At the start of this month, I attended a meeting at the Amberley Library about setting up a Time Bank for our area.
The presenter had been involved in The Lyttelton Time Bank and missed the sense of community since she'd moved to Amberley and wanted to start one up out here.
The concept is simple but exciting. With the Time Bank, you are trading time - literally. I do an hour's baby-sitting for you, you spend an hour weeding that person's garden, they spend an hour stacking firewood for someone else and somewhere in there, someone will come and spend an hour doing something for me. The Time Bank is set up so that the hours are recorded somewhere - so that there is a way of knowing who has spent hours and who has earned them. It also is a valuable place for learning who and what is available locally.
In that first meeting, as an exercise we had a mock Time Bank exchange. We wrote down 5 skills we have - what we could offer and went around others at the meeting seeing what they offered and where we could do trades. In exchange for baby-sitting, preserving fruit and tarot readings, I was getting Freeview set up, Reiki, a singing lesson and the dog walked - although I got the feeling from her that I'd be doing her a favour by having her walk the dog.
A community's greatest asset is it's people and the different skills they have. Many of those skills are underestimated in their importance and undervalued for their true worth. There was an elderly chap at that meeting. He was interested in the concept, but could only see physical labour type scenarios, but as it turned out, his depth of knowledge with plants and gardening is extensive so he could spend an hour teaching others how to propagate plants - just as one example. How many jobs are there that just take time? If I had a few more hours
in the day, I could get so much more achieved and here is the way to do
it.
We also get a bit hung up on returning favours, on giving back to someone who has been generous to us, paying them back. My neighbour has been tremendous, I am so immensely grateful to him for his time, experience and willingness to come and help me with things that I don't fully understand, or have the facilities for (like cattle yards). I've said to him, repeatedly, if there is anything at all that I can help you with, don't be shy, sing out. He (and his wonderful wife) just laugh at me and I haven't had any kind of request for help with anything yet.
The Time Bank is a way for me to pay that favour forward. So I put my name down for being involved in setting ours up. Our first meeting was this morning. Mostly this was the initial getting to know each other, who is willing to be a part of what aspect of the organisation and the first steps towards making it a legal entity.
It will take some time for Time Bank Hurunui to be fully functioning, but the ideas, experience and motivation of the people who were at the meeting was inspiring. I'm glad that I did put my name down and attend this meeting.
For more information on Time Banks, or to see if there is one operating near you, check out Timebank Aotearoa. From there are links to various groups, explanations of how it all works as well as many resources that are useful for any groups of this sort.
Wednesday, 20 February 2013
Tuesday, 19 February 2013
The Gorse Project
Jokingly, I said to a group of friends “Since we
seem to be farming gorse, we need to find a way to make a profit from it.”
One then told us about a gorse mill they’d seen on a
trip to the UK. Gorse is apparently very
nutritious for many animals, the problem is in the hard prickles. Grinding it up makes it more edible for
horses and cattle. This reminded me of a
conversation held with the breeder we’d gotten our Dexter girls from. Hubby mentioned that we had a lot of gorse,
and the breeder said “Don’t waste a resource.
It’s a nitrogen fixer and the cattle love it.” He pointed out a gorse bush growing up beside
the fence that looked as though it had been trimmed about 6 inches from the
fence - his dexters had done it, that was as far as they could reach through
the fence.
We very quickly found out that they’ll eat the young
soft shoots happily enough, but the harder older growth only when there was
nothing else to eat (like many other “great gorse clearing animals”). And as we usually were cutting honeysuckle
with the gorse, seeing my girls sift through the gorse to pull out the
honeysuckle (they’re anyones for an armload of honeysuckle), gorse as it is
wasn’t practical.
Gorse is Moby Dick to Hubby’s Captain Ahab. He is so passionate about getting rid of it,
it’s become almost an unhealthy obsession.
