Drought, floods, blood, beer, wwoofers, and puppy dogs. The signs of the apocalypse.
This was our first summer on the farm. We planted trees and grew a garden. We fixed fences. We repaired leaks. We got chickens. Time passed, but it didn't rain at all.
We fixed up our sleepout with new insulation, wiring, plumbing, siding, and roof. We even added a wraparound deck. Gail's family came to visit for Christmas, and they dubbed the sleepout "the Cottage by the Cows."
We slaughtered turkeys. Blood everywhere. The horror.... the horror.....
I brewed more beer. Summer is a good time to brew, because it's warm enough for the yeasts. Planning ahead, I thought that 120 liters of beer would be enough for the whole year. There is a quote from a wine-making book we find quite appropriate: "It is very little more trouble to make five gallons than to make one (and it lasts nearly twice as long!)"
At the beginning of April, I gave a presentation at a science conference. I presented a small "dosimeter" which measures UV radiation and records a person's exposure. It was quite well received, considering I had just finished it the night before, and wasn't 100% sure it would work when I got up on the podium. On the way home after the conference, I struck up a conversation with a man in Dunedin, and happened to mention the presentation. He interrupted me, exploding with enthusiasm, "You're that guy! The one who makes the thing that measures your UV exposure! We just heard about it on National Radio! Oh boy, wait until I tell my wife that I met you!" Apparently, this little device struck a nerve with a few people.
Meanwhile, back on the farm, the summer came and went, and there was no rain at all. Crops failed. Lots of our trees died. This was very unusual for our area, and it affected everyone. Many local farmers sold off their cattle, because there wasn't enough grass. We were lucky to have a gully that stayed moist and green.
In the previous twelve months, we had gotten less than ten inches of rain. Then, in the middle of May, the skies opened up. In five days, we got fourteen inches! Roads closed because of flooding, and soon the bypass roads were closed as well. Our little gully turned into a raging river, complete with whitewater rapids and a five-foot waterfall. In one area, the runoff from our neighbor's cabbage farm burst through the fence, sending a cascade of broccoli across our property. We have since named that paddock, "Broccoli Falls."
Cleaning up took a while, but we've had help. We signed up for a program called "WWOOF", which stands for Willing Workers On Organic Farms. We host volunteers, usually young travelers, who stay with us for a week or two. They help out with the farm work, and in exchange, we give them room and board. It's a good situation for everyone, and we have had some great experiences.
Kayla and Tim got engaged! They are planning to get married on the beach next February. Gail and I could not be any happier for them. Tim is a fine choice, and they are so very happy together.
Yesterday was Levi's 19th half-birthday. (That's 9 1/2, if you can't figure out improper fractions.) We went for a drive, but didn't tell Levi that it was part of our evil plan to buy him a dog. We pulled into a farm driveway near Elephant Rocks, and parked next to a pen full of squirmy little puppies. It took Levi a few minutes to figure out what was happening, but then the light bulb over his head went on. He picked a beautiful little Huntaway, and now he can't wait to pick her up on Saturday. He spent all day today reading books about dog-training.
Gail and I recently enjoyed our tenth wedding anniversary with a 5-star lunch, followed by a movie, a B&B, and a trip to the hospital. (I'm okay; I just hit myself on the head with a car.)
Such is the stuff that memories are made of....
Sunday, June 27, 2010
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