July 2021

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.

June 2021

It's been a very wet June, especially at weekends, and this has curtailed many outside activities.  It's raining again now, despite a more optimistic forecast.  I'm thinking it may be a day for candle-making if that sun don't shine.  There is plenty of work to do in Sam's old bedroom in the garage, but we have Airbnb guests so we can't get in there yet.  And realistically, there's no hurry (unfortunate really, because this also reduces our motivation).

 A few jobs have been squeezed in, but no great shakes alas.  The horse arena beds are now weeded and most of the autumn leaf fall has been swept up and deposited on the beds-to-fallow.  The paths will be weed-sprayed once it's dry enough.  Then it'll be the pea straw blanketing, though those bales are going to be pretty tricky to lift now that they're sodden.  The former grain beds have been covered in bits of the old living room carpet, and the same will happen to the currant beds once they've had a horse manure boost.  The old currant plants were well rooted and digging them up reduced the soil bed volume and what's left is likely in need of a nutrient supplement.  

 The place is looking quite a bit tidier, though the task of sorting out all the equipment like bird protection cloth, stakes and old seedling pots chucked in and around the Gin Palace is yet to be done.  It will be a satisfying task when complete, but the enormity of it at this stage is quite overwhelming.  Sorting the beehive hardware is also on the list, and some of the old boxes and frames will be burned.  I've had some of this equipment since I started beekeeping, which according to my blog was November 2011 (nearly a decade of beekeeping!).  Some of the boxes are rotting, not good for bee protection.  Let's hope there's a long enough gap between the rains to get a decent fire going.

The beehives have been wintered down and sadly one of the colonies is dead.  It was originally from a swarm and totally thrived last season.  There was no queen or brood when I checked, so the bee activity around the hive must have been robbing bees.  The hive was great when I inserted the varroa strips a few weeks earlier, so I don't really know what happened to it.  That leaves me with one colony (the split and re-queen from Derryn), and the top bar hive.  These are both full of healthy bees that are very busy when it's warmer.  

 

My friend Shona has been getting on with beeswax candle-making, producing absolutely gorgeous items like the sheep candle.  She's keen to get hers to market.  I've been ordering beeswax from local honey company Putake for her and also to boost my own supplies.  Putake are moving location soon, and guttingly, the wax-making arm of the business won't stay in Blenheim.  We've ordered heaps of wax in case we can't sort out a future supply. Peter's holding a 5kg block of their beautiful gold.

 The Christmas tree had a serious prune, and actually looks OK.  It was a Karyn-style prune that looked like more had come off than remained.  Its lifespan will be extended if it can accommodate this kind of severe pruning on a regular basis.  It's quite a relief to postpone making a decision about its future, as we're all rather fond of it.

 The livestock are coping with the rain, but none too impressed with it.  The cows are now separated into two groups.  Nike and Pandora have their own paddock, and the others are elsewhere.  Athena was supposed to be with the girls, but couldn't be persuaded in the moment and we figured it wouldn't matter anyhow.  They all bellow loudly for their morning and evening hay, and any time in between that they spot the presence of someone who could feed them.  In the mornings they're alert to the twitching of curtains or the switching on of a distant light - they can't be fooled.  Attis is definitely the naughty one, managing to find a way into other paddocks whenever he wants.  He has yet to truly learn that this might mean he is denied his hay. Apollo is the same as ever - endearing, but several sandwiches short of a picnic.  Noddy the bull is a bit of a bully but only noticeably so at mealtimes.  He's old enough now to snort aggressively and be intimidating.  I won't go into the same paddock, and even Peter is cautious when he's around.

The gourds have been placed on a pallet on the sheltered outside table.  None of them are touching, and it's been fascinating to observe the process of curing, which looks very much like rotting.  Some of them are growing their characteristic mould patterns (like the one in the photo) and others are just beginning to change colour in places.  It might look like rotting, but the browner ones are lighter, sound more hollow and have a solid woody feel.  What an amazing phenomenon.  The succulents I planted in the terracotta pots are happy and reproducing, and they'll eventually look great planted into those curvy, organic, voluptuous gourds.

 The peapod wine stopped bubbling so has now been bottled.  The wine itself looks quite pleasant - clear and a warm colour, but with a distinctly pea-ish aftertaste.  My belief is that this wine has the potential to improve dramatically with age.  Peter isn't quite so sure, though he does concede that the wine is vaguely drinkable (which is quite positive praise for my wines).  The ginger and turmeric combos have heaps of lees, but are still bubbling so have been left for a couple more weeks.

