Townie on a NZ smallholding

Townie on a NZ smallholding

Saturday, 26 November 2016

November 2016



There’s been lots going on at home in the last few weeks.  On October 30th there was a dusting of snow on Mount Riley (1314m), but since then summer’s been trying to get her feet under the door.  More than adequate rain but plenty of sun too, and no shortage of the usual spring nor-westers.  It was 30 degrees yesterday, and the combination of sun and rain means everything’s growing.  Hay making won’t be far off – it’ll be good to get that done well before Christmas for a change.





On November 14th, the people of Kaikoura and surrounds experienced a massive 7.8 magnitude earthquake.   Kaikoura was dealt massive damage, and has been pretty much cut off.  We’re a little over 100kms away and it was bad enough here.  Pictures and ornaments were thrown around, but thankfully for us, nothing worse.  The computer survived to tell the tale.  Some of the wineries have had significant losses (all that wine…) as have other Blenheim businesses.  Wellington also bore a hefty brunt and there are many buildings will need strengthening or bulldozing.  Several aftershocks have been pretty huge quakes in their own right.  State Highway 1, that links Blenheim to Christchurch, has been so severely munted that it may never re-open.  That beautiful coastal road.  The only current road route to Christchurch is via the inland Lewis Pass and adds about 3 hours to the journey.  We’ve had to make alternative travel plans for our Christmas visitors (Kaja, Michael and Melissa) and for Lucas to get out of Christchurch for the festivities.

The earthquake was soon followed by extensive rain.  The resulting flooding temporarily closed State Highway 6 – the route between Blenheim and Nelson, adding to the chaos caused by the destroyed coast road.  The wetland had a good dousing and provided quite a playground for the cows.  On the whole it’s been good to have plenty of rain, especially after the recent droughts.

We were the happy recipients of two Jersey cross cows, re-located from Wairau Valley to here.  Karyn and Greg chose the smallest of the pair, in the hope that that’s a temporary size only.  In the absence of a Greek God of bicycles, he’s named after the God of transport – Hermes.  We finally settled on the name Heracles for his partner in crime.  They’ve quickly made themselves at home.  Heracles has already proved his worth by obviously responding when Athena and Hera were on heat.  Both heifers were finally artificially inseminated so hooves crossed that was successful.  As the smallest, Hermes is bottom of the pecking order, but he’s working out that if he spends time with Dionysus, then mischief can prevail.  Dionysus found his way into the vege garden one day, trying (we think) to get closer to Hermes who had been separated from the others at the time.  He was chased out through the gate, then turned round and hopped straight back in over the fence like he’d been doing it all his life.  He’d better not be teaching the others that particular trick. He has also shown both Hermes and Heracles how to break into the chook run.  No idea why either, but apparently bird netting is delicious.

The same weekend that the cows arrived, we also collected pigs.  Karyn and I drove out to Nuggety Creek in the Wakamarina Valley to collect 4 gorgeous Wessex Saddlebacks.  They came from a free range farm where the pigs roam anywhere and everywhere.  They were about 10 weeks old when we picked them up, and bigger and sturdier than any pigs we’d raised before.  It took a while to work out we had 3 boys and 1 girl.  In keeping with our other ‘classic’ name choices, they’ve been named Nemo, Bruce, Crush and Darla.  Darla is the smallest but the feistiest.  Like all pigs they love weeds and have shocking table manners.  They’re great entertainment value.

We reviewed our previous methods of sprouting grains, and instead of using hand sewn muslin bags we are now using buckets that have small drilled holes in the bottom.  When we rinse (twice a day) the water just slowly leaks out of the bottom.  The grains themselves (actually only peas so far) are kept moist with a damp piece of towel and protected by wooden boards.  It’s considerably easier than the bag system and they remain outside, not in the kitchen.   The sprouted peas are a good protein source and are very popular with the pigs.



On the maintenance front, we’ve had another load of lime spread, and we’ve re-painted the house with preservative.  Dull, boring tasks but necessary.  We last painted the house 5 years ago, not long after we moved in.  We have a longer ladder now, so it was a tad easier this time.  The lime has only been applied to half the property because a miscalculation meant that double the dose was applied.  In the big picture it wasn’t a bad mistake, because there’ve been many years without lime.  It just means that next year the other half of the property should also receive a double-dose. 

Since the chooks were confined to barracks, there was no longer an excuse no ignore the flower garden.  It was finally weeded, watered, rearranged and mulched with barley straw, and is now looking quite beautiful.  It’s filling out with self-seeded annuals, and the perennials have begun to flower.  The paeonies are more glorious than ever before; even the roses are looking (and smelling) quite lovely.





