Struan Farm

I'm on the Job, Freya

Given the rainy weather here at Struan Farm over the past two weeks I've had plenty of time to catch up on my ironing, reading and walnuts. It's also time to crack into granddaughter Freya's needlepoint Christmas stocking, she's next in line. I created this tradition, yes I did.

Freya saw the canvas when she visited Piopio from the U.K. this past Christmas, when brother Charlie received his stocking. While the element of surprise is special, we decided it was important for all of the grandchildren (and their parents) to understand how much work and love actually go into making these so that they are appreciated and treasured. John has specified that each grandchild must be old enough when they get theirs to understand all that. This dictate has actually bought me some time, although I do want to get everyone's done as soon as I can. 

This design is quite detailed, on finer canvas than I usually work. So it's taxing on both hands and eyes. This is going to take time, Freya! I'm not sure I'll get it all done in time for this Christmas, but I'll do my best. Progress is being made. It's sometimes easier to see that from the back.

Once I finish the painted part of the stocking I get out my handy "Alphabetrics" book, which has letters of the alphabet in various font styles graphed out, and stitch "Freya" across the top, filling in the background with an off white wool. This is the home stretch before I post it off to my friends in La Jolla, California for finishing, where they block the canvas and back the stocking with velvet, sew in a satin lining, and finish it with a twisted cord edge with tassels and bells.

MasterChef Australia is due to start shortly and that's good for a few hours of television and needlepoint several week nights. The finishing deadline at the Needle Nook of La Jolla is September. 

 

Commitments

You will remember I've been busy shelling walnuts here at Struan Farm. I've been trying to stick to my goal of one tray a day on rainy days, of which we've had quite a few. And I've stuck to that commitment, on average. If I miss a day I shell two trays the next to make up for it. I'm starting to see that light at the end of the tunnel, only eight more trays to go!

I've also been watching my diet per doctor's instructions to try to get my blood pressure down the natural way. Rather than adopt a monastic regimen that would prompt me to go off the wagon eventually, I've tried to come up with something I can live with longer term. One weekend night each week I give myself a break and allow dessert and nibbles. I have increased my intake of potassium rich foods that are meant to help, and eliminated salt. I haven't stopped drinking red wine, since the advice on whether it's beneficial or not depends on who you talk to and what you read. It's a programme John is happy with. We've always eaten healthy foods, lots of salads and veggies, but there were too many morning and afternoon teas, nibbles and desserts.  

Given that walnuts have been dominating my life at the moment I was interested to see a recipe for Walnut Pesto in the Viva section of the NZ Herald this week. We have gone through our ups and downs with basil pesto, the downs happening in reaction to having too much of a good thing after a bumper crop of basil in the glasshouse.

This pesto is served on bruschetta with blue cheese, warmed in the oven. It sounded rather too good to miss. I whipped a baguette out of the freezer to thaw, thinking this recipe would be a nice starter for Saturday night dinner. With the blue cheese in moderation, of course.

One cup of roasted walnuts, one cup parsley and one cup grated parmesan are put into the food processor with a clove of garlic, 1 tsp. lemon zest and 2 Tbs. lemon juice. Once this is processed 1/2 cup of good olive oil is drizzled in with the motor running. The pesto can be stored in a jar, although the recipe doesn't say for how long and if it needs to go into the fridge. (I wouldn't keep it for long unless frozen, and would put it in the fridge if you're not going to use it or freeze it.)

To make the bruschetta crumble blue cheese onto pesto topped toasted bread rounds, putting them in a pre-heated 170C oven for four minutes.

While it tasted good, the bruschetta was quite rich, really too rich for us. I'm thinking the pesto might be an interesting filling for homemade ravioli, or even rolled into scone scrolls/pinwheels, not that I'm indulging in the latter these days!

 

Summer Flowers in Winter Almost

I'm rolling a big boulder up a hill trying to put together flowers right now here at Struan Farm. It's only a brief time before the hellebores come out,  I can see them gathering their strength to bloom. At the moment I'm left with the last gasps of summer, transitional varieties like echinacea, snapdragons and nigella that hang on just that little bit longer. The flowers for our weekend dinner table are a case in point. The rain stopped briefly so I made a dash outside with jar and scissors in hand.

My moral dilemma is that I can't bring myself to pick a flower when I see a monarch butterfly around it sipping nectar. They are about to depart for wherever it is monarch butterflies congregate for winter here in NZ, and this one will need its strength for that journey. I also will not cut a flower with a hungry bee diving in. I leave those for my friends in the garden and find my flowers elsewhere. There should be enough for everyone here at Struan Farm.

