has one plant that germinated in the densely packed bed and small white heads appear with petals unfurled.

Here’s my recipe for blissful berry pavlova perfect dessert for a summer’s day

Ingredients:

 ·         6 large egg whites at room temperature

·         1 tsp brown vinegar

·         Pinch of bicarb

·         1 ¼  cup of castor sugar

·         1 tub of fresh cream

·         1 tub of crème fraiche

·         Icing sugar for sifting

·         Fresh berries or fruits of the season

Preparation

Whisk egg whites until stiff peaks

Add vinegar and bicarb while continuing to whisk.

Gradually add castor sugar.

Scoop out mixture and swirl into a round.

Gently stir centre to create slight indent.

Pull up a butter knife from the bottom outer side to the centre to create a turban effect.

Bake at 200 degrees for 20 min or until it is golden brown.

Lower heat to 150 and bake for another half an hour or when cracks appear

Switch off oven and allow it to dry out. Little drops of light brown syrup will accumulate.

When cooled gently slide onto pretty plate.

Mix half of the fresh cream into the crème fraiche for the first layer.

Sprinkle some berries.

Top with cream and continue sprinkling with berries and squirt granadilla over berries.

Sieve icing sugar on top and serve.

 Grow food and catch your seeds.

Yasmine

 

 

pics later

The wind by any other name is still the wind.

In the name of Allah, the Most gracious, the Most merciful.

pic from Sowetanlive.co.za

25 October 2014.

This is the wind that blew in by the backdoor and knocked off my picture that stood behind my cake dome that sent it crashing to smithereens that made me cry - it was a gift from my son. These are the winds that churn up the pollen and make us sneeze and our eyes itch. It is this wind that blew off my favourite crepe scarf and pulled in and draped it over the pomegranate tree all ripped. But I respect the wind because it leaves the air fresh and crisp and the skyline bright.

Usually the October winds come up in the late afternoon and it has blown itself out by early evening. In the morning, we would pick up the plants that fell along the wayside and drench it with water to cajole it to revive. For three days now the wind continues to howl, it picks up the pollen and deposits it in the nets of the curtains; it whirls it around up into our nostrils and eyes and then blows  away again.

In Cape Town these winds are called the south Easter or the Cape Doctor. Living on the slopes of the Dry Dock I knew it would be a windy day just listening to the whoosh of the wind through the trees, an almost eerie sound but the sound that I missed when we were forcibly removed. As a skinny kid, I anticipated putting bricks into my pockets to have more control as the wind would toss me all around when I walked home from school. I would literally walk grabbing the fencing along the way, don’t even talk about the footbridge to the Rahmania School over the Eastern Boulevard (now Nelson Mandela BLVD) where we attended madrassah. In the city it was much worse as one turned the corner, skirts blowing up in faces, fezzes and hats held on tightly, ja the wind. The hardest part is walking against the wind, like one step forward and two steps back.

The open fields of the Cape Flats were a battle on its own. The wind would blow the sand so hard it would sting one’s legs on the way to and from school, one’s ears would ache – and that is why women wear doekies, just kidding. The winds on the Cape Flats erode the soil and leave tracks of land barren.

feverfew

As much as it makes us red in the face it blows away sicknesses and pollution. It lets fishermen know when there is a snoek run. As for the garden, it gives me great delight when odd plants pop up in the soil, courtesy of the wind’s dispersal, like the feverfew and lettuce in the poppy beds.  Were it not for the wind the neighbours wild dagga would not grow on our side of the wall. Ok, Ok also with a bit of nudging from my side too.

The washing on the line is the worse for me as the sheets blow over and over and winds itself so tightly around, I battle to take it off. The wet washing slaps me in the face so often and sometimes the wind is able to snap off the pegs. But I have grown wiser so buy the deluxe Tuffy pegs because it puts up a better fight in keeping the washing in place. It is a bit expensive, but well worth investing in and in such pretty colours too. At the moment it is only sold (as far as I know) at Osmans in Lansdowne. But I am grateful that the wind does dry out the washing quicker and fluff it up a bit.

poppy heads

Gauteng does not experience so much wind you know but the moment there is a hectic storm the trees are sommer uprooted. Cape trees stand with roots firmly in the ground. Ja, the wind. InshaAllah I hope that the wind will die down by tomorrow so we can leave the doors open and work in the garden. We need to weed and replant basil from the trays and today we filled grow bags with soil to prepare for transplants

wigwams

 

I am so impressed with the fruit trees standing their ground and the small fruits hanging on tight, but alas the poppies are no weight for this wind, the blossoms dance away and leave their heads bald. So I plant lots of plants that are hardy and cope well with wind such as indigenous daisies, veggies, sour figs, lavender, bulbinella and wild garlic. 

