October 2017

Just a relatively small and quick blog this month.  Since the last blog, we’ve returned from an Australia holiday with Mum and Nick, spring has sprung and the garden is nearly planted up.  Port Douglas, north of Cairns was our destination, and many happy hours were spent exploring the rainforest and the barrier reef.  I could skite more of course, but that would be getting too far from the smallholding concept.  Suffice to say that the photo of the reef was taken from a chopper.

We’re surrounded by glorious trees, plants, flowers, birds and bees.  Truly we are blessed to live here.  The pink of the wild strawberries and the Poached Egg flowers (with resident bee) are some of many vivid colours.  The fresh new growth of the oak trees is breathtaking against a blue sky backdrop.

The fruiting plants are either in blossom or already plumping up their fruits.  Particularly gob-smacking are the old heritage apple trees – both cider trees and the Peasgood Nonsuch are smothered in delicate and beautifully scented pink blossom.  The photos show pear-lets and tiny grapes.  Numerous currants and gooseberries are well on their way and being enjoyed in the meantime by bees.  I’ve managed to get round to kind of sorting out the orchard irrigation – though am not entirely sure it’s working as the hose has become deeply buried.  Hopefully the water will be able to penetrate through.  One Granny Smith apple tree has joined the Black Doris plum that was planted there last month.  Another (they were hard to find this year, so I wasn’t just going to get one, was I?) sits outside the sleep-out, which may end up being a temporary spot.

Peter was chopping a branch off one of the birch trees along the driveway and noticed that sap was pouring out.  He collected some in a glass and left it in the kitchen.  I thought it was some dodgy kombucha and chucked it down the sink.  When we tried again with a spile, the sap flow had already eased off.  Mental note to check a bit sooner next year (maybe early September).  I'm keen to try making birch sap wine.

We’ve just about run out of fresh veg, though some leeks have overwintered well, and the celery has very much enjoyed winter.  Finally, and for the first time I’m now eating homegrown asparagus.  It almost feels like a crime to cut them down.

The veg beds are filling nicely, as plans for developing solar-dehydrated produce are going ahead.  The tray in the photo is covered in raspberry leaves – the very first (hopefully) commercial product from my company-to-be: ‘Kai-Dri’.  It went straight into ‘Solly’ – the solar dehydrator.  The next photo shows some of the many garlic plants and the first batch of corn plants.  There are 300 plus onions fattening up, numerous beans in seed pots or in the ground, zillions more leeks, and enough carrot seed to feed the country.  I hate to admit this, but carrots haven’t yet shown up.  The first planting just didn’t come to anything, and about a month of carrot growth was therefore lost.  Not a good start to carrot triumph, eh Karyn? 

Herbs are also a-plenty.  The entire citrus stock (well, 4 plants) have been dug up and put into large planting bags.  They'll be re-inserted elsewhere in the garden - not sure where yet - so the space they've vacated can be used for the chamomile seedlings that are currently biding their time in Madame Cholet.  Rooting in the warm environment are about 40 chilli plants, which will eventually be a key ingredient of ‘hot salt’.

The bees nearly gave me a heart attack yesterday.  The 2 new hives from Derryn look to be thriving, though no brood yet.  Hope it’s just that the queen isn’t quite mature enough.  Hive 1 is looking fab, full of busy bees, loads of brood and already putting down honey supplies.  Hive 2, whose colony disappeared, was supposed to be housing a split from hive 1.  Several dead bees at the entrance alerted me to something amiss.  Inside were hundreds of dead bees at the base of the hive.  I’m guessing it was probably starvation that killed them – I just hadn’t left enough honey supplies.  A thorough check of the brood frames indicated a possible sign of American Foulbrood (AFB) – a dastardly and highly infectious disease that is reportable.  I sent photos to beekeeping friends who reassured me that wasn’t the case and confirmed the starvation theory.  Phew, major massive phew.  Had AFB been present I’d have had to dig a dirty great hole and burn hives 1 & 2. 

 All the boys managed to make it home to spend a bit of time with Grandma and Grandpa Nick. Some interesting height comparisons were made!  Also on the home front, Peter has managed to successfully raise a clutch of ‘Discus’ fry from a pair that has been unsuccessfully spawning for weeks. 

