Welcome to Bankstown International Peace Garden

This week at Bankstown has been overwhelming.  We have had so many neighbours and passers-by stop to praise, comment, offer advice, ask for advice, give us recipes and tell us their stories. We all left the farm today high on humanity.  Being out in the community in the garden in this way it’s easy to push aside the crappy goings on overseas and the politics of fear and hate. As one lady said today “you call your neighbour sister and brother so when you need something, you can knock on their door”. Good to see Trump evil hasn’t infiltrated our favourite multicultural city.  We came away today thinking that the “Bankstown Farm” has it’s own healing powers and a grander purpose than four walls on a suburban block.  We thought a rename to Bankstown International Peace Garden was more fitting.

Welcome to our newest volunteer, Carolyn Phillips…yaaaay!!! I think I can safely say she’s had a great two days at Bankstown and Glenfield, getting her hands dirty!

Today started off with one of the neighbours across the road asking us about growing and soil.  Her English was not great and I wrote down some products for her and gave her an eggplant and a Vietnamese mint runner.  She was so happy.  Next door to her is Dragana (that’s not her name) but my untuned Macedonian ear cannot pick up her name. She came over to tell me again that the watermelon wasn’t ripe and something else I wasn’t picking up.  She said “what did you give to my friend” and I told her and she went away empty handed.  Later I thought that perhaps she was upset that the neighbour got something and she didn’t, so I left an eggplant seedling on her verandah and she reciprocated with coke.  Next came Sylvia.  I haven’t met her before and she started the conversation in the usual way “I love the garden”. She told me how she lost her eggplant in the heat and asked me about the sweet potato growing in the front.  Sylvia is a cook and I really didn’t want her to leave…I hope I see her again so I can write down the eggplant recipe.  She also had an interesting bean one that had about 3 ingredients…damn you, failing short term memory! We are getting so close to tapping in to this multicultural local food network and it’s really exciting!  Anyway, Sylvia told me that “when I die, no god, no church, put me in my garden”.   Syliva was so excited with her sweet potato runner and her new eggplant to replace the scorched one that she gave me a kiss and a hug…awwwwwwwww!  Petra on the corner has a garden full of banana chillies and was watching all the goings on and so I dropped her over an eggplant as well. I was being SW Sydney Oprah today…”You get an eggplant…you get an eggplant…you get an eggplant”!

Just a quick thank you to Fiona and her family for allowing us to share their space. You’ll never know the extent of how much your faith and trust in us has meant in terms of adding joy to our lives and all your neighbours.  You’ll have to start taking Friday’s off again 😉

Not even 12 months ago….

The front yard at Bankstown looked like this.


Then this….



Now it looks like this…

I guess I can understand why the neighbours are so interested in the progression of this yard.  It really isn’t that normal to take a front yard and fill it with edibles. Now the farm house, has it’s farm.


Some coriander that volunteer Skye thought would never come up…


The bit that I get really excited about is dirt!  I love seeing the transformation when you do a few small things.  This in turn, not only creates great food but a whole suburban ecosystem of bugs and bees that didn’t exist in this space.


Cheat Day: Tumors, Azaleas and Green Tomato Pickles

Today’s #30days30mealschallenge is a major cheat.  As you can see I have a cancer-load serving of bacon and eggs (because our egg suppliers are still away) green tomato pickles, parsley and sundried tomatoes…out of a about a kilo of tomatoes there are a handful left!

Last night, not interested in the cricket, I decided to phone an old friend (she won’t mind me calling her old) she turned 80 last year.   Her daughter answered and I could tell by her voice something more than the annual visit to her mother was going on.

She said she wanted to meet me as her mother had always spoken well of me. Then she dropped the bomb that her beautiful mother and my old friend has a brain tumour and only has a few months. I guess I knew something was up because I didn’t receive a hand-painted christmas card, out of the blue on New Years Eve I wanted a brandy and dry (her favourite drink) and received no phone call to wish us the best for the new year.

