April 2020

This is my 'return-to-haven' view of our home that is always such a sight for sore eyes after returning from a shift - especially welcoming in these Covid-times.  It's been an unusual month for everyone, but hope is at last on the global horizon, even if we're not that close yet.  Mount Riley stands proud in the background, as if it's reminding us that the world keeps turning even if its human occupants are in a kind of parallel universe.  NZ will move from level 4 lockdown to level 3 on 28th April, and will stay there for at least 2 weeks.  At work it probably won't look much different from level 4, but final decisions have yet to be made.  In maternity one of the single biggest concerns is visitor restriction.  Many women are simply going home within hours of birthing, and most seem to be hanging onto their babies and just staying pregnant. 

Meanwhile life on the farmlet has kept us happily occupied.  Peter's extra time off work has allowed him to tackle tasks that had been quite a long way down the priority list.  Him and Billy have collected vast volumes of acorns for the grateful pigs, and made significant progress on the wetland crack-willow.  They've discovered previously hidden plants, like these gorgeous reeds.  Once the plant nurseries are open for business, we'll get a few more native plants/trees and try to get them established before the dastardly willow takes over again.  If only we could train the wild rabbits to eat the willow.  The enormous rabbit-hole entrance in the picture leads into the wetland, so they do have easy access.   

The orchard is nearly finished with its autumn bounty.  The apples, pears and quince are all done, just the medlars and persimmons left to ripen.  The sheep have been moved back in to clear the weedy grass.  It doesn't look too wild in there though, and that's not really down to our tender loving care.  We have mowed and tidied up in there occasionally, but finally we are reaping the benefits of tree maturity.  Just some organic matter around the treelines (probably horse poo) and a decent Derryn-prune should be enough to winter it down.  

The monumental challenge of tidying up the Gin Palace has finally happened, and this has contributed to the vaguely organised feel of the vege garden.  The green manure in the vege gardens is coming away beautifully, and not too patchy either, except for where the carrots, beetroot and purple-sprouting are still cropping. There is a bit of weeding to be done in the blueberry and peachcot beds and some pathway weeding (or organic weed spraying), but otherwise it's actually looking quite tidy out there. The half-barrels are decaying fast now, and will be replaced by some bought corrugated iron raised beds.  The plan is to transfer the peppermint, spearmint and lemon balm from the horse arena, and transplant the existing nettles and common mint into them.  These are all delightful and delicious herbs, but invasive and in need of better management than they've been used to.  

The soil for the new beds will come from the original pallet compost heaps, that have decayed beyond the point of functionality.  They were the first garden structure to be built, so they absolutely don't owe us anything.  The compost has been dug out onto some old tarps, and some of it painstakingly sieved to use in next year's seedling compost.  The seiving process is not for the faint-hearted - hard on the back and shoulders, and absolutely not to be attempted in the absence of a seriously robust bra!  Peter has retrieved some big, solid plastic pallets from the haybarn that will make the base, and the final result will have to wait until next month's blog.      

The horse arena beds have even received attention. They were quite low on the list, but despite working extra hours I seem to have more spare time on my hands than usual at this time of year.  Maybe that's related to less socialising, and more making-the-most of Billy's willingness and energy.  Also cheating with the biggest task has hugely reduced the workload.  Cheating in the form of commercial weedspray.  Eeeek.  I chopped down and then weedsprayed the peppermint, spearmint and lemon balm beds.  These would have been impossible to eradicate by manual weeding, and were duly sprayed one evening by the light of the moon.  I'm keeping my fingers crossed that one dose will do the trick, and am distracting myself from the chemical horror by the prospect of setting up some proper irrigation and planting some experimental beds of grains there next year.  Before spraying I dug out several plants from each bed and re-planted them in large pots.  They can eventually transfer to the new raised iron beds.

The flower and herb gardens around the house are now all cleared and pea-strawed, and the outdoor colours are now less flowery and more autumnal.  It's been a stunning autumn - mostly blue-sky days and chilly nights, but with occasional rain to nourish the land.  The tulip tree has nearly shed its stunning huge leaves, and most other deciduous plants are in the process.  As always, the mornings are particularly ethereal, as the sunlight begins to penetrate through the early mist.  It's so good to be home on these days.

