A Tale of Woe
A lot has happened in a year, and not much of it good, or so it has seemed. The disastrous business partnership took a huge toll mentally, physically and financially. Right from the point of deciding we needed to get out I decided that no matter how we felt about the situation we should put emotion aside and be nothing but pleasant, polite and professional. That backfired horrendously, with the other couple deciding this was a weakness they could exploit and in the end they screwed us over big time. Morals, scruples and ethics were nowhere to be seen from the other side. They weren’t even prepared to talk except through their lawyer while they dragged settlement out over a 9 month period and then to add insult injury they stung us for their lawyer’s bill.
I wasn’t happy but in the end hubby and I just threw up our hands and said enough is enough and walked away with what little sanity we had left.
I’ve heard so many horror stories about business partners splitting apart with unrestrained anger and animosity. I was determined we would be better than that. Surely if we were professional and courteous we would come out relatively unscathed? Why wasn’t that possible? I struggle to believe I’m really that naive or stupid. The other party had nothing to lose but seemingly all they could think about was what they wanted to gain.
So now I’m back fulltime at work trying to make up for our losses. At least I’ve enjoyed being back at work! Hopefully we can pay that debt off next August when the fixed mortgage comes up for renewal.
Livestock
We’ve been in animal reduction mode this year, although most people probably wouldn’t realise that. We’ve reduced numbers everywhere – cows, pigs, sheep, chickens and ducks. We just about have the numbers right except for the Runner ducks. I’ve debated with myself on and off whether to get rid of the ducks altogether. For great layers they’re actually pretty useless and for non-breeders they’re actually pretty prolific. They taste great but the lack of meat on them makes them almost too much hassle to process.
Permaculture
I really do think Permaculture is a wonderful concept, and to be honest it fits mine and hubby’s ideals more than straight organics. I really feel we’re starting to get somewhere with it in the vegetable garden. The only real issue we’re having though is our utilisation of animals. Standard permaculture practice includes animals, but it does tend to restrict their free-ranging abilities. This doesn’t really sit all that well with us so in essence we are trying to merge the 2 ideals together.
This of course creates a number of problems, which we are slowly but surely finding solutions for. The trick really is to keep trying things until we get the solution right and then not lose the plot when an animal eventually finds a weakness in that solution.
We did start the conventional way a few years ago, by adding a chicken tractor to our vegetable garden. However, the knowledge that we were free-ranging our vegetables and not our chickens was plaguing me with guilt and so we reversed our practice and let the chickens free and caged the vegetables. For the most part this worked. But the chickens were free 24/7 and when last winter hit they got fed up with their lot and went looking for more suitable digs. This unfortunately led them to take up permanent residence on the verandah.
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| Coppa the doormat! |
Enough!
Reigning In The Chickens
In the end hubby and I were forced to raid the bank account and dedicate several weekends of work to solve the problem. Even dad volunteered his weekends to the cause just so he could visit free from chicken harassment.
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| Wooden Pallet Chicken House |
That’s not to say things are perfect but once we’ve fully fenced the house site I think we’ll be sweet.
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| Chicken Run Curtain |
I suspect the odd bit will shred if a storm blows in but a recent HelpXer suggested an alternative solution should this happen. She has been to a number of farms in the US that apparently use string, in crazy, vertical patterns that allow the wind through but not the chickens. I love the idea as it could in theory be as artistic as one wants it. Damn, I’m almost wanting the netting to shred now!
Prior to the netting we did try using dried flax poles but for a vertical fence we needed hundreds. The horizontal version, with the flax seed pods still on worked for a while but eventually the chickens discovered the parts they could actually land on and that killed that idea.
So anyway, that’s the escaping issue taken care of (hopefully). The other problem we were encountering was the chickens scratching all the fresh vege waste from the compost onto the garden paths.
