Townie on a NZ smallholding

Townie on a NZ smallholding

Monday, 21 May 2018

May 2018



Gorgeous autumn - the vibrant colours of this copper beech aren't really captured in their entirety in this photo.  That's a shame because the tree is such a joy at this time of year.  The photo was taken a few days ago, and it has already has lost many more leaves whilst I've been waiting for a perfect deep blue sky backdrop.  This tree sits quite close to the tulip tree, but here's hoping it won't be overcome by it one day.  We haven't had any more frosty mornings since the April spell, though we have had quite a bit of welcome rain.



The grape vines have put on a spectacular performance.  They fruited well this year, as the birds will attest to.  The newest vines - Thompsons Seedless - were too young to fruit, but hopefully will redress that next year.  Maybe we'll apply a bit more of the grey matter when we net them too.  Peter's pruned them all and now they're looking sparse, though tidy.  Their leaves have been swept up and added as organic matter to the vege beds and the compost pile.



Another huge batch of carrots has been dug up, cleaned, chopped, blanched and finally frozen.  There's still another large zone in the garden, and a smaller area of leeks, that may have to be given away.  I'm a bit over processing carrots and leeks, though it's very handy to have meal-sized portions ready in the freezer.


I was going to tidy the kitchen before taking this photo but decided that it does represent a smallholders autumn kitchen.  At least it's typical of mine at this time of year.  It's one of those photos that I hope I'll look back on with rose-coloured spectacles when I'm 96.



There were 5 persimmons after all - each one perfect and perfectly delicious.  Let's hope for a much bigger crop next year.  The feijoas have been and are nearly gone, and some have been consumed in morning smoothies.  The rest have been used to make feijoa wine (double batch) and feijoa vodka.  The feijoa flesh was made into wine, and the skins are steeping in vodka.  What a lovely way to make use of feijoas.  I ran out of suitable containers, hence the yoghurt pot.  

The damson gins and vodkas have been strained and the alcohol-soaked damsons have been added to the 2nd ongoing batch of cider (made from Granny Smith's apples).  When you do this with sloes, the resulting drink is called 'slider'.  I'm not aware of an official name for the damson version of the concoction.  Maybe damcider?  As someone prone to not labelling things very well (surely they'll declare themselves?), it was a bit of a challenge to identify what was damson gin and what was damson vodka.  Suffice to say it took several samplings to reach a consensus.  On balance, the damson gin was superior, but balance probably wasn't too prevalent at the time.  

The vegetable gardens have been receiving their customary weeding / horse poo / hedge trimmings / leaf litter / compost attention, and I'm proud to report that this monumental task is nearly done.  One main bed remaining, and a few bits of titivation required to settle everything down for winter.  The keyhole bed in the photo is a 'before' shot.  Today it's been totally cleared and is slumbering under a thick layer of pea straw.  Several previously obscured garlic plants revealed themselves during the weeding process - they've been left in position and I may add a few more garlic bulbs in the next few weeks.  I'd pretty much decided not to grow any vege crops over winter this year, but I'm already changing my mind.  If there's garlic anyway, perhaps I could also add some spinach and brassicas?  Maybe some beetroot.  The horse arena beds are the next major task in hand.  Weeding them will be a similarly major task.  Then it'll be the flower beds and the herb garden.  Then sorting out Lazy Mazy.  And then it'll be spring again.  I'm thinking that maybe I'll look into growing more edible flowers this year...

There are lavender hedges around 2 of the keyhole beds.  They haven't worked well as a low hedge - mainly because they really don't want to be low hedge plants.  Also, one was planted next to the main beehive, as a potential source of nutrition for the honey bees.  Instead, they provide an excellent habitat for the wool carder bees that terrorise the honey bees.  Last year I bought 3 silver box plants and have just taken 120 cuttings in the hope that these can eventually replace the lavender hedges.  The rosemary hedge has worked ok, assuming that it responds to a decent haircut (perhaps I'll get Karyn onto that).  Some of its sturdy stems would make great skewers.


