A Young Me

 

This photo popped up on my slide show this morning.  It was me – some 50+ years ago! 

I was almost overcome with memories, as the photo had been taken by my boyfriend who was soon to be my husband.

I remembered the day like it was yesterday, with the sunshine, the kowhai tree flowering, the cows in the paddock, the oak tree bursting into leaf.  It was taken outside the old homestead that I was brought up in, and we had made a sentimental visit (for me) for the last time as the farm had been sold and my parents were moving into town.

I now have a grand-daughter who is older now than I was in that photo!

This next photo popped up a couple of days ago, taken around the same time period.  It is of a brother and myself boarding the railcar (I was so fashionable LOL, with my big handbag and mini hemlines!).

Don’t the years pass by quickly when you look back on them?  At the time, life just seemed to be going along one thing after another but when you look back it seems to have whizzed by so fast.

Take time to appreciate each and every day,

Margaret xx

 

Nine Years Ago

 

It is nine years ago today, to the day, since I last visited Zion National Park.  How I love that place (been there twice and would love to go again).  

I love the towering rocks and the whole vibe that the place has – when visiting before the crowds arrive, that is!  We were among the first visitors for the day, before we had even had breakfast.

The Virgin River is so pretty, although it can also be lethal when it floods.  On this day it was in a placid mood and hubby and I enjoyed a short paddle in its clear waters.

We used to try and paddle in as many different waterways as we could, taking a photo each time to prove that we had been there, done that.

On this particular day, we travelled from Zion across to Bryce National Park before camping at Kodachrome Basin for the night.

I find Bryce Canyon a fascinating place, with its various hoodoos and other rock formations.  It was sweltering hot this visit (on my previous visit it was the beginning of winter) and so we just admired the view from the rim.

There were some hardy (or fool-hardy) souls down walking among the rocks, much too hot for us.

I’m so glad we got the opportunity to visit these wonderful places when we did.  They are memories that I shall treasure for the rest of my life.

Have a great day 😊

Margaret.

 

The Home Butcher

 

I was sorting through some old photos today and found this one from just over fifty years ago.  

I grew up on a dairy farm and about once a year my father would get an animal butchered for our beef (he slaughtered the sheep himself).

The butcher would arrive and humanely shoot the steer before preparing it and hanging it up as shown in this picture.

The carcass would remain like this overnight, then early next morning it would be all hands on deck. 

My father helped the butcher cut the beast up and my mother would divide the cuts into portions suitable for freezing.  Us children would get given the job of helping to package the meat into plastic bags and sealing and labelling them ready for the freezer.

Nothing was wasted.  Fat was rendered down for use as dripping, and scrappy bits of meat were put through the mincer.

With the end of the job in sight, we would be released from our chores and usually given a few scraps of meat to play with. 

I remember my brother and I lighting small fires and trying to cook them.  I don’t remember eating any of the burnt offerings we ended up with!

Things have changed a lot over the last fifty years 😊

Margaret.

 

Thankyou So&So

 

Nearly five years ago my laptop crashed, and the following week my back-up hard-drive corrupted.  Thankfully most of my records were still available on a much older hard-drive, but there were still some important files I was unable to access.

Among them were nearly all my photographs from 2015 to 2018.  I mourned those photos and always hoped that one day I might take the laptop to an expert somewhere and maybe, just maybe, it would be possible to “rescue” them.

My husband died soon afterwards and the laptop disappeared into all the other bits and pieces that got packed away through all the upheaval and put into storage.

It got unpacked again when I moved in to live with Son, but got pushed to the back of a wardrobe and almost forgotten about.

Gore Bay, Cheviot

Recently I was talking with some people and it came up in conversation.  Why not ask So&So if he can help, I was asked – and so I did, and he has!

It apparently took a bit of working to get into the laptop system, but all my files were still there.

Grand Hotel, Akaroa

I have spent a few hours today looking through them (now on a terabyte external solid-state hard-drive) and all I can say is THANKYOU to So&So for all his help. 