Here's what I came up:

I'm happy to have them. It's not summer but then that's where we are. 

 

Moving Day, Sort Of

Big news: we actually saw the sun this past Saturday here at Struan Farm! It was a major cause for celebration.

It also meant it was time to move the ewes, who'd been munching away in the river paddock. This is the hardest paddock to move them from without a dog, since the sheep could be anywhere from the pines, the sandy beach and rapids, up top near the Bull Paddock, or down below by the river and our BBQ area under the trees. Sometimes they just can't hear us calling out, at least that's their excuse.

It was such a nice day that I decided to walk down the steep track. When I crossed the cattle stop into the paddock I felt quite a few eyes on me, wondering what I was up to, as I made my way down to the gate at the bottom. Three sheep were already in the next paddock, sitting on a hill in the sun. One of them was (guess who?) ROSIE. Of course. She knows how to get through the fences of several paddocks now, and must be teaching a few of her mates the tricks of the trade.

I called out and the mob came running down to the gate to go through to the next paddock. Rosie came barrelling down from her hillside perch to supervise, also to check if I had any apples for her. Everything went well, or so it seemed. I didn't see any other white dots down at the rapids, in the pines, or on the hills.

After panting my way up the zigzag track and crossing the cattle stop I looked up and saw three heads peering down at me. Rats! No, sheep! I called out to them but they weren't moving, so I left them there. When I got back up top I decided to count how many sheep were actually up there. 

It wasn't just three, it was more like twenty. A separate clique entirely.  Time to bring in the professionals. Over to you John!

Turkey Time

Thankfully not a post about another episode of Clifford chasing those feral turkeys and paying the consequences here at Struan Farm. We've had enough of all that, at least poor Clifford has. His back leg is recovering slowly thanks to monthly doggie anti-inflammatories.

I'm always on the lookout for fresh turkey at butcher shops around the traps here in New Zealand, and stock up the freezer when I can find it. Unlike Americans, who eat turkey in many different guises, Kiwis aren't all that used to eating and cooking turkey. It's a bit of a novelty, fresh turkey just isn't all that available. Like chicken here, it also isn't inexpensive when you do find it.

The good news is that Magills Butchery in nearby Te Awamutu has started to stock fresh, free range turkey, breasts and mince. They are purveyors of excellent beef and lamb, have won national awards a number of years. The butchers are always good about answering my off the wall questions when I find yet another interesting recipe using obscure or unavailable cuts. But they've told me that turkey is a "use it or lose it" situation, pretty much a test to see if there's enough demand. I'm trying to do my part.

John and I enjoy turkey meatloaf quite a bit. It's low fat, healthy and good. One loaf lasts for 2-3 meals, depending on John. I've adapted a turkey meat loaf recipe from the US that I make from memory at this point and can share with you.

Put one peeled, chopped onion and two crushed cloves of garlic in a saute pan with two tablespoons of butter (can use olive oil if you prefer, or a mixture of the two). Cook on medium heat for 5 minutes until the onions are soft and slightly caramelised. Remove from the heat and cool for 5 minutes while you mix up everything else. Put 800 grams-1 kg turkey mince in a bowl with one beaten egg, 1 cup breadcrumbs, 1/4 cup ketchup (we use the Heinz version with 50% less sugar and salt), 2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce, and seasoning to taste. I tend to use my hands for this, it's easier, but you can also use a fork. Once this is combined, mix in the cooled onion and garlic. Put this mixture into a loaf pan, pressing down and smoothing the top. (I use a pyrex glass loaf pan.) Coat the top with 1/2 cup ketchup and bake for one hour at 180C. Slice and serve. 

For this version I've played around with using puffed quinoa instead of the breadcrumbs to see how that changes the consistency and taste, if at all. It also makes it gluten free, if that's important to you. 

After trying this with puffed quinoa instead of the breadcrumbs I've decided that I prefer the breadcrumbs. It tasted fine, for me it was about consistency and absorption of liquid. But if you've got a food allergy by all means substitute puffed quinoa, it does work.

Leftover turkey meatloaf is great warm or cold in sandwiches/wraps. It's something just that little bit different.

The Winds Doth Blow

It's been a bit of a week on weather front here at Struan Farm in Piopio. Heavy rains, high winds, thunder, lightening. The sun shone briefly on Wednesday afternoon, "briefly" being the operative word.