October rolls on and Christmas beckons.  Eeeek.  Hope to squeeze in at least a little time to ‘smell the roses’ between paid work and smallholding tasks.  Only enough time now to squeeze in a new word ‘Voorpret’ – Dutch for enjoying the anticipation of something exciting about to happen. 

September 2017

Yeehah! Glorious spring is here.  Temperatures have occasionally hit the early 20s.  The lime green of the pasture grass is gorgeous, and blossoms are seriously profuse.  If they’re anything to go by, we’re going to have more plums and peaches than you can shake a stick at.  Even the derided flatto nectarine is smothered in blossom, and the black boy peach in the horse arena is a mass of beautiful soft pink. 

Madame Cholet is hosting a potential feast of seedlings.  Most seeds have germinated so there are heaps of corn, bean, tomato and courgette plants.  The herb seeds are taking their time, as are the chillis, but the warm temperatures should sort them out.  There are also a couple of large trays packed with seedlings that were planted as a reserve in case the self-watering system was a disaster.  It’s a joy to behold, so here’s hoping the ultimate reality matches the dream. 

The raised bed in the horse arena that was last year’s compost bed has been dealt with.  The numerous sticks that had been added too close to the top were pulled out, leaving behind a small mountain of delicious black compost.  There was plenty spare to distribute around the planting beds, and the raised bed itself is now accommodating several thyme plants and a couple of sage, so far.  Plans are to have around a dozen of each, and to grow coriander in between.  Sage cuttings have been taken, and coriander seeds planted.

300+ onions were planted, and four packs of carrots were sown and have been watered daily.  Some leeks are planted surrounding the carrots as a potential deterrent to carrot fly (or as companion plants if not).  Several more elephant garlic were added (thanks Lucy) and other beds are prepared for future planting.  The soil in the keyhole beds is looking really healthy – dark, crumbly and with plenty of organic material.  The generous compost boost, in addition to the horse poo and pea straw it got in autumn, seems to be making a difference.

The foliar spray programme for the fruit trees has kicked off, and amazingly I’ve kept to the schedule so far. All the fruit, including those planted in the veg garden and horse arena, have now had 2 sprayings of a mix of neem, seaweed, fish oil, molasses and EMs. The photos show the neatly pruned and tied in grapes (thank you Peter - very professional) and the emerging buds on one of the entrance pear trees. Not sure how I’m going to know what benefits the spray programme will bring as they’re looking pretty healthy already, but can’t do any harm.  Hope not anyway.

Karyn’s bed has had a bit of a makeover.  The artichokes in the centre were spreading wider and wider.  They’ve been dug out, and some have been transplanted to the flower garden.  Others are liberated to Karyn’s garden.  In their place is a peacharine, and lining each side of the keyhole entrance are 2 blackcurrants.  It’s even looking a bit tidier.

Peter cut down some silver birch logs from the trees along the driveway.  Along with a wineberry log (from a tree that blew down in the last storm), they’ve had holes drilled and shiitake mushroom dowels hammered in and sealed with wax.  They were soaked for 24 hours and dropped onto the concrete path in accordance with the instructions.  They’re stacked in the ‘Fungery’ atop a bed of scraggy old carpet, awaiting fruiting. Now we just need to water and keep waiting.

The cows have been separated.  The boys – Dionysus, Heracles and Hermes – are apart from Apollo and the girls.  It was looking like Dionysus was coming between Apollo doing the business with Hera and Athena.  He’s still the alpha male, and the only one with horns, and usually chief trouble-maker.  However, when the gate was upended from its gudgeon pins and 3 cows were running (and crapping) amok on the driveway, Dionysus was far away and with alibis.  Perhaps Apollo is getting his hooves under the door at last.  Peter managed to return them to the paddock and fortify the gate, and luckily there was very little damage.

The bees are buzzing happily, and any minute now there should be another couple of colonies. Derryn is splitting her hives (hopefully x2 splits) so I should have 3 hives up and running.  There was a potential hitch when Derryn was notified that American Foulbrood (AFB) had been identified within 3kms of her hives.  She’s done a full disease check, and we’re both of the view that AFB is likely to be around whether it’s formally detected or not. My remaining hive is healthy and thriving, and even some signs of honey storage.  The spring varroa strips are in and fingers crossed it'll be a great honey season.

