Struan Farm

Learning the Tricks of Musquee de Provence

Previously I've posted about the trials and tribulations (and pending triumphs) of my pumpkin patch at Struan Farm.

The only real problem I've experienced (to date) has been with a french variety called "Musquee de Provence," the reason I planted the patch in the first place! I'd seen this pumpkin last year at the Clevedon Farmer's Market, and fell in love with its deeply rutted, sculptural quality. So much so that I sought out the seeds at Kings Seeds and planted them along with several others for some variety.

I envisioned a cluster near the front door, looking very country and rustic.

Much to my dismay, none of these have grown while the others have thrived. Recently I saw Musquee de Provence pumpkins again at the Clevedon Farmer's Market, so spoke to the grower to learn what I'd done wrong.

 

Turns out that they are meant to be planted in October, much earlier than other varieties. I'd planted them in December. 

Alors, maintenant je sais pour l'annee prochaine..... 

The grower was selling the pumpkin in sections for cooking; I bought one, since he told me that I can dry and save the seeds to plant out next year, which I'll do. 

Sheep Magnate, or is that Magnet?

One lunchtime this past week I raced down to the LYS in the Auckland CBD to try to find yarn to knit "Inspira Cowl." I was keen to get this project on my needles as soon as possible.

Striding through the mall I looked into a shop and this is what caught my eye:

 

Sheep alert! How do I do this? As I was paying for what turned out to be a cushion cover covered in sheep, I also saw this:

  

It's a print of the Andy Warhol-esque sheep images that I already own in "tea towel," if "tea towel" can be described as a medium. Turns out my sheep tea towel artist had rented this shop on a short term basis to sell his work, one of his art students was working the till.

Not sure as yet if I'm going to use the pillow cover as envisioned or chop it up and use the stylized sheep for another project. I'm expecting the latter.

Lastly, just stumbled upon this photograph of 24 paper sheep in New York's Times Square by Brooklyn artist Kyu Seok Oh:

 
I'm not the only one into sheep, it seems to be a global phenomenon.

 

Inspired by "Inspira"

Yes, off on another knitting tangent.

You've heard it here first: "Inspira Cowl," adapted by "Celery Stalks" from "Evvvie's Pompom hat" design on Ravelry, looks to be the next big thing for knitters, at least for those of us on Ravelry.

I've been following its projectile-- it was released officially on Ravelry this past week after the "test knitting" phase with a cult following and squeals of delight. Last I checked, it was in 559 project queues. It is a free to the Ravelry community, just sign up if you're not already a member.

Cowls have been the next new thing for awhile, but this one is special, clearly, or I wouldn't be mentioning it. There are three versions depending on the weight of the yarn used with slight variations in design as a result: one in aran, one in fingerling, and a third in aran/bulky weight.

This feels a bit like the Brooklyn Tweed noro scarf phenom about to launch. I finished two of those and could have kept going but I ran out of family/friends really in need of scarves. 

I'm going to try "Inspira" in Manos Silk Blend, in a mix of multi and solid, but while I wait for that order to arrive I've dug into the stash and have started to play with this Yoshie by Naturally to see what it looks like and get a handle on the stitch pattern:

 
 

 

Once mine is further along, I'll post and show you what it looks like, since this snippet really doesn't show the pattern at all well (it's a grey day here and the photos are dark, I know). I wasn't able to get a pic of a finished project done by another knitter to be able to show you how beautiful it is, although I tried, I really did. Hard to believe, but sometimes knitters are shy about showing off their work, however fantastic.

Better get started or you'll miss the tsunami!

 

To Rhubarb or Not to Rhubarb: that is the question

Rhubarb has grown on me and is growing at Struan Farm as a result. We've got two different plants, one a large green variety and a second smaller red variety. The leaves have a high amount of oxalic acid, are supposedly poisonous and not meant for the compost heap under any circumstances.

It turns out "rhubarb" is muttered repeatedly by stage actors to simulate the impression of hubbub in a crowd. In more common usage, it can mean a quarrel or squabble. In the 1960's and 70's it meant nonsense, worthless stuff.

It's definitely not useless, worthless stuff to me, although I do think it's an acquired taste. (For example, I'm not sure I could eat stewed rhubarb myself, although many people do enjoy it.)

This past rainy weekend I decided to tackle a rhubarb dessert recipe to experiment. I had planned to make a maple rhubarb crumble pie, using Annabel Langbein's yummy crumble topping recipe from The Free Range Cook.  But when I went to look up ingredients for the topping, turns out she has an interesting recipe for individual rhubarb berry crumbles that also uses the same topping. Since John had just delivered some beautiful raspberries from Piopio Orchard, the decision was made.

 

 
The colors of the rhubarb and the raspberries together were so amazing I had to take two pictures. (I resist using the adjective "gorgeous," since it seems to be the exclamation mark du jour, but here I almost did.)
 

After sugar with a bit of cornflour is added to the fruit, the crumble topping is patted on top before baking. It can be served with whipped cream, creme fraiche, or ice cream along with additional fresh berries. 

