Rick and I each picked up a long stick on the way down to the bottom paddock.
The bottom paddock: scene of the crime
We were about to chase some sheep off our property, and if one thing was certain it was that we had absolutely no idea what we were doing.
This was during our first summer here, when we were even less experienced at country life than we are now — if that’s at all possible.
But how hard can chasing sheep be? They’re just sheep. They’re fat and slow and stupid. Right?
11 Comments | 
New Zealand, Paddocks, Sheep & cattle | 
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Posted by Moon Over Martinborough
Podcast available.
Old Man Henry is our geriatric rooster. He is mangy and decrepit. The feathers on his head are just quill stubble. He’s half blind, bow-legged, and he pauses strangely after every step.
Old Man Henry
On certain misty mornings, when the light is right, he looks as though he’s stepped out of some twisted chicken fancier’s version of Dawn of the Dead.
Yet this unlikely old man is a Nobel Peace Prize winner among poultry. And it is by peacekeeping that he earns his keep.
When I brought home our first two young chickens nine months ago – the sisters Henrietta and Ethel – I had no plans to get a rooster.
I didn’t want to deal with baby chicks hatching left and right, and I had nightmarish visions of cracking open an egg for breakfast to find a half-formed fetus inside.
24 Comments | Chickens, Neighbors, New Zealand, Podcasts | Tagged: Chickens, chook house, lavendar araucana, light sussex, rooster, Wairarapa Lifestyle Magazine | Permalink
Posted by Moon Over Martinborough
John from down the road walked in and set an unlabelled bottle of red wine on our kitchen counter. That was the first time I saw that wine.
It was two years ago, at a dinner party Rick and I were throwing for our neighbors.
“This is a special wine,” John said. “You can’t buy it anywhere.”
Something about the unlabeled bottle seemed vaguely illicit, as though a dodgy liquor store owner had started whispering to me about his secret stash.
I suppose I hadn’t seen a full, unlabeled bottle of wine since I was a boy, when we lived in Minnesota and my dad decided it would be a good idea to make ‘dandelion wine’ in the basement. It must have been horrible wine, since I only remember picking the dandelions for it once. I don’t think he ever repeated the experiment.
I eyed John and his unlabelled bottle suspiciously. “What kind of wine is it?”
“Good wine,” he said, and then told me the story of where it came from.
11 Comments | Country dinner parties, New Zealand, Wine & vineyards | Tagged: pinot noir, pruning vines, satisfying work, vineyard, Wine & vineyards | Permalink
Posted by Moon Over Martinborough
There is a river at the bottom of our property. To get there you step out the front door, then walk along the rosemary hedge, across the top paddock and into the olive grove, through the bottom paddock and a dense cluster of trees, then finally down to the water’s edge.
The river in summer
The miracle is that you can do all of this without ever leaving home.
I fell in love with the river during our first summer here. Everything about it was perfect. Time seemed to stand still there.
I had no idea that the river as I knew it would soon disappear.
That first summer Rick and I were trying to prune the olive grove ourselves, even though we had no clue what we were doing and had only the weekends to do it. The trees hadn’t been pruned for years, and I found myself spending long afternoons in the Wairarapa heat just cutting out the ‘suckers’ – the tender, unproductive branches that shoot up from the trunk.
At the end of those afternoons I’d wander down to the river, sweaty and hot. I’d throw off my shirt, boots, and socks and fall back into the cool, clear water.
13 Comments | New Zealand, River & sea | Tagged: acceptance, change, olive grove, River & sea | Permalink
Posted by Moon Over Martinborough
There are many ways to make your own olive oil. This is my own personal recipe. Feel free to modify it to make it work for you.
8 Comments | Guest posts & media, Neighbors, New Zealand, Olives & olive oil | Tagged: city friends, kind neighbors, olive harvest, olive oil | Permalink
Posted by Moon Over Martinborough
Aussie Bronwyn and I stood outside the chicken coop. In one hand she held a long pole with a round net on the end, and in the other hand she held a jar of Vaseline.
Lavendar araucana: Natasha and Francoise
She was limping a little from a recent knee surgery, and I felt bad asking her to walk across the top paddock to our chickens.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” she said, throwing back her shoulders. “Now, let’s get those chooks!” She smiled broadly, as though ready for a battle of epic proportions.
Little did I know what an epic battle it would eventually turn out to be.
21 Comments | Chickens, Neighbors, New Zealand | Tagged: blue-green eggs, Chickens, kind neighbors, lavendar araucana, light sussex, scaly leg mites | Permalink
Posted by Moon Over Martinborough
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