All our vege/compost gardens are on a slight downhill slope and it seems the chickens like to scratch the compost downhill to the edge of the bed and then onto the path. Once again we’ve enlisted HelpXers in the battle and they have erected tyre retailing walls at the back of several of the problem vege gardens. Now the chickens are scratching it to the tyres but not out of the garden. Much more manageable!
Woodchip Paths: The Compost Theory Actually Works!
Way back when we were designing the vege garden we took the advice of lining the paths around the vege gardens with only a thick layer of woodchip. The idea being that it’s a natural resource, that in theory it could be sourced from the property (although it wasn’t) and the chickens would enjoy scratching through it looking for bugs while at the same time turning over any poop they may have deposited in the process. Kind of an outside deep litter system I guess. Eventually the woodchip becomes compost.
In the last 6 months the woodchip has looked less than appealing so it was time to replace it. 2 months ago another HelpXer scraped it all up and put it into our vege gardens. And what fabulously rich, rotted compost it was. It was teeming with worms. We should have dug it up sooner but we had no funds to replace it. Eventually the funds became available though and after scraping up all the old chip the same HelpXer spread out 8m³ of new chip. Of course the new chip instantly made the gardens look fabulous, even in their state of partial repair.
We’ve also decided to trial the deep litter system in the 2 new chicken houses. Woodchip or sawdust is the preferred medium but we could only source post peelings at the time. As expected, these have proved too big for the chickens to turn. The upshot of it is that once a week we need to turn the chip in the houses. It takes about 15 minutes all up and requires a bit of muscle but so far the system seems to be working okay. Each week the chickens have a clean floor and there doesn’t seem to be any nasty bug or bacterial issues. I’m hoping we have the litter deep enough that we generate the heat required to counter these problems. I’m also hoping that in winter there’s enough heat generation to take the chill off the air for the chickens. The theory being that heat rises and the chickens all nest on high roosts so will benefit from this.
Then of course, there will be the manure-infused compost at the end of it, which will also end up in our vege gardens.
Getting Into The Christmas Spirit
It’s a sad state of affairs that as I get older I seem to have less time or desire to decorate my house. Once a upon a time it was an absolute must and I have a cupboard chock full of Christmas decorations to prove it. Maybe it’s not because I’m older though. Maybe it’s because I don’t have kids and there’s no one to appreciate it but me. As for hubby, he’s quite bah humbug about the whole affair.
However, it seems sad to not get into the Christmas spirit, so I’ve made the effort this year, but not at home. Instead my office and surrounding environment are an explosion of colour. There’s tinsel everywhere, and beads and baubles and decorations and… I couldn’t resist… a Santa’s Little Helper outfit. I am now radiating the Christmas spirit 8 hours a day.
Even some of the bah humbug employees are managing just a twitch of a smile as I walk past. What the hell eh? The eccentric in me wants to let my inner child out. It’s the one time of year I can get away with it and so I am.
For the most part the reaction is good. There’s the odd, stunned double-take but hey, if you want to be miserable about it…
I’ve had my photo taken several times and I have appeared on at least 2 Facebook pages from what I hear. I’m not sure that’s a positive thing though so the less I think about that the better.
Then a staff member from another department said to me yesterday that I’m quite the extrovert. Uhhhh, possibly not such a good comment. If there’s one thing I’m not it’s ‘extrovert’. I don’t even like going to fancy dress parties. So if I’m not extrovert and I don’t like dressing up in a safe dressing up environment that leads me to just one conclusion – I must be crazy. Damn.
Speaking of Christmas, I almost forgot about the obligatory Christmas mince pies. I only thought about them on Wednesday, which is hardly the time to be thinking about making fruit mince. Too bad. I made my fruit mince late Friday night. Of course it was only when I was making it that I realised I didn’t buy any mixed fruit and what I thought was brandy was in fact bourbon. So to my sultanas and currants I added dried apricots and a packet of antioxidant rich dried plums, cherries and blueberries. Which is just as well because I then added bourbon, cointreau and the obligatory whisky.