The page is getting blurry. When I reluctantly came back to Sydney in 2005, a sole parent of 3, I started gardening and mowing for friends while I was at uni, trying to create a future for my kids.  My friends and family rallied around me at this time and a friend of a friend gave this lady my phone number and from that day on, I was someone that was charged with the caretaking of her garden.  I was to do some pruning and weeding because apparently mower men don’t weed and due to her severe arthritis she could no longer get down and her gnarled fingers couldn’t grip the secateurs. Our relationship was more than boss and employee, she became like a grandma. Her garden allowed my kids to have dance lessons. As we got to know each other better, we made lots of rude jokes while out in the garden, she’d laugh at my bum crack always hanging out of my shorts, always ask about the kids and gave me some of her paintings.  She loved my stories about political rant letters in the paper and guerilla gardening. I could see that she thought I was of villainous character but she liked me all the same.  I didn’t know then, she was the start of the therapeutic horticulture journey that I am now on.  Back then, it didn’t have a name.  She is very active and to watch someone being weighed down with increasing health burdens isn’t nice to watch – it reminds us of our own mortality and the things we will lose as our life goes on.

She lives in a beautiful spot on the river with river views depending on the growth rate of the Moreton Bay Fig.  The trees are as old as time and the azaleas are at least a hundred years old and taller than me (just over 5ft). They form a hedge. A hedge that has one beautiful flush of flowers a year depending on how much rain we get. Through the years, her garden became part of me.  She loves a lot of plants that I had no affinity with because you can’t eat them but to her they were memories of travels, friends and family.  She taught me about these plants. She was an art teacher at a boys school in a rough area, had a husband with severe health problems and ended up caring for her elderly parents till their deaths and raised a daughter on her own.  She loves to sit on the balcony and look at her garden and it brings her peace through what was a pretty rough journey.  Like most people with a balcony in the trees she puts out a plate for the rainbow lorikeets.  She would call out to me regularly when I was on my belly weeding the azaleas to make sure I hadn’t disappeared entirely.

I’ll never forget the look on her face when I went north for a couple of years and she had to replace me. It was then that I realised that to some people, family isn’t just blood relatives. When the universe propelled me back to Sydney again, heartbroken by life I would do a few jobs for her like getting down her winter blankets, taking her shopping for plants or just having a coffee. I was determined to leave the gardening “career” behind but realising now, it’s one of the only things that I enjoy and gardeners are usually awesome, passionate people.

Last year I took her a jar of green tomato pickles which she loved.  She admitted to sitting and eating it by the spoonful in front of the tele. I gave her some more and she sold them at church.  I started writing to her last night to let her know what a big part of my life she’s been and how lucky we’ve been to spend so much time in a beautiful garden. Eyes are leaking again but so glad she won’t need the stair chair to get up to the balcony from the ground floor to look at her river and azaleas and she will get to go in her piece of paradise that she has nurtured and loved for 80 years.

I hope I can take her some green tomato pickles and we can sit on the verandah and watch the river with a brandy and dry before she goes.


30 Days/30 Meals – struggle town



I won’t lie, today’s meal was hard.  All this thinking about what I eat, is quite a challenge!

My body (actually, that’s not true) my mind is craving more than salad and fermented veg. The only heavy type vegie that we have, that we grew was the butternut pumpkin.  It is officially one year old this pumpkin and the last of our pumpkins for summer 2015/2016.  I think that’s really awesome that we have survived a year buying no pumpkins…even through pumpkin soup season!

Ingredients: kale, roasted pumpkin, fermented cucumber, non fermented cucumber (will explain later) heirloom white carrot, cherry tomatoes and fermented pesto (kefir added).

I popped the lid off the fermented cucumbers and they were, as suspected a bit soggy, so that’s why I cut up a normal cucumber. I was a bit disappointed but by the end of the meal, it didn’t bother me…the salt and garlic cushioned the blow!

What did bother me, was another meal with kale! I have found out that the best way to eat it (for me) is lightly simmered.  It’s quite nice – it’s just the mental hurdle of having it 3 days in a row.  I’m eating the oldest veg first, of course and so I still have a few more meals with kale yet 😉

I wasn’t real happy with the pesto last night but the fermentation overnight has helped the flavours and now I quite like it. If you’d like to try some, let me know your favourite flavours ie chilli, garlic, nuts, cheese etc and I will make you up some or you can try some of the batches I made last night. Heating the pesto kills the probiotics in the pesto so it needs to be put straight on top your spaghetti or bikkie, whatever you prefer.

The kefir now has separated into curds and whey and so I will turn it into a cheese later tonight by pouring the contents into a muslin cloth and letting it sit over a strainer and squeezing every now and then.  Meanwhile after I’ve done some farm tidying up I will later consult some of the fermenting recipe books for some more ideas.

