Struan Farm

A Rose by Any Other Name

My sister-in-law Anna is a gardener. She has made lovely cottage gardens around her house that provide color of some sort all year. While I love my veggie garden and fruit trees, the leap to becoming a proper gardener in all respects is a learning experience for me. As a result Anna is helping me make the gardens at the farm somewhat lower maintenance, since John's parents spent much of their time in later life on the gardens alone.

I wanted to make sure we took cuttings of several old roses I love that I knew would be in the path of John's planned landscaping projects, just in case he forgot to move them.

Anna came out on a recent weekend to help me with the late winter/early spring garden cleanout; we had a day weeding and cutting back the roses and hydrangea. We took these cuttings:

 

Okay, she took the cuttings and I put them in pots as instructed. They are thriving given all the rain we've had, so I should have lots of new rose bushes to plant shortly.

Imagine: Getting Ready for Morning Teas

When I'm in the car I listen to NZ National Radio. In the afternoons on weekdays Jim Mora hosts a show called, coincidentally, "Afternoons with Jim Mora." He has different panelists on each day to discuss the issues du jour, plays music, and provokes discussions with guests and experts from near and far. 

One segment on the show is called "The Best Song Ever Written." This week the person opted for John Lennon's "Imagine," a song that just about everyone knows and loves.

To quote from the song: "You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one." John and I regularly catch ourselves dreaming about what everything will look like when we're finally finished with our renovation work (inside and out) at Struan Farm, especially now that we're on the home stretch with the Homestead interior. Dreamtime for us is part of the process. We also realize that we'll never be finished with this property, it will always be on to the next project.

I have been gathering items for proper morning and afternoon teas that I plan to use for our farmstay guests and Knitting Studio workshop attendees. Of course these include tea pots with knitted/felted cosies, a sample below by Laura Fay Creations purchased at Embellishments in Rotorua and also at a shop in Gisborne:

At some point I stumbled upon a vintage embroidered linen placemat with a tea cup and "Good Morning" on it. I thought it was a lovely one off piece that someone had made, but have since discovered that apparently they were used more commonly on breakfast trays, and have found several more. I've also figured out that the cups are actually pockets for wee matching napkins, although my dreaming about this doesn't take me quite that far!

 

Road Trip-Part Three

After my meeting in Hokitika I drove up the West Coast to Nelson for a meeting there the following day. Fortunately the rental car company determined that a Rav4 was the order of the day given the foul weather and my four hour drive, so at least I was behind the wheel of a reasonably sturdy vehicle for the conditions.

The trip started along the rugged coastline eventually moving inland, but with views of snow capped peaks pretty much all the way. The road is good absent the odd slip or fallen tree.

I arrived in Nelson in time for a late flying visit to Fibre Spectrum, an artisan co-op on Trafalgar Street quite close to the Cathedral. It's a great place for inspiration given the large number of creative people in the community, in this case knitters, spinners, weavers, and felters.  The wall of hand spun yarns in rainbow colors caught my eye, as well as some skeins of hand dyed felted yarn:

 
I left with these felted, beaded hearts by Denise McKenzie as well, heading to the hotel for an early evening:

 

After my meeting the next day I stayed overnight to visit a friend, also to have time to go to the Nelson Market. My carry-on bag came home with the first asparagus of the season, some beautiful kale, and locally produced hazelnut flour and oil (latter produced and purchased in the Upper Moutere at The Old Post Office).

In my travels I stopped to check out the latest at The Mapua Country Trading Company. This business, another source of creative products made by local craftspeople, sells primarily online, http://www.mapuacountrytrading.co.nz , but also has a retail shop near Mapua Wharf.  I seriously love the rusty chooks above the entrance and am getting the details on the artist who makes those. But wares sold in the shop and on the website include locally crafted trugs, willow baskets, candles in vintage sugar bowls and creamers, and heirloom vegetable plants/seeds and fruit trees. Many items are made from recycled or "repurposed" materials. 