Saturday lunchtime I rolled out the pastry only to discover I don’t actually own small tart tins. What?? I know I’ve made them before so I’m wondering if they were part of the dodgy old rusty tin collection I threw away last year. Ah well. I pulled out the muffin tins and briefly contemplated muffin-sized Christmas mince pies. Hmmm. But then I realised my biggest pastry cutter was only tart size and so I put the small tarts in the big muffin pans and hoped for the best.
Mum and dad were visiting and 3 HelpXers were also there to judge my haphazard efforts.
Well wouldn’t you know it, they were a great success and the cointreau worked a treat, even if I do say so myself!
Shared Meals: A Sign of the Times
A couple of weeks ago friends invited us to a pot-luck lunch for this weekend past. Somehow I got pot-luck confused with a ‘bbq lunch’ and we took along raw lamb chops for the non-bbq.
I didn’t stuff up entirely though. Usually I’d take along a salad but I decided to throw caution to the wind and instead took along my new favourite, a raw, vegan chocolate tart.
Of course being completely discourteous I never RSVP’d and then when we arrived first it seemed like we’d got the day wrong. We hadn’t but half the guests had RSVPd a decline of offer. Still, there were a dozen of us and hubby and I had a good time. We ended up staying the longest because everyone else had other things they had to do and they flitted off all a bit too quick. That time of the year I guess.
None of this however is/was really the issue. No, what was the issue is that the invitation was pot-luck. Which my interpretation (bbq confusion aside) is that one makes a dish of something, savoury or sweet, and brings this to the party. One surely does not, as half the guests interpreted, bring something they grabbed at the supermarket on the way. Supermarket rolls, a container of dip, budget pizza, mini toblerones and bags of chips do not constitute pot-luck in my eyes. Thankfully there was potato salad and mesculin leaves provided by the host because all the savoury dishes contained concentration camp pork. Most surprising of all was that the vegan family, who surely struggle to eat at such parties, brought the dip and some carrot sticks. Hardly a healthy meal for their family of four.
The hostess kindly let me cook our chops on the stove so in the end I was happy enough.
The chocolate tart was not the success I anticipated. I had to mention it had nuts and fruit to avoid harming someone with allergies and that seemed to instantly squash any interest. God knows it looked wonderfully glossy and stunningly rich.
You must try the chocolate tart I told one of the females after she mentioned she was craving chocolate. Her eyes lit up, until I mentioned its obvious character flaw – that it was healthy. Suddenly she had an overwhelming craving for savoury food instead.
Am I really so far removed from reality now? I’m beginning to think I am. The shop bought products positively turned my stomach. It all looked rather like a sad kid’s birthday party thrown together by a ‘couldn’t care less’ parent. This was not the gastronomic affair I would expect from 40-something year olds.
Where were the pasta and rice salads, the quiche or frittata, the mini savouries? Where were the club sandwiches and the retro curried eggs, or asparagus rolls?
Are people in the city really so busy that they can’t even make their own hummus dip?!?
I’m working fulltime, running a farm and hosting HelpXers and still I manage to make my own bread, dips, alcohol, chutney and salads and do my own baking.
So are city people really busy or is it they can’t be bothered? If I think back to when I was a city person I remember thinking I never had enough time. Which is interesting because compared to now I must have literally had hours on hand. What did I do with that time???
Living this lifestyle has forced me to manage my time better. There are things I have to do and so I just do them. That’s not to say I get everything done that I want but that’s where prioritising comes in. I don’t care how busy I am, the next time I’m asked to attend a potluck or bring-a-plate function I intend to plan ahead and make the effort to provide really good food.
HEALTH: Conventional vs Natural
Not so long ago I was very much on the side of Conventional Health. Just as I was Conventional Agriculture and Conventional Horticulture.
Why would I doubt these medical and scientific experts? Years of training and thousands of $$$ of education were proof enough for me that I was in safe hands. I believed the media – Vitamins are dangerous and Natural health is something pushed by charlatans who are in it only for profit and they don’t give a damn about the suffering of others.
