Struan Farm

Peace, Joy & Extended Vacation

Merry Christmas to all!  I am down at Struan Farm and will be taking a break from daily blogging until I return to action 17 January 2011. I'll be back with lots of photos and stories in the New Year.

 

Holiday Baking

Growing up my family really didn't have all that many traditions, but I do remember my mother baking cream cheese Christmas cookies and sour cream coffee cake for Christmas. We had the latter after church on Christmas morning before our late afternoon Christmas dinner, which was turkey with all of the trimmings. 

Making Christmas cookies was an annual ritual. My sister, brother and I all participated in decorating and eating the cookies that were made with a press in different shapes (trees, wreaths, snowflakes). The cookie press only came out of the closet once each year for this particular recipe. Decorations included sugar sprinkles, chocolate chips, and candied/glace cherries.

Last year I decided to test both of these American family traditions in New Zealand with the Robertson family; they were enjoyed, so I'll continue. I must confess that it makes me happy to pass these on to the next generations in another country.

I thought this was our unique family tradition until I went to search for the recipe on the internet and found a number of versions. So perhaps other families (late baby boomers like myself) also share this particular tradition.  

 
Since it's summer here in the Southern Hemisphere, we tend to combine Northern Hemisphere traditional Christmas cooking (turkey or ham, Christmas pudding, etc.) with warm weather fare (fresh strawberries, pavlova, BBQ). Most of the country is on vacation for at least the two week period given the public holidays.

So I've also baked other goodies for our Boxing Day buffet lunch in the garden and our extended vacation period (or rather our extended work stint!) at Struan Farm. People tend to stop in, and it's nice to whip out homemade cookies or cake for morning or afternoon tea, which we still observe here in NZ. We also have a fair number of impromptu buffet lunches on the deck or out in the garden, with or without visitors-- it's good to have a stash of baked goods for those.

I've made a few American classics, Nestle's "Original Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookies," and Quaker Oat's "Vanishing Oatmeal Raisin Cookies," along with the Kiwi classic "Anzac Biscuits" and our friend Mary Spellman's "Jam Gems."

 
 

I'll bake sour cream coffee cake from The Silver Palate Cookbook tonight (this recipe is very similar to the cake my mother made) so it's fresh for Christmas and Boxing Day morning tea; it's moist and keeps well for several days. 

P.S. I've been adhering to the low carb, low sugar South Beach Diet regime since June, and am leaner for it, so this Christmas baking definitely isn't for me!

Clandestine Messages

I am obviously more than ready for Christmas and more than ready for an extended holiday (or shall I say extended stint of hard labor) at Struan Farm.

This morning I found the following quote scribbled on a piece of paper in my home office desk drawer:

"Enter each day with the expectation that the happenings of the day may contain a clandestine message addressed to you personally. Expect omens, epiphanies, casual blessings, and teachers who unknowingly speak to your condition." -- Sam Keen

 
I'm not sure who Sam is or was, but I like to think the universe or our creator does send us messages. So later in the day when I was sitting having a coffee so I didn't fall asleep in the dentist's chair, I noticed the following on the cafe wall:

Lead don't follow;

Go where you want to go and you'll never look back;

Make decisions rather than take orders;

Play the tune rather than follow the piper;

Make history or herstory; 

Life is what you make of it.

Except for the history/herstory thing, I'm inclined to interpret this as a clandestine message addressed to me personally. What do you think?

 

Resolved for the New Year

As an adult I've always made resolutions on New Year's Eve. It's a way of ending the old year, thinking about what transpired, what I accomplished, what I would have done differently, and the year ahead. Perspective, really.

For the New Year I try to think not just about projects, rather more about what I want to learn or improve upon in my life, whether that be a skill/craft, subject or practice.

I figure if I stop learning and/or creating I'll atrophy. And I can't have that.

John takes a somewhat different view. Our first New Year's Eve we had a glass of bubbles at 9 p.m. and wrote our resolutions together before heading off to bed, night owls that we are. I thought it was great that we had done these jointly as a couple plus I had my own personal goals and aims for the next year per usual.

Well, the following year John announced that he had come to view resolutions as Karen's "To Do List" and decided he wasn't going to participate. So that year I took my little book, pouted and sniffed, and did my own, keeping them private, thank you.

I persist with making New Year's resolutions for myself each year; they're important to me. I want to keep learning and growing, and this is one way for me to think about what I want to do with my life and how to go about it. Other people can do that however they see fit. What works for me doesn't work for everyone, clearly!