We’re still adjusting to a life without kids.  Happily, they’re all getting on with their lives and not missing home or us at all.  They'll all be back home sometime in the next couple of weeks to catch up with our visitors Grandma and Grandpa Nick.  I'll try and resist the urge to overfeed them, though I'm not very confident I'll pull it off.  Work – both paid and lifestyle - seems to invade any gaps in our lives.  One of my colleagues at the health board has just resigned and that’s likely to lead to more work coming my way at a time when Polytechnic work is increasing towards the end of the academic year.  I’m also involved in the steering committee for next year’s national Apiculture conference, which is in Blenheim (the first time on the South Island).  But the spring garden chores can’t be delayed, so hopefully there’s an efficient way to fit everything in, and perhaps even get round to weeding the other half of the flower garden.  Let's hope that 'garden therapy' works.

August 2017

This is the month when 3 became 2 in our house.  It’s relatively soon after 4 becoming 3, so is taking us somewhat by surprise.  Billy took us oldies out for a beautiful meal before he left (at D'Urvilles), setting the bar for future treats from our offspring no doubt.  At the weekend we drove in convoy with Billy down to Christchurch, and left him there, flatting with Lucas.   It was a lovely opportunity to catch up with all the kids (now aka ‘The Butter Chicken Boys’) for an evening out.  Then we returned home sans infants, wondering whether there’s an etiquette for crossing the threshold after your kids have all flown the nest?  In the event we were too knackered and full of flu to do anything other than collapse on arrival.  It’s my first ever brush with flu and perhaps I’ll consider eating my words and getting the jab next year…

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, not a great deal is going on.  It’s been a very wet and cold winter, and now the spring winds are joining the party.  Mostly the ground is slumbering, but the wily old weeds are quietly beginning their takeover.  A recce around the property today found a number of signs of spring - raspberry leaves, plum blossom and rosemary flowers for starters.

I’ve done some research into foliar spraying and will begin a programme of regular fruit tree sprays over the next couple of seasons.    A mix of seaweed extract, neem oil, liquid fish, molasses and Effective Microorganisms (EMs) will kick off the regime, and eventually will include a range of teas (comfrey, nettle, manure).  It’s about time the fruit got a bit more attention than its usual bit of pruning and an occasional dollop of mulch.  The EMs were a birthday present from my beloved and just exactly what I wanted.  Yes, I am a bit weird like that.

The lawn needs mowing, so pasture growth must be happening.  The paddocks are changing to a fresh lime green, at least the bits that the cattle haven’t pugged or trampled.  It’ll be a big relief when we can stop feeding out hay to the cattle, a task that has become a massive chore.  A little while ago the cattle (lead by Dionysus of course) broke into the hay storage and trashed the bales.  This made it much less easily transportable, and coupled with extensive rain, very tricky to move efficiently from the hay shed to the cattle.  Wheel-barrowing loose hay across a bouncy flooded paddock with the wind whistling through your hair and the hay isn’t fun in any way.  Whilst this is happening there’s a chorus of nagging moos, mostly from Dionysus.  We decided to buy in some extra hay, just a little to tide over the next few weeks.  I put out a request on the good old Onamalutu Facebook page, and within an hour a neighbour called round to let us know of some locally available.  That’s a 2^nd straight and relatively immediate response to a request – very impressive, and a good feeling of a supportive community around us.

In Madame Cholet I've set up a self-watering system, and amazingly it seems to be working.  I was looking into wicking fabrics and had just about ruled them out because of expense when I came across the very cheap blankets that are used for cushioning furniture during removals.  It seemed pretty wool-like, and a like experimentation confirmed that it could wick water.  A long thin strip is submerged at one end in a box of water, and this runs down through a sequence of planting boxes that will contain soil blocks.  Gravity helps the wicking process, and the dampness should keep the blocks moist and add moisture to the tunnel house to help provide optimal seed growing conditions.  It's all very exciting, and I'll probably patent it one day (haha) and make my fortune.  I'm hopeful that it'll reduce the need for daily watering, and that the seedlings in the soil blocks will transplant as well as the soil blocker manufacturers claim.  The photo shows rocks holding down the wicking fabric, but eventually these will be filled with soil blocks (like in the photo above).   The system seems to be working as some of the seeds sown in the soil blockers are already germinating.  So far just thyme and chamomile, but the promise is there and more blocks will be created and seeded this weekend.

