April 25th was the 100th anniversary of the
Gallipoli landings. We attended the dawn
ANZAC service in Picton. Us and a few
hundred others. Like most commemoration
services around the country, it was very well attended. We should have better accounted for parking,
and this was about only time when we were delighted to have to park miles away
from an event. The service was lovely,
even from a distance, and Picton was simply stunning at daybreak. Sam was playing his cornet and marching with
the band in Blenheim, so we went onto that service too.
Back home, I’m slowly working my way
through the vege beds, either wintering them down or re-planting with winter
crops. Probably I need to stop planting,
but somehow I can’t. I was obliged to
rescue some cabbage seedlings which were out-growing their little 6-packs and
were reduced to merely $1 per pack. Surely
we’ll eat 12 cabbages over winter? Once
I’d mentally committed to buying them, it was easy to justify getting a pack of
onion seedlings since I was going to be planting anyway. I’ve been looking for a smallish tree to
replace the maple which we used to decorate with Christmas lights until it blew
over in a storm. A dwarf gingko talked
me into buying it – all ancient, gnarly, mystical, and medicinal - right up my
street. I got it in and staked within an
impressively tiny amount of time. Since
I might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, 2 feijoa trees also found
their way into my shopping basket. They
are heeled into the vege garden until they can be planted in one of the new
horse arena beds.
The horse arena is looking a lot tidier
since Jorgi came and spent a day clearing it.
There’s plenty more left to go so we’ll probably ask him to come back
another day. We’ve acquired 12 compost
boxes (thanks Karyn!) which will work well as raised beds. The plan is to get them in position in the
horse arena and plant them up with olive trees.
The horse arena is starting to take shape, but it’s a big area and we
haven’t yet planned what to do with all the space. Here’s hoping that it will evolve organically
and be all the better for our lack of foresight…
The carrots in Madame Cholet are finally looking unmistakably like carrot seedlings. Very few of the peas germinated, though they’ve probably provided a good many meals for rodents. Some tomato seedlings have germinated from the tomatoes left to rot. I’m intrigued about how they’ll progress over winter, so they’re staying put. The temperature in there is still reaching the late 20’s or even early 30 degrees most days.
The new bed in the vege garden is complete and keeping cosy beneath a layer of hay. It'll be good-to-go for next year's crops. I've acquired more of the winery steel support structures (thanks again Karyn!) so it'll be home to tomato seedlings in spring. It should be beautifully nutritious soil, having been the base for a huge compost pile for the last year.
And talking of clearing, Sam had a pretty
good idea. There’s a large raised bed in
the garden which kind of just sticks out into the lawn. It’s home to a gorgeous Acer (of the maple
kind, not the computer!), a large overgrown Daphne, a wild Rose, numerous bulbs
and zillions of weeds. It sits above the
septic tank access, which causes anguish for the bloke from ‘0800 FARTED’ when he
comes to empty it and has to scurry in the undergrowth to locate it. It bothers me from time to time when I can’t
help thinking it’s a bit of a weedy eyesore but it will be months before it
reaches the top of the priority list. Sam’s
idea was to clear it and re-claim it as part of the lawn, and since it was his
idea, he’s got the job. The maple tree
is staying and the bulbs will be re-homed.
The rocks which raised the bed are being re-used – some around the fruit
beds in the vege garden, some around the ponds, and the rest will await their
fate. Everything else is compost. Once completed it will optimistically reduce
some of the garden workload and provide a more significant fire break around
the house.
And talking of fire, the Onamalutu valley
has been alight again. Much less
dramatic this time, but a lot closer to us than the last fire. It was a ‘skid fire’, allegedly the formidable
result of the composting process! The forestry practice of burying unwanted
logs and branches in huge holes means that there’s lots of both composting and
combustible material. That compost can
get hot enough to spontaneously combust is an amazing concept. In this case the fire was blamed on some
recent light rain which accelerated the composting. 5 hours of choppers and monsoon buckets and a
night of heavy rain weren’t enough to extinguish the blaze, which burned like a
bonfire overnight. The photo shows how
close to us it was.
The orchard trees have been pruned and their branches tied down for shaping. This year I've had to do it on my own, unable to coordinate with Derryn who has a much better eye for this than me. Hopefully it's not too much of a stuff up. Peter's sawn off a couple of big branches from the bigger nectarine and plum trees which we hadn't touched until this point. We've heard that this kind of wood will make good wood-smoke for cold-smoking, so it'll be reserved for that. That does require us to actually get a cold-smoker, which is another project. Our new neighbours (Shona and Craig) have smoking experience which we hope to tap into. The pigs are nearly ready so we'd better get on with it.
