Thanks

I take stuff for granted. Most stuff. I guess that the vast majority of people do, too. I suppose that the very religious people among us give thanks for what they have and what they receive. And they do this on a very regular basis, maybe a few times each day, every day.

As for me - I’m much of a thankless individual.There have been at least two instances where I have had extreme difficulty in breathing – it’s not fun,not by any stretch of the imagination. Both were cases of medical problems – the one required mechanical ventilation, and was resolved after a few months. The other was “less” serious, and could be alleviated with inhaler therapy.

I have had issues involving the inability to use my legs. Surgical issues, which were remedied over time with physio. 

Given these examples, I find myself constantly asking about being thankful.

Today I am especially thankful. You will be aware that our domestic water situation has been somewhat depleted,with reserve levels dipping to an all-time low last week. But, after the past couple of days, the skies clouded over and we were delivered a few drizzles.

Nothing to trumpet about – all-in-all, about 5mm. But, hey, water is water, even though it is scarcely enough the settle the dust of the baked clay soil. But, we are thankful. At least the evaporation will slow down and the parchedness will be reduced. (You didn’t know that “parchedness” is a proper English word, did you? Well, it is. ps: I didn’t really know, either…)

So. So, I can breathe, I can walk, and we’re almost out of the drought. And, I’m thankful today.

With this thankfulness, I grabbed the camera and walked outside to the front lawn. Sock-footed.

The sky is still over-cast,but the air is humid and warm. The grass feels warm through my woolly socks. Just look how the yellow daisies have suddenly sprouted all over the place. Time to lie on the lawn and take some close-ups of their faces.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Lying down is not a good idea. In fact, besides poking out my eyes with a steel rod, lying down on my belly on the grass is probably the crappest decision.

Bzzz. Bzzz. The place is teeming with bees. Honey bees, bumble bees,wasp bees, wax bees, to bees or not to bees. Every bee under the sun, bobbing up and down over each of the bright yellow daisies. In fact, I think some of them are arguing about who has the pollen-right over some of the daisies.

And Reikorangi bees have no qualms about stinging me. Mostly my soles and toes.

(Above): You can clearly see the parchedness between the daisy areas.

Dodging areas of daisiness where the Bzzz is especially loud, I tip-toe around to check on the progress of the fruit growth. I suspect that there will be a general stunting and a reduced 2015 crop because of the parchedness. Here are a few pictures.

(Above): Last year, the quince crop was superb. However, the tree was cut back extensively during pruning,which had not been done properly for some years.We suspected that the fruit crop would be minimal this year, with a probable better showing in 2016. There are some quinces, which may be useful.

(Above): There are a few varieties of apples. Again, last year’s pruning may have affected this year’s crop. We will wait and see.

(Above):Just like last year, the chestnuts are going great  guns. We are waiting with bated breath to see whether the nuts will mature properly.

Last year, we had a bunch of bitter green Damsons (see photos below). I have counted the mature purple fruit this morning and I can report that there are about one billion. Give or take a few, a billion is close enough.

Just Half A Minute

“Do I write 7-4 7-4 or should I put 4-7 4-7, if I write my name first?” my opponent Stacey asked, as she studied the score sheets to be completed for the games of singles golf croquet we’d just completed.

As I looked up across the table and indicated the correct option to her, I noticed the hands on the clock hanging on the wall above her. This happened today, completely coincidentally. It was Ten to One.

“I think I won’t say anything for a couple of minutes,” I said in a low monotone. Evidently, either both Stacey and Jeanette failed to hear what I had said, or they both chose to ignore it.

While Stacey continued doing her entries in the results book, watched by Jeanette, coffee cup in hand, I sat quietly in another world. In another time-warp – a four-year-old warp. The clock pointed to Nine Minutes to One.

We had started our games some where around eleven-thirty/ forty-five-ish. I hadn’t noticed the exact time, and I hadn’t had reason to look or even think of the time. Until then, when Stacey had posed the question. 12:51

I cannot put into words what goes through my mind in these couple of minutes of silence, but Ric Stevens can do it professionally, better than most, as he writes:

 

“…It took 160 years to build the city of Christchurch. It took an earthquake 24 seconds to rip the heart out of it.

