Growing up on the farm I spent many childhood days picking mallee roots. We'd head to a paddock that was going to be cropped and hurl the dry, gnarly roots into small piles. Then Mum or Dad, or later my siblings or I would drive the 'ute', a thundering F100, around the paddock. We kids would be standing on the sideboards or sitting on the tailgate as we made our way from pile to pile. When we got to each pile, we'd all jump off and throw those mallee roots onto the back of the ute before jumping back on the running boards and heading to the next pile.
The mallee roots of course would be unloaded into our wood pile and used through winter to light the fires to keep us warm, light the kitchen stove and heat our water.
I don't have a big open wood fire in the city, and I certainly don't have a wood stove or water heater, but I still have a use for those mallee roots.
My wonderful Mum and Dad were coming up from the farm last week, so I asked if they would mind bringing me a couple of old, weathered mallee roots for my native verge garden. See how good they look:
They already look right at home among the kangaroo paws! The good thing about using the rocks and roots in this garden is that it gives it some structure, so even when it's not all flowering, it looks like a vaguely naturalised scrub.
It also gives the little lizards somewhere to play and hide. I look forward to watching all my tiny plants grow up amongst them.
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