The reduction in egg numbers to less than
one a day meant that some (4) chooks have been dispatched. This time Billy helped with the plucking,
though it can’t be said that he enjoyed this opportunity to hone an important
life skill. We now have one rooster
(Cornelius II), 2 moulting hens, 2 teenage hens and 5 youngsters. They’re all housed together in the orchard
run. They seem to have worked out the
new pecking order with a minimum of fuss, which is a big relief. The old run will receive a make-over during
winter. We originally designed the run
without a wire roof, but added one when it became apparent that hawks were
flying in and taking baby chicks. It was
a hurried and dodgy DIY job using some old electric fence ribbon and recycled
vineyard bird netting – mostly effective (give or take a few escapees) but ugly and way too low to walk under. Stooping at our age is no fun, especially
when it involves unpleasant little tasks like cleaning up poop or catching
wayward chooks.
The remaining 5 lambs are 10 months old, so
it’s time to dispatch them too. The
home-kill man will come next week, and we’ll also farewell Rambo. We’ll keep an eye out for another ram so that
we get a bit of varied genetics. 3 of the
lambs are going to friends, which will still leave us with an abundance of
meat. Glen is having one of them, and
he’s coming round to help with the butchering of his and ours. It’ll be a bit of a gruesome day, though no
doubt made lighter with Mandy’s (Glen’s wife and fellow midwife) vivacious
company. Maggie will of course be
happy.
I paid the ultimate price for not turning
up to our beekeeping club’s AGM – in my absence I was voted in as
secretary. Bugger. It’s an irony as I’m the person with the
least amount of beekeeping knowledge and experience. Still I guess they knew that. I’ve just done a full disease check of my
hives and removed the Bayvarol (varroa) strips that went in a couple of month
ago. Both hives are looking good with plenty
of brood, stored honey and pollen. However they have very different
characteristics. Hive 1 is loud and defensive and doesn’t tolerate my
clumsiness. Hive 2 is gentle and calm,
to the extent that I can get right into the brood boxes before they become even a bit agitated. Fingers crossed that they both make it
through winter.
Having picked up an ancient double-boiler
from an antique shop delightfully called ‘Rust and Dust’ in Murchison, I
finally got round to having a go at dipping beeswax candles. It’s obviously quite a craft which will take
some time to perfect, but even though they looked odd they at least functioned
as candles and smelled heavenly when lit.
I’ve also had a bash at making some ginger wine, using an original Mrs
Beeton’s recipe. It should be ready in a
month, when she suggests you stop the fermentation and mix in 75mls of
brandy. Then you can simply add whisky
for a whisky mac. I’m not entirely sure
that’s the same version of ginger wine that Peter remembers fondly from his
childhood, but I am looking forward to drinking it.
On the home front, our living room has been
transformed by a rug. I managed to
choose one which met with the approval of the young men of the house. And the dog.
We’ve moved the furniture around to accommodate the bright blue rug
which is now a popular place on which to slob.
It also conceals a number of carpet stains of known and unknown
origin. It should postpone the need to
re-carpet for a few more years. Sam has
passed his full driving test so can now legally transport Billy around –
something which we intend to totally abuse in the next few months of him still
living at home. Billy’s taken up
Taekwondo again and it’s the soccer season, so there’s lots of to-ing and
fro-ing. It’s scary to think that he’ll
be 15 next month. When Lucas was that
age he was behind the wheel of a car, but the law has since changed so Billy
will have to wait another year. That’s
enough time for a bit more therapy!
I made my first trip to Australia this
month. Brisbane was the host town for
the ‘Passage to Motherhood’ conference.
The mostly Australian audience were appreciative of my presentation
(‘Does meconium deserve its crap reputation?’) and the whole conference was inspiring. It was a sunny 24-28° and having left a
frosty morning back home, it felt to me like summer was back. It was quite a surprise when it was dark by 5:30pm. I didn’t get to see much of
Brisbane as the conference took up most of the daylight hours. It was enough to whet my appetite to return
one day though. The photo shows the city
at night from the walkway bridge over the Brisbane River.
Many wise words were spoken at the Brisbane
conference. These by Einstein were the
most profound to my ears. It’s something
that I bear in mind when my tired inner voice tries to persuade me to just
obliterate those weeds and pests with nasty chemicals, rather than think of a
better way.
“We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking
that created them.”
