We’re half way through our first Wairarapa winter and I still have a lot to learn about life in the country. However, this much I know is true;
Sheep are hard to catch.
Removing a rose bush from a sheep’s neck is almost impossible unless you are a real farmer.
I need to make friends with a real farmer urgently.
The chickens will be OK if you skip a feeding in adverse weather conditions, although there will be some associated guilt.
Low mist is a magical thing. It’s also bittersweet and geographically disorientating.
Driving into a fog bank is like jumping into a vat of candy-floss, but a lot less fun than that sounds.
Lighting a decent fire is a skill I am yet to master. Chucking on a pile of stuff together in a slapdash fashion and lighting it will inevitably lead to a black smoldering log and maybe a little smoke.
I’m really happy my man can rescue my rubbish fires. He’s a keeper.
The house log pile will always run out when then man of the house is out. This is even more likely to happen if it’s cold and rainy.
Kids can be paid to fetch logs in from the garage, unless it’s cold and rainy.
It’s OK to burn though a box of supermarket kindling if no one can be bribed to go fetch logs from the garage. Excess kid art work can also be converted into some cheery flames.
If you are a little reckless with power usage, the electricity bill may require you to take a stiff drink before opening.
When the kids run down the hall in the night (as they do) then it might give the illusion that the house is haunted.
Failure to mow the lawn for several months can lead to the most amazing carpet of winter daffodils.
There will always be cows on the road when you are running late for the train.
When the storms come, the rains come, and the roads start closing, then there is a certain peace of mind to be found in the fact there is always a plentiful supply of really good wine within walking distance.
This garden is the stuff that dreams are made off. Even on the bleakest winter day.