Please feel free to send me some recipes or ideas or place a photo on instagram #struggletown…












Stuck for what to plant…

Planting now in January for the Australia – temperate zone
(also Love-lies-bleeding)
Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
Asparagus Pea
(also Winged bean)
Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
Beans – climbing
(also Pole beans, Runner beans, Scarlet Runners)
Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
Beans – dwarf
(also French beans, Bush beans)
Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
(also Beets)
Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
(also Gobo (Japanese Burdock))
Plant in garden. Harvest from June.
Carrot Plant in garden. Harvest from May.
(also Garden chives)
Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
Cucumber Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
(also Aubergine)
Plant out (transplant) seedlings. Harvest from April.
Kohlrabi Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
Lettuce Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
Marrow Plant in garden. Harvest from May.
Mustard greens
(also gai choy)
Plant in garden. Harvest from March.
(also Ladyfinger, gumbo)
Plant out (transplant) seedlings. Harvest from April.
(also Pot Marjoram)
Plant in garden. Harvest from March.
(also curly leaf parsley or flat leaf (Italian) parsley)
Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
Radish Plant in garden. Harvest from March.
(also Queensland Jam Plant, Roselle)
Plant in garden. Harvest from July.
(also Swedes)
Plant in garden. Harvest from May.
(also Vegetable oyster)
Plant in garden. Harvest from May.
(also Swiss Chard or Mangold)
Plant in garden. Harvest from April.
Sunflower Plant in garden. Harvest from April.

30 Days 30 Meals

Hi Free Rangers,

I’m watching Rage as I write this.  Both Willy and I are shedding tears over the big music losses that trigger memories of our misspent youth. He has just wiped the dust off the non-opened Bowie album and vowed never to open it. 2016 seemed to be the death of not only many much-loved people, but a time where life was simpler, the music more meaningful and creative and fame was earned through talent and hard work, not sledging and self-promoting nastiness.  If you’re waiting for this blog to tie in with vegies, wait for it…I’ll get there.

These big losses made me reflect particularly this year how happy I was to still have my family all alive and in good health on Christmas day.  I know y’all are feeling that way too, if you escaped 2016 unscathed. We have lunch every year at Mum’s with our own food and traditions, like every family. Nothing unique.  This year though, I felt our Christmas day had shifted back to a day about being able to eat “once a year”, great food. I didn’t’ feel that angst and annoyance about the present opening – twas no longer a huge wasteful, affair!  It used to be, and in years past, I felt pressure to give my kids all this crap they didn’t need or want (which as a single mother at the time, was extremely stressful). I remember one year giving my son a remote control helicopter (one of the dodgy ones that were for sale in a little pop up shop in the centre of Bankstown Square right before Christmas) we used it once, it flew about 20 m straight up in the air and crashed into the pool.  My brother felt bad and bought him a new one and the second one did the same thing, went straight up in the air into the powerlines and crashed.  I think that toy was around $30. It was probably constructed using cheap plastic materials by someone overseas for slave wages. Let’s say it cost $5 AUD to make. We used say 4 AA batteries that let’s say conservatively cost $1 each, that’s $4.00.  Then $30 x 2 on the helicopters. So it cost $5 to make and we spent around $64…for it all to end up in landfill, not to break down for hundreds of years. Who wins out of this excess and waste? Not our children’s children.  That generation will for sure be charged with figuring out how to clean up a total of ten minutes worth of “fun”.  All Max remembers is the memory of how it went in the pool – which was pretty funny!

