Spring has well and truly arrived on the farm and in the valley. The weather is wild, hot, and angry. A post-COVID move is underway from Wellington to Wairarapa, with reports of a minor Invasion of the Geeks underway. Life on the farm is busy. So grab a drink, and let’s catch up.
The heat is finally starting to arrive, with two days in the last week bouncing off 30 degrees in the late afternoon and the ceiling fans working overtime through the evening. The grass is bolting away as the ground temperature rises, and almost daily thunderstorms and downpours arrive around 3 pm. Because the ground has been so dry, it will suck up 40mm of rainfall in an hour before the sun comes out again and the humidity goes through the ceiling.
All of this is also good for growing Buttercup, a bastard of a weed. City folk see paddocks of yellow flowers, and farmers see the same, and their blood pressure rises. Not only does it choke grass from the paddock it also isn’t great for stock if they eat it, which often they just won’t.
There is no natural remedy to this stuff, and it has to be sprayed. It’ll need to be nuked. It’s particularly bad this year because it comes back with a vengeance after a) a warmer-than-usual wet winter, b) loves soils rich in clay, and c) spreads around with flooding.
Where we are seems to be a thunderstorm breeding ground. Often we get a supercell building over us from around midday before it cracks open with deafening thunder, setting all the lightning alerts off on our phones. From there, it takes aim down the valley and wanders off to give Martinborough a good seeing to panicking tourists and soaking the vineyards.
Given it is spring, the housing market here is seeing some “post-COVID” interest. My inside expert on the market Mr B, tells me that he’s seeing interest from “digital nomads” looking to escape the Big Grey (Wellington) and move to the valley. My Barber, source of all information and all round good bloke, tells me that “a lot more geeks are moving to Wairarapa.” A minor Invasion of the Geeks, then.
We also know that the Big Grey has had a net loss of people recently, as does that so-called city up north. And we know that the valley is growing much faster than was expected. My Hunter S Thompson sense kicks in, and I am reminded of what happened in Colorado at Aspen and Woody Creek in his days when the city folk started to invade the two towns.
Hunter was so incensed by the fact that many “greed heads” were moving into the valley that he ran for Sheriff and came very close to winning. His policy was to rip up the main streets of Aspen with jackhammers and rename the town “Fat City.” He came extremely close to winning, obviously touching a raw nerve in the local population.
Hunter wanted to rename Aspen “Fat City” because “This would prevent greedheads, land-rapers and other human jackals from capitalizing on the name 'Aspen' ... These swine should be fucked, broken, and driven across the land."
Here’s Hunter having an actual gunfight with his neighbour.
Hunter was extreme and prone to seizing an issue and simply being unable to let it go. He engaged in a long war with one of his neighbours, Floyd Watkins, back in the 90s’
“Hunter and I have had our run-ins,” said Floyd Watkins, a neighbor who keeps Bengal tigers on his Woody Creek ranch. He recalled catching Thompson early one morning last year firing a gun into Watkins’ ranch. Thompson claimed that he was defending himself against an attacking porcupine.
In reality, Floyd had turned up with a large amount of cash and had altered the course of a river, an alleged environmental crime. And who on earth needs Bengal tigers FFS? Hunter arrived at the edge of Floyd’s ranch at 2 am with a heavy machine gun and fired two hundred rounds over his house.
I’m not suggesting that Wairarapa is in danger of being overrun by Geeks or greed heads because it’s hard work out here, and while the rewards are high, you must sweat to make it happen and be resilient. And you have to be very, very patient while rewiring your brain.
I was talking to a young couple at the pub this week; they’d bought a piece of land over a year ago intending to build. A year later, the concrete base was due to be poured. You need to be patient, indeed.
One thing is certain: Wairarapa will never be Wellington’s novelty nor the government’s toy.
Another thing is for certain, we’ll never be Wellington’s carbon sink either, which seems to be yet another pressure the valley will face in the near future.
large concerns remained about Wairarapa being used as a “carbon sink” to offset emissions created by other districts in the region. - CDC raises unease over ‘carbon sink’
Patience is running short regarding proposed emissions trading schemes, and huge tracts of highly productive land are increasingly sold and planted in trees so that the Swiss can keep running the airlines and sending us their oat milk across the globe without feeling guilty.
