So Far So Good

27 November 2009

Now 6 days old the little ducklings are doing well. They had a sibling born 2 days later but it was very sick and died that evening.
I looked in to the nest on Sunday when mum and babies were out for a walk and cleaned out 5 unhatched eggs. With great hesitation and holding my breath I smashed them open. 4 were unfertilised and the 5th contained a dead duckling. The smell of rotten egg is quite frankly nauseating and not something I think I want to repeat anytime soon.

This duck had built her nest in the duck house, where we had covered the ground in hay. Her nest was huge and the eggs were all hidden between layers of straw. I suspect they didn’t stand a chance. I hope we have a better success rate with the next duck, who we have left to get on with it naturally under a fern. She is due to hatch hers this coming weekend.

Watching the little ducklings has been an absolute delight. Their mother has them walking all over the paddock and with their tiny little feet I wonder how they don’t collapse with exhaustion. Their swimming abilities are awesome. They sail across the pond at such speed it’s quite remarkable. They eat virtually non-stop and we just keep throwing them baby chook crumble. Unfortunately the local sparrows eat half of it but there’s not much we can do about that. It is fortunate that most of the adult duck food gets submersed in water.

We also have another duck just gone broody. That one was quite accidental. I had showed our HelpXer Sam all the different nesting spots but he had forgotten one and within a few days one of the ducks had got herself a clutch of eggs and sat herself down on a semi-permanent basis. I decided to leave her to it.

I’d really like a dozen more ducks to add to the 10 we currently have and so if we have 3 ducks hatching ducklings we might just come close. Of course more ducks means more food but with a good supply of eggs we can set up a roadside stall and sell eggs at the gate. The sale of 4 dozen eggs a week would easily cover the cost of keeping 24 ducks.

And What Of The Chickens?

Well, both hens ended up going broody and insisted on sharing the one nesting box. This caused some aggression and they subsequently broke open one egg. Unbelievably, despite the nauseating stench they both sat on the putrefied contents of the egg until I forced them off it. I cleaned up the mess, retching until my stomach ached. There were 4 eggs left and after cleaning up the nesting boxes and house I put the eggs back. This weekend I’d had enough. The eggs hadn’t hatched and 2 more had been broken with equally nauseating results. The other 2 were emitting a bad smell as well and so I removed them and the nesting boxes.

I expected the girls to stop their broody behaviour, but no, they are now sitting on the floor of their house with no eggs underneath them. They continue to eat but will not leave the house and have not laid any eggs for 4 weeks. Apart from blocking them from entering their house for a day I’m not quite sure how to snap them out of it.

Lifestyle Changes

I have managed to source a pirated copy of Food Inc until I can purchase my own copy. We watched the movie again with our HelpXer and CouchSurfer. They were equally horrified by the contents and both vowed to make some changes to the way they now shop.

For us it has literally been life changing. Aaron and I can no longer assume ignorance of the food we eat. After several weeks of shopping smartly I can now get around the supermarket with relative ease. Unbelievably Countdown Whangarei (where I shop) has at least doubled its organic range in the last fortnight and not only that but put many of the items in line of sight.

My food choices are now much more limited, but surprisingly in a good way. My product choices have suddenly become a lot healthier. I’m having to increase my use of fruit and vegetables (locally grown of course) as well as beans, pulses, grains, seeds, etc. While the items are all more expensive than budget brands, I’m buying less, eating better and spending roughly the same amount of money. I hadn’t thought we were eating unhealthily before but apparently we could do better.

Now when I get to the supermarket counter and place my purchases on the conveyor belt (and pull out my reusable bags), I find myself wanting to leap up and down and shout “Look, I’m doing my bit to save the world, what about you lot?!” I don’t of course. Instead I pull out my supermarket loyalty card and swipe it, knowing that someone, somewhere is taking note that the purchase of organic goods is on the increase at Countdown Whangarei. I’ve logged onto the Internet and altered the purchase preference of my loyalty card to Organic. Just as it says in the movie, I am the consumer, I have the ability to effect a change. It’s strangely empowering to know I can actually make a difference.

