Still winter in Becks

I'm sitting inside near the sun

but actually within reach of the heat of a heater
reflecting on another successful Nat Com.

It's been a National Committee meeting weekend

and this time we brought the Young Farmer leadership

to Becks in Central Otago.

You remember Becks?

That's were Ben and Nessie live.

Yup the place with two pubs

and four Hore houses.

Nessie's is one of the Hore houses.

Ah makes me laugh every time.

Both pubs are called the

White Horse Hotel

not after the whiskey though but

because for a long time

the Upper Manuherikia Valley was known for 

the high number of white horses that lived there.

The pub above is the original pub and for a long time

it was just the stone building

then the wooden building was rolled across the road on logs.

When it was across the road it was the community hall.

I love knowing this stuff.

Anyway back to Nat Com.

Every year twice a year we bring together our Board

and our Regional Chairs and some vice chairs

together for a two day meeting.

There they discuss and decide a bunch of things for the organisation

like their opinion on any new branding,

timing of Grand Final and conference,

how to engage more with members,

can we really be bothered having an exchange programme.

While my job is to implement what is decided

it is the role of Nat Com to give me direction.

It's like having 20 bosses who are all care

and little responsibility.

This is what our really great bunch of Young Farmer leaders

look like in the freezing cold on the top of the Blackstone Hills

in Central Otago.

Ah the serenrity.

One of the great things about having Nat Com in a rural setting

was that everyone gets to go on a farm tour.

Ben and Nessie have a 10,000 acre high country station.

That means it's a livestock farm pretty dry, rocky, mountainous land.

Ever since Ben and Ness put in a centre pivot two years ago

they have had really good rainfall so

at the moment the Valley is quite green and grass is plentiful.

They have 10,000 merino sheep and a hundred or so cattle.

In the States this would make them ranchers.

In New Zealand they are farmers.

They grow wool for Icebreaker and meat for Silver Fern Farms.

They feed and clothe the world.

Big job that.

Speaking of big jobs,

we met perhaps New Zealand's busiest man

David MacLeod.

We invited him because of his position as a Fonterra Director

and he came an inspired all of us

with his down to earth, good natured, opportunity knocks

story of building from starting his own electrical business

to being a director on NZ largest company and

maybe the world's largest milk supplier.

He has a heap of roles along the way not in the least

Chair of the Taranaki Regional Council,

director of Parininihi ki Waitotara

and is a National Council member of Local Government NZ.

Not bad for a Maori boy from the 'Naki

(his words).

David made his journey from High School to Fonterra sound a bit like luck

but his underlying message was one of thinking strategically,

making the most of your opportunities and not waiting for them to come to you.

But most of all family first.

In a couple of days of really good speakers*,

he was the highlight.

After all the talking and watching the closing in weather,

we finished our meeting,

headed back to Nessie's houses,

got dressed up in our warmest gear,

jumped in utes and disappeared for a high country station farm tour.

This may surprise some but not others,

the young women (they are under 30) on our Nat Com team

are all hands on farmers.

Ness runs the Blackstone Hills Station with her husband Ben,

Keri dairy farms, running one of two farms with her husband Hamish,

Lisa is currently at Lincoln Uni studying Ag Sciences but was a shepherd,

Ruth is 2IC on a dairy farm near Dannevirke.

Dunno why it would surprise people but it does.

Above Ness is explaining the lay of the land,

with a bit of showcasing her working dogs in the yards,

and a good dose of micron and fibre talk with a hand from Scotty the stock agent.

After a day long meeting

(farmers find is exhausting sitting still and listening for hours)

and a rugged, bumpy but relaxed farm tour

we all headed to the shearing shed for a two tooth merino on a spit

(cause only townies like lamb)

and a slap up BBQ dinner,

with a few beers and cake,

as showcased by my lovely assistant Ruth.

(whats the Dairy for Life jacket doing in a shearing shed?!?!)

Visiting Ben and Nessie is one of my favourite things to do.

Like many high country farmers, they love to having people stay

and nothing is a problem as long as the animals come first.

They were wonderful hosts and I can't wait to visit again.

P.S. Even if I did get a speeding ticket on my way home.

*I'll post about Big Wig Day speakers tomorrow.

up a flipping mountain

I am constantly being told off

when I say I'm going

up to Central Otago.

Central is south of here,

south of most places really

but Central Otago is up in the mountains.

So I say UP.

Saturday was busy at Nessie and Ben's house.

Good busy though.

My idea of a good holiday is to be hummingly busy

with jobs that are all care and no responsibility

and that's what Nessie organised for me all day.

First there was lambies to move across the road to greener pastures.

So we wandered over to the paddocks with the 900 lambies

I wandered, Ben and Ness walked purposefully

with working dogs in tow.

Then Ben gave me instructions

which included puzzled looks from him when I asked

why I needed to stand in a meadow.

Once he explained there was a bridge (on the left)

and the 900 lambs would come down the little hill (on the right)

and my job was to make sure they don't stray/stampede on to the meadow.

900 lambs don't look like that many really.

But this is what happened to the few that didn't follow instructions

from the dogs,

who didn't follow the instructions from Ness.