Peter has built an impressive extension to the woodshed.  Now we have fast-burning wood (pine) in the shed and slow-burning wood (gum) in the extension.  The combination makes for a roaring fire in these cold, damp evenings.  It looks very much like it was always part of the shed, and its roof will keep out the rain.  He may add a back wall to account for the driving westerly rain in the fullness of time if that looks like it'll help.  

We spent an awesome weekend in Christchurch with Sam, Molly and Billy.  Billy had his first Covid jab and was celebrating his 21st (gulp!) birthday.  Peter trawled through numerous fish, whisky and record shops, and I joined my former Ara workmates to celebrate Lorna's retirement.  We traveled by Lime scooters and spent time doing city stuff and going to markets.  Billy came back home with us and will return to Christchurch for his second jab.

Unable to decide what he wanted for his birthday (no fixed abode and with travel plans), Billy was happy to celebrate with a slap up meal out.  We went to 'Arbour', the poshest restaurant in Blenheim, and had 'The Many', consisting of 8 small and delectable courses.  Pus an extra chocolate brownie cake with candle for the birthday boy.  It was a lovely gastronomic experience and the service was top-notch.  Happy Birthday Billy!  Does this mean we can stop being parents now??  

The shortest day has been and gone and still the garlic is waiting to be planted.  Oops.  Surely a few days won't make much difference?  Anyway, having tasted the black garlic butter at 'Arbour' last night, I'm going to have to find some to plant.  Daffodils are flowering like it's spring but almost everything else is bracing itself for the colder weather.  A little sunshine would be uplifting please...  

 

May 2021

       We've had a killer frost this morning.  Not the first but definitely the stonkiest.  You can't help but get sucked into watching the glorious rising of mist when the sun gets warm enough. It doesn't happen until at least mid-morning, so unfortunately not a sight for sore eyes on a work day.  Luckily then there are eye-feasting compensations of either the waning moon or the morning sun hitting the horizon. 

The big vege garden tidy up is well underway.  Hedges are trimmed and weeds are cleared.  Peastraw is lined up ready to add to the beds that will be fallowed next year.  I'll wait to add this top blanket until the horse arena beds are also cleared of weeds so these can be composted in the vege garden beds too.  Though it's huge, the compost bed itself can't take any more volume.  It's chocka and I'm trying to avoid the collapse of its back wall.  The beds that will be planted next year are happily composting their own weeds.  They look untidy but eventually that should all break down.  The bulky path weeds were removed, and the rest got sprayed (never a pleasant task).  

The currant bed next to the beehives is now vacant.  Thank you Peter, that was quite a task!  The plants were all quite old and only produced a minimal crop this season.  The cuttings I took are coming away nicely, and if I'd labelled them properly, they could go in now.  I plan to have separate beds for black, red and white currants so will just have to leave them in their pots until the colour of their fruit is revealed.  Karyn - stop smirking.  Labelling isn't everything you know.  I'll compost the beds and cover them with some of our old living room carpet.

 The buckwheat has been magically transformed - milled into flour and hulls by Billy.  The amaranth has also been harvested.  That's it there in that old jam jar, the total crop.  A pocket-sized volume but least the crop also served the purpose of being very graceful plants.  The stalks were cut off and laid on an old sheet to dry further.  Then it was all beaten to release more of the seeds and sieved to get rid of the chaff.  An interesting kind of process which I'm sure could use some refinement.

The ginger and turmeric were also harvested, and the total sum of the crop was marginally more than was planted.  Hmmm, maybe the Onamalutu climate can't really be manipulated to suit these tropical plants after all, even with Madame Cholet's tender care.  Anyway, there was enough to make a 5L batch of Ginger Wine and another of Ginger and Turmeric.  One of the methods involved boiling and the other steeping.  I opted for boiling this time, as it's quicker, but would be keen to try the steeping sometime.  I couldn't find a recipe for Turmeric Wine and did have a moment when I wondered if that was a message from the universe - if no-one else has ever made it then probably there's a good reason.  But then again, maybe there isn't.  And on that note I went for the compromise of Ginger and Turmeric.

Some of the olive trees have actually produced a crop this year, that might have been worth harvesting.  They have produced olives before, but very sporadically.  I'd kind of given up on them really.  The trees have been providing wind protection and decorative height, but if they may actually crop properly, then I'd better work out what the heck to do with them.  There is a community press in town, but they require a minimum volume and unless you have a massive amount, there's no guarantee that the oil you get comes from your own olives.