The Food Inc movie will now become, along with all our River Cottage DVDs, standard watching for most of our guests. It’s part of the deal really; if you stay with us then you must learn the importance of eating well and knowing where your food comes from. We expect each guest to change at least one food purchasing perspective during their time with us. We know we cannot save the world but if we can change the world one guest at a time then we will have achieved something.

Perhaps we can save one pig or chicken from a life of misery, one local vegetable grower or orchardist from quitting the land or maybe one block of land from being poisoned with man-made chemicals.

We are lucky really that we don’t have children as that gives us the opportunity to invite many global strangers into our home, where we can impart the knowledge we are gaining from our own experiences.

So many of these tourists are young and pre-family, full of enthusiasm for life and for learning about the positive things that they themselves can do to effect change.

As we become more passionate about our lifestyle choices it becomes easy to teach without preaching. We do not tell our guests what to do. Instead we tell them and show them what we do and why we do it. In return many of them ask questions and respond positively to our ideas.

I had no real plans to become a hippie, a greenie or an eccentric Northlander but it seems my life is now heading in that direction.

Sticking To One's Principles Is Not Always Easy

There are some things I am no longer prepared to do.

I cannot and will not eat pork or chicken products that are not free-range. I tell people this and for the most part it is met with a positive response from seemingly like-minded people.

It would seem there are many people who feel the same way. And yet…

It seems people are only too happy to commit to purchasing only free-range from the supermarket but when it comes to ready-made food purchases / choices (e.g. cafĂ© or restaurant food, staff function, weddings, etc) then many people’s commitment slips.

It is not until you make that total commitment that you realise that the world is addicted to caged pork and chicken products. Even the vegetarian options aren’t safe. Let us consider – Ham sandwiches, egg sandwiches, bacon and eggs, scrambled egg, eggs Benedict, Hollandaise sauce, mayonnaise, quiche, custard, meringue, pavlova, salad sandwiches (invariably with egg and mayonnaise), etc

I have lost count of the times I have walked out of cafes empty-handed after being faced with virtually no options.

I wanted to attend the staff Christmas party this year but after crossing the non-ethical items off the menu I am left with beef & lettuce followed by fruit salad. How wonderfully festive! And so I’ve saved myself $25 and left my name off the list of attendees. I do however note that several of the party goers are supposedly also advocates of ethical farming. Perhaps I shouldn’t judge; maybe they like beef and lettuce.

My brother is getting married in March. I told him that we only eat ethical food and if it was a problem we would bring our own. I was certainly prepared to bring my own but he was kind enough to ensure we could eat with everyone else.

It’s not easy. We don’t wish to offend yet at the same time we don’t wish to compromise our principles.
We have been to other people’s places to eat and insisted on reading the ingredients labels on packaging. Yes I acknowledge we probably offend, and no we don’t always get it right but we certainly try.

Coppa Sit!

And so here we are several weeks down the track after implementing a more disciplined approach towards our dogs and my goodness what a change.

The daily reinforcement of having to sit before scratches, before meals and before going through gates has turned an unruly, unhappy Coppa into a very happy dog. The constant dog fights have almost ceased and when they do start they are quickly over.

Even with our HelpXer Sam around we are still managing to maintain a calm environment.

Coppa tests us constantly though. Although he has no hesitation about sitting when I bring him his bowl, when he gets to the gate 80% of the time he pretends not to hear or notice where we are. He will stand in front of the closed gate and gaze off up the hill as though searching for bunnies. He very deliberately tries to look as though he is completely lost in the moment, unaware of our presence. We did initially wait and wait and wait until we were forced to reiterate the command through a stomp, a tap on the bottom or a very loud command but then Aaron came up with the solution.

