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...