So this blog is really about waste and trying to live more simply, starting with food. 30 meals, 30 days!  This is not a new year’s resolution, a weight loss challenge, a vego conversion or a test of my will power. It is an experiment.  I’m going to make 30 meals for 30 days from food grown at Panania, Bankstown and Glenfield farms. This will be interesting because I’m going to be forced to be creative with the food (and I’m not much of a cook).  Some of what I cook and will make myself eat, will be horrible, I’m sure.  I’m already dreading the silverbeet (fordhook giant) meal.  I realise now, that I was lucky to be raised with the values of “eat it because there are kids out there that have nothing to eat”. So we had to sit until our plate was empty and I soon discovered that warm silverbeet, mixed in with mashed potato was slightly more appetising than cold, soggy silverbeet. Good times!  My brother recently re-enacted the same scenario with his 7 year old son and made him sit and eat fish that went cold because it was caught and delivered to them by a family friend.  The fish had value attached to it for my brother because it was caught and given by a friend, rather than being sold to him.  This gorgeous kid refused with all his will to eat the fish. I’m sure there will be many objections to this kind of enforcement of food values, however, I know one thing for sure, that our family can and will survive any kind of food shortage, should it ever occur. I said to this kid, which I truly believe, that you might like it later as an adult. I never liked fish until I tried Broadbill and then later salmon and smoked salmon (which is now off my menu for ethical reasons). By giving up and allowing kids to refuse certain foods and by not persisting with these foods for health and cultural reasons, surely we are limiting a generation of kids to packaged, mass produced food which is crap, preserved, GMO’d, grown hydroponically in a greenhouse and is not only bad for your health but has no connection to family traditions/values.

30 Days, 30 meals purpose is centred around the theme of food waste.  As a grower, I’m still composting more food than I should be.  Sustainable food systems can and must be local. Composted food and green waste makes the bulk of my soil. Only meat leaves the property as food waste. I hardly ever use my green bin. There is emerging research on the viability of a city growing its own food and if you think this sounds ludicrous, just give it a quick google.  You should also check out Urban Food Street, in Buderim Queensland (which is several streets of front yard farms). Of course you can see that a city growing its own food is EXTREMELY POLITICAL. Take for example our suburb of Panania where large suburban blocks capable of feeding two families (like ours does) is being carved up for concrete subdivisions removing chances and choices of growing your own.  Urban Food Street has also come under the radar of the local council, no doubt looking for a cut of the action where people are self-sustaining without government regulation or intervention.

Family and Food Traditions

I didn’t realise it until a year or so ago the subtle and almost subliminal effect my family had on me and my attitudes to growing food.  Both sides of my family grew their own suburban crops and ate their own food, which isn’t remarkable but for some families, it is.  My Dad every year has tomatoes with leftover Christmas ham.  It’s a summer staple for him and a way to use all the leftover ham.  He often has an egg with it too.



This is my version this morning.  Technically it breaks a rule of the challenge by using ham, but at least its ham that won’t end up in the bin.  Ingredients:  purple onion, water, tomatoes, ham, salt and pepper and yellow zucchini (which is a new crop, I’m loving) he has his on toast but I don’t like bread much, so I ate all of this and it will keep me going till lunchtime (maybe).  I love to eat. I admit I overeat and it’s a habit that I find hard to break.  You may be horrified to learn that this deliciousness was made from overripe, wrinkled tomatoes and some had fruit-fly in it and I’ve always done this and it hasn’t killed me yet. I’ve always been told to cut out or eat around the bad bits.  It’s just how I was raised. The meal still had that strong, sweet taste of summer home grown tomatoes that will always remind me of Dad and my grandfather who made the same thing. Tomatoes, summer, cricket, beach and pool, home grown salads, after lunch naps, rest and regroup after a busy year. After living at home with my kids for a few years, my son, Max now loves this meal. Dad also makes this in bulk and freezes it in Chinese takeaway containers (just tomatoes and onions) and it makes the summer last a little bit longer.  I have a load of basil and soon chillies which I will add to this meal.

Tomatoes are a summer fruit but growing them organically is almost impossible (my experience) but this is how I challenge myself. So far, even crops that were netted are still getting pests. At the moment, I am picking them green and putting them in a brown bag in the dark (I’ll try anything).  This morning I pulled out a semi ripe one from the bag that had a grub in it.  I don’t remember my grandparents having the same trouble with pests that we do in Sydney, but that is probably because they used tomato dust (which I won’t use) so every year I try new varieties and different timing to try and get tomatoes (even if they are just cherries) without fruit fly.  Eating with the seasons is rewarding, time consuming and takes a lot of patience and planning and you may still end up with indifferent results.  You can see why home grown vegies with all the work it entails, doesn’t fit contemporary Australian society that worships “busyness” and encourages a buy till you die attitude.