As soon as we get to the gate Whisky sits and we let him through. Coppa cannot stand the thought of being left behind and so he inevitably sits within a very short space of time. Occasionally impatience will get the better of him though and he will make to run under the gate, at which point a very strong “Sit!” sees him flatten his body to the ground, where he stays until we utter the magic words “Okay then”

It’s strange, he hates the discipline and yet he is much happier for it. All he wants is to know is who the boss is and where he fits into the hierarchy and it makes him feel calm and secure.

The other great discovery that has come from the regular use of the “Sit” command, is that when Coppa has one of his moments – and by moments I mean when he growls at Whisky for doing something he dislikes; which could be absolutely anything and usually is – if I command that he sits, which he does, and then demand he “Play nicely” it quickly diffuses the situation. Coppa will instantly walk over to Whisky and lick his face as a sign of submission and we’re back on track again.

The word “Sit” has quite frankly transformed our lives. If only it worked on humans as well…

Does ‘Sustainable’ Apply To Everything?

I’ll admit it, sustainable living isn’t high on my list of priorities. I don’t mean to be so callous but it’s a subject I find it hard to get my head around.

Sustainable fishing I understand; the earths waterways are being brutalised and much sea life is being driven to extinction. I believe in and intend to do my part in that area of sustainability. For instance, now I only buy tinned tuna and salmon from Sealord as they advised me by email that they are strongly into sustainable fishing and minimising environmental impact.

But what of other areas? When does sustainable apply and when doesn’t it?

What about the snails? Now that I'm on this ethical, organic, sustainable kick I have a dilemma.

Each morning at 4am, when I feed the pigs and walk the dogs, I also collect snails for the ducks. Most mornings I collect about a litre of them. On dry, warm mornings I may only get 30 or 40 but on wet
mornings it can easily be 2 litres or more. Now here's the thing, for the most part I collect every snail I see, except for the tiny ones.

In a way it’s genocide, although to be fair I don't actually kill the snails, I just throw them (release them?) into the duck paddock and well the ducks make the choice whether to eat them or not (which invariably they do). So am I actually really killing them? I mean they could in theory get away if they could run fast enough.

So, here's the thing, should I be sustainably farming them? I mean, here I am filling the bucket every morning in order to save on duck feed. At some point they’re going to run out and I’ll be spending more on duck feed. But the thing is, these snails are an introduced pest. They're eating plant material our livestock should be eating. Our ducks love them and it's free feed.

Is there such a thing as sustainable snail harvesting/farming?

Turning Something Great Into Something Wonderful

19 November 2009

A couple of Monday’s go we had an appointment with the butcher. He was buying 2 of Mabel’s piglets from us and we had to deliver them and hopefully talk business.

We arrived with our piglets and from the start the conversation seemed to go in completely the wrong direction. It seemed to me that he had changed his mind and I felt quite gutted. He said wasn’t happy to have pigs slaughtered in an abattoir, but as we said, we aren’t either but the NZ regulations prevented any alternative. He suggested we try to do business with another pig farmer who had secured a deal to provide pigs to a national fast food chain. I was confused and frustrated but Aaron, as always, is a fast thinker and talker and kept pushing the benefits of the original plan.

Like us, the butcher also has a major problem with the lack of empathy for animals when they go through a commercial abattoir. However, it's illegal not go through an abattoir. And so he said to us that he would be happy if we could build an abattoir ourselves to cater for his needs.

Say what?!?

Yeah sure, I'll just whip out that half a million dollars sitting in my bank account to build an abattoir so I can make $3,000 a year selling my pigs just to him.

I was quite blown away by his thinking. Surely he realises we don't have a lot of money and not only that but he and his wife are most obviously loaded. Their property is in the hills above Waipu Cove and has the most stunning views. Their driveway is 900 metres long and it's all concrete. Their driveway alone is probably worth more than our block of land.

It was all very odd. In the end all we want to do is raise a few pigs ethically and cover our costs. We're not doing this to make our fortunes. If he doesn't want them we have other avenues to explore.

Still, he invited us to sit and talk some more. His wife appeared with bottles of German beer and then a platter with slices of cured sausages, salami and ham.