Some 2011 resolutions I'm thinking about:

• Learn/perfect my digital photography skills (aka the new EOS camera) along with Adobe Photoshop;
• With help from the professionals, learn to set up and maintain our Struan Farm website;
• Finish our marketing collateral for the farmstay and Struan Farm Knitting Studio;
• Take photos around the farm in different seasons, times of day, and weather;
• Develop a list of ideas for knitting workshops and retreats in 2012, contact teachers who might be interested, figure out the business model;
• Improve our social network marketing, which is feeble/improvised at best;
• Set up a Ravelry group for Struan Farm Knitting Studio when appropriate (thanks Lisa Cruse for this suggestion!);
• Make an outdoor BBQ out of our recycled bricks, and don't give up on that pizza oven either;
• Plant our flatto peach tree in winter, on order from Mapua Country Trading;
• Needlepoint, needlepoint, needlepoint: flax pew cushions, Christmas stockings for Ella and Olivia;
• Learn artisanal cheesemaking;
• Have TWO knitters retreats with the ladies at the farm in 2011.
• Last but not least (rather first and foremost), lavish love and attention on John.

Gosh, if my resolutions are already done, maybe I can call it a New Year and just drink bubbles with John....

 

 

 

 

 

Mark's So Called Creating Futures Scarf

A work colleague recently left NZ to move with his young family back to the U.K. I felt badly that he was leaving the emerging warmth of summer here to head into a very snowy and cold winter in England. Not the best timing, but the universe offered a job in a difficult economy.

He and I shared both the same chiropractor as well as an inclination to get into the office at the crack of dawn, so we'd had quite a few early morning chats. I decided the least I could do would be to knit him a scarf as a belated farewell gift. Of course in our company color:

 
I'm knitting it in Manos del Uruguay's Wool Clasica in a buttery golden yellow (color Z), which is working really well. The pattern is Allison Isaac's So Called Scarf, available on ImagiKnit's website. It's pictured in Manos Silk Blend on her website. I bought the yarn from South Seas Knitting.

It's coming Mark. I won't have it finished in time for Christmas, but I'll have it posted off in time for January, the cruelest month. I've heard the latest weather reports in the U.K. and wish you all the best.

Vintage Kiwi Knitting

I keep finding these vintage knitting needle boxes in "op shops" around the country:

 
The Anglican and Hospice op shops in particular tend to have good knitting stockpiles, but never count out The Salvation Army, St. Vincent de Paul, or the Methodists either!

The first one of these needle boxes I found in Te Puke (Bay of Plenty), the second one in Tauranga (also Bay of Plenty) and the third in Te Kuiti (King Country). My current quest on these is to see how many different colors I can find.

What's also interesting to me is that most vintage knitting items found here tend to be from the Mother Country, i.e., England. In this case, these were manufactured by a company named Continental Plastics Pty Ltd., Melbourne, Australia, but all three also have the same black stickers that say "New Zealand Made."  The front of the box has a ruler in inches, which dates them to before 1969, when NZ commenced an eight year conversion from the imperial to metric system.

Stand By Great Pumpkin

I've got some good news and some bad news. Most of the pumpkins I've planted are growing:

 
All that is except Musquee de Provence. Marina di Chioggia, the Minis, and Autumn Harvest are all doing well, but the ones I really wanted to have, and basically planted this patch for, haven't raised their heads. I think the phrase in French (if I'm remembering my grammar school and Smith College French properly) is "pas de seule," not one.  It could be that when John dropped something on the patch right after I'd planted the seeds this offended their French sensibility, and they've decided not to appear.

I'm bummed, but I'll get over it. Zut alors.

Still Life: Larch Cones

In my weekend wandering at Struan Farm I came across these delicate boughs of Larch cones:

 
 
There's a bank of Larches near the Cottage that always turn golden in autumn. When I got back to the Homestead, out came Stirling Macoboy's "What Tree is That?" along with our other reference guides. The needles are arranged like "rosettes in small spurs."  I wanted to make sure these were properly referred to as "cones," which they are.

Random Images: Struan Farm

I've shot some images around Struan Farm with my point and shoot that I'm liking and wanting to share. The new EOS 5D Mark II is coming out in the New Year; I'll be spending three weeks at the farm, taking a break from blogging and shooting lots of images.

The images are all copyrighted December 2010 and are random: 

 
 

 
 

 
 
Maurie used the wooden crook above to help ewes delivering in breech; he carried his docking and other lambing supplies in the worn canvas bag. 

 
Below is my weekend's jar of posies from the garden-- the white viburnum buds have just come out:

 
 
While my compositions still aren't what they used to be, I am starting to "see" again with a photographer's eyes, so am hoping the EOS is just what the doctor ordered.