The orchard is very much looking like an orchard.  Some trees, like the plums, are fruiting away, whilst others are less abundant than last year.  The Broxwood Foxwelp cider tree looks healthy though isn’t laden, and the brand new Cidre Bisquet tree fruited its little heart out but they didn’t set.  It’s not looking good for cider this year.  Luckily there’s always next year.





The vege garden is gradually being cleared, and planted with a variety of seedlings nurtured by Madame Cholet.  Far too many lettuces and probably enough tomatoes to feed the country, but otherwise a good selection of veges are on their way.  The straw mulch has worked a treat to keep weeds down, but it gets shifted around a lot by the wind, sometimes overwhelming young seedlings.  Rampant wild rabbits have also caused some destruction.



The bees swarmed again, and also went to a new loving home.  Same hive, quite amazing that any workers are left, but they definitely are.  Each hive now has an extra honey box on top, so they shouldn’t be able to complain about limited space.  I’m hoping to take the first batch of honey off at the end of the year when there’s no risk of tutin. 
November 21st was Dad’s birthday.  Usually I choose some flowers from the garden and gift them to the sea off Karaka Point in the Marlborough Sounds, where we scattered some of his ashes.  That wasn’t possible this year, so instead they were thrown into the Onamalutu River, where they danced a while before being taken downstream. 

Lucas starts his new job at the end of the month.  Sam has been accepted by the NZ Army as a band musician, and Billy has taken up a chef apprenticeship.  He has yet to be eligible to sit his restricted driving licence, so we’re having to do the drop offs and pick-ups, but no more school bus runs.  Ever.  Not quite flown the nest, but definitely those boys are moving into new life phases.  I’m not feeling old at all…

Tuesday, 18 October 2016

October 2016



Several episodes of rain have contributed to the lush spring pasture growth.  It’s fantastic timing to give the orchard tree roots a good soaking, as most are smothered in blossom. After their severe prune at the end of last season (thanks Sue McNabb - excellent tip!), the cocktail kiwifruit is actually fruiting for the first time ever.  It was warned it had one last chance to be productive or face the chop permanently.  The currants are flowering away too, and the gooseberry bed has been weeded and tended, and my arms are recovering from that spiky ordeal.  The cider apple trees are budding up but are yet to blossom so I’m keeping my fingers crossed.  It’ll be tricky to retain my queen of cider status without that key ingredient. 


Peter put the new hand shears to the test, with Sam’s help, and now the two scruffiest sheep – Shaggy and Simba - are successfully shorn.  ‘Successful’ is really a matter of opinion as far as our shearing is concerned, but at least they’re ready to face the summer heat.  Still no sign of imminent lambs, which is very disappointing, though all hope is not yet lost.  I’m probably imagining a few rotund ewe bellies, but I hope not.


Numerous vege, flower and herb seeds are planted and some are already germinating.  Spending time in Madame Cholet tending them is an absolute pleasure.  Outside, garlic and potatoes are sown out too, and only a little weeding will be needed to clear the other keyhole beds.  Most of the winter veges are over and done with, and I’m leaving the brassicas to flower so that the bees have a little extra nourishment.  The asparagus are cropping for the first time - barely enough for a meal, but at least it can be called an asparagus patch now.  Spuds are planted in the bed shown in the photo below.  They'll be joined by beans once the risk of frost is past.  Apparently they are good companion plants for each other.

The wetland is filling rapidly with millions of crack willow shoots.  It’s depressing to think about how much work it would be to get rid of it all – well beyond what we could achieve on a weekend or two.  At least I’ve finally got round to planting out some black beech and Ti Kouka (cabbage) trees, in the vain hope that eventually the native plants will overcome the introduced willow.  The cabbage trees from earlier planting missions have been the most successful.  They’re considerably bigger than the foot-high sticks they started out as.  I’m looking forward to seeing them evolve into weird and wonderful shapes.  There are many flax too, and a handful of lancewood, totara and others.  Not a huge success when you think about how many plants went in, but not a total disaster either. 


The chooks have been moved back into the orchard house/run, where they’ll be contained for a few weeks.  This should allow time to get the flower and herb gardens mulched before it gets too hot.  Peter’s added a couple of features to their run – a chook swing (I know) and a covered area over a dust bath.  It feels mean to coop them up when they have lots of fun clucking about the place, but hopefully it’s only temporary, and at least they can practice trapeze acts.