The medlar crop has been fabulous this year.  Our neighbour Shona came round and helped pick them - thank you Shona!  The photo shows around a third of the total crop.  I've been looking into recipes and think I'll probably aim to do a medlar jelly.  This is the simplest of processes and just involves boiling the medlars for an hour then straining.  If I can be bothered, I'll sieve the pulp and make a medlar chutney.  They are very tasty eaten raw, although it's impossible to eat them in any kind of sophisticated way.  Lucky I'm not renowned for sophistication and have very few qualms about devouring them and spitting out the stones.  


I'm intrigued by the mushrooms that are growing around the base of the gingko tree.  If I remember correctly, they've always been there on that patch of ground.  Must try and find out a bit more about them.  Happily, they don't seem to be affecting the health and growth of the tree, which is showing off its buttery autumn leaves.  






The bees have been wintered down.  The split I took a couple of months ago is still looking healthy, though the only brood is drone.  There are a couple of empty supersedure queen cells, so hopefully, the bees are sorting out a new queen.  They've been gathering plenty of pollen and honey supplies, so I'll leave them to get on with it.  The queen bitch hive is as objectionable as ever but has limited brood.  Perhaps they'll evict the old queen sometime soon and replace her with a good-natured version. Failing that, I'll have to attempt to do the deed myself if I'm brave enough.  I had to garden with my mesh head cover for a couple of days after disturbing that hive.  These kamikaze bees don't just give you a friendly warning.  I recently received notification that AFB has been found within 3 kms so I'll have to disease-check more frequently.  It's a worry, but I usually do check for disease whenever I open the hives.


My remaining trips to the West Coast are over and done with.  I did take the opportunity to visit awesome Granity beach again and collect rocks to take home.  Karyn has already requisitioned several to boost up the internal edging of her keyhole bed.  I'd planned to add them to the base of the grape vines, but I think I'll use the rest as plant labels.  It'll take a bit of paint and some creativity but should make enduring IDs to help those who don't know their carrots from their cucumbers.  I've been asked to show the garden as part of the Wairau Valley garden tour in spring.  As there'll be relatively little on display in mid-October, I'm trying to think out of the box to find ways of making the garden more endearing.  

We've had no May guests in the sleep out and no bookings.  It's to be expected and quite a relief to be spared the extra housework.  We plan to add a better window to Sam's old bedroom - a compartmentalised zone in the garage that connects to the bathroom.  Then we'll be able to accommodate up to 5 guests at a time.  In the meantime, we're seriously enjoying a mortgage-free and child-free life.  So much easier than any alternative.  

  





Tuesday, 24 April 2018

April 2018



The first frost of the year on April 12th was quite a rude end to summer.  Hermes and the other cows didn't seem too impressed.  Luckily the frost cloths were in place over the citrus and tea plantation, and they seem to be hanging in there nicely.  The tender growth on the grape vines twinkled delightfully in the morning sun, as did the pumpkins and zucchini, even though they subsequently turned up their toes.

Once the pumpkin plants succumbed to the frost and keeled over, it was easy to spot the 17 pumpkins that were strewn around the vege garden.  Given that I didn't plant or pay any attention whatsoever to the plants, that's a pretty cool deal.  Self-sown, self-nourished pumpkins for free - how lucky is that?  Probably I won't manage to eat all 17 on my own, even if they last several months.  They'll make great gifts for the clever pumpkin-lovers of the region. 


I'd forgotten about the humble fig when I was working out what fruit remained last month.  That poor old beleaguered fig tree has managed to crop despite its tragic past.  Transplanted and then blown down in a storm, it's a real stalwart.  The figs aren't as big as I hope they'll be one day, but delicious nonetheless. They should dehydrate well - that can go into next year's plan.

I finally got round to planting out the gifted new cider (Slack ma Girdle) and perry pear trees in the orchard.  The pear went into the gap vacated by a very young Granny Smith tree that was destroyed by the sheep.  Both trees have been staked and protected by a triangle of pallets, and lovingly and tenderly encouraged to grow strong and prosper.  Close by, the young persimmon tree has managed to crop this year.  4 fruit is probably not a bad first attempt.  It's a very attractive tree, so can have its place in the orchard whatever it produces, but let's hope next year will bring many more delicious orange persimmons.