 

Heirloom Fig: The Alpha Male

Further to my previous post "The Tale of the Heirloom Figs," it seems the cutting that did not get nibbled by the sheep, the one that was planted in the main Homestead garden, is thriving:

 
There was some discussion about transplanting it to the Orchard, but we've since decided to keep it here as a feature tree. It did survive a tree falling into the garden on top of it. I christen it "The Alpha Male."

The Fisherman's Cabin

John intends to build a "Fisherman's Cabin" overlooking the Mangaotaki River with this view:

 
He will be working to grade a track that can be driven by 4WD or car to get here. I suspect he also views it as a potential refuge from Karen, when she's hunting him down with her list of work projects!

Seriously, we'd both like to have a more rustic "bach" on part of the property, for fishermen or anyone who might enjoy more basic accomodation with an amazing outlook. I suspect these won't be knitters, but who knows?

The Old Road

Present day Struan Farm encompasses part of the old original State Highway. Maurie did a land swap with the government roading department, giving them part of his farm for the new State Highway route in exchange for land on the Old Road.

 
The "Old Road"  now forms part of a walkway starting near the Bull Paddock up from the pond to an area overlooking the Mangaotaki River that also looks out to a wire suspension bridge now owned by our neighbors (this area was once part of Struan Farm). 

 
John has promised to fill me in on the history of the bridge and explain the activities that took place down there. There are the remnants of a concrete pen where sheep were dipped.

The Old Road itself is an easy short (return) walk along macrocarpa and pine trees on one side and fern laden banks and native bush on the other. Native fan tail, tui, and wood pigeon can be heard and seen. The road also forms part of a longer river loop track for more intrepid walkers and anyone wanting to fish, swim or kayak in the river. The old seal can be partially seen, it's a bit of local and Struan Farm history.

 
 
John and Carrick remember that when the new road was blasted through they'd go out to hunt for fossils, imprints of shells and leaves embedded in the limestone unearthed by the excavation.

We've got the correspondence between Maurie and the government on the land swap on file in case any questions were ever to arise!

The Pet Paddock

You've probably figured out by now that most things at Struan Farm have names. This includes all of the paddocks around the property, something undoubtedly done originally so that the sheep and cattle could be moved around and kept track of.

The paddock closest to our main entrance at the Homestead and gardens is called "The Pet Paddock," since this is where pet lambs were/are kept so they can be (conveniently) bottle fed from the Homestead. 

 
John's sister Anna reminded us this weekend that it was once three separate paddocks, one of which was called "Susan's Southdown Stud" where she raised Southdown sheep and kept her pet lambs (I also learned her middle name is Susan!). The second was where the riding ring was set up with striped wooden poles and tea tree fences as jumps.

There are also "The Bull Paddock," "The River Paddock," "The Pond Paddock" and "The Cottage Paddock," amongst others. Most have location specific names so that just about anyone could find them without difficulty. Practical, not particularly inspired or romantic.  That being said, on part of the original farm property there was an area called the "Never Nevers," which to me sounds far more adventurous and conjures up visions of Peter Pan.   (I don't want to grow up, I don't want to grow up, not me!)

For years the Pet Paddock was dominated by a row of huge poplars that along with similar trees across the road created an avenue effect on this section of the Main Highway. Apparently it was a landmark for anyone coming to visit Struan Farm.

While a number of the poplars are now gone, the paddock remains home to a variety of majestic trees. The inhabitants include Oaks:

 
 
A Chestnut, which had a mishap a few years ago and split in half, but is still rather imposing. When it flowers I sniffle and sneeze ferociously, like right now:

 
A huge Ginkgo that turns a brilliant gold in autumn:

 
 Two Walnuts, who share their bounty in autumn:

 
 

John and I checked our tree reference books to make sure that these are indeed Swamp Cypress. The botanical name is Taxodium, which means "like a yew." I especially love the textural trunks:

 
 
After installing recycled french doors on the side of the Homestead that looks out onto that side of the garden, and after several sunset dinners looking out across to the trees in the evening light, we've decided to open up the view to those trees a bit more.

It's the sort of landscape one can't create in one lifetime, rather a legacy to be looked after, shared, and passed on.

 

A Currant Affair

Sometimes when you take over a property that has been in a family a long time you have to make decisions that aren't easy.

One of those that John and I had to make was about Maurie's berry patch. He grew raspberries along with red and black currants for years. The raspberries were his pride and joy, he delivered them for Christmas dinner and picked and gave them as gifts to friends in his later years. There was always raspberry jam along with red currant jelly and sauce. Children and grandchildren were enlisted as pickers, if you didn't volunteer you were conscripted.

The berries were grown in a wooden framed enclosure that was covered with chicken wire to keep the birds out. Over the years it was buttressed by various means. Two years ago John and I decided that we had to take most of the frame down before it collapsed and injured someone, ourselves included. Carrick spent hours over several days one Christmas helping take down the roof and rolling up the wire. We also pruned the raspberries and currants way back at the end of that season.