Three little shoots of ginger from some roots that were planted in a pot indoors are popping up.  The plan is to transplant them into a half wine barrel in Madame Cholet.  I’d be amazed if one day we’ll actually be able to harvest ginger roots, but maybe it’s easier than I’m imagining.  So far so good anyway.  Also planted are some turmeric roots, but they have yet to declare themselves.   Seeds of liquorice, peppermint, spearmint, chamomile, anise hyssop, lemon balm and bergamot are also starting to germinate.  The ‘tea garden’ is emerging!



I’ve been getting out ‘n about on a few walks, and am especially enjoying the Onamalutu reserve.  The only downside is that dogs aren’t allowed, so Maggie misses out.  There’s a circuit that takes around half an hour to walk, and it includes the open field of the campground, a forested stretch among native bush and magnificent kahikateas, and of course, the meandering Onamalutu river.  Magic.  

On the cow insemination front, we’re still waiting to coordinate their heat with ours and the

vets’ availability.  Our availability that is, not our heat.  Karyn has been looking for a steer to fatten up and convert into sausages as a fund-raiser for Greg’s cycling events.  She eventually appointed Peter as her stock agent, and he’s managed to find not one, but 2 steers, at a reasonable price.  They should be here in a few days, so photos in the next blog.  We’re going to keep the other in the absence of our own calves.  Also we have excess pasture right now, and still have lots of hay left over from the relatively mild winter, so could easily feed another couple of mouths.  Discussions are ongoing about names, as we’re insisting on Greek Gods.  Karyn may or may not hang onto ‘Gravel Rash’ as a nick-name for hers.
  
We’re also ready for more pigs at last.  The new run isn’t ready yet, but the old one has been prepared.  There’s hay in the shed (including in the rafters for insulation), clean water in the half barrel, and the potato crop is protected with solar electric fencing.  Peter has re-constructed the feed trough to be much weightier, and has built a platform for the old concrete horse trough so that it drains better.  It’s time to just add pigs.  Eventually the plan is to transfer them to the new run once we’ve had enough time to pig-proof it and sort out some shelters.

The bees received their miticide strips (for varroa) in mid-September.  A subsequent hive check showed healthy and very numerous bees in both hives, with hive 1 bursting at the seams.  I only had one spare honey box with frames, so that went onto hive 1.  Then the noise and activity of hive 2 started to rise, so I went back in and swapped the brood boxes around in the hope that would provide more space.  There were some empty queen cells and I assumed the hive must have already swarmed.  But that same afternoon (16th October) they really did swarm – no wonder they were getting noisy.  It was a good volume of bees that settled onto the base of a post and on the grassy ground where it was nigh on impossible to capture them.  When they were still there hours later (and despite the provision of a rather attractive cardboard box hive right next to them), I brushed as many as possible into a box, in the hope that included the queen.  The swarm was then gifted to some ‘newbee’ beekeepers who were delighted to be able to kick-start beekeeping in earnest.

The ground was prepared and grass seeds were scattered in the area above the septic tank that was cleared last year.  Then the chooks scoffed the lot, so it’ll have to be re-sown now that they’re contained.  Also sown in the paddocks are a range of pasture seeds, including red clover, buck wheat and herbal lee seeds for grazing animals.  When I say ‘sown’ I mean sprinkled by hand after being mixed in a bucket of sand.  Not an exact science, but hopefully some will thrive and ultimately set more seed of its own. 
  
The mercury has hit 25 degrees, but the blustery nor-westers that remind you it’s still spring.  The sand-flies are taking over the world again, limiting the pleasure of working outside.  There are still several thousand jobs to be done, but for the first time, I haven’t committed myself to big new spring projects and I don’t feel overwhelmed.  The vege garden is complete, and if I’m honest, is probably too big, especially now that the boys are flying the nest.  It’s a luxury of a problem that I won’t dwell on.  I’ll just get on with planting it all up.  The gravel paths and thickly straw-mulched beds are already reducing the workload for this time of year.  The photo shows Karyn (well, Karyn's fine bottom) weeding her little slice of paradise.  She'd been gloating about her parsnip growing success.  To me, being smug about root vegetable success is not an attractive trait, so a shot of her backside is totally justified, if not strictly necessary.




All the boys are working on their life-plans.  Lucas is spreading his wings and actively seeking new work challenges.  Sam’s still waiting to hear if he’s employable as a musician, and Billy’s keen to leave school and take up a chef apprenticeship next year.  Watch this space…

Wednesday, 21 September 2016

September 2016


I’ve been pre-occupied with gravelling the vege garden paths, and finally the job is about done.  It all looks grey and dull, and I much prefer the organic look of the wood chip paths. Hopefully it'll look better with a bit of spring growth.  The truck that delivered the pea metal got bogged down in the paddock next to the orchard. The driver had to drop the load and then dig his truck out.  He got out ok, but munted the paddock on his way, and worse, left us with a giant pile of pea metal miles away from the vege garden.  It took some significant boy bribery to eventually get it all painstakingly moved, wheelbarrow by wheelbarrow.  There’s just the gap between Madame Cholet and the Gin Palace left to fill, and some extra gravel layers in parts of the horse arena wouldn’t go amiss.  We’ll get the pea metal by the ute load next time though.
The new pond is bedding in, though its surface is coated in a seasonal layer of yellow pollen. The cider bisque tree is still in winter mode, though it is sporting some fattening buds.  Some other plantings will naturalise the area a bit, but all in good time. 


