the hot wind sears the plains as it makes its way to the sea. gusting at over 40km/h it bends trees in its wake.
today is not a good day for a fine hairdo
this morning, while i had other things to do, i was once again in the garden. i could see my beans dancing with the wind; soft ballet coreographed by nature's whimsy... me, i was wandering about, string poking out of my pockets like a true peasant, trying to secure everything to anything in the vain hope that i might save something.
and it's not just the beans that dance. in the wings the apples play their part, swaying somewhat violently with every new gust.
monty's surprise lost 7 apples.
to others, 7 is not necessarily a magic number. it's only significance is that on the scale of this year's harvest it was a part of the majority. and, as far as fables go, it was worth a week's accomodation for a doctor outside of the republic.
when you translate your apples into real terms, it's a whole new story, eh?!
but, busy is as busy was, we were. in the garden. after countless voyages to the beach to get sand i finally got to start laying the bricks that many hands cleaned last week.
inside the house it's painting season again; walls, ceiling, window, trousers and shirts given a fresh coat of paint in the old office in preparation for new guests.
and otherwise, other than the occasional bout of madness brought about by the wind, all is well in the republic.
xx
mama b
9.12.09
1.12.09
rainy days at the beach
it's raining. it's grey. we're indoors surfing the internet, not out watching waves.
but it's not all bad, the internet is like a giant library without smelly old men looking over your shoulder. and just now the research subject of choice is cheese-making.
i got a book of instructions on cheese making for my birthday a coupla months back and interest has been recently rekindled since we've managed to find a local source of raw milk.
(i say local, but it does come from a town almost 100km from here... but being as we're part of a network of 100 folk i guess it's 1km a piece, so it's not all that bad)
so, local(ish) raw organic milk. just as you remembered it from when you were a kid. when milk came in bottles and was delivered daily to your gate. what happened to that? full fat milk. is the world so fat obsessed that we had to abolish it entirely for the lack of adult-abled choice? or, as my dad suggested, it's just merely the milk companies getting fatter on the proceeds of milk by-products as they ride the trend for lo-fat and deliver lo-quality products.
lo-fat my arse.
so, local(ish) raw organic milk. that, sitting in the bottle, is actually coloured cream. where the cream sat on the top looks almost the colour of butter (admittedly, sick butter; or butter from non-grass-fed-cows..). that p describes, poetically, as unctuous. (you might have to queue your french accent to grasp the thickness of the description of the milk)
and when, mixed with the yoghurt culture, it makes something so devine, so fresh, so, so...
it is so good that i had it without honey.
nude yoghurt.
so, local(ish) raw organic milk. soon to be local(ish) raw oraganic cheese. being as we've just ordered ourselves a thermometer and stuff and, given the right evening with appropriate amounts of wine, and friends, and moon slinking over the horizon, and cultures (not just the yoghurty variety) we should be able to, according to research, go :
voilà! fromage! fabriqué dans la rara republic
xx
mama b
apprentice fromagère
(i'll post photos, but you might just have to come round for a cheese tasting workshop!)
but it's not all bad, the internet is like a giant library without smelly old men looking over your shoulder. and just now the research subject of choice is cheese-making.
i got a book of instructions on cheese making for my birthday a coupla months back and interest has been recently rekindled since we've managed to find a local source of raw milk.
(i say local, but it does come from a town almost 100km from here... but being as we're part of a network of 100 folk i guess it's 1km a piece, so it's not all that bad)
so, local(ish) raw organic milk. just as you remembered it from when you were a kid. when milk came in bottles and was delivered daily to your gate. what happened to that? full fat milk. is the world so fat obsessed that we had to abolish it entirely for the lack of adult-abled choice? or, as my dad suggested, it's just merely the milk companies getting fatter on the proceeds of milk by-products as they ride the trend for lo-fat and deliver lo-quality products.
lo-fat my arse.
so, local(ish) raw organic milk. that, sitting in the bottle, is actually coloured cream. where the cream sat on the top looks almost the colour of butter (admittedly, sick butter; or butter from non-grass-fed-cows..). that p describes, poetically, as unctuous. (you might have to queue your french accent to grasp the thickness of the description of the milk)
and when, mixed with the yoghurt culture, it makes something so devine, so fresh, so, so...
it is so good that i had it without honey.
nude yoghurt.
so, local(ish) raw organic milk. soon to be local(ish) raw oraganic cheese. being as we've just ordered ourselves a thermometer and stuff and, given the right evening with appropriate amounts of wine, and friends, and moon slinking over the horizon, and cultures (not just the yoghurty variety) we should be able to, according to research, go :
voilà! fromage! fabriqué dans la rara republic
xx
mama b
apprentice fromagère
(i'll post photos, but you might just have to come round for a cheese tasting workshop!)