 
And of course I couldn't leave Nelson without a visit to Eclectic, one of the best shops I've found in NZ for all things vintage/retro. My button and buckle stashes have been enhanced a wee bit. They had a beautiful display of white pottery in the window (possibly Crown Lynn, but I'm not an expert on this?):

 
I was also interested to see quite a bit of Cintique furniture for sale--guess what we're in the process of refinishing/re-upholstering for the Struan Farm Knitting Studio? Post on and pics of that with more information when it's ready to be unveiled...

 

 

Road Trip- Part Deux

Wednesday this past week I travelled down to Hokitika via Christchurch, which as you probably know was recently rocked with a major (7.1) earthquake. The weather forecast was terrible for the entire week, with strong winds and heavy rain and/or snow down to low levels. As a reasonably frequent traveller I try to be as accepting as possible of whatever the universe decides to dish out on a journey. Air NZ scheduled a larger plane than normal for the flight over the Southern Alps, and also seated all of the passengers in the back half of the aircraft; so we knew we were in for a bumpy ride. We arrived to gale force winds and rain going sideways.

But when the Coasters acknowledged that it was quite a blow, that was saying alot. I fell asleep to the sound of the roaring surf, waking up to this view early the next a.m.:

 
 
 p.s. Hokitika has a lovely Craft Gallery Co-operative (http://www.hokitikacraftgallery.co.nz), Glass Studio, and Sock World & Sock Knitting Museum (!), all worth checking out. The latter has an extensive collection of antique sock knitting machines from the USA, Canada, and Britain. In addition to producing lots of socks for sale, the owner also fabricates new sock knitting machines and retails them worldwide.  We all have our passions, n'est-ce pas?

 

 

Road Trip-Part One

This past week I have been away from both the farm and Papakura, travelling on business trips to Hawera and Wanganui on the North Island and Hokitika and Nelson on the South Island. One of the things I enjoy about my job is being able to travel to towns around provincial NZ, since it allows me to learn more about these communities and the regions. If I manage to arrive early for a meeting, I use the time to wander the town centre, since it gives me a good feeling for the local economy and community engagement.

In Hawera this week I discovered an "op shop" on the high street with bins of knitting patterns, and two lovely elderly ladies who offered me both a chair and a "cuppa," amused that someone would actually take the time to go through ALL of those knitting patterns!

My favorite find was an issue of Vogue Knitting circa 1968:

 
It includes these two rather fun patterns:

 
Not sure exactly when we stopped wearing bright pink lipstick with orange, but we did. Those were the days!

 

 

 

 

Rosemary's Kitchen

My mother-in-law Rosemary (aka "Mil") was an excellent cook. According to her children, her bread rolls were renowned throughout the District (this is possibly/most likely an exaggerated claim, but apparently anyone who tried them loved them).

Rosemary had a wicked sense of humor, often encouraging her sons to pull pranks on townies visiting the farm. She was very well read, and wrote poems to commemorate family occasions. Recently we found the following in her handwriting:

"Let the wealthy and great roll in splendour and state

I envy them not I declare it.

I eat my own lamb, my own chickens and ham,

I shear my own fleece and wear it.

I have lawns, I have bowers,

I have fruits, I have flowers.

The lark is my morning alarm.

So jolly boys now

Here's God speed the plough

Long life and success to the farmer."

She turned out meals for a family of seven and breakfasts, lunches and tea breaks for the shearing gangs, so was used to cooking for large crowds from her tiny, narrow kitchen. In the early years, she cooked on a coal range.

I remember her biscuits and jams/jellies-- excellent bran and malt biscuits, raspberry jam, marmelade, and red currant jelly. 

John and I spent most of the past weekend getting the new kitchen organized in the Homestead. We mused that it was a kitchen that she would have enjoyed using. Hence our decision to name it "Rosemary's Kitchen." We will frame and hang the early photograph of her below, which was taken before her marriage, so that she might supervise all that occurs. 

