Saturday, April 9, 2022

2022: Gerolstein the sights of March



 

It's been a decidedly action-filled time at Gerolstein this last month and a bit.  The normally reasonably peaceful parages of our home have been enlivened by all sorts jollities and ... so forth ...

The highlight of the month was Wendy's Significant Birthday on March 29. We don't do things like birthday presents, a nice bottle of Pegasus Bay Chardonnay and curl up with the cat is the usual. But I thought the 60th hurdle ought to have a bit of bling draped over it, so we doddled off to Christchurch for the first time in years, and visited Mr Holland ...  and Wendy's faithful Linda the Nissan was exchanged for brand new blue Boofie ..



And that hasn't been the only coming and going!  Our friends Robin and Geraldine Wilson, having given up their farm, they found themselves with certain farmish items which would not fit into their smart new home by the river.  The most important item was Mabel, officially 'Our Mabel', 21 year-old winner of five races and a much loved family pet. Mabel is now esconced in the Gerolsteinian forest paddock, becoming bosom buddies with 25-year-old Meril Franco and throughly at home.

Mabel wins

Mabel, however, came with a dowry! A smart red Fergie and all sorts of farmic accessories. Nigel and Bradley went down to pick them up on their megatrailer which promptly threw a wheel. They crawled home on three tires ...


Wheel-less in Gerolstein



Now, all this had a run on effect. Space had to be made in the barn for big red, which meant a rearrangement of vehicles and a triage of the dusty gear of years ...  

Grey tractor is out working!


I am the best, in our family, at chucking out stuff no longer needed in life. Perhaps because I'm 76 years old. These latest weeks I have been also cleaning out my cupboards and study and shelves ... clothes into which I no longer fit, trinkets from drawers and the past, books I shall never read again, crockery and kitchenware that sits in glass cupboards ...


The new, (comparatively) minimalist salon shelves

Anyway, the barn got a good going over and, the tin shed which houses the water pump, which had become a dumping ground. I found two feedsacks of used food cans ... NIGEL! That man cannot throw away ANYTHING ...  I have now christened it WENDY'S GARDENING SHED. So ... no more rubbish. Well, you can have one corner for wood chips for the 'bus fire ...



The garage is only half a garage. It is largely filled with firewood culled by Nigel and Brad from the mass of fallen and trimmed trees on the property, 



Brad, the champion digger/grab operator

So, I set to work on the remaining space ... broken buckets, unidentifiable chunks of machinery, second-hand nails, staples, wire ... BRADLEY!  Down the rubbish trench! No, DON'T scavenge in it!  Down the hole!  Oooh! Like father, like son!  Well, I got much of it done. Oh, yes, youse others, I'm not finished yet!  But I made enough space for  the pumpkin crop ...


There are more coming, so the rest of the bench is in for a razzia, soon!

But we have to fit this lot in first! 


Solee Stagbeetle, could I set up a market stall selling pine-slice tabletops?



However, the coming and goings at Gerolstein have not been limited to Mabel and Machinery. We have cats. We used to have Minnie, ChiQi and Sox. Then Lily arrived and took over the bach which used to be our visitor accomodation. She looks sad, but she freaks out if let outside ..


Then pretty Lollipop turned up on the doorstep. No. Sorry, Lolly. We'll give you food on the doorstep, but you can't come inside.


Lolly's revenge. She presented us with four kittens. Two survived. A boy and a girl. Herbert and Sherbertte. 



While I was in Australia, I have a feeling the young ones connubed. When I retuned, Sherbertte was suckling five tiny kittens. What we didn't know was that Lolly had produced a brood in the next paddock as well ... and what? Somebody's sister or cousin or aunt had produced another litter ...

Of course, we fed the quins 


and before long they were semi-outdoor kitties


But our kittyfood shopping bill (even without our darling departed Minnie) was up to $250 a week. And I still hadn't found a cuddle kitty. Never mind. I prefer outdoor kitties who visit ...