I’m sorry, but bugger me. It’s disgraceful. If you want to do something about emissions, stop making them, and don’t buy your way to a guilt-free future by ruining farming. As I have said before, on paper, we are beyond a zero-carbon operation if you count our trees. But, under the proposal, the trees don’t get counted, so it’s just another tax on top of all the other taxes and regulations.
I’m moaning. I’ll say one last thing, the definition of farming these days is apparently; “The art of losing money while working 400 hours a month to feed people who think that you are trying to kill them.”
Back to the farm!
The grass is growing; the sheep had a shear the other day without incident. The sheep look so weird after a good clip. Old mate from Sheep Services Wairarapa rolled up with his rig and charged us a very good price. We have a mountain of wool that we have no idea what to do with, and the sheep are very happy.
Strider and Mahi are under dietary management, much to their dismay. Spring grass can badly affect horses due to its high sugar content and lack of protein. It’ll kill a horse because they can get laminitis, which renders them lame and then they need to be put down.
The grass is greener in the other paddock for these two, who stand, wistfully looking over the fence at the lush grass and then back to K to appeal. Not happening.
K has been working on the glamping site, edging closer to completion. I think that people perceive that building a glamping site is somehow an easy thing to do. I suspect it might be easier to renovate a house. Shit is complicated.
K has installed the power now courtesy of an electric generator, a monster bank of batteries that will eventually be charged by solar. It’s a magnificent beast of which I am most fond. K has lights, power to water, the camping fridge, and other assorted devices sorted.
This week she has been building a gate for the site; as I write, I hear the skill saw screaming in the garage and the impact driver hard at work. The gate looks great; everything is true, the hinges are black vintage, the stain is on, and Dave, our fencing friend, is ready to get posts in and help hang the monster. I told the boys at the pub, who were most impressed. It’s still a little unusual out here for a woman to not only build her gates but do head gasket replacements, as well as manage a farm. Kudos to my valkyrie for changing the world.
All the electronic tricky to publicise the glamping site is now ready. This is a job I am allowed to do, outside my farm role of “picking things up and putting them down again somewhere else.”
I also have to sort the cooking facilities out and meet K’s requirements. The new BBQ got a good road test last night, and I'm pleased to say it produced some great meat.
Greater Wellington Regional Council has released some new flood maps that show exactly why we live in an area called Taumata Island. That’s our house near the centre, with the paddocks stretching down to the bottom of the image. As you can see in a big one, the neighbours and we effectively end up on an island.
Also, the good news is that insurance premiums shouldn’t head too far north, given that the new maps show us surviving a big one. Of course, the bastards will try and increase the premiums anyway, of that, I am sure. But when they do, I can throw this map at them. It won’t help, but I’ll feel better.
Pro-tip for people looking to move out here. Get a LIM from the Council and an insurance quote on any potential property. Failure to do both may result in a sub-optimal result. We pay nearly $6,000 in insurance per annum. Makes my bum crinkle and my eyes water; it does.
As you can see, I screen-grabbed that during one of my many video calls where we try and figure out which wires go where in a data centre and then fight over who gets to look after them. Boring. I’d rather pick things up, put them down, and then celebrate with a BBQ and a Double Brown.
As always, thanks for reading and commenting. It means a lot to both of us. There are still a few weeks to Christmas and summer, but it feels like it’s rushing up quickly.
We’re hoping that we can start getting some of you through the glamping site in the next few weeks as crash test dummies. Stay tuned.
As always, you can support my writing by sharing this post using the button; Facebook seems to produce the best results. I’d appreciate it.
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I do love reading your thoughts and laughing at the common experiences.
We're not too far from you on the foothills of the Remutaka Hills and even use the same sheep shearer.
Can I add to the list of farming woes the never-ending supply chain problems? We have tractor, excavator and chainsaw all awaiting parts.... and staff shortages with mechanics etc