Some buildings were reduced to piles of masonry and concrete and twisted metal almost instantaneously. Hundreds of others remained standing but damaged beyond the point of salvation. A century and a half of human endeavour was wasted in less than half a minute.

But nothing of this compares with the human tragedy. In that half a minute, 185 people died or were mortally wounded. Others were maimed, injured, trapped and broken in spirit.

We measure our lives in the numbers of hours, days and years. Some numerical sequences assume a seemingly intolerable burden of loss and tragedy. Think of 1914-1918. Think of 9/11. Christchurch people cannot but think of 12:51 22/2/11.

That hour on that day will forever be a dividing point for Cantabrians. If you were there, the progress of your life will be measured in part by what happened before that time and what came after it.

If you were there, you will instantly know something of the common tragedy shared by all.

The experience is indescribable, but let's try. There is the noise; louder and more frightening than any thunder. There are pure, visceral forces of nature - movements of the elements that no muscle in the body can possibly counteract. There is the choking dust. And there is the fear; always the fear, to be rekindled anew a little with each of the thousands of aftershocks. You cannot fight any of it. All you can do is endure, and for some, at the worst time, to hope to survive…”

As of now (23:06pm on Sunday 22 Feb 2015), four earthquakes were recorded for to-day in the Christchurch region, fortunately  all below Magnitude 2.4, which is thankfully nowhere near the 6.3 of that fateful yesteryear lunchtime:

Cup Cakes

“I’m independent. I want to do it without any help from the rest of you. And, Tyler, that includes you, too. Except you can help me with the hot oven when I’m ready, Ok?”

One might almost think that Brynn is being a bit prescriptive and a tad bossy. She, on the other hand, would disagree.

At the end of the proceedings, I gave a hand by washing up all the utensils used to produce the final product, but I had to beg her twice to pack away the ingredients in the pantry.

 
(Above): The recipe, the ingredients required and method to be followed were all Googled and read out aloud during the batter-mixing process. Everything was weighed with utmost precision and accuracy,without any interference from an adult.

(Above): Part of the aftermath of the cake mixing process.

(Above): Hmmph! Where’s Tyler? He’s supposed to help me get these pans into the oven, isn’t he?

(Above): Yummy! 20 minutes later and the batch of 12 is ready. The icing has been prepared and she can hardly wait for the cup-cakes to cool down.

In Memoriam 22/2/11

On Sunday, the fourth anniversary of the events of 22/2/11 in Christchurch will be remembered. Quite by chance, we met a guy yesterday who had been mere yards from us shortly before 1:00pm that day. We exchanged recollections.

From The Press.co.nz , six shortlisted designs for the multi-million dollar Canterbury Earthquake Memorial were unveiled on Tuesday by ER Minister Nicky Wagner.

1. Memorial Wall with a reflective pond  --  This design is a long curving white "ribbon" wall of different heights and sizes. There are various "rooms" through the wall with the names of earthquake victims placed in lit alcoves in the wall. It includes a reflection pond.

2. Table and Chairs  --- A bronzed 55m x 60cm table and 185 chairs would be fixed on the site. Some of the chairs people could sit on, others would structurally support the table. Names would be embossed on a steel ribbon suspended above the table. The idea was based on the 185 empty white chairs memorial to the earthquake victims, which is opposite the site of the Canterbury Television building. 

3. A Green and Peaceful Landscape --- This involves a spiral path with a chestnut tree in the middle. At the centre of the spiral is a shallow pool with the names underneath the water. The design includes a bridge across the Avon River. 

4. Call and Response  ---  A sonic field of memory incorporating sound and engraved stone walls. This design includes a bridge and concave mirrors that reflect sound. Recordings, such as birdsong, would play. Victims names would be placed in alcoves. There would be a grove of Kowhai trees, which flower in February. 

5. Riverside Promenade   --- A remembrance wall on the Oxford Terrace side of the river with a row of cherry trees to honour the Japanese nationals who died in the quake. Pieces of historic facades from buildings would be incorporated in the promenade. 

6. A Curved and Inclusive Memorial Wall ---   Formerly known as the "Veil of Tears", this design forms a place of contemplation. Water would flow along the top and face of the curved wall over victims' names carved from greenstone. Stone terraces and an oval lawn could accommodate large numbers for civic events.

