May 2015

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. 

We’ve had a couple of big storms, but were nonetheless surprised to discover that a giant willow in the wetland had been knocked over, roots and all, totally trashing a fence.  We don’t know when it happened but it must have been an impressive spectacle at the time.  It’ll probably keep us in firewood for a few years, assuming that we can get hold of a chainsaw big enough to tackle the massive trunk.  Since firewood means heating, hot water AND cooking (indoor and out), that’s a big deal.  

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.”