when the farmers come to town

on one of his first visits to our shores, capt cook left behind some sheep and a couple of rabbits and was 'quite surprised to see how well they'd done for themselves' when he returned.
it is possible to buy our 'local' produce almost anywhere in the world- i've seen enza apples in bangkok, dairylea cheese in a nicaraguan supermarket, and listened to tales of mythical snowy white sheep from a greek wool seller.
word gets around. and of course, word gets exagerated.
what better way to sort it out other than to put on a show.

the agricultural and pastural show

farmers come from far and wide to compete. their wares, the finest cattle, sheep and fowl the country has to offer. rare breeds, some of them, but all of them prized for their ability to perform.

c and i sat on the judges bench, taking a pause. there was a young boy sat there with a special stick that i saw the other farmers prodding their cows with. i asked him if he was competing.
-my dad's the one their with the blahdeblah (the name of the breed; he might as well have said something in mandarin, i'd be just as likely to understand)
he then described to me the things that the judges are looking for. he could quite equally have been describing what he might look for in a girlfriend... his cow (actually, it was a bull) came 6th.
i thought they were all pretty. but then, i am a vegetarian.

we moved on.

we went through the pens, where all the cows with calves, sheep, pigs and poultry were lazing about. munching hay. quite an aroma i tell you. we saw various breeds of chickens, stripey pigs (kunekunes) merino sheep (which were awfully dirty- not at all like the greek bloke described them) and goats. there was also a city farm, an area for the children to go and pat the baby animals.
our c was more interested in watching the girls and jumping off the bales of hay.

finally we went and watched some horses jumping over fences which calix thought was hilarious. then a tractor came to remove the fences before the prizes were awarded- this he thought was even more amusing.

out of our back yard

we note the change of seasons with the passing of one vege to another.

the red silverbeet wants to set seed, i cut it back daily, fighting nature with the gardener's sword. but as it finishes the broad beans begin: early on in the season you can eat the young broad bean like you might a french bean- sliced, steamed...
my first lot of rocket is rapidly starting to flower. i let it; i want to collect its seed. likewise the coriander. we've already munched our first lot of lettuce that were nursed through the winter under a cloche.
the potatoes and yams pop their heads up, the tomatoes and courgettes have started flowering, and the shallots are setting their flower buds too. the carrots are fattening as are the apples on monty's surprise. the branches of both the olive and the feijoa are filled with flowers, anticipation is high. and, we're still picking lemons (we've been rationing ourselves a bit there- p has plans to make another batch of confit de citron again that will hopefully see us through till next season).

the chickens vary in productivity. cher, of course, gives an egg every day. the silkies, ever broody, spend hours on the nest, but like their silver sisters, are lucky to produce an egg every second day. which is a shame, as we were doing a roaring trade with those precious blue eggs...

we inspected the strawberries again tonight- oh la la. it's going to be a fight with the birds for those! and the raspberries!

i'm still sewing seeds- sorrel, thyme and spaghetti squash more recently, and waiting on others... i surf the internet, obsessed now with seed buying. trying to find rare and heritage seeds that have higher nutrient yield per plant... purple podded red peas, purple moari potatoes, italian broccoli, red and welsh onions, chinese bokchoi...

and i can't turn down any plants either! i came home last week to a bag of sprouted potatoes in a bag on my doorstep- a gift from a neighbour... a chap across the road pops his head over the gate- fancy any cherry tomatoes?, and despite already having 14 plants in 2 different varieties i say yes. and yes to mizuna seedlings, and yes to asparagus seeds, and yes to cabbage seedlings (i can make saukraut!) i've planted my spare courgette and i'm eyeing up a spot for my spare pumpkin too.

not to mention the front lawn!
long has been the debate of vege production on the front lawn. i'm quite keen on digging the lot up and putting in a cereal crop- like quinoa... p reckons it's madness. we've already planted a feijoa and a cherry tree there; i snuck in some cabbages, and it turns out the only place to put the gifted potatoes will be on the front lawn as well... and what about those asparagus p is so keen on?!

it's all very exciting. there is nothing sharing a meal in the garden, in the last of the day's sun, that came from the garden. we look over each other's shoulders at the meals to come.

these are the joys of spring in the republic.
xx
mama b

the perfect bath

the perfect bath comes after a long day, in the sun, playing sport with your friends. (ok, does drinking cider while playing pétanque qualify for this?)
the perfect bath usually has some things in it to alleviate sunburn, sore muscles, fatigue
for this alone i'd add 1/4 c baking soda, 1/4 c epsom salts, lavender and sandalwood oils, about 5 drops each...
then of course i'd add my 2 favourite men
and put the whole lot in my garden

who needs a bathroom?
xxx
mama b
(squeeky clean)

a revolution in the air

the night sky was heavy with the aroma of gunpowder, but there was no revolution to be had. at least not this night.
what a strange thing to be celebrating though- some spanish dude trying to blow up the british parliament. good on him, i say. not that i've actually got any political opinions, but why not express yourselves if it means that one hundred odd years later we have the right to ignite fireworks and dress the heavens in gold and silver.
the crowd goes oooh
and aaah
and calix, witnessing his first lot of pyrotechnics was asking two questions:
where's his buddy max?
and was there any more?
who knows what acts of terrorism we'll be celebrating in years to come
xx
mama b
(perhaps one part green, one part anarchist)

waiting for the train

c and his good friend aramaya.
obviously uptonogood.

xx
mama b

preserves

what was once a driveway full of poorly performing leeks has made its way towards an afternoon of pickling and now we have to wait, once again until the leeks are ready.
2 weeks, they say.
i've waited months already.
perhaps the tiny piece of soil beside the driveway was not the best position for my winter leeks, but we did try. we parked the car at inconvenient angles for months on end and still they didn't grow. i mounded them up, i observed them. but those lazy-arsed leeks just wouldn't move. i'd almost given up hope when one of my edible garden buddies told me -if you don't pay attention they might bolt!
bolt indeed. these leeks would be the only creatures in the world who didn't fatten through not moving. bolt? bolt! i'd be lucky!
but bolt they did. in their waif-ish way those skinny leeks lept skyward all of a sudden and so i was obliged to pull them out all at once. and being as it's not soup season i had to come up with a cunning plan b.
my pickling and preserving book had a recipe within for leek and cashew pickle.
i assembled the ingredients
i busied myself sterilising jars, chopping leeks and other technical stuff.
i pretty much did everything but read the recipe from beginning to end.

what is it about us humans that we think we can get away with this sort of behaviour?
we have a go at it before we read the instructions and invariably have to refer to them halfway, with some sort of mystery part in the left hand and the screwdriver nowhere to be seen. or in this case, realising that the leeks needed blanching minutes before i was about to put them into the jar.

well, problem is now i've done it. the lids are on and the book says i've gotta wait! 2 weeks. all sorts of things could happen in 2 weeks.

-so just how do you eat these pickles? asks p
-with cheese?
he snorts; he is insulted with this reply.
to his approval the book suggests coupling with pork or beef of some description... great.

i reckon it'll go great with some wine ;)
xxx
mama b

mon château fort et mon bac à sable

coocoo! regarde moi! j'ai une boite spéciale que mon grandad m'a guardée et papa a decoupé ce trou... maintenant c'est un chateau fort!

mama, un verre s'il te plait pour célébrer!!

a+
c