In a public opinion poll, I think I would vote for  the wall of remembrance, although the 185 empty chairs at the CTV building certainly sends a stronger message.

Dry, dry, dry…

Besides matters about vegetable gardening, fence erection and garden path construction, I sometime write about our weather – or, should I say, lack of rain. Today, the latter is the subject of this blog.

January has been the driest month of the 13 that we have experienced in Reikorangi. And now, 19 days into February, bringing us to 50 days in which we had a mere 26mm on 1st/2nd February. The ground is dry and the earth is parched and mud-cracked. Every plant within view is crying out for a drink. The blue sky is starting to cloud over in the west, but, according to Weatherman Dan, there is precious little chance of even the gentlest of rain-showers.

I dip the main drinking water tank. The wet mark lies at 1,400 litres. I look upwards at the dwindling clouds. Hmmm…

(Above): In just over an hour, JB’s water suppliers was standing on the verge outside, connected to our tank via a 100mm flexible pipe. At our service, was Karen (co-driver/ assistant) and John the driver of this 70-ton haul.  16,000 litres were earmarked for discharge into our tank.

(Above): John atop the ladder,keeps an eye on the 15-minute load discharge. What a friendly and pleasant fellow he is. Really a good marketing advert for his business.

There. If I had a bucket list,then that’s one experience I could cross off. I have never previously had the opportunity (or reason) to receive a road delivery of domestic drinking water.

Yum Plum

Last year we had a reasonable crop of plums from the solitary plum tree. This year, after a decent winter prune, some well-placed fertiliser and TLC,the crop is 1000% better, giving far more plums than we could use to make jam. However, we did our best.

One of the innovations was to enclose the tree with a hair-net to keep the foraging ever-hungry birds away. It worked very well, and very few fruits were lost to these little critters.

(Above): The plum tree, covered like Granny’s head with a protective hair net bird-net.

(Above): A shot through the net, showing the branches laden with plum-coloured …well, plums.

February Bottling

On Wellington Day Monday 19 January 2015, we made our first batch of brew, as described in my blog post “Bubble bubble.” The vessel has been standing on the shelf patiently waiting for us to come to the rescue.

Today 17 February, we decided that the primary fermentation process has been completed and the time has come to tap off the product into our new 750ml PET (re-usable) bottles. The decision was based on the fermentation period, as well as a favourable SG, as measured on our hydrometer. (note: NOT a hygrometer, which is a thingy used to measure the moisture content of the atmosphere – humidity.)

(Above): The brewing barrel as viewed from above, with the reflection of the kitchen window (and Brynn’s face peering into the brown-ness of the contents). The hydrometer floats peacefully around the 1.000+ mark. Good for a drink…

(Above): Brynn assisting Clayton in topping up the bottles to the exact volume in each.Tasks were (1) Washing the bottles, (2) Cold sterilising the bottles, (3) Filling each bottle, (4) Adding two lumps of fermentation sugar, (5) Capping each bottle, (6) rinsing and drying each bottle, and finally storing them in their boxes in the cool space on the garage shelf.

(Above): Checking the stash  of 30 x 750ml and packing securely for the secondary fermentation.We should be able to sample the brew in,say a fortnight.

Up The Garden Path 2

Previously I reported on the installation of garden path timber edging.

We will divide up project into:
1) Survey, measure and determine boundaries, slopes and levels;[completed]
2) Lay hard edging timber to flower beds; [completed]
3) Determine initial base levels to pathway walkways;
4) Lay approx 50mm of 12mm base-course aggregate;
5) Compact the base-course layer with a mechanical compactor (hire);
6) Select and procure stepping stones, lay stepping stones;
7) Fill top-coat of 3mm pea metal pebbles;

Today, we started with the hardscape surfacing if the walking surfaces with 12mm base-course aggregate.

(Above): This picture shows some of the prelim excavation to determine datum levels so as to lay an acceptable and suitable thickness of base-course and overlaying with a suitable thickness of pea metal pebbles. We have two sizes of paver on hand for consideration as use for stepping stones.  Decisions, decisions, decisions…

(Above): A close-up of the pea metal pebbles(nominal 3mm). In contrast to the dull granite grey of the base stones,the pea metal is a distinct dove-grey/sunset pink mix. I had a slight chuckle reading the cartage contractor’s delivery note, which listed 3m3 of pee metal.