One morning he left for work, only to be back home about 20 mins later,
vomitting and tucked back into bed. He woke
from about an hours nap telling me that he now felt fine and was going to go
out to the back paddock with the scrub-cutter and clear some gorse. Uh huh. He came with me as I fed our pig,
gang of unruly chooks and two young weaner calves. He then needed another hour
long nap.
So mention of milling the gorse and using it as
fodder caught my imagination. A little
bit of google fu showed me that no one is really doing it, but it has been
discussed a time or two.
Perhaps that should be that no one is doing it in
New Zealand. This webpage shows that it
is grown in the UK deliberately (the page author talks about how difficult it
is to propagate!!) and talks about coppicing it and hanging it for his horses
who love it and will carefully peel it and eat it. This is almost unbelievable to us, here in
New Zealand where Gorse is a noxious weed and there are penalties for not
keeping your gorse under control.
Arguments rage over the best way to remove, dispose of it and then keep
regrowth manageable. Contractors make a decent living out of clearing gorse.
I have absolutely no chance of spending the money to
buy a mill to try it out (I’m struggling to buy the food for the animals at
times which is why the gorse fodder seemed like a plan) so I put the idea out there
to my engineer/farm-raised Dad and my engineer/gorse-hating Hubby. Hiring a wood-chipper for a day was one
suggestion, as was trialling it by putting it through the old food processor
and then a mouli. Labour intensive but
workable for a trial.
I filled a fish crate with youngish stems of gorse
and put them through the food processor.
What came out smelled quite edible even to me. It took a very long time to have only a small
amount though. The girls loved it. The first day they seemed more interested in
playing with the crate, but the second day I gave them some, they were shoving
each other out of the way to get to it.
We’ve talked about using a wood chipper to process
it. We don’t have one, and they’re
fairly expensive to buy. We’d need a petrol
powered one to process it as we cut it.
I keep seeing the Tree Tech trucks around and wishing I could get one of
those. They have the big towable chipper
that fires the chips into the back of the covered truck in front. Might have to hire one first and test the
theory.
Monday, 18 February 2013
Late Summer Busy-ness
I know I’ve slipped a little with my blog. I made a commitment to myself when I started
it that I would write a minimum of one blog post each day. The holidays and houseguests put that a
little out of whack, but then we reached this time of year.
Normally, once I have kids off to school, animals fed and
washing out I sit down on my deck with a cup of coffee and my laptop and
write. Sometimes I have to spend half my
day doing what I’m writing about so that I can take photos of what I’m doing.
At this time of year though, the plums were ripe, the
blackberries are coming ripe, the elderberries are ripe, but the days are still
very hot. The best time for me to be out
foraging is first thing in the morning before it gets too hot - something I
learned the hard way, there’s nothing quite like a dose of heatstroke and sweat
running into your eyes (I had never before appreciated just how painful that
can be) to make you rethink how things are done.
So lately, I get back from the school bus run (it doesn’t come
to our gate sadly), feed the chooks and pigs, let the puppy out and we go
foraging until the heat drives us back to the house. Then I usually have several kg of fruit to
deal to before the sun comes around into my kitchen making it a hellish place
to work.
By the time I’ve finished with this, I’m usually quite exhausted
and still have a lot of jobs on my list to get through and somehow, sitting
down with my laptop just hasn’t been happening.
We’re starting to get dew in the mornings now though, so I’m not
particularly interested in being thigh deep in damp blackberry and long grass,
so any berries I’m picking today will happen tonight when it starts to get
cooler rather than this morning.
I’ve got a swede patch to do some work on, it’s half dug and as
the ground is a little damp, this is much easier at times like this than in the
middle of the day when it’s drying out.
The strawberries are spreading, with their runners going
everywhere, so if I’m going to move them (I have a cunning plan) that needs to
happen fairly soon. I’m moving the whole
plants, not breaking off the runners by the way - that shouldn’t happen for a
year I’m told.
The other thing about this time of year is the early
preparations we make for winter. There
are things that we need to be looking at now.
