It has been a busy easter weekend here at Astrolabe Farm. Arabella is home for the university mid-term break and Meg arrived home on Good Friday. We got straight into some chores – waterblasting, mowing, harvesting the quince and picking up walnuts. This was all in preparation for Saturday which was a full on day as Jane and Sophie were hosting a wine tasting at Astrolabe Farm for some American visitors off a cruise ship and Meg & Bella were scheduled to pick some of the Pinot Noir grapes.

It was beautiful weather so picking the Pinot Noir was not too difficult a task. We were picking what we call the “sandybank Pinot” which are grapes from a small section of the vineyard that grow on an old creek bed. The soil is very sandy so it doesn’t retain water as well as other parts of the vineyard. It was easy to see which grapes needed to be picked as the vines had started to yellow and defoliate. The Pinot is under nets as that part of the vineyard is very attractive to the birds who populate the hedges that border the property.

The first task is to lift the nets so that we can pick under them. This is quite difficult for some of the more diminutive members of the family! Simon came out to double check the fruit and confirm the rows that needed to be picked. We pick using snips and wearing gloves. You end up with pretty sticky hands by the end of the day. Although it looks a bit silly we often pick in cotton dresses and skirts as they are nice and cool to work in. We often add a flowery apron to hold our snips in too! We place small yellow bins out along the rows and when the row is finished Arabella drives the truck along and we empty the small bins into a larger one that then gets driven out to the winery.

We had almost finished when the visitors from the cruise ship came out to see what we were up to. They were very interested in the whole process and we even managed to get them to help out with some picking. When we had a pretty full bin Dad came to pick it up and we cycled back to the house for some refreshments.

On returning home Arabella was straight into the kitchen working on a spectacular easter cake. We will post a recipe later in the week but until then here is a preview!

There are heaps more pictures from the Pinot Noir picking on our Flickr account here – check them out, it will make us happy!  – Meg & Arabella.

Then I had to check my new baby goldfish. Yesterday my lovely pilates teacher Marcia gave me 16 little goldfish for my pond. I have always disliked our funny little concrete pond which had a concrete statue of two little boys in the centre. From their little out stretched hands was meant to come a fountain of water but the pump has died. We named the boys Douglas and Michael after Doulas Wright and Michael Parminter. Unfortunately I knocked Douglas’ head off when cleaning out the pond. However the fish I hope will help the pond and the boys have been retired and I have planted watercress on their plinth instead.

So in the midst of bucolic bliss Sophie’s call sent me into a flap as I can’t find the recipe. I will look again but in the meantime here is the Kasundi recipe. This is from “The Best of Annabel Langbein: Great Food for Busy Lives.” Page 16. (Simon made this using plums and a little less sugar).

225g green ginger, peeled
100g garlic loves, peeled
50g green chillies, sliced in half lengthwise, seeds removed
2 1/2 cups malt vinegar
1 cup canola or safflower oil
2 tbsp tumeric
5 tbsp ground cumin
3 tbsp chilli powder
5 tbsp mustard seeds, ground to a powder
2kg tomatoes, washed and chopped
2 1/4 cups sugar
about 3 tbsp salt

Puree the ginger, garlic and chillies with a little of the vinegar to make a paste. Heat the oil in a very big pot or preserving pan. Add all the ground spices and fry until they exude a fragrant aroma. Add the pureed paste, tomatoes, the rest of the vinegar, sugar and half of the salt (check near the end of cooking to see if more is required). Cook over a low heat, stirring occasionally, until the oil floats to the top (about half an hour). Bottle in sterilised jars while hot with a thin film of hot oil on the top of each jar (to prevent top from drying out) and cover with screwtop seal lids. Leave 2 weeks, keeps indefinitely. Makes about 2 litres.

A final note from Jane: we used old Durvillea bottles to bottle ours.

Firstly a word about the birthday. For me to have so many family and friends together and to have such a great night was overwhelming and fabulous. Also lots of silly dancing. To my girls (and Genevieve you get included here), my sister Nicki, Sophie, Aunt Maureen, Liz Morgan you are wonderful women who made it work and of course Vicky and Janet the ladies in the kitchen. Simon isn’t just a great winemaker he is also a good chap. We should celebrate more often.

So post events I have time work in the garden and Monday was a public holiday and I had a terrific day weeding and pottering in the vege garden. The tomatoes and broad beans are in flower, strawberries and raspberries are forming and weeds are flourishing. My main concern is to weed and mulch as we are away in November. In the flower garden the irises are glorious and roses beginning to bloom.

However roses are a constant challenge as I am determined not to spray. The roses look terrific at this time of year in the full flush of new leaves and blooms and then they succumb to disease. My current problem is scale.

On a suggestion from a friend I took the left over olive oil from the party and painted it on the stems with an old pastry brush. The results are fantastic. The scale has died and healthy systems have emerged. I am encouraged.

The young chickens are broody. I have lifted them each day but it is amazing how drugged they appear. They are completely passive and let me carry them about. I have checked out the chicken blogs and it would appear I need to get them off their warm, snug nesting box and lower their body temperature.