(Above): Clayton and Tyler at work preparing zone 2 of the potager path at the pergola gates (not to be confused with those of St Peter)

(Above): The base layer on the potager path finally completed to gas bottle corner. Ready for the next phase – compacting down with water and vibrating compactor next weekend.

(Above): The ground being prepared and topsoil being removed at gas bottle corner. Getting the various slopes to see “level” proves to be a bit more difficult than was expected…

(Above): Preparation of the Secret Garden pathway. A few very obstinate tree roots were encountered in this stretch.

(Above): A view of the completed secret garden pathway looking north.

(Above): The final stretch between gas bottle corner and the runway lawn still needs some excavation and levelling before spreading the last six or so barrows of chip stone.

To be continued in a future post “Up the Garden Path 3”

In Retrospect

I am one of those “sloppy” writers. Yes,when I use paper and a pen or pencil in incursive, the result resembles a proverbial pre-eaten dog’s breakfast, but I’m actually referring to my (lack of) style of composition when “typing” on this keyboard on my laptop.

Let me explain, and offer my excuses.

Readers who are observant will remember that I was using a Dell Inspiron last year, until, all of a sudden, as computers do, it decided to go to computer-heaven, and I was left standing speechless on the shore of electronic communication, as it were. The Inspiron was no longer Inspired: he had lost his zest for life,after giving us so many years of faithful service.

It was around mid-October that Mr Toshiba entered our lives wearing his fashionable Windows8 garments, speaking a “hipper” language that old Dell. Armed with this spanking new keyboard, we no longer needed to check that the letter “C” actually appears on the screen when the key is pressed. (You may recall that it was, for some strange reason, a tad unresponsive on occasions.)

Now, in January, Clayton, who is professionally a computer architect person, cobbled on the deceased Dell with his computer brick-laying skills, turning to computer-resurrection… and abra-a-dabra… Old Dell started breathing again!

So, yes, this very post is being composed as we speak (and as you read, sort of) on my well-worn Dell key board. I really prefer it for ease of use, and leave the Toshiba for Jeanette. That’s the explanation.

The problem is that the letter “C” issue hasn’t gone away, that’s a genetic problem. Hence the possibility of you reading some posts containing a few strange words with the c’s missing. A second aberration relates to the space-bar. Since being confined to the computer infirmary, the space-bar tends to be a bit temperamental and requires a firm smack in the middle of his forehead, rather than a gentle tap on the shoulder. Each time I finish a paragraph, I skim through the text to correct any instances of these two errors which may have occurred.

So,ifyou should find that I have notsplit upsome wordsand othersseem to have theletter cmissing, please acceptmy excuseof poor composition style, rather that bad spelling!

What A Load Of …

I am proud to announce that I have a genius inventor son. You can guess where he got his brains from… I can’t, but they’re in excellent logical and processing order

We have been threatening for the past year to start processing all our garden waste into compost. But we haven’t, as yet. Not because we’re lazy (ok, maybe that, too), but because we did not have any proper facility. We have collected and stored the material down in what was previously the  tomato/ mealie garden, but it is simply just that – a dump.

This weekend, Clayton came up with the suggestion: we have a few spare palings, left over from the fence project. How about we use them as a ‘pilot test’ to make a garden composting unit?

To make one inter-locking ‘level’ , we used 4 1200x150mm palings and a piece of scrap 50x50mm stake. The stake was cut into 200mm lengths, and then nailed together to form a 4-legged ’box’ with internally recessed corners, so that the next ‘level’ simply slips down firmly in place.

(Above): The first attempt, showing four levels, totalling 850mm in height.The volume of compost which can be held in this tank is thus: 0.850x1.200x1.200 = 1.224 cubic metres

(Above): A photo of the inside view of the composter, showing how simply each level fits snugly into the level below. A single level can easily be carried around and replaced by one person, while the 4-level unit, as shown above, can be comfortably carried by two people. Once I have tried out the contraption,I will report back my findings.