The herbs that die off over winter need to be picked and dried now - I
use comfrey and lemon balm in my eczema cream which comes into use more in
winter, so I need to make sure I have enough dried to be available for making
creams in winter.
Fire wood needs to be stored in the woodshed to keep it dry for
winter. As the mornings are getting to
be a bit damp, this needs to start now.
The chimney needs to be swept before we start using it, the mortar on
the bricks on the chimney need checking and tidying up before the roof is too
slippery to stand on. Gaps and draughts
taken care of. The holes in the driveway
need filling with gravel before they become messy mud puddles. The days are noticeably shortening, it’s dark
nearly an hour earlier than it was 6 weeks ago which makes the time we can
spend outside shorter too.
It’s a time when the vermin seem to be active too. Last year we lost 12 hens in the space of a
week to a ferret at about this time.
I’ve already trapped a hedgehog that was stealing my eggs and think I’ve
got at least one more to deal with. Time
to fill the bait stations with rat poison, although, with four cats and a
puppy, I’ve seen and heard little evidence of their presence. Well, except for the odd dead and half eaten
mouse on the lawn.
It all seems quite strange to be talking about winter
preparations when we’ve been having such stinking hot weather, but out here it
can change quite quickly. I know this is
the lifestyle I want and I’m thoroughly enjoying being flat out living it.
Friday, 15 February 2013
Flying Pigs
George, our boar, was escaping every night. Every night I was finding something to entice
him back into his run. This is more
difficult than it sounds. He cleaned out
the pig pellets and I haven’t had a chance to buy more, I’m out of apples and
most of the spuds we dug up I’ve now cooked up for the pigs. If he doesn’t really want to go somewhere,
it’s very difficult convincing him to.
I’ve rearranged the electric fencing, we’ve staked down the wire fence,
we even tried putting him into another paddock.
Each time, we’d look at each other and say something along the
lines of “that’ll fix him” which soon turned into “let’s hope this time it
works”. I became convinced that George
really could fly. Maybe there was some
basis to the saying “pigs might fly” that wasn’t entirely sarcastic.
I’ve known for quite a while that it was really more good
manners than good management that stopped my pigs from getting out. I’ve heard enough stories from sheep farmers
that border on forest about how (especially during lambing) the wild pigs just
walk through fences and destroy them.
But while I had friendly good mannered pigs, it was something I didn’t
have to be too concerned about. Besides,
the fencing all seems to be intact.
The girls stay put.
They’ll pace along the fence line ‘talking’ to me and asking for food,
or a scratch or just to say hello. But
George is different. I don’t know if
he’s tired of being kept with the girls, which I do know can’t be a long term
prospect anyway, or if this is just his way of pushing boundaries - literally.
I wouldn’t mind so much if he stuck to the lawn, he’s saved us
from quite a bit of mowing already, he loves the clover growing there, but our
George has found the vege garden. He
hasn’t dug up the roots to the newly sprouted silverbeet and spinach, but the
leaves are extremely sparse now.
Fortunately, (frantically touching wood), he hasn’t found the grey water
garden (where there are more goodies that pigs love) and doesn’t seem to have
much interest in the tomatoes, potatoes, beans or peas that are growing in the
garden he has raided.
It’s now been two weeks since his last escape. I’m cautiously ready to say we’ve got him
contained. Sadly, I need to find or make
somewhere else to put the pigs. As
they’re getting bigger (all three are over a year old now) they’ve eaten down
all the grass in their paddock and I don’t normally feed them much over summer
as there is usually plenty of grass.
The local restaurants and food shops all have people who collect
pig buckets, so that’s not going to work for me as a food source. The last person I spoke to, the owner of the local fruit
and vege shop, has his own pigs that he takes the spoiled food home for. My neighbours were doing a pig bucket for me
until their son got pigs. I don’t
begrudge them that at all.
I was speaking to a friend yesterday who has far too many apples
for them to eat on their own and asked for their windfalls and apples that are
no good. He turned up shortly after with a large bag for me.
