BUSY?!

I was intending to try and blog twice a week, but its been a little hectic since my last post.  Hectic  is good though, I love to be busy.  I have worked it out that from Friday to Sunday night I fed something like 120 people through my kitchen...I hadn't actually thought about it until now and will sit down later and work the actual figure out.

So last Friday we had a phone call at 3.30 from some friends who wanted to come diving.  I had a bit of a giggle because the bloke is very "to the point" and when he phoned he just said "yeah, we're gonna come for a dive, that's cool aye.  Don't know what the girls are doing, some shit.  We'll see you later".  I was left knowing that some blokes were coming, but not how many and that maybe some girls and kids would come too, but not who or how many!! What really pleased me was that they felt they could do that...just ring up randomly and come on out.  So about 5.00 two ladies and some kids walk in the door with wine...love it.  The men and some of the other kids had gone down for a dive.  We proceeded to have a great evening.  Friends that can just rock on up and who don't care what you look like or what your house looks like are the best kind!!!  Unfortunately, I drank a little too much wine which did not show good foresight given that I had to host Lizzie's 8th birthday party the next day and had five extra little girls.  Its not like you can just shoot out to the supermarket or store where we live so we managed to scratch up some tucker for the 9 kids and 8 adults...it wasn't gourmet (sausages in bread and hot chips with paua for the adults) but it filled a gap.

In amongst the birthday party mayhem, on Saturday, Ian and Carolina from Chile were still with us and our three pig hunting mates (interlopers) were back as well.  I also had to think about the food for Sunday when we were having a pre-christmas family get together.  Managed to get the ham glazed on Saturday and everything else done ready for Sunday after feeding 11 for dinner and a similar amount at lunchti.me! Sunday lunch was 23 people.  I had fortunately had the foresight to decide on using paper plates so that we would have more time to go to the beach rather than washing up.  Had a brilliant day and really enjoyed spending time with the whanau.  I had made life easier for myself by deciding we would do "gourmet sandwiches" and I had cooked a beef fillet and ham leg and made two massive lettuce salads.  I got Mum to pick up fresh bread rolls and french bread sticks.  Fortunately my Uncle's wife is Chinese and so she brought some beautiful chinese pork buns, peking duck and butter chicken (which I realise is Indian).  Scott's Mum also brought some home made savoury pies and delicious slice.  Aunty Ro brought cake and nibbles.  What a feast!!!

Monday morning and it was time for Ian and Carolina to depart.  We had organised for them to go and stay with Scott's parents for a few days at Makaretu.  The first of our two german couples was supposed to turn up at lunchtime.  Of course, they got lost and arrived at 4pm!!  We had another german couple scheduled to arrive Wednesday, but of course they too got lost and as they were hitch hiking we had to go and pick them up from the side of the road in the middle of nowhere at 9.00pm on Tuesday!  In amongst all the comings and goings I've been flat out cooking for everyone, writing policies for the Pongaroa Community Buses, cleaning, washing, etc etc.  It has been very helpful having helpx exchange people here though to give me a hand.  Yesterday Markus took the chainsaw and sorted out a whole lot of shrubs in the garden while Jossi, Oggi and Sarah sugarsoaped the back corridor ready for painting.  They also went and helped Scott shift a mob of sheep.  This gave me some free time to mow the paddocks around the house on the little blue tractor.  I am a little bit obsessive and don't like the house paddocks looking untidy so I decided I would top them (mow) to get rid of the thistles.  We have a tiny little tractor that is used for mowing the olive groves which I thought would be perfect.  I did discover a little tip while I was mowing.  If you are overly endowed in the chest department and you are mowing on a tractor, you really should wear two bras.  I had to come inside and put a second one on to try and mitigate the movement.  You will be pleased to know I did not take a photo to share!!  So all in all its been really busy this week.  I have had to attend a couple of meetings, Scott's hardly been here at all and we are trying to shearing started.  I have already this morning cleaned the house, folded all the washing and made some scones. 

On the cooking front I did say I would share some of my large quantity recipes.  I have a cake one that is fantastic and isn't too fattening as it is made with oil.  You can use the mix to make two cakes, one oven dish sized cake, a zillion muffins or cake and muffins.  I am going to make cake and muffins later today and will freeze the muffins for next week when I have to "take a plate".

Here's the recipe:

2 cups Chelsea caster sugar
3 cups self-raising flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
½ cup cocoa

3 eggs, separated

2 cups milk
2 tablespoons malt vinegar
2 tablespoons Chelsea golden syrup
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 ½ cups cooking oil
1 egg

Preheat oven to 180 celsius.  Separate the three eggs.  In one bowl beat the yolks, milk, vinegar, golden syrup, vanilla, oil and extra egg.  Add sifted dry ingredients and beat again.  In a separate bowl beat the egg whites until stiff.  Fold egg whites through the cake mix.  Put into prepared tins (oven dish, cake tins, muffin trays whatever) and bake for about 30 minutes.  The baking time will of course depend on your dish, muffins will take heaps less time, oven dish may take more.  Use your brain.  when I did it I didn't use SR flour, I used ordinary flour and baking powder and I didn't use caster sugar as I never have it, I just used ordinary.  It does come out better if you use one large baking tin and the rest for muffins rather than the oven dish.  I did the oven dish one for Lizzie's birthday and it was fine.  I think I reduced the oven temp too.  

Hope you all have a great week.  I am off to the school talent quest this afternoon where Madeleine is singing an acapella version of Adele's Rolling in the Deep...she's none to shabby so it will be great to watch.  I am really proud of her for getting up and doing it on her own, all her idea!!  Can't think where she gets her confidence from?!

PEE IN A CUP

So I thought I'd give you an insight into having HelpX helpers come and stay.  Ian and Carolina are our first helpers, and we are their first hosts.  Given that we live in the middle of nowhere, I told them I would meet them in Dannevirke and they could follow me out to the station.  Of course the evening they decided to arrive there was a gale force wind warning in place for Hawkes Bay/Wairarapa.  These poor Chileans were forced to drive out from Dannevirke through howling gales of 130 km/h with tree branches all across the road.  Between Weber and Pongaroa it looked like a tornado had passed by.  Of course given that we live in the middle of nowhere, I always use a trip to town to get lots of things done.  On this occasion I decided I would pick up a new farm dog for Scott while I was out.  The poor thing was on the back of the truck in the gale force winds.  I am sure Ian and Carolina thought I was cruel and heartless having him up there.  In the end, when it started to rain as well and the rain was driving in sideways, I decided I would stop and put the dog in the cab.  Again, given that I had used the opportunity of going to town to do other jobs, I had the three girls and a whole lot of groceries and farm supplies in the truck, along with school bags, swimming gear etc.  Madeleine was sitting in the front and ended up with this great big hairy smelly farm dog sitting on her knee.  It did cross my mind at this point to wonder what on earth the Chileans might be thinking and if they could hear the sound of duelling banjos as loudly as I could (if you have seen the movie Deliverance you will understand) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uzae_SqbmDE&noredirect=1.