The native bed at the side of the house is also blanketed in peastraw, and the plants, including the glorious horopito in the photo, are looking great.  Billy constructed the new pathway edging from rocks on the driveway after I'd cleared away the scruffy old woven low fence.  It's been great to finally get round to these kind of little jobs.

The woodlot has 10 more trees - 4 peachcots, 5 oaks and a carob - all grown from seed.  Some have been planted in new spots, and the rest have replaced those that were lost, like the eucalypts.  There are some delightful honey-traded pinenut tree seedlings (thanks Jenn) that can go in next year when they're bigger.  We've also planted heaps of acorns, including the competition acorns.  Peter, Billy and me have 6 acorns each in a planter on the deck, all lovingly selected from our acorn hauls.  We put them in the freezer for a few days in an attempt to simulate winter - time will tell if this actually makes a difference.

The autumn harvest is being processed, and this is a very enjoyable time-waster.  We gave Billy the task of gathering the sweet chestnuts, and wish we had a sound recording of the shrieks that came when he shook the tree to get the prickly-shelled nuts down.  To his credit he completed the job, and we got a gorgeous crop of our own chestnuts for the first time.  I'd originally planted 2 chestnut trees that were pollinators for each other, but one died.  I've been wondering if that would mean no nuts from the remaining tree, but it doesn't seem to be the case.  There were lots of small, flat nuts within the shells, but still plenty of full-sized, juicy nuts among them.  Perhaps a pollinator would improve this quantity, but no real need to pump up the volume for our (my) needs.  

Whilst he was hacking back some of the forestry broom, Peter brought back some wild rosehips.  I found a UK website called 'eatweeds' that showed how to avoid the long drawn-out method of cutting them in half to scrape out the itchy hairs.  They were topped and tailed and dehydrated whole, and then blitzed just enough in a food processor to break open the hard hips.  Seiving out the pesky hairs was easy, leaving the hip shells and seeds good-to-go.  A very satisfying process and a decent batch of rosehip tea.

The young Granny Smith apple tree by the sleepout seems to have recovered from being blown over by the wind, and has produced a good crop.  These apples are so tangy and delicious when dried, they don't last long.  Two dozen apples pretty much disappeared in a puff, eh Billy?  The fig tree has also recovered from being blown over, twice, and produced a bumper crop.  This year I've had a bash at drying them too.  They were cut in half and it took hours of dehydration.  They don't look or taste like the juicy whole figs you can buy, but they are still perfectly snackable.

The 6kg of elderberries that were in the freezer has been magically made into wine.  The fruit spent 2 weeks in a barrel, bubbling away vigorously (not unlike an old man farting) and has now been strained into a large demi-john.  It already tastes pretty darn good already, so here's hoping that it makes a tipple akin to the famous and fabulous 2018 vintage.  I've bottled the remaining pear wine but this is disappointing.  I should have bottled it all ages ago. The quality is diminished to the extent that some is now pear wine vinegar.  I'll bottle the feijoa wine today, in the hope that it hasn't undergone a similar fate.  I've spotted a recipe for beetroot wine that I can't ignore, and will also make more mead out of this year's honey.  These will have to wait until retail re-opens as we're out of wine yeast. 

Damson gin is steeping away, hidden at the back of the pantry.  When I can get some gin, I'm going to have a bash at Feijoa Gin - in the interests of experimentation, obviously.  The delightfully-named 'Feijoacello' recipe that I found uses 4 cups of sugar in 700 mls of gin.  I'll be using considerably less sugar, but I'm cautiously optimistic that the end result will be fantastic.  Maybe it'd work with vodka too...  