They all got out

mostly with Nessie's help,

some exhausted.

Bugger lifting lambs out of the stream though.

That's super human.

My job was to bring over the ute

to drive the tired lambs over the way.

We took them across the road.

My job was to slow the 100 kms per hour vehicles down

so they could not plough into the sheep

and put every one's hard work to naught

(I include myself in the everyone there).

Across the road,

over the shaky bridge,

up the dirt road,

hang a left,

along the farm track,

that's Ben in the distance leading the way,

with Nessie whistling directing the dogs,

and me rolling along in the ute supa slow

with the tired lambies on the back

now standing up and looking much more perky

after their wool has dried out a little

and their snozzhes have emptied of the water they inhaled.

Then into the fresh, green grass

to get good and fat for the winter.

Ben's mum was telling me she reckons they'll have

six foot deep snow soon enough.

It's a big sky in Manuherikia Valley

lots of land to cover with six feet deep of snow.

This is all Ben and Nessie's land

and that's just the other side of the river.

This is their backyard with the shearing shed

aka emergency party palace.

It's surrounded with stone walls just like in Scotland

where the Hore's came from a hundred and fifty or so years ago.

The canny bastards were miners who got themselves a couple of grazing leases

and have turned that into thriving farms

across the South Island.

There's lots of Hores down here and up there.
Ben and Ness own up to the top of the range
and along even more.
The Hore's have worked hard for generations to build Blackstone Hill Station.

 After sheep shifting Ness and I spent the rest of the day
in the kitchen.
Only I was barefoot and neither of us, pregnant.

We celebrated Ness's 30th birthday
alongside Ben's brother Steve's 30th too.
The party was in an old stone cookhouse,
with a huge fireplace,
a merino lamb on a spit and
lots of family and friends.

I had a good time talking with Bevan,
catching up with his romance (going well)
and his business (winding up-ish).
Ben and I discussed the isolating damage facebook
does to our young rural people.
And why I'm not married,
That was a long discussion.

I had a great weekend.
Enough rest, enough work, enough friends.
Perfect.

TBfree New Zealand

Off to Northburn Station I went on Friday.

A flight to Queenstown,

a rental car to Cromwell

and a U-turn back to Northburn Station

to speak at the

TBfree New Zealand Southern South Island meeting.

When I say speak I mean

30 minutes on Young Farmers.

After an excellent lunch and a fair bit of wine

the auidence was almost completely unresponsive,

but none fell asleep

so yay me.

( not me for drinking though, cause I don't).

My favourite high country farmer friend

Nessie was at the meeting.

Which (I forgot to explain TBFree) was about the plan

for the 2012-13 and even 2014 

to eradicate bovine TB.

They are doing a great job but

you gotta keep your foot on the throttle.

Apparently you do this by killing lots of possums.

Possums like to have noturnal chats with cattle

and infect the cattle with TB.

Can't eat TB infected cattle.

Delightful Nessie extended an invite to stay with her and her Ben

for the weekend at their Blackhills Station.

I am often surprised about how my life is turning out.

One of the things I find surprising is that I know

high country farmers and get to spend time on their runs.

Ten years ago I would never imagine that I'd sit

on the front verandah of a grand old station

listening to weaned lambs bleat for their mums

enjoying the last of the summer's heat.

After the TBfree meeting,

I followed Ness to Alexandra to buy groceries

before heading back to the farm.

It was hot, deliciously hot.

We headed down to the

Matakanui* Combined Rugby Club at Omakau.

Ben is the Club President but

Nessie holds a far more important role.

She holds the bar licence.

We watched the last 20 minutes of the rugby game

which Ben was dressed for but watched from the sidelines.

Apparently it doesn’t matter who won because it was pre-season

(The “Tak”*team lost) and everyone knows

it’s the camaraderie in the Club rooms afterwards that counts.

It’s been years since I’ve served behind a bar but

I found I got into the groove under Nessie’s accomplished guidance.

It also helped that 99.9% of the after-match function attendees

ordered “a big bottle of Speights”.

Even I can open a bottle and make change for eight bucks.

There were no small bottles of Speights by the way.

Everyone was tired so it wasn't a late night.

We were all sleepy heads and

got to sleep after a bit of a chat back home in the lounge.

A fun day, not my normal day, I liked it.

a week in Wanaka

Five days and four nights

of peaceful, picturesque, restful holiday

in Wanaka

at Louly's parents bach

though I'm sure they call it a crib.

Who says the South Island isn't culturally diverse??

Do you think pronouncing Bach as in the composer

rather than bach as in batch would make holiday homes sound posher?

It's like calling Mangere Bridge, Pont du Mongere.

Some people do that, eh Ni?

So Louly's little bach was the perfect place.

Comfortable, easy, relaxing.

Each morning the sun shone.

Each afternoon the sun shone.

Each evening the sun shone.

Y'know until it went down.

Each day I'd go walking,

find a posse on the edge of Lake Wanaka.

I'd wiggle down on the pebbly shore

between fallen trees

until I was out of any wind,

lie back and

watch the clouds scud across the sky

watch the shadows roam across the mountains

then watch leaves spiral down from the trees.