So I’m encouraging all our growers out there to experiment with me. You could have the smallest crop of veg and herbs and think that it is impossible to create a meal out of it, but have a go!  Go and forage in your garden and find some edible plants, flowers, weeds etc.  Or what about creating a tea, using your herbs? Next, I encourage you to sit and eat or drink your creation and maybe you might still be hungry, but perhaps try a large glass of water with your meal. Ask yourself how satisfied do you feel eating or drinking something you grew. Are you confident you could survive eating like this? If you feel nervous…just google the herb or plant, you’ll be surprised how much is actually edible!   I’d love to see you post your photos of your “30 Days, 30 meals” challenge.  You can post on Instagram with #Panania Free Rangers #30days30meals or post on our Panania Free Rangers facebook page.  I’m sure we can find a prize for the best and most creative all home-grown meal.  I will be looking for some creative advice and suggestions and maybe donations of locally grown ingredients that I don’t have.  I’ll do a video on fruit and veg available at our farms and post to facebook (yuk, I hate doing that) but we need to challenge ourselves, don’t we.  As I sign off with tears rolling down my cheeks listening to George on Rage, I’d like to say for 2017 put your too tight “choose life” t-shirt on, dig out your glow sox and live George’s words “if you’re gunna do it, do it right”. Bye beautiful George and annus horribilus 2016 and bring on a healthy, brave 2017!

I call bullshit…

“I call Bullshit!”


Firstly, let me start by saying the views expressed in this blog, are mine and mine only!

Putting yourself out there in a space that makes you uncomfortable is bloody horrible and I wonder if I will ever get better at it, or if it will always go against my grain.  I fear the latter. I say that because these “presenting” gigs are often driven by old systems in society and structured by old white men that have no interest in any change that undermines their privilege, power or authority.  This is not a man-hating rant, though it may come across that way…more of an observation that we have been doing things the old white man way for too long and I think people are coping, not living, most of the time…Women do occupy the old white man space, so I don’t see it is a gender imbalance more of a systems imbalance.  The earth is at odds with old white man structures and its been telling us that for a while now.

I am instantly anxious in the conference space and I feel like a child looking for an opportunity to play up.  It’s just the “vibe” of the thing.  I get that the pseudo leftys are looking down their glasses at a scruffy 40 year old, foul-mouthed gardener that still thinks farts are hilarious! I don’t like having to curb my behaviour or foul mouth and I will inevitably swear (the naughty kid thing again).    For me, it’s been a killer of a week doing this “get yourselves out there” shit and me trying to behave has pushed me to system shutdown!  Twice this week I thought I would have a stroke or a heart attack. I put my fingers on my neck before we presented and felt my pulse rate at what seemed like 200 beats per minute. I have to keep me telling myself “it’s just your story – that’s all it is”.  It’s not that I am hung up on what people think of me, but that I have to engage with this power imbalance of old white man pompous fuckery and lose valuable, practical, ethical farm time to put myself forward in this bullshit way.  I did wear my Cleaver Green shirt though.  And just on this “conference circuit” thing what is with “paying to present”? I can’t get my head around that.  They want our information, our story, our knowledge but we have to pay for that? That alone speaks volumes about the power structures.  I thought “unwaged” means you don’t have a wage and you should get in for free because you don’t have a fucking wage!  Charging someone and putting a price on someone’s story ….I call bullshit!


We presented at the Australian Earth Laws Alliance (AELA) new economy conference  which I don’t think it set out to be, but had a lot of academics in attendance and as Anna pointed out not so many of the voices of the marginalised under the existing economy ie poor people.  Then again, why would a poor, probably unwaged person pay $90 (I think) to participate in a talk fest.  I reckon you’ve sold your soul as soon as you peel off the sticky white tag with your name on it (which I never want to do) and start polite conversation with the person next to you.  Sticker on, ok now you’re ready to give up yourself to another old white man process and your message will inevitably be bastardised because money and prestige are the transactions at this gig.  I call bullshit!  Having to spend 16 hours inside for a talk fest about the earth when we were enclosed by a building, in such great weather, is criminal and I was staring out the window for most of it thinking I wanted to go outside.

The highlight of the conference for me was everyday people that are having or had their “fuck the system” moment and doing really cool things in their community. Valentine (sorry, didn’t get his last name yet) that gave up fighting government and started teaching people on Palm Island real trade skills.  He showed me the boat he is restoring and has promised to come and visit our farmlets and I felt his interest in what we were doing was genuine because we had connected before either of us knew we were there for bullshit.  He seemed thrilled by the pickles that I gave him that I had in my bag for the radio host.   The conversation with him was one of the genuine exchanges in the conference.  I say this because I traded business cards, took the congrats, offers to help and yet our facebook numbers didn’t spike – and so far no emails or phone calls.  Surely the easiest part of connecting post-conference is liking a facebook page!