We sat and ate and talked for a couple of hours and he praised the quality of our pork. The meats were absolutely divine and I couldn’t help but stuff myself with slice after slice. The conversation was all very friendly and positive and then a friend of theirs turned up and it seemed rude to continue talking business and so we talked about other things until eventually we had to leave.

We then walked 2 very travel-sick piglets into a penned off area and as I gently rubbed their bellies they leaned their little snouts into me and looked at me sadly. I wanted so much to just sit there and hug them all better but I could feel my throat constricting and the tears welling up. Instead I stood up and walked away and tried not to think about their eventual fate. We got in the ute and left.

Aaron emailed him the next day and told him what we would have to charge per weaner and the quantity we could supply and we waited for him to reply. We waited all week and despite sending several emails and phone messages they did not reply. Saturday arrived and Aaron decided that morning that he was going to have to drive back to their place to ask what the problem was. And then 30 minutes later his phone rang.

They had been very busy. They had also become very attached to the piglets we had sold them. They wanted to talk some more.

From Truffles to Abattoirs

Just over 5 years ago Aaron and I had found our calling. We were destined to be truffle growers. We envisioned orchard after orchard of hazelnut trees and an orchard of truffles.

We searched and found (more than once) the perfect property, acres and acres of land perfect for a life of horticulture. But the perfect properties slipped through our grasp and the block we ended up with proved to be less than ideal. Dreams of truffles eventually became dreams of free range pigs and now we finding ourselves suddenly looking down a path previously unconsidered.

After returning home from our Monday meeting with the butcher I said to Aaron “Is he crazy?? How the hell could we build an abattoir? Why would we build an abattoir? I want to raise pigs not kill animals for a living.”

“I know people in the food industry. You never know what I might come up with if I ask around”

“Whatever. It’s a stupid idea. We have no money. We don’t know the first thing about abattoirs. I’m not interested.”

And then an hour later, somewhere in my brain a lightbulb switched on.

Aaron's brother was home for the week. He'd come home to Kaiwaka to tell his wife he wanted a divorce. It seems that they had come to an agreement that she would stop fooling around with married men in Kaiwaka. But alas she did not. Aaron’s brother is pissed off (understandably) and he now faces some huge changes to his future life plans.

So here's where the lightbulb flicked on. His job is everything we despise and detest about farming. He designs and oversees the construction of European abattoir systems that process factory farmed animals almost faster than they can be produced. He travels the world helping to perpetuate mass cruelty to animals.

Was it possible he could design a small-scale, ethical, abattoir which would be built solely for small farmers like us?

Tuesday night he came around to our place. He wanted to take Aaron to the pub so he could get drunk and Aaron could talk him out of murdering his wife and her lover.

Although not entirely appropriate given the circumstances, I asked Aaron if he could talk to his brother about designing an abattoir.

Bingo. He liked the idea. He has now left the country again and he will return sometime between now and the end of January - hopefully with some plans.

A Friend For Mabel?

Friday night the new girl was delivered. After several years living in a large paddock behind Kaiwaka Clothing, the Wessex Saddleback was without a home. Several weeks ago the owner of Kaiwaka clothing had seen our pigs as he drove by and had dropped in on the off-chance we could offer his pig a new home. Aaron said he was keen. I ummed and ahhed and eventually said yes.

So for several hours we debated names – Gertrude? Hilda? Agnes? Etc

Meanwhile the new girl stayed in the old stockyards overnight. Mabel, glared at her from the other side of the fence. She was clearly not happy with the new arrival. We encouraged her to be friendly.
“Mabel, be nice to the new girl. She’s going to be your friend so make her feel at home.” The new girl grunted and Mabel huffed irritatedly at her from the other side of the fence.

We kept tossing names around and then eventually said goodnight to the girls.

“I think she needs a pretty name. What about Rose?” I said
“Rose? Hmmm. Rose is good”
“Let’s sleep on it”

Friday night Marty came round for dinner and drinks and on Saturday morning Aaron and Marty took the breakfast buckets down to Mabel, opened the gates and walked Mabel, Emily, Olive and Rose up the driveway to the paddock opposite the shed.