I ventured outside to give Clifford his breakfast one morning and found the pottery plate that has graced the entrance to John's workshop shattered in pieces on the concrete drive. It had been blown off its holder by the winds.

This was a replica of one that hung outside his dad Maurie's workshop (now the Garden Cottage) for many years. I'd had it made for John as a Christmas present at a now defunct pottery studio in Nelson.

I'm sad about this. I know things happen, but still, I'm sad. I liked that we'd kept that link to the past in a small way. I might need to see what I can do to replace it in "due course."

Some Favourite Things

It's been raining here at Struan Farm this past week. Between downpours I looked out and saw glistening raindrops on several shrubs in the gardens. No raindrops on roses a la Sound Of Music, but beautiful raindrops nonetheless. I take my blog posts where and when I find them, often with thanks to Mother Nature!

On this image below you can actually see a reflection of me taking the photo if you look carefully enough at the largest drop. Amazing, at least to me.

Gone Bush

John and I took a stroll through one of our native QEII bush reserves the other day here at Struan Farm. He's been working to clean up and make bush tracks around the property so that they're easier for guests to see and follow, and wanted my feedback. We are obviously familiar with the place and know where to walk, but unless there's an obvious track it's harder for visitors to know where they're going. John has now edged most of this bush path with fallen ponga/tree fern pieces and cleared away fallen debris. It's a much better track than it was; he just needs to keep going to finish the job.

Along the way we discovered a colony of "Velvet Earthstar" fungi. Yes, fungi again. I've found at least one in this particular area for the past two years. This year we found seven, so they must be happy with the conditions in this area of the bush. "Velvet Earthstars" are lovely little puffballs that spread their spores when raindrops hit them. They're a favourite of mine because of their peculiar appearance, also their name, which hints they've dropped down from outer space for a visit.

I also got caught up with the repeating pattern of some lovely fallen tree fern fronts. 

They look almost like feathered wings flying in formation above, don't they?

In the wet, soft light they look almost coppery.

 

A Celebration of Citrus

It's that time of the year. Citrus isn't easy in Piopio with our hard frosts, but we manage to muddle through here at Struan Farm with hardier varieties like Meyer lemons and Satsuma mandarins planted in protected places. This year the trees look to be thriving, with heaps of fruit on our four lemon trees. We've even got what look to be edible fruit on the mandarin for the first time!

To celebrate I've baked a cake with citrus as the "hero" of the dish. (Can you tell it's almost time for MasterChef Australia to start once again? We need to start talking the talk.)  I'm allowing myself a dessert on the weekend and it needs to be a good one. "Lemon and Ricotta Cake," recently featured in the NZ Herald's "Viva" magazine, was my choice for this week.

 

Looks good, doesn't it? The cake is sprinkled with icing sugar and topped with fresh passionfruit and a blueberry or two. 

 

 

Nutty Meditation: It's Me & The Nuts

I know, it's supposed to be "an apple a day." But at the moment my mantra here at Struan Farm is "a tray a day," at least each rainy day. That's a tray of walnuts to be shelled and stored in ziplock bags in the freezer each rainy day.  The walnuts that I harvested from the tree in the Pet Paddock have been drying in wooden seed trays on newspaper in the garage for over five weeks now, so it's time to get cracking. Literally. I've given some bags away to guests and friends (take some walnuts, please!), but I counted twenty trays when I began this little exercise. John seems to disappear when I mention that it might be nice to sit at the kitchen bench, have a cuppa, and shell a hundred or two.  I'm clearly on my own here, it's me and the nuts.

The walnuts are beautiful this year. And I know Struan Farm muesli will taste that much better if I keep at it. Perhaps this counts as a form of nutty meditation?
 

Ahoy Mateys

Good news, the "HMS Maurie" has been relocated (finally) out of John's workshop here at Struan Farm and moved to the tractor shed pending the construction of its new home at the pond.

Nephew Mike will be building a new little boat shed out of recycled corrugated iron. The idea is that the boat will be hung up inside with a rope and pulley system, keeping it clean and dry when not in use. Or at least cleaner and drier than it might otherwise be floating on the water or sitting on the shore.

Sometimes these projects take time. I'm waiting to christen its launch with a bottle of champagne.

Sheep Wrangling Before Coffee

It's not a good idea for me to do anything except shower before my coffee in the morning here at Struan Farm. I know this, so I shouldn't have set off outside to move the ewes first thing this morning. But I did.

