Home | Michael Green

A writing shed

Electric vehicles lead the charge

You can never have too much garlic

ON the 2nd of January this year I wedged open the rotten door to our courtyard lean-to and surveyed the junkpile. There were no windows, so it was hard to see the extent of the filth. It was so full of broken appliances, electronics, dusty boxes and various items of dubious origins that I couldn’t get inside.

Over the next few months I cleaned it out, knocked it down, smashed it up, and built a utopian writing shed in the shell of the old world. Here’s a short documentary about it, made by Andrew McDonald, filmmaker-cum-furniture maker extraordinaire.

WHEN Justin Harding accelerates silently out of a carpark, passers-by do double-takes.

“People wonder what on Earth is going on with that mysterious car that seems to go without starting its engine,” he says, happily.

His number-plates reveal the secret: ELCTR0. Harding, an engineer from Blackburn, finished converting his Mitsubishi Lancer to battery power two years ago.

Around Melbourne, a bunch of first-time farmers are sowing their cloves.

Em Herring has grown garlic once before: in an old tyre on her grandpa’s beef cattle farm in Gloucester, NSW, when she was only 8 years old. “He said to me, ‘Emily, if there’s one crop you grow when you’re older, it should be garlic’,” she recalls. “It’s funny that I’ve come full-circle.”

Herring is now 25, a tertiary-trained musician living in Northcote, and she’s turning back to the land.