The moon garlic is coming away beautifully, even some bulbs visibly swelling, and the onion seedlings are ready for planting out.  Another chore for the weekend ahead, but one that brings pleasure and promise. It's tempting to get a couple of packs of carrots out too, but probably just getting unnecessarily ahead of myself.  It is still August after all.

Work on the sleep-out has continued, and it’s definitely getting there.  We have yet to dig an internet trench, and there are a few finishing-off tasks to do, but it’s essentially ready to use.  UK visitors (mum and Grandpa Nick) will be here in September.  If it’s warm enough, they can be the first guests, and if it’s still chilly, then Peter and me can bless it ourselves.  We've also invested in a water blaster, which should come in handy for cleaning Lazy Mazy and several other jobs. Karyn has a bit of a water blaster fetish (what was that about being naked Karyn??) and has already been unable to stop herself from cleaning a patch of concrete at the front of the house.  Ah, the potential for abuse is so tantalisingly high.


There's a sense of calm before the storm in terms of spring chores, which is welcome if not a little delusional.  I'm ignoring the weeds popping up in the flower beds and pathways, and lulling myself into the belief that I'm on top of things.  No change there then.  I've also made the momentous move of tendering my notice for one of my jobs at the end of the year.  Bit of an eeeek moment, but optimistically the universe will pick me up and set me on the best track.  Perhaps I'd better drink to that...

July 2017

A small classified ad on the Onamalutu Facebook page, asking for the loan or purchase of a bull to provide bespoke services to our heifers, achieved success within minutes.  Some neighbours have a beautiful 2 year old Murray Grey bull who was on a temporary stud-break.  Currently surplus to their requirements, they were happy to offer his services.  He’s a gentle and relatively timid beast who arrived after a short stroll down the road on a lead.  He fitted in straight away, and – joy of joys – has already enjoyed a measure of rumpy-pumpy with Athena.  As he’s not technically ours, we’ve given him a Roman god name, rather than Greek.  Thanks to Peter and Sarah for the loan of the lovely Apollo.  We’ve been feeding out hay for a few weeks now, and all the cattle have become tamer.  Dionysus is quite demanding and can moo very loudly if the need arises, which apparently is quite often.  He’s managing to hang onto his status as top cow, but maybe Apollo will eventually stage a coup.

The sheep are still not obviously looking like lambing, so not good news for Leggy, but not over yet.  It’s quiet without chooks or pigs, but also quite a relief to be free from twice daily feed rounds.  Some work needs to be done with the original chook run as it’s been trashed by the cows and is quite an eyesore, spoiling the view from the sleep out.  We plan to extend the garden area to accommodate Lazy Mazy (in all her future glory) and possibly a small shed to do some produce preparation for dehydrating.

More garlic has just been planted after this month’s full moon.  The vege garden is gently sleeping and enjoying many (bug-killing) stunning frosty mornings.  The frosted parsley looks absolutely gorgeous. The tea cuttings and onion seedlings are still alive and seem to be thriving, and another batch of onion seeds recently sown.  A little more tidying up has happened: lavender hedge trimmed, raspberries trimmed back but awaiting tying-in, more raking up of pea-straw and leaves.  Otherwise it’s been left in peace, though as the seed catalogues have just arrived, probably not for long.

Shiitake mushroom dowels have arrived.  Hopefully we’ll get round to cutting down and drilling some birch logs soon to get them started.  Also in hand is a button mushroom kit, which will be activated soon.  The ‘Fungery’ space is cleared, so we just need to work out how best to prop up the logs and sort out a trough to put mushroom compost in for the buttons.  The research is enjoyable, and I’d be very tempted to attend a mushroom growing course if only there was one nearby.

A new bare-rooted Black Doris plum tree is waiting for its planting moment.  There’s already one in the orchard, but it was badly damaged by a storm.  It’s propped up and looking considerably worse for its ordeal, but we're giving it a chance to re-invent itself.  The fruit we managed to save was stunning and dried beautifully, and it’d be awful to think we’ll ever be without them if that original tree doesn’t recover.   A spot has been dug out for the new tree, and while I was out there, I did some tidy-up pruning and sorting out of stakes.  Can’t wait for the summer fruit crop. It's beautiful to see the blossom buds swelling on the fruit trees, a feel-good sign that spring is coming. The cows have had a couple of sessions in the orchard, chowing down on the green pasture.  They have to be watched in there all the time, and then herded out at the precise moment they decide they’ve had enough to eat and it’s playtime.  Hermes is the worst culprit for lingering beyond last orders.