I Have a Thing for Rustic Benches

We have lots of benches at Struan Farm: around the gardens, at the pond, and at the Cottage. I like the idea of people being able to wander around and then sit and contemplate. Maurie was pleased that I liked to rehabilitate wooden benches and chairs that he'd made, but I've also acquired a few made by other artisans to add to the collection. 

 

 
 
John seriously dislikes my most recent rustic acquisition; it was made from an old, rather solid, totara fence post. It's very heavy, and he hates the thought of having to shift it around.

 
It was somewhat controversial years ago when I painted the bench for the pond a bright blue. Of course shortly thereafter that color was in all of the gardening magazines. I don't know how I anticipate these trends, but I do. One thing I hadn't quite thought about is that you really do need to touch up the paint jobs annually, need to add that to my "to do" list.

In Piopio, It Takes A Village

Piopio is a small village located in an area of NZ's North Island called the King Country, south of the major tourist attraction Waitomo Caves and northeast of the Taranaki coastline. The countryside has beautiful rolling farmland, picturesque limestone formations, and stands of native bush.

It was named after an extinct native thrush, hence the bird in the logo:

 
While located on a main thoroughfare, State Highway 3, the area is somewhat off the beaten track, except for those travelling to and from New Plymouth or those wanting to explore the rural countryside.  We're about three hours from Auckland and two or so hours from New Plymouth, so close enough for a weekend visit from either direction.

Like most small towns it has had a challenge maintaining itself as a viable if small centre, but the presence of a primary school, college, petrol station, public golf course, farm stores, dairies (corner stores), local orchard and vets practice all have helped. Historically the town has  been known for having clean public toilets (!) beside a nice park with big trees, picnic tables, and outdoor play equipment for children-- a good spot for drivers to stop for breaks in their journeys.

But the most important factor behind Piopio's survival has been the families who continue to live in and support the community, often through several generations, and their commitment to promoting a renaissance of the village however that might be possible.

This activism has included new artwork by local artist Jo Gallagher, known for her work featuring rural life, an upgraded info centre, brochures, and new signage.

 

 

Piopio Orchard, which grows delicious strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries, has continued to upgrade its seasonal offering with fruit ice creams, smoothies, muffins and coffee. In summer virtually every car travelling the road pulls into their gate.

A hair salon and Alpaca Shop have opened, and a popular monthly Sunday market has started that is attracting good crowds, both locals and passersby. We stopped by on Sunday, and ended up buying some "pikopiko" (native fiddle head ferns) in addition to goodies for John. There are vendors selling high quality fresh homemade bread and other baked goods, veggies, jams, soaps, and crafts.

 

 
But the biggest impact perhaps has been seen from a new cafe called "The Fat Pigeon." Melanie Simpson, a well known local chef and caterer, and her sister-in-law Jo decided to take a risk and open the cafe in somewhat challenging economic times, with backing from a group of committed local investors. The risk taken by all involved has been more than vindicated: The Fat Pigeon has been a huge success, winning both awards and loyal clientele.

 

  In addition to excellent food, did I say that they serve great Ozone coffee?

 

Easy Listening

John and I have pretty eclectic taste in music. We're not that keen on rap/hip hop, but listen to just about anything else. We both tend to blast tunes when motoring on major painting projects, both inside and out.

We've discovered that we have different audiences at the farm depending on the music we play. The fantails love classical (especially Mozart), while the tuis favor opera, tending toward Sandrine Piau and Filippa Giordana. They linger in the garden and sing along.

Our funniest experience happened when we had young calves in the paddocks surrounding the Cottage. They had been hand raised, so were used to being around humans, curious, and inclined to explore. They would do mischievous things like surround my car in the drive and lick the mirrors. When we played classical music they would evacuate the area, but as soon as we turned on the Dixie Chicks, they came running en masse, going so far as to peer in the Cottage windows!

I guess country music is either in your blood, or not.

Jim's Hut

Jim Ngaroma was a Maori fencer who worked on Struan Farm for over twelve years, at a time when it was a much bigger property. John and his siblings remember that he rode a huge Clydesdale horse, that he kept in a paddock with a long dangling rope around its neck for ease of capture and saddling. He would ride around the farm with bags of fencing staples on either side of his saddle and a hand carved wooden rammer.