And then a sense of unease started to creep in as I started to discover that some of the things I held true were in fact blatant lies designed to mislead me.
Surely this new opposing information couldn’t be right? There must’ve been a piece of the puzzle that was missing, something I wasn’t seeing. After all, scientific studies proved the scientific perspectives didn’t they?
Documentary after documentary after book after magazine after anecdotal evidence is confirming again and again that to blindly trust conventional practice and theory is to put one’s life in danger.
More and more my husband and I test out natural remedies, treaments and practices and more and more we find the natural option over the conventional option is far superior. That’s not to say conventional doesn’t have a place but to assume all that is modern is superior is to do yourself a disservice. Corporations and governments constantly tell us what is best but the overriding factor behind their decision to do so is the almighty dollar.
Food: Raw vs Processed
I’ll be honest, I was, once upon a time (not so long ago), well and truly suckered into believing that scientifically formulated pet food for dogs was best for my boys. After all, according to ‘Research’ a raw meat diet is unhealthy for domesticated animals.
For over 5 years of their 6 year old lives they have been fed a medium priced brand of biscuit. This has been interspersed with the odd week here and there of fresh offal from some of our slaughtered animals. Yes I would have liked to have bought the most expensive, top shelf dog biscuit but it was a cost we just couldn’t stretch to.
And so my boys coped okay up until this year. Then I started to notice an increase in some issues – lethargy, less shiny coats, an increase in aggression, weight fluctuations and occasional skin problems. Add to this the increasing sense of dis-ease I was feeling every time I visited a veterinary practice and saw numerous posters about what product was best to purchase for your cat or dog if they had obesity issues, diabetes issues, allergies or age-related issues. WTF??
Now right from the word go hubby and I were determined to raise our pigs on a raw, fresh vegetarian diet.
So impressed by the results were we that in the last 12 months my husband and I have made a concerted effort to also eat more raw, fresh, vegetarian food.
I’ve even been feeling a bit stink about giving the chickens and ducks pellets.
So what about my poor dogs??
Dog Food: Reducing Aggression in Dogs
12 months ago I was convinced something was missing from their diet and my main concerns were Coppa’s increasing aggression levels and Whisky’s lethargy. I pondered this situation for a good 6 months, even religiously reading all the ingredient labels on the back of dog foods and changing what I bought to try make a difference.
Suffice to say that nothing much changed, except the price of the products I was buying.
And then I got to thinking about a chapter I read in a Felicity Lawrence book about the affects of Omega 3 on humans, specifically aggression levels in males. Research in a UK prison showed a marked decrease in aggression levels in male prisoners when given Omega 3 supplements. Was it possible dogs would respond in the same way?
And so we started giving the dogs a raw, free-range duck egg in every evening meal. Now the reason I chose duck eggs is because our ducks have the entire property and stream to free-range and they spend a lot of time sourcing wild food. The more free-range the bird the higher the Omega 3 levels.
3 weeks the growling had started to decrease and after 3 months the decrease in growling was not only quite noticeable but there was a marked improvement in his general demeanour.
I knew I was on to something and that more needed to be done. Just by chance I was discussing this issue with a colleague and he told me he was forced to revert to a raw meat diet for both his dogs after they developed some severe health issues. He insisted the change had been so good he would never feed his dogs processed food again.
He put me onto Jimbo’s wholesale pet foods in South Auckland. I checked them out and spent a few days working out what products would be best and then discovered the food would be cheaper that what I was currently paying for processed. I bought several products in bulk and then created a diet plan for my boys.
Breakfast now consists of minced green tripe, minced beef and minced beef offal
Dinner is chicken necks and egg
Everything is weighed so they get the right amount for their weight. They also supplement through hunting getting the occasional possum or pukeko and sometimes a wild bird that strays into the glasshouse.
After 3 months on this new raw meat diet I am so impressed with the change in my dogs that I will never ever, ever go back to processed foods.
What the hell was I thinking?!