Clare, was cool too.  She started an economy of sharing in her local neighbourhood around a car she wasn’t using and had a really cool trading game that showed people can share skills and do away with money and still survive.  And finally, the highly anticipated conference lunch…normally the saving grace of the day but there was an assumption that the room would be full of vegos and yes I had parsley stuck in my teeth all afternoon.   Anyway, we did our thing, people laughed at us trying to overthrow the government with vegetables, but I don’t know again that our message got across which is the same as Pam Warhurst’s “we’re not doing it because we’re bored…we’re doing it because people are ready for change”.  It’s not a new concept that change needs to happen now and it must start locally, where we live, helping each other out. I decided about 12 months ago that I had to stop just waiting for my escape from Sydney to live how I wanted to live and live my life here, where I am at this point in time.  Food, plants and nature is proving daily to me that community can be restored and that food brings people together because everyone eats! I got tired of talk. I’m still tired of talk. I think people are tired of talk.


I am a “big moment” choker.  I choked (as I knew I would) when we did the ABC radio interview – please don’t google it! Our message, aims and “vibe” of what we are doing was largely driven by a script that was prepared from a conversation with the radio producer and myself,  the night before.  My heart rate was at about 220 when I sat in a chair opposite “the host” and I felt my face go “Barnaby Joyce Red” colour and I couldn’t concentrate….maybe this choke was due to the producer the night before warning me I couldn’t swear like I was to her, on breakfast radio.  I told her that on JJJ you always got a language warning and I used to just turn the volume down when I remembered the kids were in the back!  The “where is Panania” question at the start of the interview pissed me off and I felt that class thing off the bat…the “I don’t go out that way much” statement that dominates all media representation, political thought and policy direction for south west Sydney.  I felt that feeling when people don’t understand what we are doing or why we are doing it. Thank Christ, Anna was there to pick up the pieces of the interview.  I did get my photo with B2 of Bananas in Pyjamas fame and said “hi” in a dorky start struck way to James Valentine…oh and someone else at the ABC said that Bankstown Council has told us that we can have a community garden space! First we’ve heard of it!  We know that when they do come and sit at a table in Panania and make a genuine attempt to talk to the people that they will abandon all plans to sell off the green spaces for housing, because only a greedy few want it.  Why should we waste time engaging people that believe and are employed to believe in a failed system?  In the meantime, we aren’t chasing them and planning some more protest planting and a community meeting.


Anyway back outside on Wednesday, feeling comfortable again.  I worked with my neighbour pulling out clumps of Clivia (about 30 years old).  Gardeners will be wincing knowing what I mean about that chore.  My neighbour said I could sell the plants and through social media I met a mother and daughter that were so excited they came back for a second lot and subsequently became our 250th liker on facebook and in the Panania Free Rangers way scored some locally grown orange and mandarin marmalade. This direct and honest communication and interaction with people in our community that come and see the erratic verge and vegies out the front makes people smile  – plain and simple. It’s a genuine exchange.  No bullshit! Again, it’s about the human connection and a fair exchange or transaction between people, not a contrived or produced image or message.


So to end this little rant, I want to say we are doing one more conference haha!  We are planning on making this one funny and kind because that is what we ask ourselves before we do anything.  Is it fun, funny or kind?” The theme is about making connections with plants and people.  I think because the gig is a “plant crowd” that I won’t feel the need to be anything other than myself.  The production may have a language warning!

Going to play outside now…


always wins

Free Ranger Jaq




Pensioner mowing service

It’s coming in to winter and the gardens are slowing down and some people in our community need increasing social support and trips to doctors etc. I was a Jim’s Mowing owner/operator in Queensland and private lawn and garden maintenance worker in the St George and Panania areas while studying.  Recent roles, have included aged and disability care. The Panania Free Rangers are offering mowing and additional extras if required, until the end of December.  As a sole parent for many years, it is understood that the lawn and yard often comes last so we have added “single income with kids” as well.

Have a great day.  Hope you are out in the sunshine :…PFR  mowing promo flier

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