He lived in a small cottage, which is still in existence today and still called "Jim's Hut," although it is now used for storage. He placed the same order with Rosemary each week for the butcher in Piopio, one that she could still recite from memory in her later years. He had gout so badly that John recalls he sometimes had to cut the gum boots off his swollen feet. All of them remember that he called many things "whatchamacallit" since English was his second language.

When Jim retired he moved away to live with family, leaving his carved rammer as a gift to John. Rosemary and Maurie attended Jim's "tangi" in Waimiha after he died.

 

Calling Antiques Roadshow

Last Saturday night John and I went into Te Kuiti from the farm to have dinner with his sister Anna and brother Carrick who was visiting from Lake Rotoiti.

I took the opportunity to get them talking about stories of growing up on the farm, confessing that I wanted fodder for future Struan Farm blog posts. It was interesting to hear their stories, since with only a few years age difference between them they remembered different things about different events and people.

Anna went into a closet and dug out this incredible "objet" below, used for serving soft boiled eggs, given to her by her mum Rosemary. We all suspect it was most likely given to them as a wedding present after the War, since it is unlikely that Rosemary would have given away a Robertson family relic without Maurie's approval.

It is marked "D&G Holy & Co., Sheffield" with the number 748. The egg cups are all numbered 1114, four of them have a reverse "c" or half moon, while two have either a pineapple or Scottish thistle mark.

One can only imagine an extravagant breakfast with soft boiled eggs served in this! I encouraged Anna to schedule a brunch for friends and deploy it for dramatic effect if nothing else.  But where are the experts from The Antiques Roadshow when you need them?

 

 

 

The Rabbit Test

Long ago when women thought they were pregnant they went to the doctor and had a "rabbit test." If they found out they were pregnant, the catch phrase was "the rabbit died."

My rabbit test did not involve pregnancy, however.

I arrived in NZ to live with John on Sept. 8, 2001. A few days before the horrendous events of 9/11 that rocked the world. Later that week John and I travelled down to the farm so that I could meet his parents and see the farm for the first time. Despite years of travelling to NZ, I had never been to the King Country before.

It was a warm, sunny spring day, so lunch was served outside on the terrace overlooking the garden. The camelias and rhodos were in full bloom. I'm sure I was a source of curiousity and much discussion within the family (and probably still am!), but John's parents welcomed me graciously into the family. I noticed a rabbit nibbling grass in the garden and commented upon that. While John and his mum and I continued to chat over cups of tea, Maurie excused himself and went off to do something.

A few moments later a shot rang out from behind my back, and the rabbit lay dead on the lawn. Now, I'd grown up in a small town with a father and brother who hunted game for food (not sport), so was used to a hunting rifle in the house. I'd also travelled enough around NZ to know that both rabbits and possums were officially considered pests, and were a scourge and major problem on many farms.

So I wasn't all that fazed by what had happened, and commented to Maurie that he'd made a good shot. Initially I thought that he had done this to show off his vintage Winchester firearm and crack marksmanship, both of which he had to the end of his life.

But as I got to know him better, I realized that it had been a test for the girl from LA, to see if she was going to cut the mustard in Piopio.

As he got to know me better, I trust he learned I can cut the mustard.

Wool Shed Graffiti

During the time John and I were at work renovating The Cottage, an old wool shed down the road was scheduled for demolition. We were invited to go scavenging to take whatever we might be able to put to use and went off to explore with some tools and the trailer.

We returned to the farm with old windows, a neat old door with a vintage Lister shearing poster, and most importantly for The Cottage project, a decent supply of rustic boards decorated with shearing stencil marks. Shearing gangs had a tradition of "tagging" the walls of each wool shed with their names and the year they worked there.

We used both the door and these boards to construct the toilet at The Cottage, preserving this bit of local history. Dates go as far back as 1937.