Their coats are beautifully shiny and their demeanour is so much more pleasant.
Not only that but there appears to be another unexpected benefits.
Coppa’s hunting behaviour has changed. Not so much his hunting but his behaviour towards his catch.
Previously he has always eaten his catch. If he lived in the wild, as the submissive dog, this would never be allowed to happen. Here though, in the safety of domesticity he has jealously guarded and consumed every catch. This changed though when we changed his diet. Now when he catches something he brings it most of the way back to the house and then he drops it very deliberately for Whisky. Whisky then, in most cases, eats two thirds and leaves the rest for Coppa.
Gone are the jealous rages. Gone are the days when Coppa would lord over his prizes, growling constantly while Whisky fumed and fretted and plotted revenge. Coppa now not only hands over the prize but I swear he also does it with a smile.
It is clear to me now that the only reason he defied the natural law of dogs before was because we were starving him of vital nutrients that he can only get from raw meat. An instinctive need for these nutrients was overriding his instinctive need to follow dog law.
I should probably point out at this stage that our dogs are not 100% carnivores. When hubby and I sort through the many crates of fruit and vegetables for our pigs our dogs also have a sort through and they are very partial to Broccoli leaf steams, Cauliflower leaf stems, avocados and the occasional apple or cob of corn.
Where Does All the Money Go?
If there is one truth about owning a small farm, it is that money goes out as fast as it comes in. There is always something we have to spend money on.
Just when we think we are getting ahead financially, something comes along to quickly dispel that notion.
Usually it’s vehicle costs but car troubles aren’t our issue right now.
It’s fair to say hubby and I have felt slightly positive on the cash flow front in the last couple of months, and so we bought each other moderately expensive Christmas gifts.
Of course, as is the want of the universe, that was precisely when things decided to go wrong.
For 6 weeks we have been hanging out for rain. It’s hit Whangarei and Auckland but somehow it’s only ever got as close as neighbouring towns. So the upshot is our dam ran dry and with 3 HelpXchangers in the house we suddenly found our water tank getting horrendously low. With maybe only 2 days water left in the tank and no rain in sight we were forced to consider buying in a tanker load of water. Hubby phoned around and discovered it would set us back $500. How much?!
Instead we forked out $400 for a water pump and spent a whole day pumping water from a spring on neighbour G’s property. 5 of us took the opportunity to spend a day making sure everything and everyone was watered. We worked our butts off and then all came in at 4:30 to shower and to get a fresh glass of water to replenish thirsty bodies.
Hubby turned on the tap. No water. What??
We went outside and checked the house pump was plugged in properly. No issues there. We unplugged it and plugged in Aaron’s shaver. The plug was definitely working. We decided to give the pump an hour unplugged in case it had overheated.
It was Saturday afternoon just 3 days before Christmas. This was not a good time for a breakdown. What the heck was it going to cost for an electrician? What if an electrician came and told us we needed spare parts? Hubby went straight onto Trade me to ascertain what a new pump might cost us. He found someone selling new pumps, with 2 year warranties, from their home in Auckland. Unbelievably the seller was more than happy for us to go down that evening and buy a pump if we wanted to.
A new pump was going to set us back $600. Our old pump would probably cost less than that to fix but there was the unknown question of when it might get fixed.
We debated the merits of each option and then decided it was easier to buy a new one and then get the old one repaired. At least we can use the old one in the next house we build.
Anyway, we tried plugging our old pump in again. It hummed but it wouldn’t pump. We rang back the pump seller and told him we were on our way.
It was close to 8pm when we got home and the 2 of us set to removing the old pump and installing the new one. This was to give us about 2 hours of fun.
We couldn’t find a valve to stop the water draining out of the tank so it quickly became obvious that as soon as we removed the old one the water would come gushing out. The space under the house is too small for hubby to crawl under and although I could get under I’m not strong enough to lift pumps and unscrew fittings.
The pumps are also different sizes so that meant cutting off a small piece of the pipe between the tank and the house.