Of course the wind created other problems.  I told the kids that they needed to use the toilet before we left town because there is nowhere to stop and I would not be stopping on the way home.  Halfway between Dannevirke and Weber Lizzie decided she needed to wee.  I asked her if she could hold on until Pongaroa, to which I got a very terse "NO, I WILL PEE MY PANTS".  Of course I am driving at 100km/h at this point (or thereabouts), have a dog on the back, the Chileans following me and there are bits of tree branch swirling around outside.  Thank goodness for McDonalds and my quick thinking.  I set Lizzie the challenge of peeing into an empty McDonald's drink cup in the back of the truck without taking her seatbelt off...thinking that she might then decide she could hold on.  Lizzie is always up for a challenge.  I handed her the cup, proceeded to drive normally while she peed in the cup.  She did really well, didn't spill a drop and showed an amazing level of dexterity.  She would not be pleased with me for telling this story and banned me from telling anyone including Scott.  However it is too funny not to share.  This left the problem of what to do with urine in a cup?  Why, you put it in the cup holder of course! 

So we finally arrive at the station where Carolina proceeds to ask "Where is the farm?".  We have teased her about it ever since.  Farming in NZ is quite different to farming in Chile.  Ian and Carolina have fitted in so well with our family unit, although it has been a bit of baptism of fire for them.  Scott got them up at 5.30am on their first morning to go for a pig hunt which I will share in the next instalment.

Perhaps the salient point that should be taken away from this blog episode is never ever EVER travel in a vehicle with me or you may find yourself with a dog on your lap and having to pee in a cup.

RETURN FROM THE WILDERNESS

So it's official...I'M BACK.  After a brief hiatus, I have decided that I will reinstate the blog.  There are a couple of reasons for this.  First, the children have now returned to school and are no longer on Correspondence which has given me a whole lot more time than I had before.  The second reason is that we have now moved into a new farming position with lots of interesting things to blog about.

I suppose I should bring everyone up to speed with the journey so far.  Having finally left Ruatoria (phew) we have returned to Southern Hawkes Bay/Northern Wairarapa to manage Owahanga Station.  To give you an idea Owahanga is situated on the Coast near Pongaroa, sandwiched between Akitio and Mataikona beaches.  It is 7200 hectares of coastal paradise owned by a Maori Incorporation, Aohanga.  We are farming sheep and cattle with around 19000 stock units.  There is 3000 hectares of bush and scrub land which holds wild pigs, deer and far too many feral goats.  It has 14 kms of private coastline, not accessible to the public.  It has two rivers, the Owahanga and Mataikona, which form the northern and Southern Boundaries respectively.  I am sure some of you will google earth it.

The three girls are all attending Pongaroa School with Jimmy attending Pongaroa Early Years, which is the local kindergarten.  It is 29 kilometres or thereabouts into Pongaroa but we are EXTREMELY fortunate to have the school bus pick them all up (including Jimmy) right at the gate.  I will share more on the school bus in a later blog.

The other interesting aspect to our lives at present, which will provide plenty of blog material, is that we have started hosting foreign tourists through a site called HelpX.  Basically the tourists come and stay with us for a period of time.  We provide meals and accommodation in exchange for work.  Our first helpers have been Ian and Carolina from Chile who we have absolutely loved getting to know.  They are newly married and have finished their university education and have come to NZ on a working holiday to improve their English.  We have learnt so much about Chile that we did not know (I had to do a wikipedia search before they arrived so as not to look like a moron) and have been able to introduce them to farming, pig hunting, fish and chips and scone making.  As I type they are outside water blasting the outside of the house and laughing alot. Jimmy is "helping" them.  I have plenty more to say on the subject of helpx helpers...again best for another blog....I do not have time today!!  Ian and Carolina are leaving on Monday and Markus and Sarah from Germany are arriving.  We also have Jossi and Oggi from Germany arriving next week as well.  I am setting myself up for a highly paid job in the Hague with all my international relations experience!

Speaking of time (or lack of it), I was thinking this morning about the life of farmers and their wives.  To give you an idea Scott got up at 4.00am and was gone by 4.30am.  The shepherd that lives at the far end of the station, 14kms away, needed to leave his house at 3.30am to get to the yards at the right time.  I hate to think what time our stock agent Crashy had to leave his house at Wanstead to get here before 5.00am!!  I was up at 5.00am making scones for everyone.  I then had to do a rubbish run with all the rubbish, shift some furniture from one of the station houses to another, run several messages up to Scott in the yards, reply to emails for him, answer his telephone calls, feed and sort out a puppy, deal with the dog we have in isolation, start mount washing, change sheets, set Ian and Carolina alight with the water blaster.  That is all only part of it.  I find it is best not to sit down too much or think about all you have to do or you will never get anything done.  I will blog again tomorrow with some material about our helpers, and a bit of pig hunting.  For now, I need to go and put out another load of washing while it is still fine.

Welcome back to my blog about our crazy life....stay tuned!!!!!

IT'S RUGBY, BUT NOT AS WE KNOW IT

I’ve been out of action since my last blog and feeling a bit under the weather.  However, life still goes on regardless.

I was accosted in the local four square last week and asked to be the treasurer of one of the local rugby clubs.  I said I would think about it, hoping that the whole thing might go away and that they would find some other volunteer (sucker) to take on the job.  I was also reminded that our kids are all doing rugby and as such what were we going to do to help.  Would Scott possibly coach the older kids while I helped out with the Rippers?  I said that was fine and went home to inform Scott of our new tasks.  From this a conversation ensued regarding our commitment to Ruatoria C.I.T.Y. wherein Scott suggested that perhaps given we were going to be so involved there with the kids, maybe he could return to the playing field.  Reluctantly, I agreed that it wasn’t the worst idea I had ever heard.  Scott’s reasoning was that he wanted Jimmy to “see his old man play”.  I think he thought that Jimmy, at the age of three, would be incredibly interested and inspired by the sight of his Dad out on the rugby paddock when, in actual fact, he is more interested in how to score a sausage from the sausage sizzle and playing bullrush with the other pre-schoolers.