The calves continue to be delightful and have been behaving themselves lately.  We've been feeding out hay on frosty mornings.  They're finally getting more interested in eating the hay, rather than lying down on it, and still like to come over for a head-stroke.  Poseidon, Billy's steer, will meet his maker next week.  Then we'll start keeping Noddy, Attis and Apollo separate from the girls, Athena, Nike and Pandora, as we don't want any teenage pregnancies.

I finally got round to dipping pine cones in wax to use as fire-starters.  The first batch got melted soy wax from the remains of a big candle that was past lighting, and the next batch got dipped in precious beeswax.  They make very effective fire-starters, ideal for getting the fire going quickly.

 

The Aztec corn was cut down, and I noticed that some of the cobs were more filled out than I’d thought. Happily quite a lot of the precious corn is retrievable, enough to make flour and to plant next year's crop with.  The colour palette of the kernels is less varied than last year, more of a purpley range, but that won't affect their use.

 The fabulous autumn colour is hanging in there, but undoubtedly on its way out.  I'll go into the beehives on the next warm day to take out the miticide strips and do the final wintering down. I'm optimistic that the remaining outdoor tasks will be completed before spring, though once the hives are sorted, that's the priorities dealt with.  

The new window which can be opened (unlike the old one) in the garage sleepout has been fitted, so we'll finally be able to convert that little room into a proper bedroom.  The sleepout itself can then be used as more of a living area, and in time can accommodate Airbnb families, rather than just couples.  I'll also be able to run my birth classes in there.  The electrics, carpet and painting will need to be done first, so we won't be short of a winter project or two.

We're really excited that Lucas and Laura now have plans to come back to New Zealand to live, rather than Australia.  The sleepout might well have them as occupants until they decide where they'd like to settle.  Molly is still in the process of getting her NZ Residency - already a long process with no obvious end in sight yet.  Billy is temporarily living with her and Sam, in the hope that this will increase his chances of an earlier Covid vaccine, so we're home alone (yippee....) for now.  As a health worker, I've already had my Covid vaccines.  I'm now good-to-go as a Covid and flu vaccinator and have got some work doing flu vaccs in early June.  Once the next batch of Covid vaccines arrives in the country and Group 3s become eligible, those clinics will be run off their feet.  The Trans-Tasman bubble has burst a few times since being created, and Melbourne is back in lockdown - world normality still seems a long way off.  Aside from the news, including the heart-breaking scenes from India, things all feel pretty normal around here.  Definitely time for us to smell the roses and count every one of our blessings.

“Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence.
Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance.
Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence.
Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.”

                                              — Yoko Ono

April 2021

This blog is being written from the absolutely beautiful Whatamango Bay, where we're having a mini-break.  The photos were taken when we arrived, and there was no rain in the forecast.  The Sounds can't have got that memo because the next day was quite a wash-out.  Peter had a crack at fishing off the jetty before the wind joined the rain and stopped play, while my little jaunt around Picton shops wasn't affected.  We had a very relaxing break nonetheless, and the view that took in Karaka Point, was amazing whatever the weather.  

Some tentative steps to winter-down the gardens around the house have finally started with a hedge trimming and some weeding.  There are peastraw bales lined up (at great expense $15 each - eeek - supplies have been limited this year and I didn’t get in soon enough).  Just the flower beds to weed now, which hopefully won't be too bad.  It's been a while and the weeds are pretty big, but that usually makes it easier to pull them, unless it's grass or clover. The art of optimism, eh?

 The first frost finally happened last night.  The citrus received their first organic ‘frost cloth’ spray in the nick of time.  It was a decent frost that killed off the gourd plant foliage, and thereby revealed the full extent of the crop.  A whole tableful of prime, scrumptious gourds now need to be dried for several months.  Some are huge and heavy and I'm hoping a plan to suspend them will materialise quite soon.  In the meantime it's totally soul-nourishing to look out over them, as a proud gourd-mama.  As usual, a glorious day followed the frosty night.  Perfect gardening weather meant that the process of weeding and tidying one of the vege beds was a happy task.  Now I've made a good start, I'm hoping that'll create a momentum for continuing with the tidy up. 

It’s been a lovely autumn, though we could have probably used a bit more rain.  Can’t really argue with bright, sunny days that are not too hot to work in. There have been the usual misty, moody sunrises, including the one in the photo, where the sky seems to be mirroring the colours in the garden.  

