Light in the Night

2016-02-24 20.57.32Last night was the longest night of the year. It’s fitting that we all overslept this morning. Everyone left for work and school in the dark, and will come home in the dark. To add to the dark of this winter solstice, the day is overcast.

But all is not black and bleak.

Yesterday, we saw the first of this year’s lambs bouncing around in the neighbour’s paddock.

The young blackbirds and magpies are already singing and vying for territories.

The breeze is from the north today, soft and gentle.

And from here, the days will only get longer.

At the bottom of the well, there is only one way to go.

So we’ll enjoy the sun while it lasts, light the table with candles this evening, and look forward to our slow climb toward spring.

A happy solstice to you, whichever one you are enjoying today.

Mud Run

2016-06-19 13.24.31 smCould there be anything better calculated to appeal to kids than a mud run?

Today’s certainly brought them out, despite the drizzly 10-degree weather.

The question is, why?

It can’t be for the muck in your eyes, nose and ears. There were plenty of kids spitting mud throughout the course, and wiping it from their eyes with filthy hands.

It can’t be for the chance to get hypothermia. Even after a 5k run, at least a third of the kids hit the finish line shivering.

It can’t be for the smell. The reek of swamp at the finish line was enough to make me take my photos with a zoom lens, rather than get too close.

It must be for the fun of doing something they’re not ‘supposed’ to do—get so thoroughly filthy they need to be hosed off, even before a shower. Add the silly costumes most of them wore, the requirement that they enter in teams, and a chocolate bar at the end, and it’s a winning combination.

For my part, I was happy to stand on the sidelines today in my hat, scarf and gloves. Maybe a summertime mud run, ending at the beach—that I could go for.

Walking Wellington

2016-06-03 10.22.20I spent the weekend in Wellington at a convention, but I have to admit that the best part of the weekend was walking around the city.

I could never live in Wellington—I’m just not a city gal, and it would kill me—but I love to visit. Yes, I enjoy Te Papa, and the Carter Observatory, the World of Wearable Arts show, and all the other indoor attractions. But mostly I like going there to walk.

And I have to think I’m not the only one who enjoys walking in Wellington. The streets are full of people walking—to and from work, during lunch breaks, to shops, to the bus stop…

You can walk along the waterfront, or through the residential neighbourhoods with their many finial posts, through the parks or the botanic garden, or along bustling Cuba Street. You can even walk to the airport, if you’ve got time and inclination—the city is compact enough that nearly everything is within a reasonable walk.

Well, reasonable by my standards.

Of course, when Wellington’s weather turns, it’s not a place you want to walk. I’ve been drenched by wind whipped waves on the waterfront, even when it’s not raining. But on a good day walking Wellington is a delight.

This past weekend’s weather was crisp and clear, with almost no wind. Perfect. I did about 10 hours of walking from Friday to Sunday, and would have happily done twice that much, had my schedule allowed.

So, if you’re planning a trip to windy Wellington, be sure to pack your walking shoes.

Promise of Spring

2016-05-27 12.53.09Tomorrow’s forecast is rather wintery, but I’ve been fortified today. The preying mantises must know their time is short—that one of these storms is going to do them in for good—because over the past couple of days, they’ve been laying eggs all over the place.

There are new clusters on the fence posts, on the rosemary, and even on my office deck.

Though the adults will succumb to the weather, their eggs will rest snug all winter in their cosy egg capsules—a promise of the spring to come.

 

A Cat and His God

2016-05-22 20.32.46 smI’m so thrilled.

It has rained and rained and rained the past couple of days.

There is a puddle in the little slough out front.

It is cold and windy.

Sleet pings on the window.

The rain barrel is full.

The ground squishes when I walk.

Fire crackles in the log burner.

The cat purrs on the alter of his god.

The seasons are back in their rightful places (at least for now).

Too Late

Newly sprouted, out-of-season apple leaves.

Newly sprouted, out-of-season apple leaves.

The weather finally turned last night. After five days of hot, gale-force winds, after seven months of summer weather, we finally got a hard southerly storm. Three centimetres of rain, a bit of hail, and howling winds—a proper ‘winter’ storm.

But it’s too little too late. By yesterday afternoon, half a dozen shrubs around the property had simply given up in the heat and dry. The apple trees, having lost their leaves to drought six weeks ago, had already flushed again with the unusually warm weather. Those leaves will almost certainly be killed by frost, if not tonight, than another night soon. The trees will struggle to leaf out in the spring, because of their wasted effort now.