The quince is a glorious tree that crops religiously and abundantly every year.  It's a shame that I really only need about 6 fruit a year, and even that's an exagerated take on the term 'need'.  At least our neighbour's pigs have benefitted.  I couldn't bring myself to make quince jam/jelly/compote/paste that would sit looking pretty in the pantry.  Quince wine was an option, but I've set my heart on feijoa wine this year.  It would have been a crime to have not made anything from them though.  Yep you guessed, another 2 litres of quince vodka is happily steeping away.

There are ridiculous numbers of carrots and leeks.  Zillions were planted in the hope of dehydrating them to sell as soup packs along with the onions, beans, corn and zucchini.  That plan is stalled indefinitely, leaving us with the problem of what to do with this abundance of beautiful, organic veges.  The leeks do need fairly urgent attention as they're just starting to bolt.  Hopefully, the carrots will store well enough in the ground.  I'd like to close down the vege garden beds over winter though, so have made a start on picking, prepping, blanching and freezing them.  I fear it will be a long drawn out affair, but check out the size of those carrots (eh Karyn!).

The ginger in Madame Cholet is looking green and lush, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed it'll not be a disappointment when it's dug up.  It's not showing any sign yet of dying back, so all the more time to fatten up its roots.  We've had lots of sunny, warm days, but those colder nights will inevitably chill the tunnel house in time.  Madame Cholet's beds are all weeded, covered with generous amounts of horse poo and compost, and topped with a thick layer of pea straw.  There is a 2nd half barrel in there that next year will accommodate turmeric.  Peter had been using it as a fish-holding tank but has decided he can do without it.



Work has begun on wintering down the vege beds, and a couple are even are fully weeded.  Even Karyn's bed isn't as much of an eyesore (!).  I've heaped a number of bags of horse manure on the cleared beds.  They were bought at huge cost ($2 each) from the 'Riding for the Disabled' place that's just across the road from the hospital.  Grass cuttings and clippings from the low circular hedges are getting chucked on too - all good organic material.  Last year's compost heap has created plenty of crumbly compost that's also been applied.  Those old compost heaps need to be cleared to make space for the next round of weeding in spring.  It's a great feeling to be closing the recycling loop with homemade compost - very permaculture.  All we need now is some humanure!  Mental note to put 'building a composting toilet' on the to-do list.


I've spent some time working on the magical West Coast and this rainbow over the Orowaiti River greeted me as I arrived Westport.  Unfortunately, it was mostly too busy to get out and absorb the energy.  I'll be back a couple more times over the next few weeks and hope to correct this.  I did manage a day-time trip to Greymouth - the photo shows the sun setting on the Tasman sea just south of Punakaiki. 
All the boys converged here over Easter.  Lucas came for several days, Billy was off for a few days, and Sam was here for about 24 hours.  It still feels a bit weird (and more than a bit lovely) to look across the table at grown-up sons, rather than kids.  But it is liberating to be released from the 23-year tie of day-to-day childcare.  Amazingly we paid our mortgage off on April 17th.  We'll need the extra money we'll save as this year will also see Billy's 18th, Sam's 21st, Peter's 60th and our silver wedding anniversary.  Quite a count - some celebrations on the horizon.  In the meantime, we'll keep on enjoying autumn. 




Friday, 23 March 2018

March 2018


Days are drawing in and the clocks will go back next weekend (Easter).  Occasionally I feel slightly panicked that there is so much weeding/tidying to be done, but solace can be taken from the realisation that growth will slow.  And surely weeds can't get much worse.  Can they?  Without evening garden pottering time, I'll have to step up in the day more, and stop using crappy excuses like 'it's raining' (I'm from Yorkshire for goodnesses sake) and 'housework is a priority' (yeah right). 


Thanks to Karyn and one fine afternoon, the flower garden got pretty much weeded and is awaiting some horse poo and pea straw mulch or whatever else that can be found.  There are still some gorgeous flowers, including colourful dahlias (Christmas present from Lucas) and these white delphiniums that have popped up.  I remember planting them, but it might have been a year or two ago, or more.  The Lemonwood hedge (Pittosporum Eugenioides - Tarata) is finally starting to look like a hedge and some of the plants will need a bit of trimming down to keep it in shape. 