Karyn managed to wriggle out of the gravel-shifting, but I did put her to work transplanting seedlings from my indoor heated mini greenhouse into seed trays in the tunnel house.  So far only spinach, kale, lettuce and cabbage, but I’ve re-planted the mini greenhouse with some cucumber, tomatoes, peppers and beetroot.  In a couple of weeks it should be warm enough to sow heaps more seeds in Madame Cholet. 



The spring temperatures have caused an explosion of blossom.  The stone fruit is flowering away, as is the rosemary in the herb garden, very much enjoyed by bumbles.  The Rhodies are beginning to bloom too, and so are these pretty little primroses and hellebores. Up the driveway there are several flowering camellias, and around in the valley there’s a blast of yellow from the broom and gorse - all good news for my honey bees.






The chooks are still happily free-ranging and laying around 3 eggs a day.  Now that the graveling is done, the next urgent priority for attention is the flower garden.  The photo is a ‘before’ shot, that should shock me into a bit of tidying-up action (I hope).  The chooks particularly enjoy scratching around in it, so it’s sure gonna feel mean to confine them to their run.  They’re doing their best to behave.  They’ve made no attempt to infiltrate the vege garden, and haven’t been destructive elsewhere.  They do have a tendency to crap in the car port when it’s raining, but I guess you can’t really blame them for that.  Cornelius tends his harem flock lovingly and is a real softie (unlike some of the aggressive Bobs we’ve had in the past).




Veges are still feeding us, and now we have the added special pleasure of Brussels Sprouts.  It’s the first time I’ve grown them successfully out of Yorkshire, so I’m feeling quite triumphant.  Shame that no-one else shares my excitement, but probably they’re only pretending to despise sprouts.  I mean – what’s not to like about sprouts?




Our Japanese visitor was the lovely Taisei, and he stayed for a very enjoyable week while he attended an English language programme with fellow pupils at Marlborough Boys College.  He and Billy went skiing at Rainbow, and did some indoor bowling, as well as home-stuff.  Taisei proudly led the rousing haka at the Sayonara party on their last night here, and even got his photo in the local paper at a school activity.  He gave us some intriguing gifts, including chopsticks, a spinning top, origami and weird facemasks, plus some lovely memories.


The sheep are still mooching around, as are the cows.  We’re observing them for signs of pregnancy (ewes) and heat (cows) in the sincere hope that there will eventually be bouncing bundles of joyful offspring.  We’re holding out for chicks too, since the hens are back on the lay.  For now it’s relatively quiet on the old life-style block, unless your super-sonic hearing can tune into the stealthy advance of the thistles that are just starting to pop up their ugly heads.  The clocks change this weekend, then it’ll really feel like spring.

Thursday, 25 August 2016

August 2016


We seem to be emerging from a cold southerly blast that has lasted a good couple of weeks, into a string of cloudy, wet days.  After last summer’s drought, the rain is still kinda welcome.  The woodstove has been glorious at keeping us warm and heating bath water.  The chill has only really affected evening and night time temperatures, as daytime usually reaches between 12-16 degrees.  Once the frost has cleared, some days have been positively balmy.
 


Spring is beckoning and crop preparations are underway.  Well, the potatoes are chitting at least, and the ordered seeds have arrived.  Seed planting will begin in earnest in the next couple of weeks – with all that tantalising promise of bountiful produce.  There's no sign of animal bounty in the form of lambs (darn), but fruit buds are getting bigger and weeds are just starting to make their mark in the keyhole beds.  It’s like the calm before the storm.




The paths in the vegetable garden are gradually being re-covered with weed-mat, though nothing like as quickly as I’d hoped.  It’s a monumental task that I’m looking forward to completing so I can get on with other garden stuff.  I’m aware that my standards are slipping the longer the job takes, so here’s hoping I don’t stuff up too badly.  Roll on the gravel stage.
The new pond behind the pump shed is filled and work has begun on its rocky surrounds.  We’ve liberated some rocks from the garden (the lawn will have to be extended to fill the gap they’ve left) and they’re now around the pond.  There are plenty more to move, so it should take shape further.  Eventually gravel will extend from the paths to meet the rocks.  It’ll need a bit more titivating in terms of planting, but so far so good.

