July started off pretty much as expected. I got round to making some of my own beeswax candles, and then got carried away searching the internet for more fun moulds. The gourds are drying out beautifully, becoming browner and with more surface mould. The Ginger and Ginger and Turmeric wine has been bottled and is reasonably drinkable. Signs of spring in the form of fattening buds and bulbs pushing up from under the soil are apparent.
The vege garden was totally wintered down. Weeds cleared, and pea straw, liberal horse poo and carpets applied. Even the raised beds in the horse arena were prepped for the next seasons. More pea straw bales were laying in wait to be spread over the flower garden, and I was feeling pretty good about garden progress.
And then came the storm and the rain and the one-in-a-hundred year flood. I'd attempted to set off for Christchurch at 5am in the dark, but got less than a couple of kms down the road before I accepted that the slips, tree debris and flowing water across the road were too dangerous or impossible to drive through. The Ohinemahuta River level rose horrifyingly rapidly, and by first light on the morning of July 17th, our property became the extended river bed.
As we watched the day dawn we became increasingly anxious for our livestock. Nike and Pandora were stranded on the flood bank, and to release them, Peter had to wade through the deep water and entice them out along the forestry track and onto our driveway. They were brought into the orchard where there was still some grass to be seen. We could see the other cows on the river bank right at the back of our property, but had no way of getting through the raging torrents to get to them. They'd found a small patch of slightly higher ground and we only knew that they were all together when our lovely neighbour Diane called - she could see them from her place. The sheep had been hanging out behind the barn, unseen by us, until the floodwater started to recede.
The bee colony that died a few weeks ago was located in the vegetable garden and would have otherwise perished in the floodwater. The top bar hive is in the horse arena and high off the ground. It was fine, and the other hive next to it was higher up on a pallet. The river ran through its bottom box, but I'm optimistic that the colony has survived because I've seen normal bee activity since. I'll check that out for sure one day, but I'm reluctant to go in and stress them further too soon.
We moved the cars up the driveway when we saw that the water level was rising half way up the tyres. Curiously the flow went along the front of the house and down the driveway to the paddock. It didn't go through the carport next to the garage, and it didn't enter the house, garage, sleep-out, or womb. We'd raised all the sleep-out furniture on blocks and brought the womb contents into the house. We were starting to think about moving upstairs when we noticed that the water level was dropping. Another few inches higher and it would have been a very different story.
Later that afternoon we realised that one of our wetland trees, an old black beech, was down and totally blocking the road. Peter went out with his chain saw and we managed to clear it and bag ourselves some firewood for next year. The tree hadn't been down in the morning and only came down well after the worst of the storm. We were in a good position on the road to see that there had been a significant recession of the floodwaters by then - green grass visible!
I eventually made myself check out the vege garden. It was a deeply depressing sight. Debris everywhere, gravel either halfway down the paddock or totally silted up paths, carpets strewn, pots and pea straw disappeared, the Gin Palace horrendously full of filthy debris, Madame Cholet looking very much like a river had run through her. I went back out the next day, hoping in vain that it wasn't as bad as all that, but it was worse. There are hours and days of work to be done to put it back to how it was.
That was a week ago and we're getting our heads around what to do. It's still hard emotionally to go into the vege garden and see the state it's in, but we've put in an insurance claim and are waiting for an assessor to call. Our river boundary fence is very badly damaged, totally munted in many places with lots of debris and huge trunks and branches along it, and deep boggy mud everywhere. We can't put any of the livestock in the back paddocks until that fencing is secured. Fence work is notoriously expensive, and replacing the vege garden gravel will also cost a packet. I've put an SOS out to my colleagues, asking them to join me for a vege garden working bee in a couple of weeks. If a few lovely people can spare a couple of hours then that'll make a big difference. Several have kindly offered to to come along, so hope that'll end up being heaps more fun than digging up gravel otherwise sounds like.
As I didn't get round to spreading the pea straw in the flower garden, at least that isn't lost. Our hay barn did get water through it, but this has only hit the lowest bales and most of the hay is fine. Getting it out of the barn is a massive mission as we can't get the ute through the silty mud. Even wheelbarrowing a bale or two is tricky enough through that sticky mud and made more difficult because Noddy has to be in that paddock. 
Peter has been busy with his chainsaw, and while he's been chopping up (or down) trees and branches, he's taken a few others that were on the list in the orchard. The beautiful orange wood is the main trunk of the plum tree, one of the original trees in the orchard that was on the list last season, but reprieved itself temporarily when I left it too late and it had budded up. Prior to the storm, I'd treated myself to an early birthday present. It's an electric pruner that looks like a mini chain saw, and very cute it is too. I knew I would be the envy of my gardening friends and in particular Karyn. So, being the generous person I am, I let her play with it today, even though rain is expected so it's totally the wrong time to prune. We had lots of fun and got covered in sawdust, and...cue another photo of Karyn's arse! Finally. I've had to put in two photos of her because the arse one didn't show my pruning saw.
The valley road re-opened later on Saturday afternoon but was not for the faint-hearted for several days. There are several slips piling up mud and debris on the road, like the one in the photo. Maggie wisely decided not to proceed across the silty mud on the forestry road leading down to the river. Several beehives, owned by a commercial outfit, are stacked up just out of view in the photo. It looks like the bees didn't make it as the hive ware is in higgledy-piggledy piles. So very sad.
Some of the huge gums at the North Bank junction came down right across the road, and the remaining ones look very precarious. Hopefully, they'll be chopped down before they fall. Bartlett's Bridge on North Bank and another bridge on Waihopai Valley Road and some of the Sounds roads were taken out, and many people are still stranded on the far side. Residents from low-lying parts of Renwick and Spring Creek were evacuated but able to return the following day, their houses spared. West Coasters in Westport were not so lucky - the same storm caused untold damage and the mighty Buller River did flood into several properties.
Billy is now fully Covid-vaccinated and came back from Sam and Molly's place a couple of days after the storm. I was going to pick him up but he had to settle for the coach again. He does have his own plans in place now and has a flight booked for Spain in mid-August. His next life adventure will begin with an au-pair job he's lined up in Ibiza.
Meanwhile, the Trans Tasman travel bubble has burst because Covid-19 has risen again in Australia. Our planned trip to Sydney in October can't go ahead. It wasn't a surprise really, but gutting nonetheless. That's twice I've booked onto the Spinning Babies Practitioner Aware course and been unable to make it across the ditch.
I've been picking up lots of Covid vaccination clinic shifts. It's relentless work but not hard, and a great deal easier on the mind than midwifery practice. It's also not night and weekend shifts or on-call. And right now it's quite a pleasant distraction from what needs to be done at home.