First we removed the old pump and then I jammed a piece of rag into the end of the pipe to stop the water pouring out. I had to hold it in place though as the water pressure was too strong to keep it there. Meanwhile hubby had to work between me and the pipe to get the new pump into place and connected. The upshot is things didn’t go as easily as we would have liked and we both ended up soaking wet and covered in mud.
Eventually the new pump was installed but the angle of the pipe connecting to the pump wasn’t quite right and so we had a slow but steady drip. Add to that the continually dripping tap in the laundry and we were leaking just a little too much for my liking during a dry spell.
It’s 9:30pm and I still haven’t made dinner. I’m tired and filthy but we have to eat. I walk over to the pantry and something catches my eye next to the fridge. There’s a puddle of liquid under the tetra packs of milk on the floor. Oh please no.
I look closer and realise it’s what I think it is. I have 20 packs of oat and almond milk next to the fridge and once again some sodding little mouse has been nibbling the corners of the boxes. The floor is a congealed mess of milk and I end up with $20 of ruined tetra packs.
I am suddenly frustrated beyond belief with the amount of money that is slipping through our hands this week and I let fly with just how I feel about the mouse and the money and the mess. I’m cleaning the mess and swearing and stomping and just going for it and then I look up and notice the livingroom has cleared of people. Oops.
The next day we send our HelpXers out to tackle the inkweed in one of the pig paddocks. After an hour or so the HelpXers return with the fork they have been using to dig out the roots. I had mentioned it was too dry to dig out the roots and that we would have to wait for winter but they have misunderstood what I am saying. Instead of just cutting and snapping the branches back to the base they have attempted to remove the roots as well. And there they stand with the gardening fork in one hand and 2 of the steel tines in the other.
Sometimes I can laugh these things off but not today. Hubby saves the day and has the laugh and I sit there aware my face is probably revealing my thoughts “Oh shit, there goes another $70” but I can’t help it. This week has cost us over $1000 already and it’s all repairs. That was our fencing money and it’s all gone.
Hubby sends a text to a plumber acquaintance and asks if he would consider popping in sometime over the Christmas break to help us out.
Not only does the pump leak need fixing but the laundry tap needs a ceramic disc replaced. I find out the place to buy the spare part is closed over the Christmas break. So we went and bought a cheap replacement tap down at Mitre 10. The other tap we’ll get a replacement part for and take it with us when we go. Or maybe we’ll swap it because I actually like the cheaper tap more!
Our plumber acquaintance arrived New Years eve and I showed him the pump and the leak. I explained we couldn’t find a valve and that it had been an absolute mission to get the new pump installed and then I walked over to the water tank and there, underneath a fern, is the valve. I turned it to the shut position. “Hey, we have a valve! And it works!” Plumber dude looks at me and laughs “So hubby had a man look did he?”
In less than and hour we had a new tap and no leaks anywhere. Then plumber dude comes into the kitchen and washes his hands. He comments that our kitchen tap is loose. “Yeah, the damn thing broke 18 months after we installed it. We’ve had numerous friends try to fix it but no luck.”
“Let me have a look” plumber dude says “Grohe, that’s an expensive brand. I know what your problem is, they use cheap crappy grease on the fittings. It goes hard and then your tap won’t move and then the whole tap works loose. Give me a couple of minutes”
Plumber dude plays around in the kitchen for 5 minutes.
“There you are, all fixed.” Hubby and I look at him suspiciously. Hubby gets up and checks it out.
“Hey, it’s fixed!”
Not quite convinced I check it out myself.
“OMG, you star!” Plumber dude has rapidly elevated himself to plumber god in my eyes and I frantically scrabble around in my brain for other plumbing issues he may be able to fix. Almost disappointed I realise there are none. We ply plumber dude with a range of meat and a few beers and hubby offers him petrol money but he declines. He’s more than happy with our offerings and hubby and I are convinced we got the better end of the deal.
