Girlie Farming

This morning Marg and John arrived out in their ute with some very welcome firewood from one of their trees. They also brought along a chainsaw and John went out into Briar's paddock and began cutting up pine branches that had been piled in the middle years ago and which now had blackberry entwined throughout it. He got a fair amount of wood cut before lunch. Marg carried all of it across and threw it over the fence while I loaded the wheelbarrow. Andrew the farm manager wandered over while this was going on and suggested that there was some better wood to cut up out the front of my place under some trees before offering some old totara fence battens that were only going to waste and would make good kindling.

After lunch John did a bit more woodcutting but suggested he needed to return in a fortnight with a smaller chainsaw which wasn't so heavy and hard on his joints. Although he was in pain he did find some amusement in how I organise things round here. The highlight of his day seemed to be when he laid eyes on the temporary fence that I had erected along the back to keep the goats in around the hen house. After he'd stopped laughing he found some of my electric fence standards and stabilised the wire netting a bit more. Honestly you'd have thought no one had ever seen a fence held up by large garden forks with bows tied on the top before!

Catnip Controversy

My cats have their own collection of toys stored in the "round house" a disused carpet-clad-sleeping-hideyhole-come-scratching post which was given to me after someone's cat died. My girls never use it so instead I keep their toys there. The only problem is that they never play with them, preferring instead the simple joys of batting pieces of kitty litter about the kitchen. Demelza's other game is stealing whatever items of mine she can lay her paws on. Just this week I found one of my heart pills underneath a mat where she'd stashed it.

However this week Demelza rediscovered a moth eaten catnip mouse that belonged to my sister's cat for the couple of years she deigned to live with me. The first I knew about it was when I unexpectedly put my foot on something wet and white and nearly went through the roof. Later that evening I saw Demelza carrying the same poor hairy lump around the kitchen before she batted it into submission.

For two hours each evening she plays with it, one night she even woke me up at 3am playing mouse hockey. But then Peaches decided to get into the act and began stealing the mouse. Then Kit began taking an interest. Now we have no peace at all as cat wars over the nip mouse has broken out in the dining room.

To escape the silliness I go outside and talk to the goats. They have eaten down the orchard paddock and as I still haven't got a fence across the field at the back every day I let them out and they feed on the blackberry and long grass. The first time I was concerned that I'd never get them back, especially after all the shennanigans I had with Xena Warrior Goat when she first arrived. However I discovered that she follows me if I go out of view and that all I need to do is hold a maragarine container in my hand and she'll come running. Well she does associate it with goat pellets so I always make sure I have a few to coax her back into her field. Gretel and Heidi are never too far behind.

Suki

One of my favourite hens died this morning. I was expecting it as Suki had been slowing down the past few days and although still eating was looking a bit wobbly. Well she was twelve years old so it wasn't surprising. I've been searching for photos of her but none were really good- it was difficult to get a close up shot as she was always so busy scratching and generally doing chook things. However her speckled gene has passed down the line and hopefully will continue to pop out in the occasion descendant.

Suki had three lots of chicks over the years. The first family was when she was only five months old which either makes her precocious or else a total slut. However she proved an excellent Mum and when she hatched another clutch six months later she did another great job. Her last time was several years ago and although she would periodically go broody she never stayed on the next long enough for her eggs to amount to anything. I will miss her as will her Mum "Peanut" who will be fourteen years old in November this year.

It's been a dreary wet day and everyone is miserable outside. Briar has hung her head and barely eaten while the goats stood shivering in the woodshed. I only went outside twice to feed everyone and bury Suki in the garden.

On a positive note though I finally received my loom last week. The friend who had collected it from Helensville had kept it at her place in Auckland until her brother and mother visited and they brought it back to Napier. My brother then delivered it last week. It came with a great collection of hammers and pieces of wood which I have no idea what to do with. It sits in state on a table in the dining room and Kit Cat curls up in it as decoration. Now I just have to learn how to use it.

Noodle's Sunday Afternoon Ramble

It was a stunning golden day today so after lunch I decided to take my camera and get a few photos of the beautiful trees along the side of the road with the sun shining through their leaves. When Mishka and I were halfway along the drive I happened to glance back and saw Noodle Rooster running after us. I thought he'd give up by the time we reached the cattle stop but he kept following even when I made it up to the road (and the drive from my place is about a quarter of a mile long so that's some way to go for a fowl).

I made it along the middle of the road without meeting any traffic and got some fantastic shots of the sun filtering through the trees and blazing on the creamy plumes of the toi toi bushes. By the time I returned to the cattle stop I was sure Noodle would have run home but he was waiting patiently for us under a tree near the gate. He then ran behind us all the way home again. Now that's devotion!

The Great Escape Attempt

The new farm manager came in to introduce himself last Monday afternoon while walking his dog and his baby daughter in a stroller. He said to give him a ring if I needed any help and he would try to get over inbetween farm work. I was so surprised at his kind offer that after he left I realised that I couldn't remember his name although his dog was called Peanut. Probably gives a good idea where my priorities usually lie.

I didn't realise how soon I would need his help but on arriving home late after painting group and visiting a sick friend on Wednesday I discovered that Xena Warrior Goat had gone beneath the old wash house and managed to wind her rope tether round a wooden pile. I sat on the muddy ground and tried to reach her only to get head butted for my trouble. Grabbing a garden fork I tried to pull the rope near me so I could untangle it but this caused Xena to pull further underneath the building. I finally tried to cut the rope with a pair of loppers but couldn't get the blades round it. Finally in desperation at 5.45pm I rang the farm manager's house.

The phone was answered by his wife Charlotte who on hearing my predicament said she would be right over once she'd settled the baby down for a sleep. A few minutes later she arrived with Peanut the dog, her two and a half year old daughter Georgia and a baby monitor. By this time it was completely dark but we both had torches so Charlotte was able to see the nanny clearly but couldn't reach over to untangle her. A rusty old fridge was blocking the way so she tipped out of the way and tried to crawl under the shed but Xena felt threatened and tried to butt her. Realising that girl power just wasn't going to cut it this time Charlotte said she'd send Andrew over after he'd finished feeding the farm dogs.

It was after 6pm by this time and very cold. I shut Mishka inside and collected a rose branch and some pellets and fed these to Xena. She was starving but as she was in a bit of an IRM (Intensely Ratty Mood) she tried to gore my hands after she'd finished eating.

In the darkness I saw a torch coming towards the orchard as Andrew, his little girl and Peanut came to the rescue. He lay in the dirt and untangled the rope before dragging one very angry nanny out. Taking no nonsense from her he told me to pat her before tying her to a dog kennel further along the orchard. Fortunately for me he loves goats having just come off a farm in Wairoa where they were raising them for the Middle East market. Grabbing Xena he shone a torch in her mouth and told me she was probably at least four years old and not the youngster we'd been told she was which accounts for her cunning and stubborness I guess.

When I came back inside the house was freezing cold and although I lit the fire it didn't warm up before I went to bed a few hours later. I spent the evening trying to work out why I like goats. The next morning I cautiously checked outside and saw Xena was still tied up with Gretel and Heidi beside her.

A big breakthrough though came on Friday when I put some pellets in my hand and both Xena and Gretel ate from it. Yesterday Xena managed to get off her rope but when she saw me she came up immediately and again was happy to hand feed. Gretel also loves to sniff for treats and runs up to me when I go to the gate. After just three weeks I think this is a major step forward.


Meanwhile the weather gets colder and colder. There is snow on the ranges, not a bit unlike my painting to the left. I have come to the realisation that my kent log fire may need art lessons- it's not drawing properly. I spend quite a bit of the day on my knees blowing ash all over the place as I try to get it to catch. Roll on Spring.

Charlotte Lovers Beware!

Anyone who knows me well can state with certainty that I'm not very good with creepy crawlies. At primary school my nickname was "Daddy Long Legs" due to my arachnophobia heightened by the stories my mother told me of the giant spiders who lived in our woodshed in the back yard and the ones that came out at night from under my bed at my grandparent's old house and apparently ran over my face while I was asleep.

I have been really good lately. I don't scream when I'm divebombed by anything leggy falling from the ceiling. I even managed to go past an eight inch long stick insect that has taken up residence in an old rose bush out the front the other day. However a few mornings ago my heart almost stopped when I went into the loo and saw the mother of all spiders lying in wait near the door. I do not exaggerate so when I say that its body was a good 1 cm in length and its legs 8 cms in diametre you can be pretty certain that this was no ordinary breed of spider but a mutant strain sent to exterminate mankind. I rushed for the fly spray and let rip till it was iced white but the monster just sat there and did nothing but stare up at me with all eight beady little eyes. I then took a rolled up newspaper and bashed the living daylights out of it until it rolled up in self defence and limped away under the outside door.

When I told my friend John about this he was incredibly shocked that I could do such a thing since I say I'm an animal lover. I did tell him that I wished it a happy rebirth but he remained pretty appalled and told me that I've probably killed the last of a rare strain of NZ native arachnae. I ended up feeling so guilty that I realised that instead I should have carried it outside to the woodshed and provided it was a nice new cobweb and a friendly talking pig as a companion.......