The lawn is little more than dirt in patches. If anything resprouts, it will be weeds, not grass. And the winter crops in the garden had already bolted from the heat.

I’m thankful for the rain. I’m pleased to have a full rainwater tank, and the early spring crops that are just now putting on growth will benefit from the water now.

But for the sake of the groundwater, I hope it keeps raining, because we need a lot more.

 

A Five-Alarm Waffle

2016-05-15 07.33.29We love waffles at our house, but I make them only occasionally. There are two reasons for this—I don’t get to eat breakfast with everyone else when I make waffles, as I’m stuck tending the iron, and waffles have a tendency to set off the smoke alarms.

A well-seasoned waffle iron is…frankly, disgusting. It’s covered in a perfect layer of burnt butter. Unfortunately, that butter smokes every time you use the iron.

Even if I turn the extractor fan on, the smoke alarms go off.

So I’ve learned I can only make waffles on days it will be warm enough to open all the windows at 6.30 am. A good breeze blowing through clears the smoke and prevents the alarms from going off.

That usually means waffles only in summer, but since it’s been unusually warm, I decided to make pumpkin spice waffles on Sunday.

The morning was warm, so I opened the windows and turned on the extractor fan.

But the air was so still, the smoke hung indoors.

My son wasn’t yet out of bed when the alarms went off…

Well, no one was late for breakfast, at least.

Here’s a double recipe, so you’ll have waffles left over for breakfasts all week.

2 cups all purpose flour

1 ½ cups whole wheat flour

4 tsp baking powder

1 tsp salt

2 tsp ground ginger

2 tsp ground cinnamon

½ tsp ground nutmeg

¼ tsp ground cloves

2 cups cooked, mashed pumpkin

4 large eggs, separated

1/3 cup packed brown sugar

2 ½ cups milk

200g butter, melted

Combine all the dry ingredients in a large bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk together the pumpkin, egg yolks, and brown sugar. Add the milk and whisk until the sugar dissolves. Gradually whisk in the butter.

Pour the liquid ingredients into the dry and mix just until all the flour is moistened.

In a medium bowl, whisk the egg whites until they hold soft peaks. Fold the egg whites into the batter.

This batter is thick, and you will need to spread it with a spatula to get it evenly spread in the waffle iron.

Try them with warm applesauce!

Small Smiley Things

Gale force winds and clouds of dust. Power out, and garden trashed. Outdoor furniture thrown this way and that…

It’s a day to focus on the small, smiley things.

A bit of rainbow on the wall.   2016-05-12 09.11.57 sm

 

2016-05-12 19.20.21 sm   A stack of West Coast rocks.

 

A hand carved spoon.  2016-05-12 19.21.35sm

2016-05-12 19.22.16 sm   A polished slice of fence post.

A handful of perfect pebbles.   2016-01-21 12.46.49 sm

Managing Water

2016-04-22 15.51.16 smMake hay while the sun shines, they say.

They could also say fix your roof while the sun shines.

The sun shone so much over the summer (and now well into autumn), that it would have been easy to forget the leaky roof and broken gutters. And we did manage to ignore them both all summer, but one of these days (hopefully very soon) it’s going to start raining again. It was time to get the work done.

I enjoy being on the roof. But roof work is never fun—wrestling sheets of corrugated iron roofing around in the wind, pulling rusty lead-topped nails, dealing with rotting roof beams, and doing it all on an angle four metres above the ground.

Still, it is good to have roof and gutters repaired. And after we prepared for rain, I weeded the artichokes.

2016-04-22 15.50.14 HDR smIt was a lesson in dry—the ground was dust, and the poor water-loving artichokes were suffering. So I turned the sprinkler on them, dealing with an extreme lack of water after preparing for an overabundance of it.

Some day I do hope it begins raining again. It would be good to know if the roof and gutters are properly fixed, and it would be nice if we didn’t have to water the garden all winter. Either way, we’ll be managing water—either too much or too little of it.

When it rains, it pours, as they say.

Touched by Frost

2016-04-14 08.42.53 smIt happened. The first frost hit the vegetable garden. Not hard, but enough to show. Most of the tender and unprotected plants were already done for the year, anyway—the tomatoes had largely succumbed to drought, the cucumbers had given up, the melons were done, the pumpkins were already harvested, and the basil had gone to seed. The summer squashes were only lightly touched—a few of the leaves browned, but most of the growing tips in good shape.

Of course, at this time of year, any day could be the last.

So we savour each day—enjoying the tastes of summer while they last.