 

I've made more than enough for everyone, so there shouldn't be a rhubarb either way.

New "Official" Piopio Tee Shirt

Angela and Mike, our friends at Piopio Orchard, have just had these tee shirts printed up with their Piopio bird logo:

 

As you will remember, the Piopio is an extinct native thrush.  The irony/humor in this relates to the fact that not too long ago there would have been questions about the survival prospects of Piopio Village itself.

Piopio extinct? We think not, or it wouldn't be joked about! And thanks to the efforts of people like Angela and Mike, Melanie, Jo and their team at The Fat Pigeon, and a committed group of community residents (I won't name names in case I miss anyone), the renaissance of Piopio is underway.

If you're looking for a great community in which to set up a small business (we keep thinking an artisanal cheesemaker would do really well with a shop on the main road, SH3), or a place to raise your family (with both primary school and college), this is the place for you....

Time for the chopping block.....?

I've posted previously about the wild turkeys we have roaming Struan Farm, and how this year their numbers have increased pretty dramatically.

 
They are now joining the ranks of pests, at least in my book. Seems they're coming into the garden and onto our decks at the Homestead when we're not around, and we now have evidence of that:

 
This is where I start to draw the line!

 

Convinced about Quince

John's sister Anna has quite a number of heirloom fruit trees on her property in nearby Te Kuiti, where she runs Tomo Potz B&B. These include a rather extensive bank of quince trees. I hadn't been familiar with this fruit before then, but it seems to be enjoying quite a resurgence in popularity.

 
 
This autumn's crop is plentiful, so I should have a good supply to play with. Anna makes quince jelly, and I've made quince paste and crumbles previously. But this year I want to be creative, to test if we might want to get a tree for our orchard at Struan Farm.

It turns out that quince is related to both apples and pears. It was used as a ritual offering at weddings by the ancient Greeks. The term "marmelade," originally meaning quince jam, is derived from the Portuguese word for the fruit, "marmelo." In the Middle East dried pits from the fruit are soaked in water and used as a remedy for sore throats and coughing. The fruit is also made into wine. 

This all sounds pretty good to me....

Along Troopers & Oparure Roads

We've got the option of two routes from Te Kuiti to Struan Farm. One is through the town, on SH3, while the other cuts around the town through rolling green hillsides. The distance is essentially the same, the one that goes via Oparure and Troopers Roads is windier and scenic with less traffic.

This past weekend I went down and returned this way to ogle the scenery:

 
 
Love the pink doors on this weathered wool shed, can only imagine this was due to the influence of a beloved little girl or perhaps surplus pink paint!

 
 
This is one of those routes where time to stop and smell the flowers, which I rarely do, is relaxing and fun.

Signs of Impending Harvest

I've been keeping an eye on the walnut trees to make sure we start harvesting nuts before the wild turkeys get to them first. They're starting to drop, although not in great numbers as yet.

 
My pumpkins are flowering wildly, with two rather large ones ahead of the pack:

 
 
They seem quite happy nesting on the black weed mat, are almost glowing, aren't they?

New Migrant

We had visitors this past weekend at Struan Farm, so when I arrived on Saturday morning I quickly shifted into my "hostess with the mostest" mode: unpacking groceries, cutting fresh flowers, and making Nigella's raspberry chocolate pavlova.

Once there was time for a pause after lunch, I went to check out the progress on John's Hut, which is being scraped and painted, and my veggie garden, which is groaning with tomatoes.

And there I saw floating on the pool:

 
I didn't know if Huey, Dewey or Louie had flown up from the pond, with a little cheeky help from John, or if we had an addition to the whanau.

Turns out Anna found her during a shed cleanout at her house and decided she should rejoin the flock at Struan Farm. I think her name is Tui, and she can shake up that cozy little trio down at the pond next weekend.

Inspiration Required: The Night Sky at Struan Farm

Creativity is a funny thing. I stumble upon certain items in my wanderings, like these doilies, and know they could be useful for a yet-to-be-determined project. They are beautiful, hand made, and cheap at the local op shops, at least until the day they become scare and less widely available once everyone's nana has cleaned out her house.

 
 
While some are definitely too reminiscent of Nana's dresser or sofa for me, there are others that are more like snowflakes or stars, aren't they?

Which prompts me to think about the stars at Struan Farm, since we rarely if ever get snowflakes. The farm is far enough away from city lights to have a real night sky, although most often we are sound asleep by the time the show begins. 

This past weekend I had cause to be up late, however. Our little friend Clifford snuck off while we were having dinner with guests. He was nowhere to be found when we went outside to put him to bed. So I walked around outside, calling, calling, whistling, and calling for over an hour until he finally came running home with an exceedingly guilty look on his face. (We suspect we're probably down a turkey.) Until he reappeared I had plenty of time to ponder the night sky, including the Milky Way, in the darkness by myself.

The vast sky full of stars and the prospect of a lost, beloved pet tend to put unused doilies looking for a project into proper creative perspective. Their time will come.