We visited Gisborne on Thursday and on our way back we decided that if Scott was going to play, he’d better register as a player.  We rolled on up to Whakarua Park at 6.00pm to find about five young fellas sifting around waiting for practice, along with the coach.  Scott of course was welcomed with open arms and after registering dropped the rest of the whanau home before returning to Ruatoria for rugby practice at 6.30pm.  Apparently there were only 10 people at rugby training and there was some concern that they may not have enough players on the day.  However, Ruatoria being what it is, enough people rolled up on the Saturday to just cover a playing 15 and not alot more than that.  Scott arrived home after practice to inform me that I needed to take a plate on Saturday.  Now, taking a plate in Ruatoria is not the same as “taking a plate” anywhere else.  While in other districts I might have got away with a small plate of sausage rolls or club sandwiches, that wasn’t going to suffice up here.  Cue a huge stock pot and a massive wild pork stew, enough to feed 70 odd people.  I thought I’d done a pretty good job for a pakeha.  Scott spent Friday night in preparation mode with Madeleine required to massage tendinitis cream into Scott’s tendons while he sat and watched Super 15 and reminisced on his prowess of days gone by.

Saturday dawns and rugby preparations start early.  I was required to cut Scott’s hair, which I am sure was going to add nothing to his performance, but I duly attended to.  Jimmy of course wanted the same hair cut.  Scott was due down at the Clubrooms at 1.30 with kick off scheduled for 2.30 ish (I say “ish” because on the Coast things happen at “ish” time).  I did a head count of players and discovered there were only 14.  Never mind, I was sure there would be some latecomers.  While Scott was in full pre-match practice mode I was dispatched to the kitchen to help the ladies with the food.  This entailed cutting up veges and meat and getting the boil up on the go.  Its a long way from rugby clubrooms of day's gone by where I only had to rock up with a small plate of something that looked pretty and was merely a snack, rather than a meal.  CITY fed about 200 people post match.

I did notice that instead of the usual black and yellow strip our boys were wearing black and red.  I wondered if it was perhaps something to do with Christchurch or perhaps they always wear an alternative strip for a local derby.  Later on I was informed that the reason they were wearing old red and black jerseys was because last year’s coach had given away the strip to ensure players turned up for the final game of the season....ONLY ON THE COAST!  The club is now trying to raise funds and get grants to purchase a new number one strip.  You will also notice from the photos that Scott is wearing number 1.  Although he is twice the man he once was, with half the speed, he has not had a positional swap to Prop.  It is merely that there are not enough jerseys in the right sizes and numbers to go around.  He was in fact blind side, usually number 6.

The game gets underway with a small huddle by each team.  CITY didn’t do much of a “chant” and was distinctly underwhelming.  Hikurangi, the opposing team, were far more vocal and impressive in their huddle.  This caused much mirth amongst the CITY supporters. and caused them all to shout  "Kia Kaha City" as if somehow they needed to keep their chins up after being beaten in the chanting.   I was intrigued to notice that the referee was female and there are of course no touch judges or anything so sophisticated as that.  Merely the chap from the four square who dishes out the petrol running along the sideline in his four square uniform with a flag.  Dunno who serves the petrol while he has absconded to Whakarua park.  You can see from the photos that there was a slight lack of professionalism in the turn out of the team.  There was an ecletic mix of shorts including long flouresent boardies, and a mixture of socks including one guy wearing black business socks.  There was also a mixture of ages, with one our players nudging sixty.  He filled in as touch judge and went on only in the last five minutes.  There was plenty of jokes on the side line about the “old koroua” we had warming the bench.  Hikurangi also had its fair share of koroua’s as well though.  They did however have a former Hawkes Bay rep in Motu Ngarimu playing for them at lock.  CITY could boast no such representative players.

Of course the game got underway and CITY got a pasting.  You can see from the photos that the half time score was 48 nil.  The final score was 91 nil.  CITY celebrated like they had won because Hikurangi (the Maunga) hadn’t managed to put on a ton.  I didn’t see the last ten minutes of the game as I had to return to the Clubrooms with the children to help with the food.  Now if there’s one thing they do well on the coast, its food.  There were eight large stockpots full of stew or boil up and large pots of veges.  There was also smoked eel, mussels, fry bread, chicken, roast pork, sausages...you name it, it was there.  The Maunga turned up and the speeches began.  Its quite imposing being in a room full of about 200 people and being the only pakehas.  Never mind, its something we’ve got used to now.  We can even follow quite a bit of the Te Reo Maori in the speeches.  I was really impressed when Hikurangi had finished their speeches they got their guitar out and sung a waiata., complete with actions.  CITY on the other hand, did not.  When our chap finished his speech instead of doing a waiata, which is protocol at all Maori events after speeches, he got out a little music box, opened it and it played “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer”.  I must say I felt a little cheated.   I guess that given their pre-match huddle shout, I should have lowered my expectations on the waiata front. Scott was runner up for player of the day...although god knows how.  He injured himself in the first five minutes but went on to play a full game.  His hip is bruised really badly but other than that, he’s in pretty good nick and congratulating himself on the fact that apart from the fact that he can’t walk, he’s in pretty good nick!

Kids had a great time at the rugby as per usual.  Jimmy decided midway through the first half that instead of going around the field, he would run right across the middle of it.  I yelled out to him “no Jimmy, don’t run across the field” hoping he would turn around and run back to where he came from, which incidentally was the sausage sizzle.  Instead he kept on running then slowed down and replied “Oh, I’ll walk” from the middle of the field.  I then had to yell at him “No Jim, keep running”. and run onto the field myself to urge him on.  He managed to get out of the way but it could have ended in a shambles.  The girls ended up playing bull rush against the Coastie kids.  It was the three Somerville girls against all the local Ngatis.  It looked so funny...our three all in a huddle talking team tactics and then being rushed by the Ngatis.  To their credit, the girls held their own and managed a credible performance.  Jimmy was, as I predicted, rather underwhelmed by the fact that Dad was out on the paddock.  He was more interested in eating sausages and running around with the locals.  Perhaps he will be inspired by Dad’s performance next week, although as they are playing Uawa (Tolaga Bay) I suspect there will be a repeat of this week’s scoreline.  I’d better get my thinking cap on for what to make for next week’s “plate”.

The imposinf forward pack.  Numbers mean nothing..anyone who knows anything about rugby knows you don't find no 11 in the forwards!

Getting ready to psych the oposition out.

And so it begins.  I think this may have been the only time CITY was in the opposition's half.

Facing up after one of Hiku's many tries.

The huge crowd, standing room only.

Business socks for "doing the business"

Odd socks on the guy with the strapped hand, check out the shorts on the number 8.

Female ref, who Scott said "did a bloody good job really"

The half time team talk, number 6 is our old koroua adding his wisdom

The half time score.  The time clock never changed.