We fasten the tomatoes, brinjals, chillis and beans to stakes and wigwam the peas. We make hedges of rosemary and flax and make wind breaks with netting, around small trees as well. The delicate plants I position in corners on the stoep and behind walls or low in baths. We pack the young trees tight together like soldiers in tortoise manouvre with shields.

The strawberries are hardy and low down on the ground so are not affected much but should be mulched because the wind strips the surrounding soils and leave them dry. So when you plan your garden, be cognizant of the weather. Know that the wind comes from the south and the rain comes from the north in Cape Town.

 Later

Plant food and be weather-wise.

 Yasmine

broad beans staked

 

 



flax borders

 

A short note on broad beans

In the name of Allah most gracious, most merciful.

 

Also 22 October 2014.

So I am walking through the veggie garden with a view to what's for supper. And I notice that the broad beans bushes are thick with beans. The beans in my garden are actually Vicia Faba, Family: Fabaceae. So its called broad bean, fava bean, double bean and also ful beans as in the Sudan and Egypt.

I am thinking some beautiful curry with many vegetables. Lentils, pumpkin, cauliflower, butternut, baby potatoes and yep some broad beans. That's sounds about right yes. (posted the recipe a bit back with roti the hot water kind). I check if there is enough butter for roti, I will not make the warm water kind but the normal - what we call Kaapse roti.

Just 4 cups of cakeflour, salt and about 2 cups or less of cold water kneaded to a soft bubbly dough; made into small balls; rolled out and stretched into wide disks; buttered generously; rolled up into a flute and into a coil like a snake charmer. Then chilled and rolled out and fried later when the curry is done.

Methinks I will stick to the curry and roti but it is worthwhile noting that it should not be eaten raw though and can be fatal to people with the rare hereditary condition known as G6PD, for whom ingestion can cause 'favism', a type of anaemia. But they are excellent sources of fibre, vitamins A and C, potassium and iron and protein. Apparently they contain L-dopa  a chemical the body uses to produce dopamine, an important neurotransmitter involved in learning, mood control and motivation, yay bring on the beans!

I check on google what else can be made with broad bean and fall in love with the bbcgoodfood.com with pictures and recipes which I will try this week inshaAllah.see end of blog.

plant food and grow fava beans or double beans or broad beans
(However want to name it.)

Yasmine
ps. I have some plants of many varieties for sale, email or inbox me please.

 

http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/3098/spinach-broad-bean-and-feta-salad









http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/howto/guide/what-do-broad-beans

All kinds of wonderful cucurbits

In the name of Allah the most gracious, the most Merciful.

squash plants

22 October 2014.

There is a particular quietness in the air, only interrupted by the swish of tyre on asphalt. The miniscule mist dewdrops descend on the soil and on the leaves and petals. I look closely at the sky and wonder whether this is a prelude to a scorching day, even the birds are contemplative– not a chirp from them.

In the background someone is pounding a heavy hammer. So I put on my gumboots walk briskly around the property a couple of times and pick some strawberries for a smoothie. Then I do my rounds.  I wish I could spend all of my time from dusk to dawn in the garden – planting seeds and seedlings, repotting and replanting. But alas, it’s a luxury right now other work to be done too. So I make up my bed and rearrange my desk that I might look out on the garden.

Every day brings new developments to the property. The blueberries are bluing faster, gooseberry kadoesies are brown and dry so I know they are ripe, the pomegranate trees have teeny buds on the ends of its branches. The sweet peas are finally blooming in a cacophony of different colours. The chaste trees have sprung into action and the trees are becoming full leaved. All the lavender plants are poised in the garden with open their arm like fans and the smell is heady especially when we water them. New cosmos seedlings emerge and the delphiniums will be blooming soon, I am as anxious as a Mom with a new born. We planted all kinds of flower seeds, from snap dragons to petunias. But I still buy some punnets here and there to create some colour quicker.

wild dagga on our side

The broad beans get broader and longer and the fennel is growing thicker. The asparagus seems to be marking time to strengthen its roots. The cabbage patch is dismal. Cabbage fly has distressed the entire patch save for the broccoli and red cabbage. The rest I remove today to destroy, dig in loads of compost and plant something tough maybe some onions or peas, let’s see. I always dig in compost to enrich the soil and strengthen plants to fight disease. I thought I spied a sunbird, seeing that the neighbours took out their wild dagga and some seed fell on our side of the wall.

The kittens are growing faster and already spend lazy days in the sun, clambering up and over things, digging their nails in the netting and tentatively climbing. Cats, hey, do they know how to squirm in the attention. The students and teachers are gaga over them and Mikaeel is petting them and a bit less threatened at losing the number one spot.

