Townie on a NZ smallholding

Townie on a NZ smallholding

Wednesday, 26 February 2020

February 2020


The drought has continued, and is now affecting much of New Zealand.  Northland has been hit very badly, and water supplies are being tanked in.  We've had a couple of showery days since December, but nothing heavy.  The plants that have been showing signs of heat stress are still hanging in there.  I've taken to leaving the outdoor hose very slightly running, and leaving it overnight at the bases of those that need it.  The escallonia hedge in the photo has had very little watering, but seems to be thriving.  It's about as tall as me already, and attracting millions of bees. The slow growing ginkgo to the left of the picture is also doing well.


It's been yet another month of relatively little work in any of the gardens (too hot, too busy, too knackered etc etc), and I'm struck by what has enjoyed the lack of attention.  I've lost crops, both in the early stages and when they've gone un-noticed to seed or been devoured by the birds.  But I've also managed to grow things I've either never successfully grown before, or nothing like as well.  I had an 'Oh my gourd' moment of pure joy when I spotted huge bottle gourds lying under impressive gourd foliage on the gravel path.  The original gourd seed plantings had got mixed with other pumpkin seedlings (no, of course I didn't label them Karyn) and planted out long after they'd outgrown their small seed pots.  They weren't staked and had been totally left to their own devices.  The pumpkins that also had the same fate are doing equally well in the same plot.


Other notable surprising vegetable successes include aubergines, peppers and chillies that Madame Cholet has protected.  The undercover cherry tomatoes have also been rampant, whereas those outside have fared pretty badly.  Outside, the rootcrops have loved that neglect, even the carrots are coming away despite the weeds (hard to tell which is which in the photo below right).  There were no Jersey Benney seed potatoes when I was looking, so I went for Cliff Kidneys instead.  I'll definitely grow them again as they've cropped in abundance.  The wheel barrow is full of most of the crop from only 6kg of seed potatoes.  Beetroot and greens have been reliable as always, and this year the swedes are phenomenal.  We've had plenty of surplus to eat, freeze and feed the pigs.  I'd have grown much fewer if I'd guessed how well they were to grow.  
The sweetcorn is cropping now, and the Aztec corn needs checking to find out if it's ready.  The cobs are much smaller than sweetcorn and it'd be a shame to let them go past their prime through ignorance.  Neglect has finished off the onions (I should have been onto that) and I can't remember if I even planted leeks.   Quite a number of lettuces went to seed, as have several brassicas.  The zucchini haven't been as prolific as previous years, and beans (all kinds) have been an almost total flop.


It's good to reflect that ongoing loving attention and dedication isn't universally required for all vegetables.  Maybe it was the attention to the soil quality that meant I've got away with this level of abandonment.  I've been clearing the brassica bed this morning, and am amazed how it's held onto moisture.  The surface soil is dry, but below it's not, and the soil texture is good - slightly moist, friable and wormy.  I'll rake it over in a few days and then plant out the green manure.  

Fruit success has also been mixed this year.  The plums and pears are nowhere near as prolific as last year, but they've still cropped well enough, and to be honest, a smaller crop is easier to manage (though I'm not sure the pigs would agree).  With Sam and Molly's help, the last of the greengages were rescued from the birds right in the nick of time, enabling the even wider spread of greengage-fever this season.  My Westport buddy, Helen, described them as 'stupendous'.  The peaches are starting to colour up and they are much the same in terms of limited volume.  All varieties of apples, including cider apples, are abundant, and the fig and feijoa crops are looking amazing. 


The strawberries have been a disaster.  The biodegradable weedmat simply smothered them.  All of the horse arena beds will need a significant re-think for next year.  None of them have been watered this season, and though some of the herbs are still thriving (peppermint, spearmint, lemon balm, and some of the culinary herbs), others have succumbed to the weedmat experiment - for which I take some responsibility.  Happily in the tunnel house, the ginger and turmeric have bucked this trend and are looking very healthy and vigorous in their half wine barrels.
.

The citrus too are all doing great.  They have been regularly watered and are either beginning to fruit or already prolific.  The lime tree in the half barrel by the house has also grown vigorously, though won't fruit until (hopefully) next year.  The wind protection fencing around the citrus by the sleepout is not needed any more, but is proving tricky to take down. I'm torn between this being a right old pain in the arse and a sense of pride that something I erected is actually robust. 


The flowers have continued to be an utter delight.  I've managed to weed about half of the main flower bed, and really it wasn't a difficult task.  It is full enough of plants that weeds don't get much of a look in.  The abutilon is flowering away and always a deep joy to behold on my way to the vegetable garden.  The flowers are a deep orange and the foliage quite majestic.  It can stay right where it is for as long as it wants.  Dahlias are happily popping up everywhere, and hopefully the bright yellow rudbeckia in the photo will return every year.  The sweetpeas have been utterly delightful, a real success story.  They grew from expired seeds that I just scattered around the base of the koru sculpture.  Hopefully they'll self-seed next year and beyond.







The pigs are getting piggier and huge, and the cows are moo-ier - at least Hera is.  She's taken to mooing loudly and repetitively when anyone appears.  She does respond to an equally loud 'SHUT UP' but it's quite an annoying habit.  We're worried that she may not endear either herself or the farm to any of our Airbnb guests, though so far no-one has complained.


The bees are buzzing around and I'll make one last 'steal' of honey sometime soon, before they are left to winter themselves down.  I've been selling my honey for the first time this year.  My preference is to trade or give it away, but while this works for me, it doesn't suit everyone.  I managed to source some brand new glass jars (a bargain via Trademe), so the honey looks fantastic and much more of a gift than in plastic or re-used pots.  I'm charging $5 a jar to anyone who prefers to pay, and this means I'm recouping over and above the cost of the jars.  I'm continuing to solar-filter and then stock-pile the beeswax and hope to create some of my own candles in the fullness of time (aka when I get round to it). 

Our sons remain busy with their lives wherever they are in the world, and our home is back to being a place of solace and peace.  I've begun my course (hypnotherapy training) and will definitely need to put aside time for studies over the next few months.  Paid work has been a bit overwhelming, but extra is required to fund the study so it's a necessary evil.  Finances will also be needed for the next priority of tidying up the front of the property around the driveway, and making it more easy-care.  I have a few ideas up my sleeve for some changes that would look good and be functional.  
Meanwhile the days are shortening and autumn is beckoning.  The current food abundance from the property is still profoundly satisfying, as is a sense of feeling connected to the land.  The occasional chilly start to the day is very refreshing, and outdoor work can be increased when the temperatures are tolerable.  Thank you beautiful February, and rock on March!