I left at this point. Note the clock still hasn't changed.

Local Ngati under 5's getting in a game of bull rush.

Anyone need a nose job?

It's been another busy week here on the Coast.

Scott had his mate Jamie and another guy called Spud over from Opotiki for a hunt last weekend. They got six good eating pigs and slayed quite a few smaller ones as well. Scott is pretty happy about the slaying as he has lost quite a few lambs in the last couple of seasons to marauding pigs. He is going to have a big clean up of pigs just before lambing and get a couple of teams of guys and dogs out getting rid of them from the worst affected paddocks. Applications will be accepted from now on by any interested parties! I did laugh though. Scotty isn't the most organised of blokes and so just before they were all about to go out for the first hunt Scott said to me "Dear, have you seen my sticking knife"...I thought to myself "How many wives get that sort of a question thrown at them and know the answer".

Of course every time someone comes to visit there is a tale to tell, and perhaps I should issue a word of advice to anyone planning a pig hunt over here in the near future...mind your dogs around Scott! Spud had brought one of his young dogs over who I thought was a rather nice looking dog, as pig hunting dogs go. He is part Airedale so is red and hairy and I thought kind of handsome. Spud, I am sure, thought I was on another planet commenting on the looks of his dog when really all that is important in a hunting dog is its actual ability. Anyway, the three blokes and all their dogs set off for a hunt on the Saturday evening. They arrived back some hours later pretty pleased with their efforts but giving each other a bit of shit (as you do). Apparently the dog in question has a few "issues" and is a bit of an animal on the pigs (strange phrase to use, I know) and doesn't quit even when all the other dogs have been called off and you're going in to stick to the pig. Scott went in to stick one particular pig and being the rough bugger that he is he ended up cutting a large hunk out of the poor old dog's nose. Spud came home and I was made to look at the poor old dog's nose with Spud lamenting the damage Scott had done to his dog's good looks. It probably isn't good hunting etiquette to cut the other bloke's dog methinks. I am sure Spud will get Scott back one way or another. Should any of you need a nose job done, you will now know where to come to.

Another of Spud's dogs seems to have some issues surrounding the rear end of the pig and is what is known in the trade as a "nut grabber". This dog doesn't only grab the nuts though, apparently he unzips the "purse" with his teeth and then once that job's done goes in and grabs the penis. Gross. However, on reflection, the poor old dog is perhaps wasted on pigs and could be put to better use by the Justice Department giving certain criminals the same treatment. What a genius idea! There was some good news with the dogs. Scott had been given a Collie cross to try on the sheep and cattle. Patch is a really nice natured dog but no good for stock work. Scott had kept him because he thought the dog had quite a nice nature and wasn't sure exactly what to do with him. That problem has now been solved with Patch becoming a pig dog. Scott took him out with Jamie and Spud's dogs and apparently Patch pulled up a pig on his own, more or less. He also spooked a deer which was not ideal but as he's in training it's a win some lose some situation. Scott thrilled to bits and Patches of course now has a reason for existing! I am only hoping that Scott doesn't suddenly decide that he needs more dogs and more equipment. Pig hunting, for those of you that don't know, is now high-tech with the use of GPS collars on the dogs. Of course there is all manner of other assorted paraphernalia for the hunting man to invest (waste) his money on...rip collars, full body protectors for dogs, motorbikes, clothing, spotlights, knives etc. All that money would buy a lot of pork some would say, but of course buying your meat at the supermarket doesn't get the bloke out of your hair for the entire day. There is also the "what you spend, I spend" principle and the "time out you have, is the time out I have" principle...as Charlie Sheen would say its bi-winning!

Jamie left his knife behind and so sent a text to Scott saying could Scott go and retrieve his knife from down the shed. Scott said he'd post it back but Jamie said not to worry about it as apparently Tim (another mate) is coming over shortly for a pig hunt and he will pick it up. Tim is yet to advise us of this, but I am expecting a call any day now. Scott's brother Andy is over from Tauranga this weekend for a deer hunt and there at least two other lots of blokes wanting to come and do the same in the next month...it is of course, the roar. Bring it on...the more the merrier. The payback for me, apart from having a full freezer and some decent company for a change, will be that I get to go away at the beginning of May for a holiday. The Correspondence School are having a camp at Silverstream in the Hutt Valley for five days so I am going to take the kids to it. It's a ten hour (at least) journey one way, but will be worth it I think. Plenty of activities planned the kids, including Jimmy. I won't have to cook, which is a holiday in itself, and we will be able to go and meet all their teachers at the Correspondence School head office in Wellington. Scott, of course, is not coming so I will be undertaking the mammoth ten hour trip with the four kids on my own. Fortunately I am made of stern stuff so I will just have to get on with it. Hopefully I will manage to catch up with a few relatives in the general Wellington vicinity while we are down there and perhaps a spot of shopping?!

Next week is shaping up as a busy one too. After a full weekend with Andy, Sarah and the kids I will need to get myself organised and house cleaned to within an inch of its life for the Board Meeting being held here on Thursday. Of course the event itself will be fully catered by a professional (me). I also have the Correspondence School itinerant teacher visiting on Wednesday, swimming lessons in Gisborne, rugby practice with the kids and goodness knows only what else. Scott's cousin William turned up this morning with a bucket full of kumara and suggested that perhaps he would bring me all the produce in the garden to make some chutneys and relish later today. He got a short sharp shift and was told that perhaps, towards the end of next week, there will be a small window which I can fit making chutney into. What is that they say? If you want something done ask a busy person.

On a final note, I'd like to send a shout out to the Ruatoria Kai Kart. Went there tonight for a feed of fish and chips as I am unwell and couldn't be bothered cooking. I was really impressed. A little old chap tottered up on his two walking sticks. Obviously local, and obviously a regular customer. He said "I'll not have my usual, I feel like a change. I'll have fish, 2 sausages and some chips". A long discussion ensued about what quantity "some" represented. The lady in the Kai Kart told the little old Kaumatua to tottle on back to his vehicle, which incidentally was parked outside the pub, and she would bring his fish and chips over to him. I thought that was pretty neat given that she was the only one working in the Kai Kart and would have to leave it unattended to deliver his meal. As they would say up here "too much youse fullas at the Kai Kart. Ka pai".

Have you got the time?

I know its been two weeks since my last blog, but I have been very industrious in my enforced absence.  

A few years ago we decided to invest in residential property.  Over a period of two years we brought and completely renovated seven houses in the thriving metropolis of Dannevirke.  It was one of those "seemed like a good idea at the time" kind of ideas.  Not only did we manage to renovate them but we also thought we were so shit hot that we could manage them all ourselves as well.  What fools we were.  We have since sold two of them and all but one are managed by a property manager which has cut down the workload considerably.  However, there is always something that needs doing or a problem that needs remedying, which is the reason for the lack of action in the blog.

