It’s still a cold and wet winter, though those glimmers of
spring promise are palpable in the rays of the dawn sun and the fattening buds
of tree blossom and the flowers discovered hidden among the weeds. Our neighbour (and my
yoga buddy), Jane, keeps weather records and says that we were already beyond
average total annual rainfall by mid-June.
I’m a bit over sloshing through the mud to feed the cows, but with a dry
summer predicted, perhaps I should just get over it and indulge in the wallowing.
The ApiNZ conference went ahead on July 22-24, and was a
fantastic experience with lots of positive feedback. There were several hiccups, but no disasters,
on the organisational front. It’s a
relief that it’s over, but I’m already missing being involved, especially spending
time with the rest of the team (pictured: Lizzy Pllu, Karin Kos, me, Ricki Leahy, Betty Murie, Renee De Luca).
Derryn’s amazing bee-themed quilt raised a magnificent $900 at the Gala
Dinner Auction for Life Flight. 
One of the benefits of the conference was a series of
freebies. Several items were secured on
behalf of our local bee club, like 10 mesh hats that we can use at
workshops. I also scored 8 Manuka trees
that were displayed at the Gala Dinner.
4 of these have already been planted in the unused section of the horse
arena, where we plan to create another woodlot.
The piece de la resistance from the conference had to be securing the
bulk of the honey competition entries.
Some of this honey is taken back by its owners, and the judges take
batch samples back to the lab for testing.
But the remainder? Apparently
it’s a bit of a problem, easily resolved by the simple provision of a box. Just put the unwanted honey in there please,
said I. 
Creating space for the aforementioned mead meant bottling
the incumbent elderberry wine in 3 demi-johns.
It was a pleasant surprise to find this wine to be completely drinkable,
even at its tender young age. The word
on elderberry wine is to expect it to be repulsive until it reaches a
reasonable maturity, when time transforms it into nectar. Let’s hope that mine doesn’t work in reverse
and get less drinkable as it ages. The
main issue here will be finding a way of avoiding drinking it all too
soon. That’ll mean hiding it from
Peter. Eh Peter?
My own honey supplies are dwindling, but next season’s supplies
are looking promising as the hives are surviving winter admirably. Unfortunately this also includes the bitch
queen hive that I’d hoped would die out over winter. In fact I was confident that it was no longer,
as there’d been very little activity around the entrance. I went in to check, and as soon as the hive
lid came off, the noise erupted like a small aircraft. Oh yes, they were live and kicking alright,
and a brief inspection revealed plenty of new brood. Bugger.
They haven’t lost any of their aggression either. The photo outlines the perils of trying to
evict a bitch worker bee from your hair before she stings. Very attractive.
Meanwhile, more of the garden beds have been wintered
down. This includes all the vege garden
and horse arena beds, and the herb and rose gardens. The latter even received a very generous
dollop of horse poo – such a waste of perfectly good poo, but gotta keep Karyn
happy. The Aloe Candelabra was a gift
from our car mechanic (long story) and is planted next to the Yucca. Another gift of some Aloe Vera came from a
work colleague as trade for honey.
Still patiently awaiting attention is the last on the list - the flower
bed. I think I’m avoiding it as it looks
like it might be a massive task, and I’ve run out of pea straw. Hopefully I will get around to it before
spring growth scuppers it all again. 
The worms in Worm Hollow are positively thriving. There's lots of vermicompost for some spring seedling mix, and plenty of vermiliquid too. The bath that houses Worm Hollow has done a great job - a very worthy end-of-life experience for any elderly bath tub. It's lovely to see hundreds of red worms wiggling away through the compost that is simply kitchen waste. Plenty spare for Peter to use them as fish food. 
The tea plants and the citrus were treated with an organic
frost spray. It seems to be
working. The tea plants are looking just
fine and don’t appear to be affected by frosty mornings. I haven’t been brave enough to remove the
frost cloth from the citrus when frosty nights are forecast - not yet at least -
but they are looking healthy. It’ll be a
while before the tea reaches hedge-like proportions and the citrus produce a
decent crop. It’d be great to keep them
alive until then!
The cows are being fed out twice a day. Half a bale each time from me, and a third if
Peter’s dishing it out. He points out
they’re not exactly emaciated, a fair point.
But they do flash those cow eyes at me, and we have plenty of hay this
year. Hermes is the canniest when it
comes to anticipating the exact location of the hay drop hay and being first in
the queue. Athena is usually the last to
work out that grub’s up and how to reach it.
I’m wondering if she maybe lost a few brain cells during her difficult birth.
No cow babies though, so some difficult
decisions may have to be made…
Mamma Mia 2 was released on Chick
Flick night at the local movies. I went
along with some colleagues who have a penchant for dressing up. A toe-tapping movie and a lovely night out – thanks
Jill, Carol, Helen and Clare.
Spending time in the garden
during warmer winter interludes is a real pleasure.
It’s not too hot and not many pesky sand-flies, and the soil is easy to
work. Fantails are constant companions,
and Tuis are often around. When it’s
wet, the shellducks and kingfishers join in, and when it’s warm enough, honey bees
too. Dare I say it, most of the back-breaking work for winter is done. The first spring foliar spraying of the fruit trees (with a heady mix of Effective Microorganisms, neem oil, fish, seaweed, vermiliquid and molasses) has even been completed. The seed catalogues have arrived, been droolingly scrutinised, and an order placed. Seed sowing is next up. That never loses its shine.