I think I need to seriously look at growing a crop purely for
pig food. I bought swede seeds a while
ago, but have yet to remember to put them in anywhere. I’ll have to hunt it out and find out what
time of year I should be planting them, I’m fairly sure it’s not spring like
most of the veges I grow. While we like
swedes, we don’t eat a lot of them, so planting them as a crop could work.
With the added bonus of letting the pigs loose in that patch
when they’re ready - the pigs could dig them up themselves too. I remember as a small child, doing a working
bee with my Dad’s rugby team. We pulled
up a large paddock of turnips. The ones
that were too small, or whatever was left after we’d all finished was left in
that paddock and the pigs were going to be let loose in there. Turnips and swedes are fairly closely related
so it’s worth thinking about. Actually,
thinking about it, turning them loose in a swede patch might not be such a good
idea. I can just see them gorging
themselves in the first day or two and then having nothing left. Perhaps I should dig them up and choose how
much to give them.
It’s now nearly a month since I started writing this piece. Gorgeous George hasn’t escaped in all that
time. I’m still not going to say
anything about having it sorted because I’m sure I’ll jinx it.
I have started planning a better piggery though. One where I can separate them if and when I
need to. Watch this space.
Hot Dry Summer
The North Canterbury Summer is treating us to it’s full
glory. Well, not quite it’s full glory,
local wisdom tells me that it often doesn’t rain between November and May and
we’re still getting a little rain at least once a week.
Most of our days lately have been in the mid 30s temperature
wise and very humid. My paddocks are
turning brown and my animals are spending their days finding a shady spot to
lie down in attempts to escape the blistering heat. It’s funny driving down the road and seeing
the large trees in paddocks - their shadows are entirely filled with
sheep. It’s become a joke between Miss
Seven and myself, we look for the “sheep shadow”. I’m finding temperatures inside the house of
30 degrees Celsius at midnight difficult to deal with and making it hard to
sleep.
Our main water pipe lies on top of the ground for about 200
metres down the hill. It’s been on the
list to bury it so that it stops freezing in winter, but it’s a problem in
summer too. Passive solar heating means
that on days like we’ve been having, I can have a shower without adding any hot
water. It’s not so good when I want a
drink of cold water though.
This has created a few extra jobs though. I have to work to make sure that my garden is
adequately watered and I regularly have to check that my animals are getting
enough green grass. The brown stalky
stuff is okay (so I’m told) but it’s mostly fibre and not quality feed. I’ve added extra mulch around my fruit trees
in an attempt to retain moisture around their roots. But I think I’ve lost a few veges - quite a
few are bolting straight to seed.
One very real concern is the fire hazard. Because I don’t have a lot of livestock,
there are paddocks that are quite long.
Now they’re also rather brown and dry and a stray spark could cause them
to take off in what would be a horrendous fire for us. One of Hubby’s workmates had hay contractors
in recently. They’d almost finished when
a blade hit a rock, which caused a spark and all the hay they’d cut was
burnt. They lost the lot.
A neighbour told us that there’s going to be drought. I’m not sure if this has come from local
wisdom and experience or if there has been predictions by meteorologists. Either way, it means we have to keep a good
eye on a lot of things. The cattle get
moved regularly so that they don’t eat the grass down too far - enough to take
the tops off and allow the clover to grow up.
We may go back to the gorse project I started a while ago.
I took this photo after bringing the thermometer out of the sun. |
Last week, we were predicted to reach 40 deg Celsius. It was 10am and my thermometer on the deck
(in the shade) was already showing 35. I
found it noticeably cooler on the deck than I had been 20 mins earlier out in
the paddocks. Out of curiousity, I put
my outdoor thermometer in full sun. Just to see what they get to. At 10am, it got to 43 C, at 1pm however, it
maxed out the thermometer and was over 50 C.
It was a day for hiding somewhere in the shade. After I’d made sure the pigs had a good
wallow sorted and the water troughs were all working.
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