Our property manager had said that one of the houses was vacant and she thought it could do with a repaint and a tidy up.  Of course we could have got a handyman/painter/DIY guru in to do the work, but rather than pay someone, we decided to do it ourselves, or at least Scott decided that rather than have a holiday in April, we would go away now and do some DIY instead.  This of course meant I had to get the kids' schoolwork up to date before we left, house organised, gear packed, schoolwork for the week or so we were away organised and packed, and so on and so forth, I am sure you get the drift.  Scott had to attempt to organise the members of MENSA (staff) with their tasks for the week and of course pack the wagon with all the DIY kit we would need for our journey south.  We do own a trailer, but Scott decided in his wisdom that given the price of fuel at present ($2.30 a litre in Ruatoria) he would strap a large black box to the roof of the wagon with all the paint and painting equipment in it, rather than waste fuel towing a trailer.  Unfortunately the box bears more than a passing resemblance to a coffin and we received plenty of odd looks and finger pointing on our journey south.  From behind it looked like someone was trying to escape from the Coffin and Scott had suggested that perhaps a couple of rubber fists (think "Borat") sticking out the back would have enhanced the experience for those looking on.  Unfortunately, rubber fists are not something routinely kept around the house so that genius idea had to be put on the back burner.  Plenty of people already refer to us as "The Clampetts" so our mode of transportation will come as no surprise to many.

The Coffin, side view

The coffin, from behind where the addition of rubber fists would have made the difference.

Many wives will of course go on holidays to Tropical Islands in the South Pacific or shopping meccas in main cities.  I, however, had the distinct pleasure of a painting and decorating sojurn in the environs of New Zealand's Scandinavian capital, Dannevirke.  I know how jealous many of you will be starting to feel right now.

We really had no idea what to expect at the rental property and were fearing the worst.  It is always good to prepare for the worst case scenario and then reality always seems a pleasant surprise.  We arrived to find the place more than a little filthy....there was a small amount of human excrement on the walls in one room with the apt description "shithead" written in black vivid on one of the other walls.  One of the other bedrooms had been painted a god awful shade of purple that the tenant had managed to get all over the skirting boards and scocias.  Lovely.  We proceeded to paint aforementioned bedrooms in a calming shade of cream, the entire kitchen received the same treatment.  I will however give you a small piece of advice, never ever scratch your mouth and nose when painting with enamel paint.  It took me three days to remove my cream hitler-esque moustache.  The house is clad in stucco, so we gave the outside a good wash and we are getting a new shed built as well.  The entire task took us five days to complete and the house now looks much more presentable.

There were some real positives to our trip southward, the first being that we got a break from the four holy terrors.  Scott's parents looked after them for us so we did get some adult time, albeit on the end of a paint brush.  We did manage to have a romantic lunch on the front doorstep purchased from the local chinese takeaway.  Scott really pushed the boat out on that one, he even brought me an ice cream one day on the way home.  The kids spent a lovely day wandering around Dannevirke with my parents and going to the pools.  They pushed Grandad Stache all round the streets in his wheelchair and didn't tip him out once, which is always a bonus.  We also managed to catch up with several sets of friends, which was long overdue.  I will of course have to wait for my "holiday" a little longer.

Of course, all good things must come to an end and so we arrived back on the Coast yesterday.   Ruatoria didn't take long before it showed its unique character and what makes it such a funny little place to live.  I called in at the shop to pick up some milk and ran into an old geezer in there who has a speech impediment...his impediment being that he has far too much to say for himself!!  He greeted me by name and unfortunately I was unable to do the same as I have no idea who he is, but he always chats to me like we are soul mates.  He followed me around the store putting things into my basket and giving me a dietary lesson on the benefits of Vogel bread vs "that other shit" (his words).  His advice, for all of you out there choosing bread products, is that you should buy Vogels and "feed it to your kids aye, because then they'll live long enough to support you and give you money".  He updated me on all the local happenings and his philosophy on the evils of money.  He also advised he had been to visit another local who had been unwell recently.  I asked him how the chap was now and whether he was keeping in good health.  My friend replied "oh, he's got himself measured up for a coffin but he's too bloody mean to die".  I left the shop feeling glad to be back and highly amused by my little tete a tete with him. 

Scott experienced a Coastie-ism this morning.  It was about 7.15 am and the phone rang.  Scott answered "Scott speaking" as usual.  The local on the other end said "Is that you Dan?".  Scott replied "No, its Scott Somerville.  Who are you after".  "I'm after Dan" said the guy "You got his number Kill?".  Scott assumed which Dan it was, and said "Yep, I've got his number, hang on a tick".  The PHd holder on the end of the phone says "Yeah bro, I need to phone Dan to see what the time is".  "Right" said Scott.  "You got the time Bro" says our friend.  Scott gave the guy the time of day, as you do, and the guy said "Cheers" and hung up.   Now I am quite sure that conversation would not have taken place had we lived in another location than the Coast.  I only hope that our man finds Dan's number and rings him tomorrow and not us again.  Watch this space!!

THE LIFE OF A FARMERS' WIFE, PART 2

Reporua Marae, on the back boundary of the farm

We have expanded the family somewhat, forgot to mention it

The church at Reporua on the back boundary of the farm

Last blog I was going through and article from the Farmers Weekly of a few years' ago and got as far as "being hospitable".  There are a number of other headings, which I will detail for you all now, along with a summary of yet another crazy week on the Coast.

Professional Cleaner

The article states that the Boss does not consider hygiene important and that farmers' wives must deal with copious amounts of stained clothes leaving grime around the inside of the washing machine and that the boss will show no consideration whatsoever for keeping furniture clean.  On this note, I will say that every farmers' wife I know complains constantly of having to put their arm down the inside out trouser leg of pants that have been used for dagging or some other disgusting task.  For me this situation is compounded by the fact that Scott has absolutely no sense of smell so is not aware that he stinks to high heaven after he has been picking up dead sheep and that it is not nice to have that smell permeate the washing basket, the lounge furniture or the bedroom.  No farmers' wife I know has a white duvet cover or pale coloured furniture.  There is also of course the socks that have sheep shit on them that they don't take off and then the muck gets tramped into the carpet.  Not to mention of course the mess that having farm children creates...cow shit fights, playing in the mud, etc.  Speak to any farmers wife and ask her what she has to remove from the pockets of their shorts...truck loading dockets, fence staples, baling twine, nails, ear tags, rubber castration rings...and that's only today's pants.