More than once I got a leaf in the face

and those suckers are falling with some velocity.

One afternoon I decided it was time to go see the next bay over.

I eased myself into the ute,

because moving with any great speed was out of the question,

and drove out towards Mt Aspiring.

I got to Glendu Bay

and was glad that I didn't over excited

as I had on my first day in Wanaka

looking at all the walks around the Lake,

and walked around to the bay.

I would still be there happily exhausted.

I do not do exercise at altitude.

I just love the ranges and mountains of Central Otago.

 I love the lakes and austere nature,

the plainness of it's beauty.

It's breathe deep confrontational style.

I wouldn't want to live in Wanaka,

for a bunch of reasons

but mostly that I would be afraid

I would become immune to it's beauty.

While I sat admiring the scenery,

locals would walk past

chatting on their cellphones as they walked their dogs.

Ordinary life was out of place.

I eavesdropped without any choice

on people who I assumed were tourists

based on their accents and foreign clothes

energetically marching along the paths,

talking in their loud voices about

women they knew,

these were older couples talking,

ok the men were talking

the women were silent,

which supports my argument that men are the more gossippier sex.

They nattered on about how the women were strange,

which I took to mean they were different to them

which I took to mean they didn't know these women well

cause otherwise they wouldn't be strange.

I ended my week feeling relaxed and good.

My weekend was less so

but that's tomorrows story.

whirlwind

as usual.

Had a great drive up with Louly all the way from Methven

up into the mountains of Central Otago to Roxburgh.

Where the heck is Roxburgh?

It's by Alexandra in the mountains where cherries and other stone fruit come from

although the cherries we bought were crap.

Why is it called Roxburgh but said Rocksborough.

Were it's Scots founders being stingy on the vowels when it came time to spell Roxburgh?

That's like the story of Mags birth certificate -

it was easier to spell Margaret than Margarita so that's what she got.

Louly and I were presenting our third of seven Clubs Insight training to the top tables of some of the Otago/Southland clubs.

The ones I meet were good guys doing their best to lead their clubs and doing pretty well.

Now when I wander the land talking to groups of Young Farmers

I actually know a few of them

which is nice cause that way I don't have to talk about farming,

not that I do cause although I know more than I realise it's still relative

and talking farming is an opinionated sportand who wants to make hideous gaffs about things like welding irrigators??

The fab Nessie

(I do have to say she has wonderful skin)

was there cause Roxburgh is only an hour from Becks.

After Louly and I wandered the streets of Roxburgh looking for a motel

and found one with fantastic double glazing but no eftpost

not that mattered cause they still took credit cards

with one of those old fashioned manual zipzap machines

(that makes them sound super fast and ultra modern)

we realised that we should have just gone and stayed with Ness in Becks

then I could have slept in that divine bed again

plus I could have worked on fixing a sweet bloke up a sweet girl I know but I didn't think that through as well as I could cause when I was making plans

I needed to be back in Leeston by 11.30am today.

That was completely mental cause it's a 6 hour and 20 minute drive

drive??? drive makes it sound like a pleasant wander through bucolic scenery

instead of a hell for leather race down the mountain sides to my home on the plains.

But once I found cellphone coverage I phoned and changed the time to 4pm

and they were late anyway!

They got lost, silly townie folk getting lost in the country.

So I find myself in bed at 8.30pm with a hotwater bottle and an extra blanket waiting for it to get dark enough to go to sleep

cause I'm a grown up and can go to bed when ever I want, damn it.

Remember what it was like when you were a kid and your mum would make you go to bed at 7.30pm and it was still light out and you could hear ALL the neighbourhood kids playing outside?

yeah well it's not like that in Leeston or Roxburgh cause there are no kids and lots of trucks, actually I don't know about Roxburgh cause the double glazing made a quiet town silent.

So at Arrowtown

which is like a Disneyland exhibit, very cute and quaint....
and quiet and hot and sunny and shady and a good place for a long evening sitting outside talking This woman came with the motel we stayed at along with the duck called Milly - actually I have no idea what the ducks name is or if it even has a name but I thought Milly suited it.

How kiwi is that lawn outside the motel!

Once we got settled, we took the strange lady into Arrowtown for a stroll and wandered along to visit the Chinese gold miners houses...

I couldn't believe that these guys lived in these shacks panning for gold after coming from the tropics to what would be bone freezing winters and they worked so hard!



It was cool wandering around the settlement and reading about the people who lived there.

Maybe Ah Gum needed to use some gum to hold his wee house together?

This is not a Chinese miners ghost...

This house won the Chinese gold miner's house idol competition..we liked the little wooden window on the left.

Then along the path to Pooh's house.. nah just joking there was no Chinese gold miner called Pooh.

Then back onto the main street of Arrowtown and along the leafy path to the motel for more Christmas lambie sammies

and a big sleep before we, read I cause I wake up early to make the most of the day, the others sleep for ever. I went to Boxing Day breakfast at a wee cafe with great art...

and a walk back to the motel to see if anyone was awake yet... they were.. takig photos of cute Arrowtown houses...



This is my favourite one, very simple and no garden, now that's the perfect holiday house!