They were all standing beside the next paddock gate when I went out to unlock our front gate. Rosie and Ruby baa-ed to get my attention and came running up to the fence, advising me that the mob had munched enough in the Cottage paddock and wanted to be moved. There were murmurs of assent from the crowd. They are a precious, happy lot. They've had an abundance of feed this year and aren't used to eating things down as a result. Fresh, premium grass, it's only the "creme de la creme" for us, thank you very much.

But before I could open the gate I had to walk down the Old Road to make sure the "Taranaki gate" John has rigged while new fencing is built was actually closed. Nephew Mike has been working on the fencing, and sometimes doesn't close the makeshift gate when he's done for the day. So I got my requisite walk in, in the drizzling rain. Turned out the gate was closed.

After I walked back up I sang out "C'mon girls," opened the gate, and the mob joyfully ran through. Hardly anyone hesitates around me anymore. Rosie stopped for a quick rub. They moved in record time. I was now heading toward coffee. But then I looked down and saw something white moving around the pond. Oh.no. Someone had wandered along inside from the other end, where John is doing new fencing, and was trapped by the dam and the bush.

I knew I couldn't leave her there, despite my severe under-caffeination. She was agitated, as sheep often get when separated from the mob, and was running hither and yon. I called out to her and walked down to the pond, opening the gate near the dam.  She continued to dither, so I decided to walk around the pond to come up behind her. This would prompt her toward the gate if she had any sense. She did. She ran out the gate and up the hill towards the gate (now closed) that the mob had just run through. I trundled back up there. She ran away. I opened the gate and walked away, back and around. 

She ran through the gate into the paddock with the other sheep, literally LEAPING in the air as she did so. Yes, we were both overjoyed, for very different reasons. I managed to get back up the house for my much-needed coffee, and she was reunited with her sisters.

All in a day's work here at Struan Farm.

Fungi Find

John is always proud of himself when he discovers something "blog worthy" around Struan Farm, and this would be one of those things:

A rotting tree stump along the roadside Pet Paddock. Normally I classify tree stumps as blights on the landscape, and order their removal as soon as practically possible, but in this case I'll make an exception. Two different fungi, "turkey-tail porebracket," Tramete versicolor, and "orange porebracket," Pycnoporus coccineus. The ruffles are quite interesting, don't you think? The turkey tail looks almost like agate.

With thanks to Geoff Ridley's "Mushrooms and other fungi of New Zealand."

Friendly Fantails

My extreme weeding efforts in the gardens here at Struan Farm are stirring up insects as you might expect. Our native fantail birds have become my new best friends as a result. They flit around and aren't shy with me any more. Yesterday I counted four in the garden. They move fast, trying to catch them with the camera is a challenge!

Autumn Afternoon in the Pet Paddock

John and I took a stroll in the Pet Paddock here at Struan Farm one afternoon this week to catch up with the seasonal changes in the trees. The Dawn Redwoods look amazing, especially in soft golden light. 

The large ginkgo at the far end of the paddock is just beginning to turn brilliant yellow. I found some of its rather pungent fruit on the ground and in the tree. It turns out the nut-like kernels inside are edible in small quantities. They do contain a neurotoxin, eating them by the handfuls is not advised, but they also contain phytonutrients and antioxidants. In East Asian cuisines they are eaten either toasted or used as an ingredient for their nutritional and medicinal properties.

Despite my adventurous spirit, I'm not tempted to try them just yet. The smell puts me off!

Jack and the Wax Eyes

Despite our recent juice making adventures there are still heaps of crabapples hanging from the Jack Humm crabapple tree in the orchard here at Struan Farm. So we were very happy to see a mob of little "wax eye" birds enjoying the fruit (or "silver eyes," whichever you call them). I didn't have my long lens with me, but there are a few still on the tree in that first photo.

It's amazing there's so much fruit every year on one little tree.

Sunday Surrounds

For some reason my GP doesn't think I exercise enough. It seems extreme weeding, raking leaves and trimming hedges don't count. Pilates was mentioned. I'm meant to be taking time to walk around Struan Farm each day, up and down hills especially to get that cardio workout. And meditate. While I did practice meditation many years ago, and think it's a good thing to do for many reasons, I'm so exhausted when I go to sit down at night these days that I suspect I will fall asleep focusing on my breath. But I'll try, I will. She also said to stretch, and lose some weight (thankfully not much). Only so many hours in the day but I'll try, I will and I am.

Yesterday between rain showers John and I took a stroll down to the Homestead. The avenue of Awanui cherry trees look beautiful at the moment, as does the Nyssa in the Homestead gardens. The "bones" of the big trees are starting to be revealed as the leaves drop. It was all rather beautiful.