30.11.09
men at work
of course, we'd have gotten much more done if the grown ups didn't do so much talking...
28.11.09
how does your garden grow...
what may look like a pile of rubble to others is in fact the beginnings of a paved area for the folk in the rara republic.
many moons ago a plan was sketched out on paper; eyes closed and imagination set sail as we dreamed the winter dream of summer dining, al fresco -grande banquets and little picnics. slowly slowly over the last months we've excavated soil, broken up old concrete paths and moved it into position, ready, to be the base for our bricked outdoor kitchen/dining/lounging/living area. 
winter became spring turned to summer and before you know it, november's end was in sight!
how can we celebrate mid-summer without somewhere to dance outside?
so beneath the hottest sun we worked like peasants, digging, smashing, sweating and cursing. we moved a tap from one side of the garden to the other. we raked concrete pieces and rubble and p hired a machine to compact it all. now we are ready for the next phase.
parked on our driveway for some time now is a rather large pile of old bricks. not any old bricks these, they're old dirty bricks. bits of old mortar cling to the side in memory of once was a fireplace or chimney in some other story. old dirty bricks are practically free.
mostly because they need cleaning...
i've had a go, i've probably cleaned about, say, 20. i can see why some people give them away. when it's only 20 you need to clean, it's ok. but 1200? yikes!
luckily we're part of a new community initiative- a timebank, where you work for others in exchange for them working for you elsewhere.
so tomorrow we'll be hosting a working bee.\
a working bee it seems is a particularly kiwi thing. it means inviting good friends and neighbours around to work for you in your home -cleaning bricks, or painting, or gardening, in exchange for love and scones and a cup of tea. and the promise of exchanged labour later on if ever you need it...
and in the second garden, the nurturing garden, all is well. the broad beans, taller than capt c and nearly taller than me, are producing beans faster than we can eat them now. the tomatoes, courgettes, peas, pumpkin, lemontree and potatoes are all beginning to flower. the strawberries ripen to the deepest red and the raspberries aren't far behind. the garlic, planted on the winter solstice, will be pulled on the summer solstice, along with onions and shallots. we have carrots a-plenty which is nice, as we were recently gifted a juicer. (now there is one appliance i've always dreamed of owning, and now i own one i really feel like i have arrived in the kingdom of appliance ownership). however, those little orange gems haven't yet made it to the kitchen as we eat them up straight from the soil (we wipe the soil off on our trousers first!)
we seem to have a happy balance of insectery- pests and predators abound. bees buzz, busy.
and today it is raining.
xx
peasant b
(having the morning off)
25.11.09
whilst ripening..
that one's mine!
as we watch them ripen, we pre-book our strawberries and then it becomes a race...
despite all the work to be done, being spring and all, being folk of many projects, we've still got time for coffee and a bit of contemplation in the gardenas we watch them ripen, we pre-book our strawberries and then it becomes a race...
15.11.09
gatherer/hunter
being vegetarian i became fascinated with the idea of gathering wild foods while i was a teenager.
the maori arrived with limited resources but were keen hunters, and the land produced an abundance of fish and birds- but humans cannot live by flesh alone.
they imported kumara, or sweet potato which they cultivated but their fruit and medicine had to be found in the bush. obviously this knowledge took generations to accumulate- without universities or google the knowledge was passed down through story-telling.
this knowing became part of my yearning. bushcraft and survival, selfsufficiency and living 'off the grid' became the basis of my studies.
in classrooms i studied horticulture via modern means; although i served the time honoured method of learning as an apprentice these teachings made me even thirstier.
i wondered -what about plants and peoples in other parts of the world? what about their relationships, their medicines...
i gave a lecture to fellow apprentices on 'native edible plants' and from that moment forward i would always be searching. can i eat that plant? what's its nutitional value? does it carry any medicinal qualities?
finding plants in their native habitat has always delighted me, although i've been satisfied many a time by plants in cultivation. p can tell you a nearly notsofunny story involving a steeperthanitlooks rock and someone who is slightly passionate about orchids and carniverous plants... (photographing it from below and using a digital zoom afterwards is not enough!)
i spent a coupla months living with this greek dude. a former bio-medical engineer and fervent vegan this guy taught me about wild foods. at the time i wasn't so enthusiastic. i was volunteering on his farm as a wwoofer (willing worker on organic farms) for my bed and food and after working for 7 hours i fancied something a little more substantial than a plate of weeds! but he managed to convert me to being vegan (which i continued with for a number of years- until i discovered french cheese, actually) and taught me a thing or two about foraging, about gleaning, and about finding medicine in the plants around me.