Our attention has been totally tuned in to the sleep out project.  Myriad tasks have been completed, though several more remain.  The painting is complete and there’s some furniture, including a bed.  We’ve stripped down and up-cycled a set of drawers that was formerly part of a dressing table.  Some decorative knobs (I’ll do the jokes) have lifted it beautifully.  Curtains are still needed, as is a kitchen cabinet of sorts.  We’ll also need to work on getting some internet out there.  We’ve been advised that a booster may not be effective, so it’ll probably mean digging a trench so that a cable can be connected from the modem in the house to the sleep out.  Another happy little project. The room photos are neither 'before' nor 'after', more of a progress record.

Karyn has been helping with the design aspects of the sleep out.  I haven’t yet managed to get her to roll up her sleeves, but her advice has been great, sometimes even golden.  I am a person with no taste, as opposed to bad taste - an important distinction.  When you have no taste, it’s possible to occasionally, accidentally and randomly select something that is utterly tasteful.  This can happen even without the injection of cash, but is more likely if you can throw lots of money at it.  I’ve never been accused of being a perfectionist, really more of a bodger.  I was a tomboy and am now a wild rural woman who has never ever been heard saying ‘what gorgeous shoes’.  As far as I’m concerned, clothes are what you wear to stop being naked, and I know it shows.  Probably a congenital abnormality.  Anyway, the likes of me definitely need the likes of Karyn to save me from my worst excesses.  Thank you for saying it as it is Karyn, and sorry for those moments when I’m totally a lost cause. 

The garage bathroom has been mostly re-decorated, but a small disaster on the toilet front has delayed progress and we may need to get a plumber to sort it out.  My fault of course.  The toilet has always rusted up quickly, and it didn’t take too much detective work to realise that it may be because the cistern was coated with rust and full of ghastly orange water.  The task to clean it out was unpleasant but successful, except for the little matter of the leak. 

The bees are still buzzing whenever it’s warm enough, and I’ve been unable to turn down the opportunity of adding another hive.  Peter’s dragged out a solid pallet and hive 3 will sit behind Madame Cholet, alongside the grape vines.  I really really don’t need any more hives but the universe must have realised that actually I really really want another, and conspired to bring one to me.  Here’s hoping that hive 1 is strong enough for a triple split in spring, or maybe I’ll be lucky enough to acquire a nuc from a fellow beekeeper.

Progress has been made in terms of researching a possible solar-dehydrated business.  I’ve run the idea past an environmental health officer, who didn’t show any outward signs of thinking I’d lost my marbles.  She had a couple of suggestions that will need following up, such as testing our water supply to make sure it meets commercial standards.  The council’s small business adviser has put me in touch with local food safety experts, and confirmed that I’m allowed to run a home based business on this property.  If it goes ahead, the business will be known as ‘Kai-Dri’.  It has an impressive logo, designed by Lucas.  He’s already got some ideas for a website.  The business is officially registered, making me not only a CEO, but also the principal share-holder, and the proud owner of one whole share.  A totally novel experience.  Here’s hoping I can get the business off the ground next year.

Sam’s been home for a weekend, after a hideous drive via the inland route.  Bad enough in itself, but a 4 hour delay at the site of a burning chemical truck extended the 6.5 hour drive considerably.  Snow also slowed up progress.  Lovely to see him, and roll on the completion of the coastal road repairs.  Billy is waiting for confirmation of an apprenticeship that will mean a move to Christchurch.  Amazing that all 3 boys will end up in the same city!  And another adjustment for us oldies left behind.  I should probably book in for a bit of therapy.

So much for a lifestyle block blog this month: very little to say about the land.  Could that possibly reflect the preparation and graft that has kept us busy these last few years, that we’re finally getting organised?  Nope, too ridiculous.  Maybe winters have always been like this?  I don’t think so.  In total denial?  Yep, that’ll be right.