 We made a decision to dispatch our two rams, Walter and Junior.  That leaves us with ewes Marie, Skylar and Holly, and ram lamb, Saul. It’s filled up our freezer too.  Bone broth was made, and for the first time we had a go at rendering the fat to make mutton tallow.  It was an easy process in the slow cooker, so we now have heaps of clean, white fat for cooking.  The jars show the tallow when it was still liquid - oily and yellow.  The tallow can be used to make candles too, but I have enough beeswax for that.  

No sooner had we decided on the fate of our rams, my old pal Liz messaged to ask if we wanted their ram.  We got our very first ram, Rambo, from Liz, so very much déjà vu.  She’s decided not to do lambs next year, so their ram had to go one way or the other.  We were keen to change the genetics of our flock, and Hank will do the job nicely.  He’s a white Wiltshire breed and mostly sheds, except for a Mohican strip down his back.  He was straight into hassling the girls on arrival, so (hopefully) cue cute lambs later this year.  Young Saul seems to be keeping his distance from the flock - perhaps Hank is pushing him out a bit.

I’ve re-discovered our spiraliser and now have several bags of spiralised carrots, beets, broccoli stems, butternut and kumara prepped in the freezer.  They are versatile and cook quickly so are handy after long work days.  And I’m fairly sure I had way more fun than I ought to whilst spiralising.  Obviously that means I got a bit carried away...

The kitchen is nearly done and continues to be a joy.  Just the fan to wire in and the tiling behind the oven left.  The central bench is where everything happens and it’s the perfect height and size for working on.  The oven is now fully functioning and has seen its first of Peter’s Yorkshire puddings.  The gas burner is a bit of an adjustment as things cook much faster than we’re used to.  The central plate holds a wok perfectly and it’s been great to have it back in action.

 The buckwheat has been threshed and the grain separated from the chaff, using a very technical set up.  Pouring from one container into another in front of a fan blew away the light-weight chaff and husky debris.  A stronger fan might have done a better job, but the result wasn't too bad.  Next up - bribing Billy to grind away the husks and then finely grind the flour kernel within.  Then a small cushion can be made from the husks.  A very small cushion... 

 Fire restrictions have eased, so Peter took the opportunity to burn the old kitchen units and some other crap lying around.  That's created some space in the carport, in addition to space in the garage that appeared when the new kitchen stuff was shifted into the house.  Lots of old carpet and underlay will need to go to the tip, along with the old kitchen appliances that aren't worth passing on.  Some of the carpet has already been put aside to use as weed mat.  

No change on the home front, though we have booked a trip to Aus in September to do the Spinning Babies Practitioner course in Sydney - COVID pending.  Peter will join me at the end of the course and we’ll spend time with one of his old mates who emigrated there decades ago from Yorkshire.  I’ve had my first COVID vaccine and just about completed my vaccinator certificate so will be able to help out in the clinics.  Right now those clinics are absolute bedlam for the limited clinicians who staff them.  It’ll mean weekday hours for me, so that’s a big tick.  

Lucas and Laura are still planning to come back to NZ later in the year, before heading back to Melbourne.  They’re hanging out for quarantine-free travel because of the prohibitive cost of MIQs.  Sam had a trip to Stewart Island with the band, where they were warmly welcomed by the 400 ish total population.  He saw kiwi and heaps of other wildlife.  Hopefully I’ll get there myself one day - it’s on my bucket list.  Billy is hoping that my vaccinator status will mean a slightly earlier vaccine for him, and there’s a chance he may be right.  The vaccines are made up in batches, and any left at the end of the clinic are offered to health staff first, and then any family member who can get there on time.  He doesn’t have any definite plans other than to return to Europe when he can.

My hypno portfolio is still coming along, albeit in fits and starts.  It’ll be cool to officially be able to add the Spinning Babies content to my future classes later in the year.  That does mean I’d actually have to start the classes first, and I don’t have a specific plan there.  I definitely want to get the lion’s share of the hypno diploma completed before I launch into another pretty big project, and I’m trying to work on a bit of life/work balance and reduce the number of juggling balls in the air right now.  I’ve started the Autoimmune Protocol diet in a bid to curtail some rheumatoid arthritis symptoms that are shouting louder.  It’s very restrictive and means that much time is spent preparing food.  Not a bad thing in itself, but still needs accounting for. 

Our winter hay and firewood supplies are well stocked, so we’re feeling ready for winter when it really bites. Bring it on. "What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness" (John Steinbeck).