Cows in Raincoats

Warning! This entry could be too long for even our mothers to read. Either I’m remembering more than in past months or maybe we’re actually doing more than before, or more likely, I don’t have anything better to do.

Many of you have probably done your ’07 taxes so this heads-up is too late for this year, but for future filings, it may behoove you to know that if you are physically out of the country on April 15^th, you are eligible for an automatic 2 month extension to not only file, but to pay. This sounds like an extraordinarily big loophole for the IRS to leave open, but unless I didn’t read or understand enough of the fine print, it sounds like an annual spring trip to Canada or Mexico might be the way to go. This knowledge could be a boon to chronic procrastinators such as me but, of course, I probably wouldn’t get around to buying a ticket until fall. Anyway, for those who were out of the US on April 15^th , the deadline is June 17^th , which is tomorrow (though I probably won’t get this blog written and posted until next week…or maybe the week after).

The other night we heard this heavy breathing/moaning which Chris insisted was coming from under the house, so instead of just enjoying it, she sent her husband into the darkness with his AA flashlight. Turns out, the sound was actually coming from high up in a tree next to the house from something with two exceptionally reflective, orange eyes. When Chris described the sound to some locals, they all nodded knowingly and said, “mmmm, possum.” (Kiwi's say "mmmm" a lot.) We’ve heard the sound a few times now, but since it's always after dark, I haven’t been able to get a photo (except smashed ones on the road), so I’m including one of a hedgehog (pic), which, of course, looks nothing like a possum, but it’s one of the few wild mammals we ever see here. They are quite groovy looking animals, much like a cross between a porcupine and a rugby ball with feet.

Although there aren’t many wild mammals in NZ, there are an abundance of cows in our neighborhood. Every once in a while, a small fleet of 4-wheelers comes zooming down our road, closing all the driveway gates, followed closely by a running herd of cows (pic). I haven’t figured out where they’re going, or why. It does look extremely uncomfortable, as their udders are usually quite full and swinging wildly from side to side (imagine trying to run with a large water balloon hanging between your legs). I’m trying to figure out how capitalize by turning it into a local, more sedate version of the Running of the Bulls that would cater to the older set. The first few cows are usually running full tilt while the last ones have to be prodded to even move, so, depending on where one chose to jump into the herd, it could be done at either a jogging or a walking pace and would not appear to as dangerous as Spain's version.

On the subject of cows, I’m including a photo of cows in raincoats (pic). We haven’t figured out yet whether this was some non-waterproof breed of bovines or if the farmer just thought they would be easier to spot out in the pasture with the blue and orange drapery. The only other viable theory was that they were polo cows wearing their team jerseys, in which case, we must have passed by at half-time.

Homer folks probably know or remember Jan Schofield (now Eaton). She’s been living at the south end of the South Island for some years and has just moved to a beautiful, rural river valley about 1½ hours from us. We spent a couple days at her house in late May with her, a dog and 3 horses (pics). Unfortunately, when we were there, her husband Barry was back down south picking up some of the stuff which had been left behind, which, among other things is a very cool 2-place ultralight plane he’s been building over the past some years and is now airworthy. I’m looking forward to a flight. Jan’s still limping; recovering from a broken hip a few months ago, but still has the energy of four normal people.

We took a short hike up a river with Jan, past a lot of stoat traps (pic). Stoats (mustela erminea) are one of the members of the family mustalidae, (what else?), consisting of weasels, ferrets and ermine. These things are the number one bird predator in NZ…killing about 60% of the baby kiwis, which overall have about a 5% survival rate. If you’ve never seen a stoat, here’s a picture of one in its favored condition (pic).

The manager of Chris’s agency (along with her husband) moonlights as an olive farmer about 30 minutes from here (turn left just past the cows in raincoats). We’ve gone up there a couple times to help with the harvest (pics), the last time to finish off the last few trees, eat, drink and be merry with everyone else who had helped with the picking. They also have an oil press, so we dipped bread in olive oil that was just minutes out of the press…this is your gourmet stuff. The lower branches of the tree are picked by hand while the ones out of reach are picked by a contraption with several rotating fingers. All the olives go right on the ground which is covered by fine mesh netting so they can be gathered up easily. You can see the netting and electric finger picker in the photos.

If anyone reading this is under 56 (maximum age to immigrate) and wants to move to NZ and make a bundle, have I got a business idea for you! Let me preface this by making it clear that NZ does actually have a winter…not an especially harsh one, mind you…but frequently below freezing at nights and even some snow further south; I’d say temperatures are comparable to Northern California. But, for some reason, they haven’t caught on to energy efficiency in houses. Only the newest houses might have anything resembling central heat, and even most the newer are only insulated to bare-minimum national standards, which for framed houses are R2.0 in walls, R3.3 in roofs and R1.3 in floors. They don’t seem to have the hang of going beyond what the government tells them is OK. Most houses built before the late ‘70’s have nothing…they just try to overpower the cold with some strategically placed, small portable electric heaters or a wood stove. To my mind; the whole country is asleep at the wheel (in this department, anyway). Here are some business opportunities: 1) Retrofit older houses with insulation, windows/doors and weatherstripping…most are not insulated and have single pane windows; 2) Build new energy efficient houses; or 3) Consult with builders, architects or the government. If any of you actually do such a thing, I will expect some kind of finders fee or kickback.

My own time is filling up, whether its projects around the house such as building a firewood storage shed (pic), or with jobs for others. (The shed, as is pretty apparent from the photo, is built out of 100% scavenged materials.) This week, I’m starting on a set of kitchen cabinets for a neighbor who is converting a bus to a full-time-live-in motor home. All these things require a bit of ingenuity given my lack of tools, but I’m making do. Next is a set of 5 benches for a yurt at the agency where Chris works. If I’m lucky, the projects will at least pay for my new-used table saw and a couple carpenters pencils.

This kind of work isn’t exactly the kind of thing I was imagining would be filling my time in NZ, but is certainly the path of least resistance for me as it seems that people all over the world need people to do their handiwork. In the words of the immortal Red Green, “If the women don’t find you handsome, they should at least find you handy.”

We’re still taking side trips…mostly on weekends, and often with others. We just got back from an overnight stay at a cabin in nearby Kahurangi National Park with a group of friends, celebrating the Winter Solstice with food, improvised plays, songs, dances and yes, a few nips of local wine. We can be in either one of two national parks in about 20 minutes from our house.

This week, Chris is off to Hamilton on the North Island to help lead a training session for some others in the same line of psycho-work. She may have more to offer on this, later. She's also managed to squeeze in some Buddhist meditation, a felting workshop and now we're both in a world music choir.

Whew, that’s plenty, or maybe more than enough for now.