Autumn colour is just starting to add to the outdoor palette.  The tulip tree is beginning to turn yellow and autumn leaves are noticeably falling all around.  The pinky crimson foliage of the bergamot is simply beautiful.  The self-seeded pumpkins that are taking over the garden may have peaked too late.  There are pumpkins among the reckless foliage so fingers crossed they'll have enough warm weather time left to properly mature.  The one on the compost heap is particularly spectacular.  Is there such a thing as 'Compost Heap Sculpture'? Every day new growth, now extending into the hay shelter and the currant bushes.

The orchard is starting to look bare and will need a serious prune soon.  There are 2 outstanding crops remaining there.  Medlars are prolific and large, and some inspiration is needed for them to be turned into something delectable.  Working out how to 'blet' them and when they're ready for culinary purposes seems tricky as most of the suggestions relate to northern hemisphere conditions.  The quince tree is having its usual bumper crop - here's hoping the neighbour's pigs like them as we'll probably only consume and give away a fraction of the harvest.



The peaches are all picked, including these wonderful black boys - the tree was a gift from some students so is very dear to me. The pears were few in number (definitely one of this year's flop crops) and the apples are now done.  The giant 'peasgood nonsuch' apples have been great for showing off -  Peter definitely won in the apple-envy stakes at work.  A few raspberries made a brief and very delicious reappearance.  I only looked for them because Karyn was picking bowls full of autumn raspberries at her place, from plants that she'd rescued from my compost heap.  There is a small olive crop too, probably not worth picking but exciting to imagine what it could be in the coming years.  Not all of the olive trees have fruit, and those that do aren't necessarily the biggest or the same of the 3 varietals.  To be honest, I'm a bit over massive quantities of fruit and am hoping for a breather before the feijoas come on tap.


A final batch of chillies and basil have been put through Solly the dehydrator.  Some of the other herbs can also be dried on sunny days as they're no longer in flower and are looking squeakily healthy and leafy.  There are more chillies in Madame Cholet, that will be made into chilli relish.  Some very significant weeding can then be done in there before it's wintered down.  The ginger is still looking lush and healthy - here's hoping it's not disappointing when it's pulled up.
Some landscaping of the area around the sleep-out is happening.  Future guests will be able to pick their own tea and grab a grapefruit, orange, mandarin or Granny Smith apple.  That's the theory anyway.  It does assume that frost protection will be effective.  Better get on with that before the first frost catches me out.  We ordered a lorry load of gravel, mainly for the sleep-out area but also to bolster up the driveway.  That'll be a lovely weekend job eh? 


Trading for honey has brought me several mostly edible rewards over the years.  This humungous smiley-faced cabbage was no disappointment.  It's accompanied most of our dinners for at least the last week, and a big chunk is currently fermenting in its own salted juice.  It should make fabulous sauerkraut in a few days.  Thank you Kay - that's a very sound contribution to my bowel health!




The bees have featured highly in this month's activities.  The buzz weekend was ace - lots of bee talk and new ideas to bring back.  Plenty to do in the hives in terms of wintering down.  All hives are now sitting on new Hive Doctor bottom boards that should allow better ventilation.  Each brood box is insulated with 40mm polystyrene on each side and has its miticide strips in.  The main hive has been split and the new colony sits with its new queen cell atop the original - that should help keep it warm if it manages to survive.  Honey is harvested, and 8 frames have been kept aside to use for spring feeding if needed.  The evil-bitch-queen hive has been responsible for several stings during this time.  Many of these have been through my bee suit.  The volume and aggression of these bees is pretty scary, and those stings hurt.  That queen needs to go!  If I can't find her easily, then I'll keep the hive compact in spring in the hope that she swarms.  Not the best solution, but may have to be so.  To add insult to injury, there was no honey to harvest from this hive because it was robbed.  I'd disrupted the hive to replace the bottom board, position the polystyrene and miticide strips and then added the escape board above the brood, below 2 weighty honey boxes.  3 days later when I went to retrieve the honey, it was all gone.  Only empty wax cells remained with numerous dead bees on the escape board.  I'm as much amazed as I am pissed off.  How could that have happened?  The robber bees must have already been in the honey boxes when the escape board was placed.  There was no way in and only one way out: through the hive.  It must have been absolute carnage in there.  Maybe they've suffered enough and I need to cut the queen some slack...
Happily, the other hives have yielded several more litres of honey.  It's not as much as I was anticipating at the start of the season, but overall it's been a good honey year.    