Tubs and Spotty were in the back of the ute, eating their last meal before Aaron drove them around to the Homekill. I was sad to see them go and would have no doubt shed quite a few tears was it not for Mabel and Rose getting a bit physical. It certainly wasn’t vicious but they exchanged blows and scratches and with the 2 young girls running around I was worried one of them would get hurt.

For several hours the girls walked warily around the paddock. Rose to check the boundaries and Mabel to watch Rose. Mabel was clearly very upset but Rose had given her a good whack and Mabel was unwilling to instigate any more conflict.

It was fortunate we had two sleeping areas – the shed and the van. Rose ended up in the 2-bay shed and Mabel and her girls tucked themselves up in the van. It was completely the wrong way around but we hoped they’d resolve their differences within the week.

Help Arrives

Only 3 days after reactivating our HelpXchange account we got a request from Sam. He was due to arrive by bus on Saturday but the bus never picked him up so he arrived at Sunday lunchtime.

We also had CouchSurfer Craig turn up on Sunday evening.

We pretty much got Sam helping us straight away. Nothing major, just helping to feed out, walk the dogs and make up some meals.

Craig the vegan, on a sustainability tour of NZ, arrived in the evening. Normally we would not say yes to vegans or New Zealanders looking for accommodation but we were intrigued about why he wanted to stay with us.

I made a vegetarian dinner for all of us and as far as I’m aware it fit the vegan bill as well. We learnt a bit about Craig but he didn’t reveal much about his plans or why we were one of his stops. He asked if he could return Wednesday night and so we said yes. We assumed he would reveal more.

And so Wednesday night Craig returned. We had steak and pasta for dinner, although Craig passed on the steak. He is quite an eccentric character and quite frankly neither Aaron or I managed to figure out why he came to stay, except that he needed a place to stay.

Aaron gave him a lift to Puhoi Thursday morning and from there he continued his journey south. We are none the wiser. He is writing a blog about his journey for Good magazine so perhaps that will reveal how we fit in.

While not offended that he came and revealed or asked little, I think we are unlikely to host Kiwis again. We have had several experiences now with Kiwis and quite frankly the benefit to us has been minimal. Our overseas guests, for the most part, seem to really appreciate their time with us but Kiwis just seem to be completely indifferent and uninterested in us.

Sam has fitted in well. He is quiet and perhaps a little unsure of himself but he is not the least bit offensive. At this stage we don’t know how long he will stay but he said he would like to stay 2 weeks and we have decided that would be okay.

The Waiting Game

So now we have 2 broody ducks and 2 broody chickens all sitting on duck eggs. By my calculations the first lot of ducklings were due to arrive on Saturday but Saturday came and went and no ducklings. So did Sunday and Monday.

Aaron and I discussed what we should do. The eggs sales are slow and I’d just had to boil 3 dozen duck eggs to feed to the pigs. What the hell, we’d let her sit until the end of the week and then move her on.

Wednesday evening I arrived home. Aaron said he’d had to take food down to the duck under the fern as she didn’t come up the hill for dinner. The girl in the duck house had come out though, along with 3 little ducklings. In fact, not only had she brought them up the hill but she had also taken them for a tour of the paddock.

I was very keen to see our first ducklings so I went to have a look. Disappointingly mum was back on her nest with no babies in sight and then out from underneath popped a fluffy, yellow duckling. It waddled around the nest for a minute then tucked itself back in.
That was good enough for me.

And so now we wait to see if they survive. Apparently only half the battle is waiting for the eggs to hatch. Their first few weeks are fraught with danger. Unbelievably drownings are a big problem for ducklings. Enthusiastic mother ducks apparently often over-estimate the abilities of ducklings.

We did in fact put a small wall of bricks around the duck house to enclose any ducklings born but this turned out to be no barrier at all. So we will wait and see what happens with these ducklings and then decide what to do with any subsequent births.