In the meantime the vege garden remains productive, though probably not for too much longer.  We’re out of potatoes, but carrots are still go, as are baby leeks, cavalo nero, kale, beetroot and (my favourite) purple sprouting.  Fruit supplies for smoothies are still ongoing too - currants, gooseberries, plums, peaches and rhubarb - though these are frozen, not fresh.  I’m sure there’s more in the hairy depths of the freezer.  They’ll be like buried treasure when they’re eventually discovered.  



The chooks spent a few days confined to barracks after breaching the vege garden boundary, and have not attempted to re-enter since they were re-released.  Not that we’ve seen anyway.  They are laying again (we’re getting around 3 fabulous, huge eggs a day) so they’ve been cut a bit of slack.  I’d like to lay down some straw in the flower beds, but that will have to wait until they have to be contained again i.e. when vege seedlings are eventually planted out, or if they misbehave otherwise.



Karyn has finally come and pruned the roses.  I get very impatient with them, looking all ugly and straggly, and for months she insists it’s too soon, and in any case I’m not allowed anywhere near them with a sharp implement.  To be fair she’s not the only person to have expressed reservations about me and sharp things.  I gave her fair and due warning that I’d had enough and was about to take the chain saw to them.  That did the trick, and now they’re beautifully pruned and ready for bud burst.  As per her specific instructions I have scattered horse poo around them, though it goes against the grain to waste perfectly good manure on roses rather than edible crops. 


The bees seem to be enjoying the mild daytime temperatures.  They’re buzzing around in their hundreds so are visible as well as audible.  Honey supplies are lasting out.  They make fantastic gift currency.  I either give them away or trade them for whatever else people have.  So far that’s meant hazelnuts and a hazelnut tree, a jar of award-winning zucchini chutney (from ‘Chuntey’ queen Tanya) and some fish.  Much better than money.



The pizza oven is still in use, mainly for roast dinners.  Amazing that something we constructed has lasted so long and works so well.  The sparrows do like to warm their toes on the outside. So much for thinking it was well-insulated.  Maybe another outer layer with cow poo is in order.  Our supplies of fire-wood have increased thanks to Jill and George.  They’ve been coming round and chopping up trees, and sharing the bounty with us.  They were even able to borrow a wood-splitter and have worked through all the bigger logs turning them into wood-stove and pizza-oven sized chunks.  That would have taken Peter days of axe-work, so is a massively welcome gesture. 

Hot on the heels of my nearly award-winning honey (technically it didn’t win the public vote, but it was the judge’s choice, and that’s plenty good enough for me), I’ve had international success with my first cider.  Ok, another exaggeration, but it did win the 2016 Onamalutu Best Cider prize.  Some of our neighbours organised a social event for the valley residents, which cleverly centred on a beer and cider competition.  My cider was made from Foxwood Broxwelp apples, using a kitchen blender and wild yeasts.  My dad’s family originates from Somerset - where the cider apples grow - so maybe some of my luck was spirited down from my ancestors.  The prize was a beautiful wooden bottle, turned on a lathe, and a voucher for the local brewing shop. 


The voucher bought a dozen solid dark glass bottles with clip tops, which are perfect for the kombucha and water kefir drinks that have been fermenting away in the kitchen.  I prefer the taste of the kombucha, but the water kefir is rampant, needing attention every 2 days.  It's currently getting a rest in the fridge.  It's great to have these drink options available, and no doubt they'll be even more refreshing in the summer.  They're good for my liver too, if only because of being an alcohol-alternative!





Peter has been playing with his new tool toy – a glass bottle cutter.  It was a birthday present from Marcus and Nikki, and should mean that we don’t ever have to buy glasses again.  For a family who smashes glass on a frequent basis, that’s perfect.  He’s even having a go at a spot of engraving.




Sam's 19th birthday has been and gone, and so has his wine-making course.  New plans are afoot for him.  Billy’s doing his prelim exams and has chosen his subjects for next year, though still has no idea what he’d like to do in the future.  We’re expecting another Japanese visitor next week, a school boy from Jissen Gakuen, where Mikiru and Kakeru came from last year.  He’ll stay for a week, and hopefully the snow will last out on Rainbow so that we can take him sledging. 




Welcome spring and the many contented solitary hours working on the land that lie ahead.  I definitely enjoy the almost meditative element to gardening, getting totally absorbed in whatever it is I'm doing.  Ernest Hemingway (A Moveable Feast) has the best words:


‘When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest. The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself”