chronicles
Yesterday, we received the verdict on this year's saffron harvest: Just a quick note to let you know that your 2013 saffron consignment arrived safely . . . Wow! It has to be the most vibrant looking saffron I've received this season. It really is stunning! We're still doing the happy dance. The 5,887 flowers we picked this year yielded a total volume of 40.95 grams of saffron, an increase of just under four times last year's harvest (10.4 grams). Mark, the guy we grow for and author of yesterday's email, had been hoping for more but said that it was probably a good result, given the regional weather conditions over the last six months. We'd been worried that we'd over-dried half of it. He said if anything, it was very slightly under-dried but near enough to spot-on. He finished with: Thank you for the excellent product you produced this year. It's a huge relief for us. Not only are we going to be paid but Mark's talking about popping down for a visit. It'll be nice to meet him, as we've only communicated by phone and email so far.
Needless to say, I'm very motivated to take extra-special care of our plants for the next season. With flowering over, the beds are full of foliage. This will die off in early summer, feeding the production of new corms, so now is the time to give the plants some extra tucker. I'll start with a bit of delicious worm wee and move on to comfrey tea in mid-spring. That'll make the little darlings' eyes water. Still on the subject of harvests, despite the drought conditions over summer and early autumn, our soil had improved enough in the vege garden to give us a small surplus of some veges to freeze: 1.5 kilos of bush beans, a couple of kilos of broccoli and rhubarb and 2.5 kilos of tomato pulp. The star, though, was this year's raspberry harvest: 13.8 kilos! If I could give any advice to a new grower, it would be this: count and weigh everything and keep records. It's the most tangible way of measuring your progress. And it'll remind you why you felt compelled to pay a small fortune for a bloody great chest freezer, just like we recently did. Posted by Farmer Nik Thanks to everyone who helped with harvesting and processing saffron (and raspberries!) this year. You made our lives a little easier and we love you for it. x
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After almost two years of making do without help from enormous, fossil fuel-guzzling pieces of equipment, we recently bowed to the inevitable and acquired a tractor.
It goes against my permaculture sensibilities, I admit, but the bottom line is that Muntanui is a 25-hectare (61 acre) property -- smaller than your average farm but a lot bigger than your average lifestyle block. If we're ever going to tackle big projects like regenerating our pasture, we'll need a lot of help. Neither of us has experience with draft horses and/or bullock teams and we don't have time to learn. Enter THE MUNTANISER. A beast of a thing, isn't it? It arrived on the same day I flew down to Christchurch, ostensibly to spend time with my sister-in-law and niece but in reality to infect everyone inside a 10-kilometre radius with the worst sore throat in the entire history of throats. Farmer Wan would dutifully ring me at least once a day and I'd do my best to communicate with clicks and whistles and the occasional shriek. I needn't have bothered, really, because the conversation generally went like this: FARMER WAN: How are you? FARMER NIK: (struggling to make a sound) FARMER WAN: I started it up today and sat in the cab while it was running. FARMER NIK: (fizzing noise) Or this, from Day Seven: FARMER WAN: How are you? FARMER NIK: (croaks) FARMER WAN: Today I drove it down the driveway and then I turned it around and drove it back. FARMER NIK: (gulping sounds) It's almost embarrassing, the depth of his infatuation with this monstrosity, but I can live with it because I know it will make his work a heck of a lot easier, Muntanui will benefit and we'll both be happy as a result. That means more to me than anything the Permaculture Police might have to say on the subject. So, roll on spring! Release THE MUNTANISER! New, improved pasture, here we come! Posted by Farmer Nik Our first snow of the year fell yesterday -- enough to cover the ground, before rain washed a lot of it away. A little more fell last night and then froze. That's it there, that white stuff amongst the grass, all icy and slippery and un-fun.
Our highest recorded temperature today was ... wait for it ... 3.4degC at 11:23am. Woohoo! That's effing freezing! And at 5:23pm with a wind chill factor of -5, it felt like -6.6degC. It really did. Trust me. Snow showers are forecast for tonight with a couple of fine, frosty days ahead. I'd write more about the impending winter but I'm starting to shiver just thinking about it. I need red wine. And a woolly hat. And a cuddle from Farmer Wan. Posted by Farmer Nik Saturday 4 May was set to be the biggest day in Spiderbuilder the Ram’s calendar: we were putting him out to the ewes. Last year’s orgy took place in the middle of April and the lambs were born in the first two weeks of September, during the worst weather of the year. This time, we decided to hold off a few weeks, hoping that the weather would be more settled during lambing and there’d be more pasture growth for the ewes. Natalie, Andreas our neighbour and Charlie, the wether that wasn't Farmer Wan and a couple of friends had separated Spidey from the flock back in February. They tossed him over the fence into another paddock with last year’s wether lambs for company. After a short period of adjustment, the boys seemed happy to bach it together. Our Swiss friend, Natalie, was staying with us over Spidey’s big weekend. I’d talked up his previous year’s prowess and she was keen to come with us to watch the show. Getting Spidey into the ewe paddock was the first challenge. He didn’t seem very interested in checking out the girls, preferring instead to run away from us. He’s not exactly an ovine Mastermind candidate. Or a Rambo (pun intended). The wethers, by contrast, couldn’t wait to charge into the ewe paddock. Silly, silly us. For some reason, we’d thought that “no testicles” equalled “no interest” -- the bald eunuch in Game of Thrones doesn’t seem to pine for jollies, as an example. It’s obviously different for sheep. The wethers literally ran up over the backs of the startled ewes and began partying like it was 1999.
Spidey eventually sauntered through the gate. I started humming Some Enchanted Evening to encourage him. He sniffed at a couple of disinterested ewes and then noticed what the wethers were up to. He fought them both off for about five minutes before taking a short breather. In this time he managed to do the business with a young ewe, with whom he – it sounds stupid but I swear it’s exactly how it looked – fell in love. He smooched around her, nuzzling her neck, presumably demonstrating that she meant more to him than a one-afternoon stand and he still respected her. It was more embarrassing to watch than the renewed leap-frog attempts by the wethers. This was not the wildly exciting erotic fiesta we'd promised Natalie and I could see she was growing bored. Farmer Wan suggested playing some Barry White to our love-struck ram to boost his ardour but it was growing cold and there was obviously nothing to see here, folks. We left them all to it. The next day, Farmer Wan called out that we had a ewe in trouble. Charlie the wether had pestered her so much that in her efforts to escape, she'd got tangled up in some portable electric fencing and ripped out her ear tag. We disentangled her and Farmer Wan dragged her into the yards to give her some peace. Charlie trotted in after her, so Farmer Wan flipped him on his back and started dragging him out. It was then that we saw them -- two bulges that weren't supposed to be there. Charlie, although missing a "purse", is still in possession of its contents -- which totally explained his enthusiasm for the girls. We're hoping that he and the other wether are shooting blanks but there's no real way of telling. Oh joy. It's going to be another interesting lambing season this year ... Posted by Farmer Nik On 2 April 2013, the Muntanui 5kW Solar Power Station was officially commissioned and came on line. It is now supplying power, not only to Muntanui, but also the surrounding properties and anyone else connected to the New Zealand power grid. It was a long time in the planning and execution. We placed orders for equipment back in October 2012. The solar panels arrived in late November and the inverter and cabling in January. Installation of the panels and inverter took a couple of days in late January and then there was a wait for the power company to supply the new import/export meter. In the meantime, we arranged for power cables to be run through a trench from the shed to the house. Here are a few technical details: 22 x 230W PV-TJ230GA6 Mitsubishi Solar Panels 1 x SMA SB5000TL Solarworld 5kW Inverter Our average power consumption at this time of year is around 13kWh per day. Working on the basis of approximately six hours of useful daylight, this gives a required system size of 2.2kW. We decided to go for the most we could afford now and sell excess power to the grid, hence the 5.0kW installed. It was not cheap and certainly nowhere near as cheap as systems being offered for sale in Australia these days. But, as with most things, you get what you pay for. We have Japanese manufactured panels and the inverter is from Solarworld in Germany, both good quality and reliable suppliers. We missed out on all of the great weather in Feb/Mar and, as you can see from the graph below, production is already slowing down as we get into winter. Our second day of production was a satisfying 27.55kWh. We have already produced a total of 400kWh and look forward to celebrating our first 1MWh in about seven weeks time -- depending upon the weather, of course. We haven't yet received our first power bill to confirm import/export prices. It will be interesting to see how that works out. Now we shall be looking at ways of reducing our existing usage to enable us to export as much as possible back to the grid. Posted by Farmer Wan
The great thing about organising your life around the farming calendar is that you're given plenty of time to cultivate a creeping sense of dread: Lambing's in September! OMG! Only five months to go! Or: It's April and nothing's growing in the garden except misshapen Brussels sprouts and spindly leeks! We'll be dead by October! So when we learned last year that all cattle have to be tested annually for tuberculosis, we had a good twelve months to work ourselves into a real lather at the prospect. As testing time drew nearer, a farmer friend warned us that the local TB testing guy didn't like "lifestylers" because they "don't have a clue". Forewarned is forearmed, as they say. We were determined to win the TB testing guy's respect. After all, we had yards! Our cattle would be docile and sweet. The job would be completed in under ten minutes. The tester would rub his grizzled head, cock an eyebrow and grunt his appreciation. We'd smile humbly and shake his hand. The day before the test, we had a practice session. It was a complete success -- took a mere hour and a half to get all six beasts into the yard and through the crush -- and they only charged through the temporary electric fencing once. No worries!*** When the TB testing guy arrived, he announced, "I bloody hate Highland cattle." Things kind of went downhill from there. Our animals, wary of the stranger, were anything but docile. They point-blank refused to enter the yards. Farmer Wan and I chased them around the paddock, flailing our arms helplessly. When we did finally get them yarded, Hamish the bull was stroppy and Bonnie, our huge alpha-female, bullied the others away from the crush. Then our young heifer burst through the head bail and ran off. At least the rest were tested. "I'll be back in three days," said the TB testing guy. "Try to have the bull in the crush and the rest yarded by the time I arrive." Hamish = good. The rest = steak soon if they don't watch it. We knew we'd be okay the second time because we had reinforcements in the shape of my brother, Ciaran. Forty-five minutes before the tester was due, the three of us went out into the paddock, brandishing our polypipe waddys. We meant business. Hamish was feeling cooperative. We got him into the crush with very little trouble. Yay! This was going to be a doddle! Three-quarters of an hour later, the TB testing guy watched from his car as we tried -- and failed -- for the fourth time to get the other cattle into the yard. He ambled up the track towards us, just as they burst through the temporary electric fencing yet again and charged off into the back paddock through a gate that had somehow been left open. Farmer Wan threw down his waddy and swore loudly. The TB testing guy rolled his eyes and something in me snapped. I was going to get those damned animals yarded, even if it took the rest of the afternoon. While Ciaran kept the tester distracted with casual conversation, I chased them up the hill to the track, waving my waddy and yelling at the top of my lungs. They started trotting in the right direction, more from exhaustion than my efforts, I think. Just as they were about to break out and charge back down the hill, Farmer Wan appeared and drove them from the other side. Ten minutes later, it was all over. Done. Dusted. Finis. I couldn't believe it. "If I were you, I'd knock the big cow on the head. That dippy heifer too," said the TB testing guy as we walked him back to his car. "You're lucky I don't charge by the hour." He half-smiled, though, and I thought I saw the teeniest glimmer of something in his eyes. Not respect, but some kind of acknowledgment. So now we have a whole year in which to dread the next round of TB testing. If we do nothing else in those 12 months, it's clear we'll have to get our cattle more used to being yarded. We'll have to round 'em up and keep them doggies rollin', regularly. And that, my friends, is why it's perfectly obvious that I need a stock whip ... desperately need a stock whip. My need is dire -- it's not just about the cool sound they make and the fact that I've always wanted one ever since I saw the Indiana Jones movies. I'm sure the TB testing guy would back me up 100% on this. Posted by Farmer Nik *** For the benefit of friends and family who know even less about farming than we do, that result was woeful. Oh, you pretty thing ... I'd been getting a little nervous about how this year's saffron harvest would go. Apart from topping up the raised beds in mid-December (thanks to Margaret of Clan Davidson for spending an entire afternoon pushing barrows full of compost uphill) and doing the occasional bit of weeding, we didn't pay them much attention. Then we had six weeks of hot weather and no rain. Farmer Wan hooked up a sprinkler, gave the parched corms a drink and we waited. Much to our surprise, our first flower popped up on 30 March, two days earlier than last year. Wednesday: only another 300 or so to process Everything's different to last year, this time around. Although we're not harvesting 500 flowers a day, as the guy we're growing for said we might, there are definitely more of them. Yesterday, I picked 344. On Wednesday, we processed 745. And yeah, I count them. Last year, we had a lot more foliage appear before the flowers. This year, it's the other way around, which I suspect is how it's meant to be. The red stigmas (the actual saffron bits) seem longer this year. There's a higher proportion of doubles, rather than the more desirable triplets. I'm not sure why. I think the 2013 harvest may well be more drawn out. The corms were all planted on the same day last year and most of the plants came up at the same time. This year, we still have entire rows yet to break the surface. We've got the processing side of things down pat now. It's fiddly work but satisfying, in its way. The most challenging part of the whole process is the drying. Last year, we under-dried. This year, we might have gone a little too far the other way. It's a nerve-wracking prospect because perfect product means top dollar. We won't know for sure until it's sent away and analysed. In the meantime, we'll do our best to get it spot-on. And now, to prove there's a lot more to Farmer Wan than simply building chook houses, chopping firewood and constructing bunny-proof fences, feast your eyes on his gorgeous images of our exotic cash crop. Posted by Farmer Nik It was Thursday 13 December and stinking hot. Farmer Wan and I were making our first cut of hay in the orchard. Our orchard is approximately one quarter of an acre in size, which equates to 1,011.71 square metres or .101171 of a hectare. I’d just like to say that it feels a hell of a lot bigger than that when you’re cutting it with a scythe. In order to forestall my breaking down and sobbing bitterly when contemplating the enormity of our task, I made up a song – a little scything, hay-making song – and sang it very loudly and off-key (on purpose, of course, for comic effect). It’s sung to the tune of We Are The World, a composition that was considered very worthy for all of about ten minutes, way back last century: We are the world We are the farmers We are the people gonna grow your food So you’d better not harm us We are the world We are the growers So you’d better come to Muntanui And get to know us Farmer Wan came up with the last two lines, so we’re both to blame for the end result. As for the bit about growing everyone's food, well, I'll get back to you once I've managed to grow our own. The hay crew (image courtesy of Cat Davidson) After two days of scything, a further two days of diligent turning with a pitch-fork, and one could-have-been-but-wasn’t case of heat stroke, the weather turned. The hay was beautiful but still not dry enough to bale. Fortunately, we had help in the form of Clan Davidson, dear friends who were visiting from Scotland and Oz. They helped us rake the hay and stash it under the Biggest Tarp in the World. A few days later it was ready. But we weren’t. Not by a long shot. The problem was, how to bale hay when you: a) don’t have a baling machine b) don’t have enough hay to interest a contractor c) are trying to come up with solutions that don’t involve large amounts of fossil fuel and cash. Solution Mark 1 was based around the idea of a wool press: After four hours of very hot, scratchy and tiring work, we had 30 micro-bales – probably enough to feed our cattle for a week. Although we’re not afraid of hard work, we concluded that this method was just too labour-intensive and therefore, unsustainable. We made the second hay cut at the end of January/early February. Solution Mark II to the baling problem was the Hay Sack, basically a great big bag stitched out of bird netting with a strong tie threaded through the top. It’s rodent-proof, it lets air circulate and it’s sort-of stackable. Fun factor and sculptural qualities notwithstanding, we know our Hay Sacks aren’t really a solution either. They're not practical for the amount of hay our cows will need over winter.