Patent pending: JA2015/001/0000001/00/1

The Rimu Bed

It might seem that I am sometimes preoccupied with gardening stuff. If you think that this has some truth in it, you’d probably be right.  Today, our second veggie bed gets a bit of the limelight.

In keeping with the idea of naming the beds after native NZ trees,rather than numbering them, we have decided to call it RIMU:  Dacrydium cupressinum, commonly known as Rimu, is a large evergreen coniferous tree endemic to the forests of New Zealand. The former name "red pine" has fallen out of common use.

 
(Above): We excavated a grassed rocky area of 4 metre x 3metre (to give a 5 metre diagonal,so that we could get the boundaries square-ish (actually rectangle-ish,for the purists).This is a photo of the area with the 185x45mm tongue-and-groove retaining timber fixed in place. We excavated down about 300mm and sifted the soil of rocks, pebbles and roots on a 10mm sieve.

 
(Above): Once, the digging and sifting processes were completed, we could carry on with mixing the resultant ”cocoa” with compost  roughly the ratio of 3:1 ratio and back-filling in layers in a ‘lasagne-style’

(Above): The volume measuring was done carefully with 10-litre buckets (100 buckets to the cube) in approximately 50mm layers and inter-mixed by raking,which also helped to keep the total 12m2 area level-ish.

(Above): Once the mixing and filling work was completed, the surface of the bed and the surrounds were made ”pretty”. The bed will be used for sowing in-situ seeds on an experimental first season basis. Beet-root,spinach and leeks were sown in rows across the bed as above, and then watered well. In the picture above, the rest of the sowing must still be done, including some specialised block-sowing of Parsley,Sweet Basil, and the like.

One might query the block fence around the edges. The explanation is in two single words – one word is ‘Labrador’ and the other word is ‘Labrador’.

Double Bubble

A couple of weeks ago, I recorded the mixing of our first beer brew in the garage (see Bubble bubble here). Now, three weeks later, I can report that the ‘bubble bubble’ has slowed down to a gentle quiet ‘bub’ which indicates that first fermentation reaction is nearing completion, and within some days we will bottle the batch for its secondary fermentation, lasting about three weeks. The quality of the beer improves, apparently, the longer it remains on the shelf at that stage. As I still have vestiges of the paint manufacturing industry in my veins, I have called this Batch 2015/1.

A neighbour friend has now loaned us his fermentation vessel, and we now have a second batch of “Aussie” beer in the production line. (That’s a posh way of saying ‘in the garage’). The result of this Coopers brew (which not surprisingly, will be known as Batch 2015/2), will mature three weeks after batch 2015/1.

(Above): Our Fermentation Dept, with Batch 2015/2 (Aussie Copper Tun) on the left, and 2015/1 on the right.

When you walk into the garage now, there’s a new sound of new bubbling,with added fervour. I am not sure whether the added fervour will improve the flavour, but time will probably tell. We should be able to report back in about 8 weeks. Watch this space…

Have You Heard?

I find it almost incomprehensible how much our human interactions have changed over the past three decades. And virtually all of the change can be ascribed to the development of computing devices.

(Above): It’s almost like yesterday when I was at work sitting in front of a TRS80 (RadioShack) like this one,waiting for the little red lights to flash on the external drives to swap floppy discs.We even had extractor fans in the wall for the hot summer weather, just in case of possible electronic overheat!

Long ago, when you went on annual holiday, you’d write a letter to your best friend when you returned home, telling him/her all about it. In exceptional cases, you might even pop down to the pharmacy and order a reprint of the best holiday pic (out of the six or so that you may have taken at the beach) and include it with your letter. Three weeks after the event, your pal would read with fascination about your escapades.

Today, 30 years on, “some” people casually take a selfie in the supermarket, and post it on Facebook or similar, and forward it to a few dozen “friends” via Twitter-like media with a  typically important comment, like “Me choosing some yummy new potatoes for dinner at Superjoe’s.”

Only to be outdone by one of those ”friends” (you know who they are) sending a contra-selfie saying “Me and Ben (sic) popping onto our Airbus A380 bound for Dubai (nothing less than first class seats for us, says Ben, ’cos I deserve it). Enjoy your spuds!” 