As expected, there have been fewer B & B bookings in Ti Kouka Cabin this month.  Plenty enough to keep things ticking over though.  Peter lost an entire weekend finding and biffing the source of a very unpleasant smell in there and the garage.  The rodent poison that we'd put down had been effective, but some of the rats and mice didn't make their way outside.  Their rotting carcasses, peppered with maggots, were found in the ceiling and wall insulation.  It was a truly disgusting job that we hope never to repeat. Are you eating whilst reading this?? 

On the family front, Billy is still returning home on his days off.  Outward Bound has offered him the chance to go on one of their courses in June - lucky him.  Lucas is coming home for a couple of weeks and we're looking forward to spoiling him whilst fervently hoping that there is no expectation of an 'Easter Bunny' egg hunt (will they ever grow out of that?).  Sam is still gallivanting around the country in his van when he's not blowing his own trumpet.  Wine vintage is kicking off and Peter is working some long hours.  Maggie is gorgeous as ever and is loving accompanying me on morning runs.  I'm heavily occupied with autumn harvest - picking, freezing, fermenting and brewing. It comes with that lovely feeling of abundantly stocking up for the less productive days ahead.  I've worked several extra shifts but overall am still enjoying reduced working hours.  All ticking along delightfully really.  
Autumn rocks.


Wednesday, 21 February 2018

February 2018


I began writing this in the middle of ex-cyclone Gita last night.  States of Emergency had been declared in Christchurch and the West Coast, Kaikoura was flooding, and roads and schools were closed across the top of the south. We had around 150mms of rain in a few short hours.  We've never seen so much flooding on our property, and this time, the river was worryingly overflowing into the paddocks too.  You can see in the photo where the brown river water is combining with the fallen rainwater.  The brown splash in the paddock behind Madame Cholet shows the river being just contained at that point.  The rain finally eased off, but there is more forecast for tonight.  Probably not enough to cause too much harm, but on top of the existing flood water, who knows?  We took the precaution of clearing the furniture from the sleep out as much as possible, as this has flooded in the past (not since we’ve been here).  The bed was raised on blocks of wood and rocks.  Not a great moment to remember we didn't get round to insurance for the sleep out. 
We’ve been considerably luckier than many, and are keeping everything crossed that we'll have the luxury of looking back on a decent watering and a nourishing layer of silt across the paddocks, rather than storm damage. 

Meanwhile, back on the land, productivity has exceeded all expectations.  Plums are finally over, though the freezer is groaning under their weight.  Onions are harvested and plaited and should last us the year.  Some corn has been dried, and the remaining cobs need picking, shucking, blanching and freezing.  Bramley apples and Nashi pears have been processed into pies and chutney.  The piece de la resistance has got to be the tomatoes.  24 jars of tomato sauce in the freezer and a massive batch of tomato relish - already more than we'll eat.  I took 2 overflowing buckets into work and have given lots more away.  But that's probably less than a third of the total crop.  It's a truly lovely problem.  


Madame Cholet has also been hosting some action in the form of chillis.  Some of them are HUGE and they're starting to blush. Some have already made their way into the dehydrator, others into that tomato relish.  The ginger is taking off too, though I haven't bandicooted around to see how big the tubers are yet.  Abundant marrows have also featured on the top crop list this month. That's what happens when you plant about 24 zucchini plants.  Our neighbour's pigs have done well out of the excess, which is great because we'd run out of the rotten plums that they'd been rather partial to.