We still think it’s worth the effort to cut as much hay as we can ourselves because the orchard stuff is the best grass we've got – weed-free and full of yummy clover. And it doesn't cost anything except time. But we always knew we'd have to get in more and, given that we were teetering on the verge of drought for eight weeks, we were worried that no-one would have any to spare, and if they did, that it would cost a fortune. Enter the wonderful Gary and Kirsten from nearby Waireka Downs farm. They'd contacted one of our absentee neighbours about mowing his paddocks and asked us if we'd like some. So we now have 141 bales in our shed, it only cost us what it cost Gary to operate his equipment and we're set for winter ... we hope. And while the bovines are happily munching hay in the snow, we can plan how to increase our own hay cuts next year. Posted by Farmer Nik Huge thanks also to the Shaw family who transported Gary's hay to us and helped stack it. All stabilised and ready to deplete the national grid 1. Making merry Ah, Christmas. It only seems like 41 days ago. We lovingly adhered to all the festive Muntanui traditions for our third Christmas here, the most notable being the Ritual of the Tree. It goes something like this: 1. Farmer Wan locates a suitable wilding Douglas Fir (they seed from the plantation next door), cuts it down and carries it home slung effortlessly over one mighty shoulder. 2. Farmer Nik spends all afternoon decorating it. 3. Anywhere from fifteen seconds to six hours after the decorating process is complete, the tree topples over. This year set a new record: the tree began falling as the last bauble was still being draped over its branch. Best. Pav. Ever. On Christmas Eve, we met a lovely Belgian couple and invited them to come to Muntanui the following afternoon and sample that most Kiwi* of summer desserts, the pavlova. Luckily for me, it was the best pav I've ever made. New Zealanders everywhere breathed a sigh of relief, national pride intact. New Year's Eve was a very sedate affair, spent in the company of some of our neighbours and Farmer Wan's brother Malcolm, who'd touched down from Scotland a few hours earlier. While it's true there might have been drinking, dancing and singing, only one of us had to spend all of the next day in bed to recover. I'll leave it to you to guess who that was. The winner gets to help us scythe the orchard. We've also been making general merriment of late because it's summer, we love summer and being happy in summer is kind of mandatory. *Aussie friends, take note. Two people, two scythes, a useless dog and a bloody great orchard. 2. Making hay This one will get a post all to itself. The content will feature much physical effort, much scratching of heads to come up with creative solutions to all sorts of challenges, and a song. I don't want to give too much away lest I spoil your hunger for this future hay-making narrative but I will share this about the song: it played a vital role in our first hay cut. It boosted morale and that's very important when you want to make hay but have no tractor, no baler and no money. I wouldn't be surprised if the song catches on. When I share it with you, you'll see why. Maybe it will become a kind of hay-making anthem. Maybe we'll make an album and get rich and spend all our days lying around on tropical beaches reminiscing about how we used to scythe our orchard and sing funny songs. 3. Making progress Work's underway on our solar power system; one side of the Polytunnel of Love is totally complete and functioning well; and we've decided that Farmer Wan needs a licence to bear arms. Details on all this and more to follow soon(ish). Posted by Farmer Nik If you're visiting Muntanui for the first time because of the feature in last weekend's Nelson Mail (or this weekend's edition of The Christchurch Press), hello and welcome! We hope you'll stop by often. If you're a regular, hello and welcome to you too. Farmer Wan and I, thanks to the afore-mentioned feature, are currently enjoying 15 seconds of fame. Feel free to follow the link, read the story, be mightily inspired and then send us money or something. We've been beavering away on two major projects over the last few weeks:
Because both involve raised beds and there was no way we could fill them with the compost we're making ourselves, we forked out for 12 cubic metres of the yummy, black stuff. So far, I've loaded about a quarter of it into wheelbarrows and trundled it around the place. This is a very satisfying process, physically speaking. Sandflies now require oxygen when scaling my biceps. Each project will get its own post, with lots of pics, in the near future. In the meantime, here's a sampling of images to show why we love Muntanui in the springtime. Coming soon: Compost: the agony and the ecstasy. No, just make that the agony.
Posted by Farmer Nik |
About Ewan and NikiFarmer WanScottish mechanical engineer with a deep and abiding passion for good food. Outstanding cook. Builder of lots of stuff. Cattle whisperer. Connoisseur of beer. A lover rather than a fighter. Farmer NikKiwi writer and broadcaster who hates cabbage, even though she knows it's good for her. Chook wrangler. Grower of food and flowers. Maker of fine preserves. Lover of dancing and wine. Definitely a fighter. Archives
November 2016
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