Three decades ago, we hardly knew what was happening in other parts of the world until it had become history. The newspapers might conceivably have been a day or two behind the times, whilst the sports newsreels in the bio-cafes and cinemas were usually weeks in arrears. But, no matter, we were overjoyed being able to witness the two-minute Pathe excerpts from a Twickenham game,or someone slamming a tennis ball across centre court at Wimbledon. Remember the Manchester United air disaster at Munich airport back then (1958)?

 

Today, minute-by-minute updates of hostage or war situations flash on our mobile phone almost before they happen!

The constant barrage of oversupply of information in the minutest of detail has led to great difficulties for some people, as to deciding which part of the info-universe they should try to keep up with,and has made interpersonal conversation quite difficult for some.

I will not be around to witness it, but I wonder what the world of human interactions will look like in three decades to come, 2045. For me, that in itself is a strange number for a date.

Counting Our Blessings

In so many parts of the world, people take clean potable water for granted – a fact of life. In many under-developed and remote arid parts, people are struggling, many of them and their livestock dying of thirst.

We are fortunate enough to live in a first world country with plenty of water, sometimes even too much rain. Unlike or urban counterparts in the cities,towns and villages who received piped water from council or state reservoirs, we out in the country rely on rainwater collected from the roof.

For obvious reasons, we tend to keep an eagle eye on the water level in our tank during the dry summer days. Yesterday, our dip reading was a bit below 1,900 litres and the rain started falling after a month of absence.This evening, after measuring 29mm of rainfall, we all stand together, and count our blessings of a dip reading of 10,150 litres.

(Above): The current radar picture showing the low pressure area travelling towards to east (yellow arrow). We are located just east of Kapiti Island (tip of the red arrow.)

And, with radar promise of more showers to come during the week. We are able to count our blessings, all 10,000 of them. Unlike so many millions around the world.

Up The Garden Path…

Is this Autumn? Is it the dry weather? Is it an aeroplane?

Slowly but surely over the past week or two, the layer of yellow leaves has progressively been thickening in places throughout the garden, especially along the Secret Garden pathway, as captured in the photo above.

Humankind, especially the British leg of humankind, has always been pre-occupied with pigeon-holing and naming stuff. Like, for example, the four seasons, and what each season is supposed to do.

In New Zealand, we know that all the Autumn things must happen during March, April and May. Therefore,the trees have got it all wrong around our area – they evidently didn’t get the email about leaf-dropping not being permitted during the last month of Summer… someone may be in for the chop…  

I have tried in vain to check up on plausible reasons for this delinquent behaviour, and what might be done about it to avoid a recurrence. If I may be permitted,I would like to share with my readers the following from Ali Bell*¹:

“…On the first of March something strange happens – television news reporters inform the citizens of Aotearoa/New Zealand it's the first day of autumn. A significant proportion of those hearing this news live in Auckland and Northland. Folk begin to exclaim the new weather conditions and friends send emails overseas telling of the dawning of a new season. The trouble is – it's in all probability a nonsense of enormous Eurocentric postcolonial proportions…”

“…If you think it is the first day of autumn on the first of March, you are being sorely deceived, and perpetuating a fiction generated by homesick northern European colonials, having brought their trout and oak trees among many other reminders of Britain. This fiction gets further supported by the embarrassingly stupid and immature-nation epithet that New Zealand is more English than England, most recently broadcast to the world unfortunately, by Prime Minister John Key on The Late Show with David Letterman, that New Zealand ‘is like England’ (‘without the attitude’)…”

“…The answer at its most simple is a bunch of European dudes got together in 1780 and decided that the year should be divided into four seasons of equal three-month length. This is a true state for continental central and northern Europe where there is a much greater temperature range than on our place on the planet. Quite simply, the news reporters say it's autumn because the calendar tells them so…”

*¹   Ali Bell is a freelance teacher, writer, editor and journalism graduate from AUT University. She divides her time between Sweden and Auckland – not being able to convince her grown-up half-Swedish children to leave the magical 21 degrees celsius of Auckland.

AUT is Auckland University of Technology (in Maori: Te Wānanga Aronui o Tāmaki Makau Rau)