 

Arthur and Grace

At Struan Farm we are still old school, doing the "lambing beat" in the mornings during the season when lambs are born. We try to make sure any lambs rejected by their mums are picked up and looked after. Not all farmers do this, since it isn't an economic proposition to bottle feed lambs, but for us it is about animal welfare.

During Maurie's last official year as a farmer, we had two pet lambs named Arthur and Martha (pronounced Ar-thur and Mar-thur). Martha eventually moved back to the flock from the pet paddock, but Arthur had a bit of a personality, and we wanted to keep him as a pet longer than would ordinarily be the case due to visitors coming.

I had friends coming to see us from California, and wanted their kids especially to enjoy interacting with a pet lamb. So Arthur was kept on as a pet. He loved being scratched on the head, and wasn't shy about coming up and giving you a butt to get that attention.

When the Olinskis arrived at the farm, their daughter Grace forged a special relationship with Arthur. He would come running to the gate of the pet paddock whenever she called him, and he took to eating cookies and plums out of her hand. And not just any cookies, but Trefoil Girl Scout cookies all the way from the USA!

The kids climbed trees, their father John drove the tractor, and we all walked down to the river for a picnic, swimming and fishing. We picked plums and made plum crumble. But Arthur was the big hit (okay, the sheep munching away on the Piopio golf course were also a source of amusement).

Once they left Arthur was released to run with the mob. But every so often when I walked past the sheep one would stand apart and look back at me. I figured that was Arthur missing Grace and wanting a pat and a Girl Scout cookie!

Painting below by Piopio artist Jo Gallagher, which we've re-christened "Arthur."

Introducing Clifford

Our dog Clifford is a blue heeler/border collie cross. He's got farm dog genes so loves rural life, but started his life as a townie. His family of origin included several children, hence his name from the canine star of the children's book series "Clifford the Big Red Dog."

When his family decided to relocate from NZ to Dubai, they arranged for his adoption. But the day before departure they learned that this person intended to drop him on the doorstep of the SPCA. Not a fate one would want for a beloved pet if it could be avoided. John intervened, offering to take him down to the farm to live with Maurie, who at that point was quite frail but still living on his own with an aged sheep dog.

Clifford and John made the journey together to Piopio in the car, something I believe was a bonding experience for them both. It became clear that Clifford was never really Maurie's dog. Maurie knew that by the dog's excited reaction to our arrival on weekends and told us so.

When Maurie left the farm to go into managed care for health reasons, the discussion became what to do about Clifford. I lobbied for us to keep him despite a small backyard in Papakura, knowing that he would have weekends at the farm and live there full time eventually. John wasn't so sure, and tried to find him another home.

I knew I'd won the debate when John arrived home one day with Clifford and the trailer loaded with a brand new dog house, the cost of which would have been (for John) an exhorbitant amount of money to spend on a dog. I was told that I was responsible for his care and feeding, he was MY DOG.  Yea, right.

Clifford has since become a much loved if complicated member of our family, getting chauffered between the farm and Papakura, where he is scheduled for medicated baths at the vet to treat his sensitive skin prone to messy allergic rashes. He is known there as a bit of a drama queen, but compensates by giving the girls chocolates at Christmas.

He swims in the pond but his major responsibilities are catching rabbits and possums, both of which are pests.  He also loves helping John move the sheep between paddocks.

 

The Tractor Stays

As you've most likely figured out from previous posts, my in-laws were quite frugal. They maintained and repaired things if at all possible. (This was true for everything but Maurie's cars, which for some reason he purchased new every few years.) The concept of not trying to repair a broken piece of machinery or electronic gear was alien to them, they had a hard time accepting our modern "throw away" society or the fact that it might be less expensive to buy something new than find someone skilled to do required repair work. A bit of this undoubtedly due to the Kiwi DIY mentality.

As a result our farm tractor is a reliable yet vintage David Brown 850. I'm sure the folks at Piopio Honda smile when they see it brought in for work, since most of the farmers in the area have shiny new tractors and quad bikes. My father-in-law continued to ride his old two wheel farm bikes up to a year or so of his death at age 89, with an incident or two down the hills near the river that required the intervention of neighbors coming to his aid...