I am elated at the progress at the back of the house. The neighbours rows and rows of potatoes are thick and bushy and strong and purple flowers have emerged. On our side of the wall the cucurbits are growing strong, I am happy to add, check out the pics at the end of the blog

While I check the garden and tidy and water, my son in law comes to help. We take turns with watering ( more him than me ha ha)  and although dragging the pipe around is good exercise, I am thankful when he comes round and effortlessly yanks it to my side of the garden. The back yard is filled with stacks of planks and stacks of planting pots being filled. In fact stacks of wood are all over.  I love the smell of wood and my son and I quiz each other is it mahogany or oregan pine or yellowwood or birch or beech or maple or oak. Hmmm I love the smell of wood. I don’t mind the wood all over, as long as it tranforms itself into a farm table, a few ottomans, bookracks, mirror frames.

 

The next few days I will spend cleaning up all the little stacks of weeds, the grass desperately needs a cutting under the clothing lines and that grows wildly around. When the grass is cut we all head for cover because die hayfever is los! I look at all of my tasks ahead for today but first I have a brother who has turned 60 today, Happy Wholesome birthday brother as we grow older we realise the milestones, may Allah bless you with great health, Salaamah, Sa'adah and Sakeena. Thinking about gifts that are interesting ne. A trip to interesting and sacred places? Most definitely.

Grow food and visit sacred places.

Yasmine

giant pumpkin seedling

 

butternut plant

 

watermelon plants

 

more butternut

 

Broad beans, blue berries and Fennel bulbs

In the name of Allah The most gracious The Most Merciful.

 

Fennel and beets

Who splits the earth with sprouts and causes within it to grow grain and grapes and herbage, and olives and palm trees, and gardens of dense shrubbery, and fruit and grass as enjoyment for us and our grazing livestock.
 

Today is the sacred day of Jumuah when Allah (SWT) bestows barakah on the Haramein, the masajid and the dunyah, the plains and the fields, Subhanallah. Today I feel blessed that the organic gardens are doing so well, the extended parts that we started about a month ago are lush and its yields are high. We are eating lettuce, the clean seed from Mexico, I think and the many different varieties – frilly, cos, red and green and a variegated variety, the one sweeter than the other.

braod beans

The fennel are growing up too and I can’t wait for the bulbs to be big enough to slice in the middle and oven roast with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. The broad beans are growing bigger and bigger and the beetroot has just formed small beets. The tomatoes are big enough for us to leave the flowers on now, we nipped them off as the bushes were still small. The basil is in the ground and I can proudly say that the peppers (yellow, green and red) are increasing in size. The basil I planted from seed but I bought some peppers plugs as I wanted them to grow quickly.

blue berries

Some of the Russian kale and red mustard are not doing so well and the cabbage leaves look like there are holes punched in them with small flies around them. At the backwall I strew a medley of cucurbit seeds and five different kinds of plants have emerged – makataan melon, red melon, giant pumpkin, squash and butternut. How cool is that?  The growth of the tomatoes are phenomenal and the wild dagga is flowering so we hope to see some sunbirds soon inshaAllah. Hope they avoid the blueberries though.

Today we started the Gourmet Garden Project at the Islamic Peace College and it went off so well. We started off with locating the project in a broader environmental frame and discussed the role that the Ambiyaa played and read snippets out of the Islamic Farming Toolkit. Of course the Organic Bible of Bob Flowerdew was right there with us too when we discussed What's organic and what's not. 

Students were actually quite eager to get their hands dirty. It took a lot of composting to be dug into the barren soil and watered until it was ready for some planting. Though I like planting out seedlings in the late afternoon, we planted hoping that the shady areas we chose would be good.  All the seedlings and herb container soil were full of earthworms which have a new home now. We discussed how we could catch wudhu water for the gardens and it will take some interesting plumbing of course to make it work. This is a personal dream Abubakr and I have to start a project leading wudhu water at mosques into the garden. Anyway so we decided for now maybe to use some buckets. Let’s see who is going to remember.

The students started with one patch planting onion, peppers, lettuce, cucumber and basil. We also planted some English lavender and mints but we have to decide where we want a complete space for herbs. Well done everyone!

As for the kittens – they are so beautiful and lovable. They run around now and are playful,  scampering around and mock fighting with one another. No more accidents, they know where the litter box is and when its warm and sunny they are taken outside. They have been introduced to the garden and taken to smell the catnip and a section where they can do their business, But like babies, when they start mewing – dan hardloop almal!

This weekend we are busy transplanting plants that have over grown their pots. I started after Asr with all of the fuchsia plants and separating the iris tubers while the rest of the gang trimmed and repotted fiddlewood, honey suckle and cedars. When we line them up an water them looks like a nursery already.

Later

Grow food and plant all kinds of peppers

Yasmine

kittens walking on Mount Mikaeel

flaxseed pods