Gate Specialist

The article suggests that opening gates will always be the role of the farmers wife and the position won't be threatened.  Of course, having children does create a brief respite when they are between the age of 5 and leaving home, of course once they leave home, you will return to Commander in Chief of this role.  I must say though that when taking visitors out on a tour of the farm, I try to make sure that I sit in the middle in the back so that the guest gets that job!!!  I do feel a little sorry for the visitor though when alot of our gates are latched with no 8 wire and don't swing properly and the task of opening gates becomes one of brute strength.

Road Marker/Traffic Controller

A high level of responsibility is placed on the shoulders of the farmers' wife.  Your job is to direct stock through a gate while waving arms to slow traffic, a skill greatly underestimated by the boss.  Of course he is usually found meandering along on a bike, horse or in a vehicle behind the mob,  often chatting to a neighbour, while you have the hardest job of stopping the entire mob from scattering down the road.  Fortunately for me, we live on a relatively quiet road at present, so this job is somewhat easier than it has been for me in the past.  Some wives have a terrible time on main highways.

Easy going nature

The article states that the famers' wife must be prepared to have your flower and vegetable garden eaten at least once a year.  Tell me about it!!!  I have lost count of the number of times stock have come into the house area and cleaned up my renga renga lilies.  I have had a pohutukawa lopped off at ground level and the top nibbled out of an ornamental cherry this year!

Eavesdropper

I was talking with another famers' wife about this skill only last week.  It is necessary for us to listen to conversations had by the boss with other people in order to know whats going on.  The boss won't tell you the information directly  but will expect you to know what is going on and be able to pass information on to third parties and make decisions based on said information in his absence.  Only this week one of the staff turned up, couldn't get hold of Scott and had forgotten what time the truck was coming to pick up the cattle.  Although I hadn't been told directly, I had overheard (via eavesdropping) what was happening and so was able to assist.  Communication is not the strong point of the farmer when dealing with his wife!!

Understand Water Systems

When the boss is away, be prepared for either stock or house water to run dry and guess who has to fix it!  This happens more often than I would like.  Plenty of farmers wives, including myself, are expected to be able to know firstly why there is no water and secondly how to fix it.  I am expected to know which pump runs which system and where the pipes run so that if I haven't got water at the house because the tank has run dry and I need to get water from the bore, I can walk the line and find out where the problem is.  Of course, I am also expected to know how to fix it!!  Up here this is complicated somewhat by the fact that the pump is on another road and also runs water to one of the local marae.  If they have a water problem, they telephone the house expecting to find Scott at home (which of course he isn't) and have someone advise them how to fix it or mobilise someone else to do so.  This is of course expected to be done immediately and cannot wait until Scott has returned from the back of the farm.

So the above headings, along with the ones from last week, pretty much sum up the life of a farmers' wife and yet again this week, I was put through an examination of my skills to see whether I would pass or not.  

It has been a pretty tough week for our little Island in the South Pacific with the death toll from the Christchurch earthquake standing at 113 with 220 or so still missing.  Its been hard to watch all the footage and not feel a little guilt at the fact that "life" carries on for you, when your fellow countrymen are experiencing such dreadful times.  Obviously you do what little you can like donating to various appeals but of course you do have to get on with things, which is the New Zealand way I guess.  On Thursday we were watching the footage of the urban search and rescue teams going about the arduous task of looking for survivors.  Scott happened to look out the window and notice that we needed to enact a rescue of our own.  Marty, one of the station horses, was completely stuck in the cattle stop at the bottom of the driveway.  The entire house mobilised into vehicles and shot down the driveway for a closer inspection of the situation.  Of course, all the staff were there and some of the neighbours and a mini-summit meeting began regarding the best way to rescue poor Marty.  The first suggestion was that we would need a vet to sedate him while we attempted to get him out.  Scott immediately telephoned the two vet clinics in Gisborne.  Our usual vet who is a one man operation was in Palmerston North, so not able to help, and the larger vet clinic didn't have a vet up the coast but could have one there in two hours or so.  Nothing for it but to get stuck in.  Fortunately Marty is a pretty quiet sort of a horse so when we started beavering away with hacksaws and angle grinders on the steel, he stayed pretty still.  Of course being the capable farmers wife that I am, I was charged with putting my weight on his head and neck area to stop him thrashing about.  What a nightmare.  You will have all seen the photos on facebook.  Once we had him out and could assess his injuries, it was clear that Marty had lacerations on all legs, with a particularly nasty 15cm long 2cm deep cut to his left hind leg. 

Cue my nursing skills!  I rushed up the house, made up saline solution, tore up old towels, grabbed a roll of mutton cloth and the penicillin injection for the cattle (that is kept in my fridge) and all manner of other paraphenalia that could be useful to dress wounds on a large horse.  Jo, our shepherd, shot down the road to grab a container of manuka honey.  Tony, the stock agent, happened to be sifting round at the time, and had plenty of horse experience so between the three of us we managed to get Marty's wounds cleaned and bandaged up.  Thought that would be enough excitement for one day, so I returned home with the kids to carry on the morning's lessons.

Anyone who knows anything about the East Coast will know that it is one of New Zealand's largest cannabis growing areas.  Every year at about this time there are planes buzzing around over head and helicopters as well, dropping blue liquid from the sky onto cannabis crops to kill them.  I heard a plane and a helicopter flying low overhead but didn't think anything of it until I went down to the woolshed just before lunch to check on the shearers.  Apparently they had been hovering over several spots on the farm dropping blue dye on someone's crops!!!  The interesting thing about the Coast is that there is so much cannabis that the police do not even advise you they have found it growing on your farm and do not question you for further information.  Thought that was the end of the excitement, until Scott decided to go for a wee drive down the road later in the day.  We have a vacant house on the farm that we are in the process of renting out.  Scott went past and the gate was open, which he thought was a little strange.  The house itself is up a long driveway on top of a hill and you can't see it from the road.  Scott shot up there to investigate and lo and behold ends up in the middle of a police raid, Jimmy in tow.  There were six cop cars crawling all over the place, apparently with a warrant.  They didn't find anything, and Scott had to give a statement.  All in day's work on the Coast!!!  I went out later in the afternoon to find 9 cop cars at another address just down the road.  The police were certainly busy in their work.  I hope they found whatever it was they were looking for.

A candid Ruatoria shot.