Tomorrow they we go into the more spartan isolation unit (aka dog run). However the other broody hen is Widow Twanky, our lady pheasant, who is living amonst the rhodenrodens and is currently sitting on 7 eggs. I shall leave her to fruitless task.

My latest project is to make seaweed soup for the garden. On Wednesday Simon and I headed down to Ward Beach and collected some Durvillea. Ward Beach is very beautiful and Durvillea flourishes there. I love stony South Island beaches. So we hauled some durvillea ashore, bundled it into the truck and headed home. I chopped it up into a half wine barrel and added some comfrey. Now it is steeping.

PART ONE HERE

Sunday 30th August – It is pouring with rain here and I have just been down to visit the chickens. Wet chickens look very dismal. They were hoping I would open the gate. So now they are huddled in the coop looking very disappointed with life.

After my saga with Hillary and Roger I was a little shattered and the flock was depleted to 2 remaining hens, Winnie and Dot. However Barb Sutton came to the rescue.

Now Barb is really a legend in her own time. Barb is proprietor of Birchmore Farm at Blind River and is the purveyor of a variety of farm produced goods at the local farmer’s market. After asking her where she bought her chickens from she turned up with 3 lovely ladies in cardboard boxes. Bess, black, beautiful and the leader of the pack. She was named after the black haired daughter in the poem “The Highwayman”. May, (Mayflower) the barred Plymouth Rock and Hettie, small, red and by far the smartest of all the hens. However as the mother of 3 redheads I firmly believe that this is not a coincidence.

So the girls established themselves and I decided that there was room for more. Egg megalomania. I wanted more. Also for some extraordinary reason I love chickens. So I bought 2 baby wyandottes, Mihipeka and Fran, and a very beautiful little black silkie. Now silkie’s have a ridiculous topnot that looks very much like a Russian ladies fur hat, think Dr Zhivago. I was tempted to call her Anna from Anna Karenina but Antionette she became. She was very sweet but definitely the odd one out. I was concerned about how she would fit in with the others who are all large bodied hens. Hens are not into individuality. Obviously this concerned her too as she drowned herself in the pond. I suspect she dipped her head in and the weight of the water in that fabulous topknot was her undoing. I was devastated and feeling that the trials of chicken keeping were just too much much. However the needs of the survivors meant I had to keep going.

I kept Fran and Mihipeka separate for 2 months and integrated them slowly with the others. Carefully lifting them as they roosted into the hen house. The pecking order establishment thing is an unpleasant process.

Daily I let the hens out to free range and one day I came home to find May ripped to bits in the olive grove. She had been killed by a dog and while I don’t have an eye witness account I suspect “Basil” a Jack Russell who sometimes roams to our vineyard. I am not fond of dogs especially small chicken killing dogs.

So now I am down to my fabulous five. Egg production is up. They spend more time penned to protect them but it is roomy. I plan to add some girls soon.

Sunday 6th September: I began this post a week ago and the weather this weekend was fantastic. I have spent the weekend in the garden. Today I picked 2 spears of asparagus the perfect accompaniment to a poached egg. Winter has passed, spring is here and life is good down on the farm.

- Jane.

So home and one of my first jobs was to check on the chickens. They are starting to lay again and  my two young ones for the first time. Now, I currently have 5 chickens. Three are Wyandottes, one red, one black. Beautiful but not the best layers.

Cautionary tale No1: if you want a reliable supply get Brown Shavers.

My chicken keeping began in an impetuous way. I was at dinner with friends when one, Lorraine, asked if anyone wanted a rooster. She had one that was being picked on and was in emergency housing until a new home could be found. I said I would have him. So Roger arrived to live in the dog run.

I loved Roger. He was beautiful and benign. At least I thought so.

Cautionary Tale No2: don’t judge a rooster by his tail feathers.

Roger in the olive grove

Next, Pete, an old chap at the gym, offered me some girlfriends for Roger and so I inherited 3 beautiful but aging golden laced wyandottes, Winnie, Dot and Hillary. Unfortunately Roger just couldn’t cope and began to attack Hillary. He become, I am sorry to relate, a sexual maniac. He attacked Hillary so badly she was almost dead. The chicken house looked like a scene from a horror movie . So it was obvious that poor old Hiliary needed to be put out of her misery. So I took the axe shaking, but just as I raised the axe, telling myself I had to do it, my sister grabbed the axe and did it for me. You see I had just had my hip replaced and in those early days there is a chance that you could dislocate with bending. I don’t think swinging an axe is recommended.

Winnie, Dot and Hillary

Cautionary tale No 3: It’s not all eggs, and fluffy chicks keeping chickens. You need someone who will dispatch the chickens (ie. a chicken executioner).

So now Roger was back in the dog kennel in isolation and despite my best efforts at rehabilitation he continued unrepentant to attack the remaining girls. So with the help of Sophie a contract was placed on his head and a young man from another winery did the deed.

Cautionary tale No4: stay on the right side of Sophie

That’s all for part one, sorry it’s been a bit grim! I’ll be back soon with part two and more tales of life, death, and free-ranging.

- Jane.