The Aztec corn was harvested and is definitely a must-grow crop of the future.  Those cobs are absolutely stunning - multi-coloured rows of shiny pearly grains.  The husks have been pulled back and used to hang the cobs to dry.  I've tried my darnedest to get my head around the bewildering difference between cornflour, corn flour, corn meal, grits and polenta. I'm thinking I'll just dry and grind them and then decide what to call it.  Hopefully I won't actually need a grain mill to do the grinding, that some other kitchen implement might work.  Otherwise I'll try and beg, steal or borrow a device to do the job.  Spending hundreds of dollars on a grain mill for two dozen ears of corn is probably not cost-effective, though maybe it's a future investment...  

The new loves of my life - gourds - are now suspended in various ways for their 6-month drying time.  I've been drooling over the images of gourd craft on the internet, inspired by the possiblity of creating of numerous bird houses, lamp shades and bowls.  Decorative pyrography is a new concept that I'm drawn to, though in the interests of safety, I should probably leave that to Peter's creative talents.  He's having a play with last year's (what I now know as) pathetically tiny gourds, using his Dremel and acrylic paints.   

The driveway is still awaiting its evolution into an attractive welcoming zone.  When our neighbour Craig is released from lockdown and has time on his hands, he'll come over to help dig out the old hedging and dead tree stumps.  He can access a small digger that should lighten the load.  There's no real hurry though, and it'll probably be easier as a winter job.  We'll have to find a new zone for the mushrooms when it's done - they've been happily thriving in that damp, dark corner of the property that we'll eventually open out. 

Karyn's dedication to the roses has been severly tried these last few weeks.  The threat of chainsaw pruning action even made her consider breaking lockdown to prevent that potential catastrophe.  She allowed me to do some cutting back of the longest, drapiest branches of the red rose bush/weed so that the peastraw could go down, but otherwise she'll deal with them whenever she can legitimately get out here.  Her absence means no photos, and I'm aware that this leaves an arse-sized gap in this blog.  Looking forward to having you back in the garden Karyn!

Lots of outdoors time clearly results in a monster blog.  Sorry about that.  I'll sign off finally and get back out there - might as well get my garden therapy and 'make hay' while the autumn sun shines.  I'm optimistic that New Zealand will be a better Covid-19 place by the end of next month, and hopeful that's the case for the rest of the world too.  Best Autumn wishes in the meantime!

March 2020

The month that the world changed.
New Zealand, like many other countries, announced our lockdown on Wednesday 25th March.  Level 4 on the Covid-19 Alert scale was commenced.  We had had advance warning - from China, South Korea and Italy, and more recently Spain, the UK and the USA, all horrifyingly highlighting the potential devastation that could also lie ahead for this tiny country.  Our case numbers have dramatically increased since Covid arrived here.  The local hospital has been in lockdown and is rapidly putting plans and structures into place.  Any patient who tests or screens positive and needs care will follow the 'red' pathway', and those who are negative follow 'green'.  We have yet to have a maternity 'red' case, but I'm anticipating that this is only a matter of a short time.  Personal Protective Equipment training has been rolled out, and no hospital visiting is allowed.  

Many aspects of care that we hold dear as midwives will be abandoned.  There will be no touching of course.  Women will only be able to remain in hospital after birthing if they require medical care.  'Red' women will be denied a support person in labour (more than one person with a viral load in any of our birthing rooms will overcome the PPE and put attending staff at risk).  'Red' women will also be encouraged to have epidurals to protect the health of theatre staff, particularly anaesthetists because if they require surgical interventions this can be done more safely under epidural than risky intubation and GA.  'Green' women are unlikely to get epidurals if they want them because the anaesthetic staff will have other priorities.  The use of donor breastmilk has been stopped and breastfeeding support will be hands-off.  Antenatal and postnatal appointments will be prioritised and reduced and must be limited to 15 minutes of contact time plus phone support.

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed, not so much by the prospect of contracting Covid-19, but by the volume of work that will ensue as more staff are either sick or required to self-isolate.  We were already chronically understaffed.  I'm reading all those Facebook posts about the boredom and frustrations of home isolation with some amusement, and maybe a little jealousy.  But at least I won't be out of work.  Once our German self-isolating guests have completed their 14 days and move out, I will turn the sleepout into my de-contamination zone.  Somewhere I can change, shower and immediately wash my work clothing before coming into the house.  If things do spiral, then maybe I'll have to move in there altogether for a while.