I really don't mind having to take time to go for a walk. It allows me to notice the beauty in my midst. Perhaps I can pass off my photography as walking meditation, hmmm. But I still need to go stretch. And pass me the carrot sticks....

 

Along the Road

You will know that John and I don't take much if any time off from working away here at Struan Farm. It's been a wet weekend, and we decided to take the long and scenic route over to Smart Plants in Te Kuiti, via Waimihi and Benneydale. We wanted to check out an old established garden in the area that a farmstay guest had told us about, at least to see what we could see from the road. 

I brought my camera along (of course). While I didn't make John brake for the odd roadside fruit tree that we came across, this is the sort of scene I make him stop for:

An elegant, abandoned old car out in a paddock with grazing goats! So long as it's not in our yard or our neighbours I find this sort of thing rather picturesque...

The Rat Patrol vs. The Rat Pack

When I was growing up there was a popular television show called "The Rat Patrol," about soldiers roaming the African desert in jeeps during WWII, also "The Rat Pack," Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., Dean Martin, Peter Lawford and Joey Bishop, being cool and hanging out in Vegas. But this post isn't about them.

There are things I find myself doing living in a rural area here at Struan Farm that I never envisioned myself having to do. Mostly things I never thought about growing up in a suburban and then urban environment. Jobs that just must get done, without fanfare, to keep the household and farm on the rails. One of those relates to rats and mice, especially at this time of the year. We did have mice in the cellar of our house growing up, but they tended to hide in the dog kibble and scurry away, weren't ever to be seen in any other areas of the house.

Here at the farm we regularly set mouse traps between guest visits at the Cottage in autumn and spring, since guests tend to leave doors open and mice make a beeline for the warmth inside. Evidence can sometimes be found that they've managed to get inside, but even if we don't see that around we set traps baited with peanut butter. Nothing worse than hearing the pitter patter of little feet in the kitchen at night, is there? Rats are around in the bush, and we don't want anyone having a close encounter with them, ever. John and I had a memorable night in the Cottage during our renovations where I ended up having to stand on the toilet with the door closed while a rat waited for its escape route to be available. I screamed while John laughed his head off.  To avoid any incidents we put poison underneath both the Homestead and the Cottage every few months.

This week I was on my own for a few nights with John up north at meetings. (Thankfully he's home now.) On those nights he's away I tend to stay up late catching up on my reading list. But I also hear every creak in the house, and definitely don't sleep as well as when he's home snoring beside me.

One night this week there were other noises. Rustlings and bumps under the house, which meant only one thing: rats. I kept turning on the lights and walking around to discourage them, but they continued until 3 a.m. at which point I collapsed into an exhausted sleep.

The next morning I was on the job:

Rat poison, yep. There are fancier "rat motels," plastic boxes into which the poison is threaded on wires, but we find a board with the poison nailed on works fine. The things one learns on the job! The poison has to be fastened down or the rats take it back to their nests and hoard it rather than nibble it and head off to that great rat nest in the sky. Of course I wear gloves, and of course this gets slipped under the house where Clifford can't get anywhere near it.

This will teach those rats to mess with my sleep, won't it?  As an aside, we are trapping rats in our bush areas as well. They're a threat to native birds and now that the possum numbers are down this is the next pest in the firing line. So no misguided sympathy for the rats, okay?

Along the Drive

I know this probably doesn't look like much, but it's how I spent most of my day yesterday. I took time out from finishing up cutting back and weeding the gardens at the house here at Struan Farm to trim the griselinia littoralis hedges that edge our driveway, then raked up the trimmings and weeded both sides of the drive. (I would say that it still needs a wee leaf blow to finish the job...)

We have friends coming to visit this weekend, and I had to decide where I'd get the most bang for my buck given my remaining available time to be outside working. A messy entrance doesn't send a good message, does it? So I cracked in. It was definitely head down and bum up for most of the day on the raking and weeding once the trimming was done.

Some might say that I could have used spray on the weeds. And yes, okay. But having survived cancer twice now I don't don the backpack sprayer with weed killer these days, I use it solely to spray copper on the fruit trees. I leave the nasty sprays to John if something really needs that to be knocked back. And John didn't have time this week to help with the drive. So it was left to me and my trusty niwashi, hard work the old fashioned way.

The burning and sore glutes will thank me, I'm sure. I keep thinking if I bend down enough working in the garden they will stop hurting at some point, right?