September 2021

Spring has sprung, and very welcome it is too.  Though it's been the wettest spring that I can recall, there's no doubt that the increase in temperature has been triggering fresh pasture and weed growth, fattening buds and bursting blossoms out, including these exquisite peachcot blooms.  It's also meant that some evenings are comfortable inside without a lit fire.  Hopefully we'll soon get a few sunny days to dry out the sodden pastures.

  The most delightful spring event has been the birth of beautiful lambs.  Our black ewe Marie was first up to birth a gorgeous jet black ewe lamb (called Clover).  We discovered later that she'd actually birthed twins, but the other lamb was very small and stillborn.  A few days later, Skyler who had been absolutely huge, birthed triplets.  We realised she was in labour and got there in time to witness the birth of her 2nd lamb.  The firstborn lamb popped into sight and we were delighted that there were 2 liveborn lambs.  We blinked and then voila - a 3rd lamb appeared.  They are 2 girls (Snowy and Stormy) and a boy (Sunny - all named by Melissa thank you!). Snowy is significantly smaller than the others.  Maybe she was a little weaker and the others got the lion's share of the milk.  We've been giving her a couple of top-up feeds a day, and she's got much livelier.  She likes to sleep lying on top of her mum - adorably cute but very tricky to photograph.  They're all fabulous time-wasters.

Meanwhile the cows are enjoying extended pasture options.  Instead of our aborted holidays to Sydney and Coromandel, we decided to stay at home for our week of leave.  Peter had already put in the new fence posts along the river boundary, a couple of metres in front of the old fence.  We managed to wire them up, including a hot wire, so could finally let the cattle into the back paddocks.  They immediately went mad scoffing the new grass, and poor Attis must have overdone it and ended up with a sore tummy.  It took a few days before he was back to normal again, but we were quite worried about him for a while there.  Pandora and Nike are still separated from the others and will remain so until they're old enough to become pregnant (in another year).  Pandora looks to be on heat so here's hoping the fences are good enough to keep them apart until then.     

 The garden also got some attention during that week.  The vege garden gravel paths are now done (except for one corner) and they're looking pretty darn good.  In fact, better than ever, which does make me feel a bit like I took advantage of the good natures of my garden fairies.  The gravel paths around the house are sporting a vibrant green crop of weedy grass - a gift from the silty floodwaters - and this makes me deeply appreciative that the vege garden paths won't have the same fate.  I don't mind weed spraying non-food areas, so it'll be easily sorted when I get round to it.  The garlic hadn't washed away in the flood and is now through.  I've planted a few more bulbs for good measure, and also some bought spring onion and coriander seedlings.  Such a good feeling to get things in the ground.  

 Madame Cholet is hosting the first batch of germinating seeds - various brassicas, spinach, beets, onions, daikon radish, lettuce, tomatoes and chillis are all popping up.  I'm having a bash at planting by the moon and these were sown around the last full moon.  I'm waiting until the weekend to plant the spuds, and soon after I'll get the beans and corn sown in the toilet roll plant pots that are lined up.

  

Black and red currant cuttings are planted out, as are a couple of new white currants.  The old gooseberry plants were spikily taking over the world and kept cross-pollinating and producing only a few small fruit.  They're now dug out and 2 new desert gooseberry plants have replaced them.  Two fruit trees gifted by Raylene at the Garden Bee have been re-homed in keyhole bed centres.  All these new plantings are in weed-matted beds, so that should cut down on future weeding hurray!  The strawberry bed has even been re-vamped.  Some new camarosa plants were planted, fertiliser was added, weedmat re-applied and Karyn's gravel loaded back on top.  The bed has a leaky hose running through it.  Just a case of remembering to plug that in every now and then.  

   

The flower gardens are showing signs of life, even flowers are appearing.  I planted some old-fashioned English bluebells around the base of the tulip tree and they've popped into life.  Irises and rosemary flowers are also adding purply blue to the colour palette out there.  The main flower bed is now totally weeded and pea straw applied.  The old pea straw was laid first.  It was already rotting down and full of river silt (guessing I'm going to be doing lots of weeding there this year).  A few new bales were needed to complete the task - these bales are full of pea seeds so I'll also be weeding out pea plants.