 
This year we don't have many raspberries due to a raid by some hungry sheep, but the currants have come back, are ripening and look good.

 
We've decided this year that we'll take cuttings of the currants and grow them in a new berry patch/orchard closer to the new house site. While it's a bit sad to come to this decision, it is a way for us to preserve the family berry legacy.

New Piopio Brochures

Piopio has just published two new brochures with more information on activities in the surrounding countryside, "Scenic Routes and Loop Roads" and "Hiking and Walking Tracks:"

 
 
The latter includes short walks in the area along with longer hikes in the Whareorino Conservation Area and tramping tracks in Tawarau Forest.

The former includes the drive down the Forgotten World Highway to Whangamomona, which goes through amazing country. Yet another example of how close these remote places are here in New Zealand. Whangamomona has a great old pub that adds to the adventure. John and I made the trip during our Christmas break a few years ago, and are thinking we need to do it again.

The new Piopio website should be up and running soon with this info available online as well.

 

Wellywood Arrives in Piopio

We'd heard a rumor last weekend but this week it was confirmed in our local "Waitomo News" that New Zealand film maker Sir Peter Jackson and his crew visited a farm in the nearby Mangaotaki Valley, up river from Struan Farm, to scout a possible filming location for The Hobbit. They arrived in choppers last week.

Principal photography begins in February. Fingers and toes are crossed.

Piopio and Struan Farm will be ready Sir Peter, and of course we've read the book, it's available on Fishpond!

 

Arms Wide Open

John and I recently noticed that the large oak tree on the other side of the tennis court at Struan Farm looks to be welcoming everyone with open arms:

 
 
What is missing from the picture are the wild turkeys roaming up the hill in the background, they've delivered eleven new babies in the past week.

 

True Blue

Driving into Piopio from the north on Friday night I passed by Piopio Orchard and saw the good news:

 
They were closed for the day by the time I drove by, but after our successful tractor adventure on Saturday a.m. I went over to purchase and sample the first of the season.

 
They are really big and sweet for this early in the season. I just love my antioxidants.

 

The Tractor goes to Town

I arrived at the farm on Friday night to learn that John was going to drive our vintage David Brown tractor into Piopio the next morning so that one, possibly two, tires could be replaced.

Struan Farm is 9.42k south of the village, on the main thoroughfare south, State Highway 3. It is a windy, picturesque road that does get a bit of traffic on weekends.

John was excited about the impending adventure, while I had visions of a major disaster given speeding motorists around windy bends.

I suggested that I follow behind with my car emergency flashers on, but he would have none of it. Saturday morning he did finally agree to wear a reflective vest.

John and the tractor went out the gate at 8 a.m. at warp speed 30k per hour:

 
 
I was meant to wait a respectable amount of time and then follow, "just in case." We were going to have a celebratory coffee at The Fat Pigeon afterward. 

 
Arrived safely, phew! Only problem: return journey next weekend...

 

Happy Birthday John

Today is my dear husband's birthday.

 
 
Given that it's Monday, he's travelled up from the farm to Papakura so that we can celebrate together. There was a feeble attempt on his part to postpone or reschedule the event; there is a bit of a Robertson joke about birthdays sometimes being inconvenient. It's not an argument that flies with me: birthdays are birthdays and are meant to be celebrated on that special day, even if we don't make a huge deal out of it. John doesn't like huge deals or even presents for that matter. (Tools are okay.)

We're having dinner tonight at a wonderful restaurant called Agave, which is perched on rugged, windswept clifftops overlooking Karioitahi Beach in Waiuku. It's a drive out to the beach through rolling hills of green paddocks, not that far but a world away. A perfect place for a special evening. West Coast beaches on NZ's North Island all have black sand, and this is one of those. And like all West Coast beaches, the sea is turbulent and not that safe for swimming. Often race horses are brought here for training on the wide, open stretches of sand that go for miles (or shall I say kilometres?).

Early after we met John and I walked and talked together on this beach getting to know one another. John's daughter Sarah and her husband Matt got married at Castaways, the event venue and conference/accomodation facility at this special location. So it's a memorable place for us all.

What's particularly amazing in this extraordinary landscape is to watch the sun sink slowly into the sea at sunset. At Agave the entire restaurant pauses to watch in suspended animation. We experienced it for the first time with my friends Laura and Grace Olinski when they visited us from California, and again at Sarah and Matt's wedding. Both were magical moments. 

Happy Birthday John, thanks for making the effort to spend it with me at one of our special places. If it can't be Struan Farm this year, at least it can be Karioitahi Beach! xx