On the other hand, I'm even more grateful that we have our little bubble of relative self-sufficiency and plenty of places to go and jobs to do that provide a distraction, and in the case of gardening - therapy.  I'd managed to get a load of pea straw bales before lockdown.  Once I've cleared the flower garden, these will be used as mulch.  I also managed to source plenty of green manure seeds.  Hopefully not too late for that.  Some colder nights are starting to kick in and those seeds will require warmth to germinate.  Today I finished clearing all but one of the vege beds and planted the green manure.  I'd mixed the seeds with some garden compost and lots of blood and bone - that should repel the rabbits for a while.  And happily it's now raining.  Only light rain but it's perfect timing for the seeds and very welcome for everything else.


The woodlot is next up for a bit of attention.  There are 6 mini oaks and 4 peachcot seedlings that can go out and put down their roots over autumn.  Some weeding and preparation of new planting holes are needed, but that should be a relatively pleasant task for this number of trees.  I've also taken redcurrant and tea cuttings (to replace one dead Camellia Sinensis and expand the tea plantation generally).   

The Aztec corn has been taken down and the cobs are drying on the outside table under shelter.  They are quite small cobs and I'm not sure if that's how they're supposed to be or if they suffered from the drought.  The corn itself is a multitude of colours.  I'm looking forward to doing something with them, ideally making some polenta.  

Also cropping now are multicoloured carrots, beetroot and purple sprouting broccoli.  On the fruit front, the peaches are stunning, though low volume.  The figs are just starting to ripen and look to be a pretty impressive crop this year.  In Madame Cholet, the peppers and chillis are amazing, and I'll be digging up the ginger and turmeric sometime soon (need to look up when that should happen).  Peter's chilli plant, the Carolina Reaper, is producing several fruits, that are just starting to colour up.

Molly left for Christchurch straight after the level 4 announcement.  She moved into their army house on the Burnham campus.  She had to quit work to do this, but only really a few weeks before she'd planned to anyway.  Peter and I had already seen the house when we were in Christchurch for the Dramfest - a very enjoyable experience that we'll definitely repeat.  So Sam and Molly are setting up home together at a very bizarre moment in time.  We've temporarily inherited her strawberry planter to take care of until she can be reunited with it.

Karyn's garden will need some work now that she can't come here to do it herself.  I may drop off a few of her carrots from time to time, but only if she's very nice to me from a distance.  It's an irony that she's actually grown some carrots that look like real carrots, and she'll have to rely on me to get them to her.  Moo haha...



The resounding garden success of the month has to be the gourds, that I accidentally grew.  They weren't staked and instead spread all over the gravel path, hiding their precious and magnificent treasure.  They mingled with the pumpkin (big yellow and butternut) and cucumber foliage, until a gentle frost zapped them a bit.  ī'll hang them inside to dry this time, and am awaiting a plan to form in my mind about just exactly what I'll do with them, other than admire their voluptuousness.  

The oak trees on our dog walk route are all fruiting and we've started to gather the beautiful acorns to feed to our grateful pigs.  They are, of course, eating us out of house and home, and any extra rations are consumed immediately.  We won't be able to turn them into bacon for a while as the home kill service is not deemed essential, so will have to continue to be creative about their food.  We can still buy pig nuts and peas, but that's expensive.  It's good to find alternatives.




I've now done the first 2 hypnotherapy modules, but may not be able to do any more for a while.  It's a shame because it's ridiculously interesting stuff, though I can do plenty of reading around.  Just a case of finding time to do that, and also finding the headspace to focus.  My mental well being is definitely improved by working in the garden, and probably I need to resign myself to that being a priority beyond work.  For now at least.  Our current good health, as well as life circumstances and opportunities, is definitely something to be grateful for.  We have many blessings to count.

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.

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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!