Our local pub...needs a lick of paint.  No need for signage.  In fact I don't even know what its actual name is..we just call it "The Pub".  It probably has a name.  It is directly opposite our fish and chip caravan, or "Kai Kart"

Its been a pretty normal week other than that.  I have been busy teaching the kids.  I started writing this early this morning but the house had ended up as Grand Central Station today with several visits from locals, and a couple of other unexpected visitors as well.  Why is that people never call in when the house is tidy, but always when its a bomb site because you've been too busy to tidy it up???  I tried to explain that I had been making a worm farm this morning as part of the kids school work, but was met with sceptical looks.  Its true, honest!!  Wonder what next week will bring.  Perhaps it will be a quiet one.

Making a worm farm, stuffing grass clippings inside the tyre

The whole family was busy making the worm farm...kapai us!

MARRIED TO A FARMER? MARRIED TO A JOB!

I can't take credit for the title of this blog.  It comes from an article that was in the Farmers Weekly about five years ago or so.  I kept the article to remind me to laugh at the predicaments I find myself in and the expectations placed farmers wives by all and sundry.  Yesterday was a really good example and ties in nicely with the article.

The article starts off with a statement "If there was a job description for farmers' wives, the skills and requirements of the job would be challenging enough for any women with high career aspirations.  Farmers' wives are called on to do many things for the love of their husbands/bosses from simply preparing "smoko" though to lambing ewes".  The article then continues with a number of headings for things which farmers' wives are routinely asked to do.  Yesterday was a fine example of the salient headings of the article.  I will address them in order:

Stock Handler

This happened the day before yesterday, but still illustrates the point.  While I was trying to get the kids organised for school, the house dogs decided to have a fight.  I, of course, had to intervene, which involved grabbing the hose to try and spray them with water .  Unfortunately the hose got a kink in it just as I rounded the corner so no water came out and I ended up just whacking the two of them with the end of it.  Dogs bolted...one under the house and one under the vehicle.  The one under the house couldn't get out so I had to grab the hammer, prise the barge boards off and haul the dog out to check for injuries.  The other dog had to be hauled from under the car with  me lying on my tummy on the gravel to do so. That dog had injuries so I had to put antiseptic on them and then keep the two dogs separated all day.  This is in addition to my usual duties surrounding stock work, farm dogs, calves etc.

Not get green with envy

The article suggests that the wife must always remember they are second best, the top dog has the spot next to and riding behind the boss....this happened on Monday when I was not allowed to go to town with Scott as he was taking one of the dogs to the vets and apparently there was no room for the children and I...I suspect it is because he prefers the company of Stone the Huntaway!  Stone is less likely to ask anything of Scott or spend any money in town.

Love Farming

Article suggests that wife must understand husband's ability to talk for considerable time and considerable length about farming....yesterday I was subjected to a very long diatribe regarding sheep and beef prices, the price of wool and his cynical feelings on the proposed Wool Co-operative.  Makes a change from the science of fertiliser I guess.  Of course I too am expected to know what the sheep and beef schedules are doing and what prices various classes of stock are getting at the sales...all riveting stuff I can assure you.  I now scan the Farmers Weekly newspaper to make sure I am up with the play.  Every visitor we have seems to assume I know what is happening with the markets and will attempt to discuss them with me so it pays to be up with the play, rather than risk looking like an idiot.

Telepathy

The article suggests that instructions and directions given by the boss are not always clear the wife is expected to telepathically understand exactly what is meant by "put them in that paddock over there" or "open that gate in the corner" when there are four corners in a paddock, and sometimes those corners have more than one gate.  Yesterday, after I had finished all my schooling for the day and fed the calf, I was expected to drop everything at 6.30 pm to go and help him draft lambs before shearing.  He says "open the gate and put that mob into the pen"...to which I replied "which blardy gate and which blardy pen".  Communication is not always a farmers' strong point, particularly when working with their wives.  Any farmers wife will know that the job of drafting dirty lambs from clean lambs usually comes with one or either parties screaming abuse at the other and threatening divorce.

Be flexible

The article states that all farmers' wives should be prepared to be flexible as plans change at a moments notice and that "yeah, this will only take five minutes" will inevitably take an hour or more.  This happened yesterday when I was told "can you just come and help me draft this mob for shearing, it will only take 5 minutes".  It took an hour and a half at 6.30pm when I would rather have been cleaning kids and finishing dinner!  Scott will  often turn up and say "yeah, just going to shift a mob, it will take five minutes, thought you might want to come".  In my experience it never ever takes five minutes and the only reason I am invited is because the dogs can't open the gates and I can.  The actual shifting of the mob might take five minutes but getting there will take half an hour and then there is inevitably a water line that needs fixing, a hole in a fence that needs repairing, stock out on the road that need to be returned and of course the inevitable chat with the neighbours about the state of sheep and beef prices.  Never ever ever trust a farmers' estimation of time.

Be Hospitable

Your house will be something of an open home to stock agents, bank managers, workers, fencers etc and they will almost always turn up at meal times.  Again, this happened yesterday when I had the local stock agent for lunch and the shearing contractor came up to use the phone and had several cups of tea, twice in one day, including watching tv with us until 9.30pm.  Today has been no different with two extra families for lunch!!  I did know today's visitors were coming though so was up at 5.20am this morning making choc chip biscuits, bacon and egg pie and cheese scones and cleaning the house.  Don't forget of course the fact that most farmers' wives can't just zip down the road to the supermarket to get something for lunch, its got to be made from scratch.

There are another seven headings in the article, all of which occurred yesterday and which I will go into in my next blog.  Certainly being a farmers' wife has a different required skill set than most other jobs.  Shame the pay doesn't match up!

So yesterday was referee dog fights, teach children on Correspondence all day, cook lunch for stock agent, feed calf, run dogs for Scott, find out I have another calf to feed so make milk and try to get that one going, cook dinner, draft mob of sheep, make numerous cups of tea for shearing contractor, field a million phone calls and answer a multitude of questions, attend professional development via telephone with maths department of Correspondence School, washing, folding, clean children, read stories, etc etc.  Up at 5.20am the following day to cook and clean for visitors, entertain visitors from 9.00am until 2.30pm, teach for an hour to finish of some school work, field more phone calls, wash more kids, cook more meals, do more washing, feed more calves, etc etc ad infinitum.  Jealous much?  Perhaps that's why Scott came home with a bunch of flowers and box of chocolates this week!!  My advice for those of you unmarried ladies reading this is, if you meet a farmer...run for the hills, unless you are up for a challenge!!!

The only thing to expect is....the unexpected

So another week passes us by up here on the Coast and unsurprisingly, it was a week of the unexpected.  The first event to come under that title, comes from Scott.  He was travelling to Gisborne to attend a board meeting.  He got to the top of the hill between Waipiro Bay and Te Puia Springs and lo and behold there is a fence that needs repairing.  That in itself is not unusual, in fact up here its pretty commonplace.  The sign however accompanying the fence was not, it read: "TWO BOXES FOR REPAIR OF FENCE".  A "BOX" of steinlager being one of the local green currencies...you can guess what the other green currency is, I am sure.  We haven't been back to Gisborne since, so are unsure whether the job has been completed and payment received.

