Struan Farm

"During," continued

Yep, it's all been happening with the macrocarpa trees here at Struan Farm. I was chastised for groaning about the sound of chainsaws at 6:45 a.m. one morning, told I was sounding like a townie! 

We're liking the expansive view that's been exposed so far. Our house remains protected from the prevailing southern winds by a solid stand of native bush reserve. Suffice it to say there are months of clean up and re-landscaping efforts to happen before we get to "after."

Here's the view at the moment in late afternoon. We're thinking this is going to be pretty amazing, eventually.

The mobile mill has been operating as well, sawing two different size boards for us to use for the new tractor shed. Feedback is that the quality of the wood is quite good, phew.

More to come.

A Sign of Good Things to Come

John and I were wandering around the orchard here at Struan Farm a few days ago, picking off some leaf curl on several young peach and nectarine trees. Even though I do spray with copper in spring and autumn it's something they go through adjusting to our relatively wet climate in Piopio. The curled leaves are meant to be pulled off and burned, I do that as soon as I see it.

At the same time I noticed quite a bit of young fruit growing on the trees: peaches, nectarines, nashi, quince, plums and the first apples. It looks to be too early to know the potential for the pears just yet. Mrs. Preston's peach trees and our Black Boy Peach look to be fruiting for the first time this season.

It should be a particularly good year for plums if the birds behave themselves! I won't bore you with too many photos of little green balls dangling from branches, but here are a few:

A Pampered Pooch, Briefly

Clifford, our dog here at Struan Farm, has looked progressively rattier ever since the local dog groomer developed carpal tunnel syndrome and stopped grooming. It's been several years since his last session, and he's now 15. He'd had one spectacular grooming after our move to Piopio, during which he moaned and groaned but after which he waltzed around waving his tail in the breeze, knowing he looked fantastic. It's been downhill ever since, he certainly won't let me brush anything but his back. I do bathe him during summer with the hose and medicated shampoo for his sensitive skin. That cools him off so he tolerates it. I also tend to grab him and cut off any dred locks as I see them, when and if he lets me.

I'd explored other options in the area but they were limited and few. In town our vet offered this service, at one point they shaved him, but in the country that doesn't happen since vets have a lot of other things to do related to large animals. One person wanted me to bring him to her house and leave him for the day, something I wasn't prepared to do. This was someone who works mostly with small dogs. That also gave me pause given Clifford's size and drama queen inclinations. 

Recently I saw an ad in Piopio's "BirdTalk" community paper for a mobile dog grooming service that comes to you, "Toi's Mobile Dog Grooming." I emailed and got a date and time on the diary, noting that he would probably fall into the "extra attention required" category with some matting in his fur. I didn't mention the sprigs of rimu in his tail, since those come and go.

Clifford didn't have a clue what was in store. Here he is "before" his extreme makeover. You really can't see how matted he is on his back end, which is probably a good thing. He's starting the seasonal moult as well, so now is a good time to be doing this.

  

There was no "during" since it was all done in van behind closed doors, which was probably a good thing for all involved. But here's "after."

TA DA! A pampered, fluffy, clean pooch, briefly.

Some Very Sad News

Yesterday morning John came in from his early rounds and feeding the pet lambs to report some sad news. I could tell by his face, and the fact he woke me up to tell me, that it wasn't good.

He'd found pet lamb Diva dead under a tree. She'd died during the night. We have no idea why, and sometimes this happens with pet lambs. She's always had respiratory issues, with a louder baa than anyone in the paddock. (Hence her name.)

The other members of the main mob, Bambi, Fergi, Whiskey and Camilla, had a quiet day. Jam and Jelly were none the wiser. We had some discussion about combining the two mobs but I've decided to let everyone settle.

Rest in peace little Diva, you were loved.

Let the Festive Season Begin

Here in New Zealand the lead up to Christmas is called the "Festive Season," normally because of the amount of holiday festivities that go on.

Here at Struan Farm we celebrate festive a different way: by potting up hundreds of Italian Parsley "gigante" seedlings. I was interested to read that parsley symbolises "festivity" after a long day in the glasshouse, so figured I'm on the right track. I've planted out a trough of this in our veggie gardens, will put the rest of the plants out in the Piopio Community Fruit & Veg Stand to share once the plants have settled down a wee bit. 

Always good to share festivity, right?

The First "During" Picture

A new view of the world has started to emerge from our house here at Struan Farm as the macrocarpas start to come down. Here's the action on Day One:

Several more instalments of "during" to come, and "after" is going to be quite some time. We won't start re-landscaping and planting trees until winter, but there's plenty of work to get done here in the meantime. But it's a much more open view out to the hills beyond.

A Pot Palace of One's Own

Virginia Woolf would be rolling her eyes, but then again she was a gardener, so perhaps not. The wee garden shed that John and nephew Mike set up under the tawas behind my veggie gardens here at Struan Farm has gone mostly unused.

This was an old laundry shed from our property in Papakura that got saved and transported to Piopio on a trailer, destined for a second life in the country. John thought it would be used as a tool shed, but the location isn't conducive to that, it's inconvenient and hasn't been used. Instead it has turned into a dumping ground for antique tools that aren't used but John doesn't have the heart to throw out. Lately mostly for garden pots, that we recycle and reuse for seedling tomatoes, herbs, flowers and veggies.

As a result I've decided to christen it "The Pot Palace." It has found its purpose by default. I spent most of a day recently reorganising our collection of recycled pots, stacking and tidying everything up. Making order out of chaos, sweeping cobwebs and spiders out.

Now we just need a sign!