So while a quad bike is probably in our future for jobs around the farm, and John lusts after a small digger to help make farm tracks, lift stones, and pull out tree stumps, we both know the tractor stays.

 
 

 

Weekend Update: It's Official, Spring has Sprung

While John is working locally and living at the farm, I am still straddling town and country to help earn income while we finish major infrastructure and renovation work on the property. So it's interesting for me to return after four/five days away and see how much has changed in the interim.

This weekend I spent most of the time inside, hanging vintage black & while photographs of NZ sheep herds on the mudroom walls, assembling a bookcase for the knitting studio, and getting ready for the kitchen installation Thursday.

Friends decided to come over for afternoon tea on Saturday to see our latest progess, so I ventured outside to walk down to the Cottage to get that organized. As I stepped out the door, I heard tuis croaking and looked up to see five tuis feasting on the nectar of the yellow blossums of our Kowhai tree, just having a ball!

This was my official omen, spring has sprung in Piopio:

 
 

We All Could Be Mad Hatters

I watched Tim Burton's "Alice In Wonderland" on a recent flight from LA to Auckland, and thoroughly enjoyed both the parallel universe and the "girl power" ending.

Johnny Depp was great as the Mad Hatter.

I also have gone a bit mad for knitted, felted hats after stumbling upon designer Lisa Cruse on Ravelry, where she has a group called Ambrosia Cottage. I've ended up knitting two of her "Vivian" hats, which are fun and easy to make. South Seas Knitting sells the Cascade 220 yarn called for here in NZ. The hats are quick to knit and then felt in the washing machine. An explanation on how to do so is in the Techniques section of Lisa's website. But creativity really comes into play with the embellishment--ribbon or fabric roses, beading, needle felting-- the options are up to you.

Lisa has been kind enough to share the following pics of her work:

 

 
 

Patterns can be purchased via her website, http://www.lisacruse.com 

Laurie Leonard, aka "fuzzpotgirl" on Ravelry, has also shared some pics of a few of her completed hat projects. The first is Lisa's "Nellie Crush" pattern that Laurie calls "Bronte Felted Beret"

 

Laurie also has made a cute two color version of Lisa's "Vivian" pattern:

 

Check out "fuzzpotgirl's" website, http://www.fuzzpotlane.co.uk as well as Laurie's work on Ravelry, since she does other felted projects aside from beautiful hats.

Lisa and I are conspiring on a possible workshop at Struan Farm Knitting Studio in due course, and it turns out that Laurie also has family in NZ so may lured down here as well. 

In the meantime be inspired by their work, and consider becoming a Mad Hatter by joining the Ambrosia Cottage group on Ravelry.

One, Two, Buckle My Shoe

Along with vintage knitting patterns, I've been stashing retro buckles and buttons for the past several years in anticipation of doing something creative and knitting/fibre arts related at Struan Farm.

Perhaps I've just been ahead of the sustainability trend in wanting to reuse and recycle?

At the risk of sounding like my father-in-law stockpiling for a rainy day, I do think it's nice to use older, often better quality design elements in new handmade projects. Sometimes they are the inspiration for the project rather than vice versa.

Some buckles destined for the Knitting Studio below. I especially like the butterscotch bakelite ones, may have to hide those.

 

Vintage Knitting Glam

In my travels around NZ over the past several years I've been collecting vintage knitting patterns, preferable old black and white, dating back to the 1940's, 50' and 60's. The 60's really almost for the hair styles and poses alone.  I've stayed away from the 1970's since that is too close to home, and can't be retro just yet, can it?

The patterns typically cost 10 cents to $1 in local Salvation Army or Hospice shops, and I've framed some as art for the walls of Struan Farm Knitting Studio.

The look is certainly glamorous, don't you think? Initially the framing person thought I was odd for doing this, but even he began to see them as art, either elegant or kitschy as the case may be. 

Some samples below. "Rosemary" in black & white below looks a bit Audrey Hepburn-esque.