i took this knowledge with me.
a few years later, coupled with the rest of my botanical knowledge, it really came in handy.
while traversing the mongolian steppes i soon discovered that there was not a lot on offer for your average vegetarian. i ate snickers because the peanuts had protein, pascal introduced me to chocolate on toast, i could have bought shares in la vache qui rit cheese and ate approximately 250 individual serves of instant chinese noodles.
but one day sheltering under the heavy coat of our mongolian friend during a down-pour i noticed wild onions growing. i pointed them out, our mate shrugged. i noticed thyme growing, creeping across the rocks. not interested, at all. one morning i noticed a field full of mushrooms.
oh the delight!
- my mate told me that if you can peel them, you can eat 'em! i said, knowledgably
this sort of knowledge isn't always sage advice.
we didn't get ill, luckily. it turns out there is no rule for identifying mushrooms other than to know what you're doing. i read my girlfriend's blog the other day and was very interested when she mentioned doing spore prints. i feel the need to investigate further. (have a read of this: http://theroadislife.blogspot.com/2009/10/spore-prints-for-mushroom.html )
and this brings us to this stage in my 21st century tale. mushroom hunting on the internet. aquiring knowledge that would be much better learnt in the field.
i am confident identifying herbs, trees and other miscellanous weeds and taking them home to make meals, tissanes, compost tea, or food for the chooks. but those little champignons that grow on our lawn, in the forest down the road.... aiie.
i guess i need to learn a little more to become a confident hunter of fungi.
xx
mama b
the maori arrived with limited resources but were keen hunters, and the land produced an abundance of fish and birds- but humans cannot live by flesh alone.
they imported kumara, or sweet potato which they cultivated but their fruit and medicine had to be found in the bush. obviously this knowledge took generations to accumulate- without universities or google the knowledge was passed down through story-telling.
this knowing became part of my yearning. bushcraft and survival, selfsufficiency and living 'off the grid' became the basis of my studies.
in classrooms i studied horticulture via modern means; although i served the time honoured method of learning as an apprentice these teachings made me even thirstier.
i wondered -what about plants and peoples in other parts of the world? what about their relationships, their medicines...
i gave a lecture to fellow apprentices on 'native edible plants' and from that moment forward i would always be searching. can i eat that plant? what's its nutitional value? does it carry any medicinal qualities?
finding plants in their native habitat has always delighted me, although i've been satisfied many a time by plants in cultivation. p can tell you a nearly notsofunny story involving a steeperthanitlooks rock and someone who is slightly passionate about orchids and carniverous plants... (photographing it from below and using a digital zoom afterwards is not enough!)
i spent a coupla months living with this greek dude. a former bio-medical engineer and fervent vegan this guy taught me about wild foods. at the time i wasn't so enthusiastic. i was volunteering on his farm as a wwoofer (willing worker on organic farms) for my bed and food and after working for 7 hours i fancied something a little more substantial than a plate of weeds! but he managed to convert me to being vegan (which i continued with for a number of years- until i discovered french cheese, actually) and taught me a thing or two about foraging, about gleaning, and about finding medicine in the plants around me.
i took this knowledge with me.
a few years later, coupled with the rest of my botanical knowledge, it really came in handy.
while traversing the mongolian steppes i soon discovered that there was not a lot on offer for your average vegetarian. i ate snickers because the peanuts had protein, pascal introduced me to chocolate on toast, i could have bought shares in la vache qui rit cheese and ate approximately 250 individual serves of instant chinese noodles.
but one day sheltering under the heavy coat of our mongolian friend during a down-pour i noticed wild onions growing. i pointed them out, our mate shrugged. i noticed thyme growing, creeping across the rocks. not interested, at all. one morning i noticed a field full of mushrooms.
oh the delight!
- my mate told me that if you can peel them, you can eat 'em! i said, knowledgably
this sort of knowledge isn't always sage advice.
we didn't get ill, luckily. it turns out there is no rule for identifying mushrooms other than to know what you're doing. i read my girlfriend's blog the other day and was very interested when she mentioned doing spore prints. i feel the need to investigate further. (have a read of this: http://theroadislife.blogspot.com/2009/10/spore-prints-for-mushroom.html )
and this brings us to this stage in my 21st century tale. mushroom hunting on the internet. aquiring knowledge that would be much better learnt in the field.
i am confident identifying herbs, trees and other miscellanous weeds and taking them home to make meals, tissanes, compost tea, or food for the chooks. but those little champignons that grow on our lawn, in the forest down the road.... aiie.
i guess i need to learn a little more to become a confident hunter of fungi.
xx
mama b
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