 The hedge cuttings that would have been planted around a couple of the keyhole beds sailed away in the flood, never to be seen again.  I've taken new ones but probably too late.  Here's hoping nonetheless... The tree seedlings that didn't float away (lots of oak, some pine nuts and an assortment of random probably stone fruit) have yet to be planted in the woodlot but their time will come.

Two demi-johns of mead are bubbling away and the Gorse Flower wine has had its first racking.  Molly was quite impressed with it - she thinks it tastes like apple crumble.  It was an optimistic enough taste to warrant another batch, which I'll get on with as soon as I get a sunny day at home with time on my hands.  I've spotted a recipe for Gorse Flower Gin too, so heaps of flowers will be necessary.  Luckily there's no shortage and it's a great feeling to be using a plant that has pest status here. 

  Sam and Molly came over for a weekend.  Plenty of eating and drinking happened as usual, and we had a fab day out in Picton (missed you Grannie-Annie!).  The family tradition of Mini Golf had to happen, won by Peter (no surprises there).  We trawled the shops and the stunning foreshore then headed home for a game of Monopoly (won by me - no surprises there either).  The face masks had arrived in a parcel from Lucas and Laura in Korea.  They made our skin peachy soft and helped wile away the evening hours (we know how to party here you know).  

 I'm still picking up vaccine clinic shifts.  While we were back under level 4 lockdown, the whole vaccination operation moved into the Stadium: plenty of room for 2m distancing, and literally thousands of freshly motivated people to vaccinate.  Now we're in level 2 the clinic has returned to its original venue, and the outreach clinics are being extended.  We did the first drive-thru at the weekend, using New World supermarket trolleys to stash the vaccination equipment that were taken out to cars.     

 I've been putting the mountain of beeswax to good candle-making use.  I probably have too many moulds but they are all adorable.  I'm making enough of these curious pregnant woman torso candles to gift my midwife colleagues at Christmas.  A few a day when I'm home and it's raining seems to be working.  It does keep me from doing other things I should be doing on a rainy day (like writing up my diploma portfolio), but it keeps me happy, and that's a pretty powerful argument when you have a dilemma.

 Lucas and Laura are patiently waiting for Laura's residency to come through, and in the meantime Laura has got a job working for the same company as Lucas as a junior website developer.  That's fantastic news for them because she can do that anywhere, even from the Onamalutu Valley.  Billy is enjoying au pairing in Ibiza, including being flown into Mallorca with his host family for football purposes.  His birthday present to Peter was the current Leeds shirt - proudly modeled in the photo.

Just us and the dog at home, so it's rather peaceful here.  Work keeps us both busy of course, but our downtime is relaxing enough despite the Life-Sentence Block work.  Better get back outside - those lambs won't watch themselves after all...   

August 2021

It’s been a biblical few weeks.  First came the destruction (flood) then the resurrection (restoration of the vege garden) followed by life ever-after (level 4 Covid-19 - let’s hope it just feels like forever). Timing-wise I’m feeling pretty blessed.  The garden working bee was perfectly scheduled - enough time for me to emotionally recover and get the necessities (weed mat, pins and gravel) in place, but just before covid lockdown level 4 hit us like a bus on Wednesday 18th August after a single case of Delta covid in Auckland.

  The working bee was a total joy.  Several very good and kind people came along to shift rocks and gravel and pin down weed mat, transforming the vege garden and some of the horse arena zone into a tidy, fresh, and neatly-pathed spectacle, frankly sooo much better than it ever has been.  Some of the volunteers prioritised the kitchen and made sure that everyone was well-fed and watered.  Big thanks to George, Gwen, Chelsea, Jane, Al, Derryn, Robert, Tina, Phil, Raylene, Emma, Carl, Sue, Hilda, Suzie, Caroline, Jodie & Clare.  I owe you all big time and am furiously making thank you candles.  

The rain has been a recurring theme this winter.  There’s a deluge expected again tomorrow, followed by days of rain and drizzle.  Probably (hopefully) not flooding levels again, but we’re still pretty boggy. I wonder if we have a very dry summer in store?  Happily, there are also signs that spring is on its way - sunshine, buds bursting, blossom, vivid green grass, and of course, those nor’wester winds. 