The second unexpected event to befall us this week is an unwanted pregnancy.  Before you all panic, its not mine!  It appears that Iwa, the much mentioned three legged german pointer, is pregnant.  She is a total slapper and has gone and got herself up the duff to one of Scott's farm dogs.  Not just any farm dog either, but the least desirable one.  His name is Scruffy and he is the ugliest dog that ever there was.  He is a Beardie Cross that looks a little like Basil Brush.  His only redeeming feature is his personality, and even that is questionable.  If you had to compare him to a person, you would say he was the skinny weedy guy at the rugby clubrooms that talked himself up and that got into fights for having a smart mouth and pestering the ladies.  We had kept Iwa away from all the dogs while she was on heat but right at the very end of it, Scruffy came sifting up to the house and hanging around.  That's nothing unusual in itself as he is always up here trying to ingratiate himself and become a house pet.  I digress.  Long story short, the two of them disappeared for over an hour, couldn't find them anywhere.  Poor Iwa is now developing boobies and inspection from the vet has confirmed our worst fears.  The pups will be the hairiest retards you will ever see.  Perhaps they will make good hunting dogs?!?

Right, onto the third unexpected event that happened today.  I was busy teaching the kids in the outside room this afternoon when the phone rang.  I answered and a lady introduced herself and it turns out she is from Parliament and wanted my help.  She is the press secretary for a member of parliament (I won't say who).  She had been given our contact details by another relative who had contacted their office with some information (I won't say who or what) that they needed me to do some further digging on and clarify for them.  Very odd to think that little old me, in little old Ruatoria, could be of such use.  Apparently the member had been interviewed recently by Guyon Espiner and had made some remarks that needed clarification, based on something the member had been told by aforementioned relative.  I was able to give them the contact details and information they required so that the member could quote the source...well done me!!  I know its a little cloak and dagger, but I am loathe to reveal the details.

In other news, and not part of the unexpected files, we had a lovely visit from Scott's parents over the weekend.  We took them fishing down the blue bin and caught about a dozen stingrays, trevally, snapper and shark.  Scott even managed to nip out into his "pig pen" (bushy paddock beside the house) and knock off a 120lb boar for them to take home the morning they were leaving.  They were stoked.

Kids are really enjoying their school work this week.  Madi's online programme has now started and there are 12 kids in her class.  Some of them are kiwi kids based overseas and completing their schoolwork via Correspondence...so far we have been introduced to kiwi kids in Oman, Turkey and Peru.  The balance of kids are mainly like us in isolated rural locations.  Madi has made friends with another wee girl and they have been emailing flat out and as I speak are chattering away on the telephone.  Lizzie and Xanthe have now finished their literacy units on Bees and Mini Beasts respectively.  Haven't even looked at what is happening for next week.  Its a roundtoit to job!!  I was forced to telephone the Correspondence School today to voice my frustrations over their ridiculous maths programme.  I have asked to speak to the person in charge of that curriculum area.  Watch this space as I am going to lay down a challenge.  I think that some airhead educationalist somewhere is writing the programme, with no actual experience of the reality of Correspondence teaching, particularly with four kids.  My challenge to that person or persons is to come and try and teach the actual units to my kids and see how they get on!!!  Given that Lizzie throws chips at the intinerant teacher and dog peed in his laptop bag, they will be in for an experience.  I will of course keep you all informed of progress.

I'M BACK

Okay I know I started off with a hiss and roar.  It can't even be said that things tapered off, it just came to a complete standstill.  In my defence, its been an incredibly busy month or two, which is always the case up here over summer.

We have had pretty much back to back visitors since Christmas, which has been great and has brought a little bit of civilisation to our sometimes uncivilised environment up the Coast.  We are becoming quite the tour guides, taking all manner of people on sight-seeing trips around the farm and giving them the potted history of the local area.  Its been really interesting to get other people's perspective on the place.  Every bloke we have ever come across has been incredibly enthusiastic about what a great spot it is....but most of the blokes we know are part of that most male of bastions "the hunting fraternity"...who of course love being able to go out and get deer and pigs in quite close proximity to the house.  Successful hunting in a short space of time of course gives more time for drinking beer and there's been plenty of that going on in the last couple of months too.  At last count, we have had at least five separate visits from hunters since the beginning of December.  Hunting blokes of course are large eaters so I am getting pretty good at whipping up massively large feeds to keep their massively large motors going.

Scott doing a blackberry dive to get to the pigs.  Note canvas leggings

A litle more blackberry and gorse bashing

One dead pig

Scott and Boy with the pig.  The dogs who did all the work seem to not like the camera.

What's great is that most hunters are the salt of the earth type who just turn up and make themselves at home.  They always bring plenty of supplies with them (including beer, obviously) and don't expect the house to be spotless or me to look my best. They've always got a story or several to share and we get a lot of laughs out of it.  They always take meat home with them, and leave meat for us as well, plus it gets Scott out of my hair.  One of the groups of hunters has since discovered that he can go diving on the back boundary of the farm as well, so next time is bringing his dive gear as well as his pig dogs.  Hopefully that means a feed of paua and crayfish. 

Summer has also seen a bit of United Nations theme happening with visitors from Japan, the Netherlands, Texas and Auckland.  I include Auckland because compared to Ruatoria, Auckland IS a foreign country.  What has been most surprising is that all of the international visitors have been so keen to get stuck in boots and all to the Ruatoria lifestyle.  We have had them out horseriding, hunting, tagging cattle, drenching and dagging.  Matt from Texas was a hitchhiker we picked up who eventually ended up staying with us for two weeks.  We really enjoyed having him and learnt alot about the good ole U S of A along the way.   He certainly got the real New Zealand experience staying with us as Scott made him go out to work, even teaching him to dag.  We took him to a hangi at the home of one of our staff, who incidentally are affiliated with one of NZ's most notorious gangs, and of course he went pig hunting several times.  He's shot off up the Coromandel now for a bit of a rest I think, having been mobbed incessantly for two weeks by the kids.  Unfortunately for him he is a reasonably handsome sort of a chap and a few of the local wahines took a bit of a shine to him.  I did let on to some of them towards the end of his stay that he was quite partial to fried chicken and I wouldn't have been a bit surprised to see a queue forming down our driveway of locals all with plates of fried chicken for our young Texan friend.  I haven't actually let on to all of them that he has left yet, in the hopes that they may turn up with said fried chicken which I will of course be able to put to good use.