The crop abundance has also necessitated the brewing and general titivation of alcohol.  Damson plums were totally weighing down the branches of the little tree, and I'd already made more plum jam than you can shake a stick at.  Out came the gin, and to my utter joy, the discovery that Damson Gin, even at the very tender 3-day old stage (you should leave it 3 months before imbibing) is gob-smackingly delish.  Maybe even better than sloe gin - unbelievable.  3 litres of gin transformed and still a million damsons remaining.  What's a girl to do?  Damson Brandy and Damson Vodka, that's what.  6 litres of spirits now, and still the dilemma of what to do with the remaining damsons as I haven't managed to give them away.  Meanwhile, 15 litres of elderberry wine is bubbling (I picked a bucket of elderberries and somehow managed to get enough for 3 whole batches), as is another 15 litres of cider - Foxwood Broxwelp cider no less.  I've just strained it in my usual precarious fashion, and was quite grateful that there wasn't an earthquake at the time.  That cider could have gone a long way, and it's not that long since the ginger-beer-kitchen-redecorating-incident.


More fruit is waiting in the wings.  The peachcots are looking very promising, which is a relief because the peaches themselves are quite a flop this year.  Apples and pears are starting to ripen, and grapes too.  Peter's put bird netting around the grapes. It's very effective.  The birds can get in and eat the grapes, but we can't.  There must be a better way - I'm sure it's not meant to work like that.




It was time for sheep toenail clipping and general coiffure, so we enrolled the help of Karyn.  She flat refused any toenail involvement, so muggins here got the job.  Toenails of all types make me heave and I'm even quelling a wave of nausea thinking about it.  Anyway, the job got done and antiseptic iodine spray applied. 3 ewes needed a partial or full shear, and Karyn got stuck in.  She also took responsibility for quality control when it wasn't her turn to shear.  Yes, you know what I mean Karyn (picky picky picky).  Just be grateful I'm not publishing the cleavage shot.



Karyn's bed is also being very productive.  Though it pains me massively to admit it, her carrots are fantastic.  I'm trying to take some of the credit for that of course - my beautifully nourished soil, my watering, my shared expertise etc etc.  Hmmm.  Working on that.  She also planted these gorgeous foxgloves to brighten the plot up.




Rogue pumpkins have been popping up.  Utterly delightful.  There's one that was hiding among the tomatoes that's recently made a break for it across the path.  And another that disguised itself as a leek.  Or maybe it was trying to be lavender.  It's broken ranks now and is heading towards the raspberries.  Another has popped up in the most obvious place - the compost heap.  No idea what varieties they may be, but I am enjoying the suspense!

The bees are busy but there hasn't been another honey flow yet.  I'm hoping to do a final honey haul in the next couple of weeks.  The clover is flowering, plus a few other splashes of colour.  I still give the aggressive hive a wide berth.  I'm excited to soon be going on a 'buzz' weekend.  It's run by the Wellington bee club for non-beginner beeks who don't mind a 'no-frills' approach.  It's in the middle of what looks like a lovely forest near Palmerston North on a campsite.  I need to bring my sleeping bag for the bunk bed, and my own (named) crockery and cutlery and cash for the sausage sizzle.  Haven't done that since I were a lass (more than 10 years ago maybe).  I'm keeping an open mind about the hospitality and very much looking forward to the lectures and fieldwork.

Peter's made a new Gin Palace sign (maybe he thought he ought, given the copious quantities of gin currently in the kitchen).  The previous sign was totally obliterated by the cocktail kiwi, which has again failed to produce a crop.  Not even any flowers this year.  The new sign is bigger and further away from the rampant kiwi.




We don't tend to see possums, nor do we get much possum damage, though they are a pest around here for others.  They may have stunning fur, but they are quite freaky animals that can look really evil.  They also make a lot of noise when they are around.  They are fantastic climbers so when I heard a commotion on the roof and down the walls outside, I immediately suspected the culprit in the photo.  Maggie - brave hunter dog - took one sniff outside and then came back in to hide under the table. 


Happily the Airbnb sleepout seems to be quite popular.  We've had several guests through this month, and more bookings ongoing.  It's been quite lucrative too, though I've never done so much cleaning in my life.  It's also been lovely and soul-nourishing to hear the 'oohs and aahs' about how beautiful a place we live in.  I hadn't anticipated how rewarding it would be to share our little piece of paradise with visitors from all over the world.  It's not enough for me to give up the old day job, but I've already reduced my contracted hours and am enjoying a bit of a reprieve from full-time work.  It's perfect timing because late summer crop processing is pretty labour intensive.  Not that I'm complaining!