 

Winter colours are still lighting up the garden.  As I’ve trudged up and down the garden path a million times with wheelbarrows of gravel, it’s been absolutely delightful to check out the palette range, from purples and browns, to pinks, oranges, yellows and many greens.  The pinky/purply happy flowers are viola weeds that pop up charmingly everywhere.  The main flower bed is in a sorry state - taking advantage of me not getting round to spreading the pea straw by liberally adorning itself with weeds.  And of course, the orchard hasn't yet been pruned and may not get a look in this year.  It'll have to stop raining at a time when I'm home and without other priorities.  Um, we'll see.

  The natives in the bed in front of the Womb are starting to look more mature.  Even the hedge plants look like they may one day be an actual hedge.  The numerous cuttings of Mexican Orange Blossom are declaring themselves to be alive or dead - it's kinda good to know that before they're planted out.  I may wait until autumn to do this, to give them chance to get more robust before they're battered by the nor'wester winds.  The small trees in the pot are very welcome stone fruit gifts from Raelene that will one day find a home in the vege garden and orchard.

 The currant cuttings are coming away beautifully and will soon be planted into their forever homes.  I ditched a couple of beds (yep, another idea of Karyn's thank you) that previously housed currants and blueberries to extend the vege garden gravel paths behind the hay shed.  Now there’s more room to work beehives (when I get new colonies) and there are still two decent-sized beds remaining, one for red- and the other for blackcurrants.  A small raised bed in the horse arena will be planted with white currants.

 The livestock seem to be back to their normal selves following their near-death flood experience.  They're certainly demanding of hay, and it's reassuring to see that there is some spring pasture growth happening.  The days are getting longer too, which makes it possible to feed them in the daylight after a long vaccine clinic day.  A couple of the ewes are looking quite barrel-shaped, so here's hoping.  I've been wrong about this too many times before to rely on my wishful thinking

 The bees are pretty convinced that good times are ahead.  Normal hive activity has been observable, but I learned that locally, hives are being overrun by varroa mites (thanks for that tip Karyn).  Though the top bar hive has bees and brood, sadly in small numbers only.  I’ve added miticide strips but otherwise, they’re on their own.  I’d need another top bar hive to combine them with another colony.  The other hive is totally thriving - heaps of bees and brood, and even some honey stores leftover from winter.  Derryn can do me another split in a few weeks, and if I’m lucky, a swarm might come my way too.  I foresee a honey-filled summer.

 My lockdown birthday was serene and peaceful, on my own at home.  I’m not complaining. Lots of garden time, and the joy of foraging with Maggie.  Two litres of heavenly gorse flowers were picked and are now bubbling away in a demi-john.  Despite the first recipe instruction quipping 'bandage the holes in your fingers from gorse thorns', this wasn't necessary.  Small female hands meant that gloves weren't any advantage, and the flowers were so profuse I could be really choosy about the most reachable ones.  The wine is a delectable buttery yellow that I hope will live up to its divine reputation.  

 As well as the mini chain saw, I also got myself a new ukelele for my birthday.  I've been to classes with pal Jill and have enjoyed them tremendously, though it's safe to say I'm not likely to be hitting the showbiz scene anytime soon. Jill and me managed to strum along quite musically to 'Happy Birthday' at her husband George's party.  Hopefully there'll be a group we can join when lockdown is done. Billy got me a Kings Seeds gift voucher for my birthday, so I'm fully engaged in the process of drooling over what I'll grow in my newly floodwater-nourished beds.  The planning for seeds is nearly as exciting as the execution, and comes with the added bonus of rose-coloured spectacles.

There is a Billy-sized gap in our lives - he's working in Ibiza as planned.  Lucas and Laura want to come and live in our sleepout until they've saved enough deposit for their own place.  They're just waiting for Laura's residency.  We're keeping everything crossed that the current Covid situation won't delay their plans.  Sam is getting very bored working at the Managed Isolation Facility (MIQ) in Christchurch, and Molly is working from home.  Peter's as busy as ever, as an essential wine bottler (!).  

We're just canceling our Coromandel holiday plans - that were previously Syndey holiday plans - as we won't be able to fly into Auckland any time soon, even if we can eventually move around the South Island.  Probably I'll end up doing some more Covid vaccine clinic shifts instead of holidaying.  So lucky eh?  What is really amazing is that here are no deaths from Delta so far; some hospitalisations but no-one in Intensive Care.  We're all watching and waiting and hoping that lockdown restrictions will ease, and that life ever after will be freer and with less masks.       

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.