Something had to be done. And we lucked in big time. Our checkout lassie at Rangiora Countdown saw our vast kittyfood purchase, and we struck up a kittyconversation. And from that conversation we got in touch with the wonderful Karen of Kitty Kingdom ...  We have trapped 10 wild kitties which she will take to the vet for speying, caring and re-homing ...  





Lolly went too. But we decided that .. we want her back!  Safely unbabyfied (scheduled for today!) she can look after her five grandkitties ... we think four boys and one girl ... because, yes, we are keeping the quins as well. After they too have made a trip to Kitty Kingdom!

I know there's a mouse in this roof!


The farm and animals take up a great amount of Wendy's time (and ALL of my pension!) but there is still time for other ventures ...



The vegetable and flower gardens!  This month we bought two more 2-metre Planters as the veggie patches spread ... and we learned a wee bit more about nurturing them. Eating homegrown veg is such a joy.  First attempts with some varieties have been only mildly (un)successful -- cucumber (I had the first midget for lunch), beans, cauliflower -- but our cabbages and spinach and kale are triumphant! And goodness me, how many tomatoes have we had from one little plant!


Just the right amount!  Two underripeys a week!

While this has all been going on, I, of course, with my wobbly legs and useless arm, have continued with the inside 'jobs' ...

There, the highlight was the publication, by the very ritzy Carcanet of England, of brother John and my translations of the crazy Napoleonic poetry of Frenchman Petrus Borel.  

A loopy landmark book!




It's attracted an amazing amount of 21st century interest and acclaim, so let's see!  It was fun doing it, and the only time brother John and I have worked together on an entire volume.

Over in America, the second edition of my THE MUSICAL, A CONCISE HISTORY, updated with the help of Jamie Findlay, also hit the bookstalls ..


Beautifully produced by SUNY, who a few months earlier had put out my wholly new Gilbert and Sullivan book



Yes, I still write every day. Useful stuff, magazine articles, bloggery, amusing (to me) stuff ...   and I have new shoes which allow me to go outside and walk around the beauties of Gerolstein, and pat the old horses ...  

Oh, I withdrew from harness racing some years ago because of the corruption rife in the sport (they call it 'the industry' now, which may be the problem). Well, the corruption is still there, and we all know where it is, but the police are, for some reason, afraid to intervene. The cloak of darkness of the Inca affair, with its drug dealing and race fixing ... I mean, forcing a horse sniff fridge gas?   

But. Even when you know that it's not a fair game out there, you still want to play. And you want to say to the old girls in the back paddock (or their memory) ... it was worth it.  We have had fun. OK Ben Johnson or Marion Jones or Linford Christie beat us  ... but it was (expensive) fun. And sometimes (52 times actually) we did win!

I won't talk of the politics and court cases (most unsatisfactory) in the 'industry', or of the aftermath (or bottle of whisky) which persuaded me to suddenly come out of my denial period, and buy a granddaughter of my darling Duchess ... suffice it  that I did. Emily is now three years old and on the verge of being a racehorse


This week, we went up to Rangiora racecourse to watch her run in a trial. Memories of twenty years ago  when I was there every weekend ... with my horses and, yes, even driving ...  Now I am safely in the stands!


Looks like we may have some racing merriment over the winter!



Yes. Winter. The first log fires have warmed us this week ... that woodpile in the garage will start to shrink.  And I will be here. Normally, I would be headed for my winter palace in Australia. But the ridiculous measures imposed by various follow-the-fashion politicians meant that I spent eight months there last year. This year, Gerolstein's fires, kitties, company and cuisine seem all the more attractive!

Soon, farewell autumn ... let's see what winter brings ... 



Silly Flosshilde: you're a girl!

Staking our claim



Stop press: Lollipop home from the doctor. A bit stunned and woozy. Nothing that a few days in the crimson pavilion won't cure!






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