I am so thrilled to be able to see my photos again.  They included three major trips away, two down to Christchurch and the other one trekking at Abel Tasman National Park.

Awaroa Beach, Abel Tasman NP

Photographs may only be records of memory, but they can be very precious to us and I am so happy to see these ones again.

Margaret 😊

 

(The photos are all “rescued” ones from my three trips away.)

 

Farewell To The Orchard

 

It makes me sad to think that these gorgeous trees, photographed when I visited there on a drizzly day in 2012, are now gone or soon to be gone.

I have a cousin who owns an apple and pear orchard and he is currently busy removing all his trees.  This orchard has been here for over one hundred years and used to be surrounded by other orchards and farmland.

Now it is an island amidst sprawling urban development.  People complain bitterly when the hail cannon is used all night, and spray drift is a major problem (and remember that orchardists must spray if they wish to export).

Add to this the issue of continual low prices and rising overheads, the difficulty of obtaining casual labour, my cousin’s increasing age and the fact that no-one else in the family wishes to take on the business, and I can sympathize with the hard decision my cousin and wife have had to make.

The land will be put down in grassland first, and it will no doubt not be long before subdivision begins.

Progress and change are a continual process and I must not complain.  When my grandfather established this orchard, he had to break in the land first.  That was progress and a huge change in the way the land was used and was really very little different to what is happening today.

It is Black Friday today, the 13 May.  I’m so glad I am not superstitious or I might blame it for not letting me comment on anybody’s blog at the moment!

Hope you have a great day 😊

Margaret.

 

New Year's Eve

 

The last day of the year 2021!  I wonder what 2022 will bring us?  Hopefully much cheer and happiness!

This morning I visited a cousin of mine.  She and her husband only live a short distance out of the city, but it has been almost twelve months since I last saw them.

It was great to catch up over a cup of tea and some shortbread and Christmas cake.

We got to talking about the “good old days” when we were children and our different memories of our shared grandmother.  She always wore a hat and gloves when going into town, and was quite a stickler for doing things “the proper way.” 

We remembered her home and the large section it sat upon.  She had two full-size plum trees in the back garden, a large vegetable garden, and a dug-out beneath the house that was used as a garden shed.  I can still remember the smell of that place, all dusty and cobwebby and full of shells she had collected over the years.

And then my cousin produced a diary her mother had passed on to her.  It was dated December 1899 and was a record of a holiday my grandmother’s mother took when she sailed from Wellington, New Zealand, to Sydney, Australia, and stayed with some of her many relations there.

She had taken her two children with her – my grandmother (then aged 4 years) and my great-uncle (then aged 2 years).

I have spent a happy afternoon reading the account (the words I can decipher, anyway!), and it is intriguing to read about shopping for silk and lace to make a bonnet, catching the train to get around the city, and being met at the station by a cab and two horses.

Her diary entry for today (31 December) reads:  “Charlie opened the bottle of champagne for dinner.  A sleepy afternoon.  I read on the verandah while the children blew bubbles.  Still very hot, day and night.”

She could almost have been writing about life as we know it today 😊

Margaret.

 

Fifty Years Ago

 

I always think it is strange how memories have no time frame to them.  Whether it happened yesterday or last month or decades ago, the memory remains the same and takes no account of time having past by.

In some ways fifty years sounds like a long time, but in other ways it is no time at all.  That is how I am feeling today, as it was fifty years ago that I first met my husband.

We met on a Blind Date, organized by my girlfriend as I never had a partner to attend a 21^st birthday party.  I am so glad she set us up together!

It was the start of a relationship that lasted nearly forty-seven years and left me with multiple happy memories, and gratitude that I was able to meet such a wonderful man and become his wife for so many years.

My Garden this morning

It has been a bit of a hectic week this week and I have spent very little time on my computer.  My apologies for not visiting anyone's blog.

One of my brothers had a triple bypass heart operation that never went as smoothly as was expected. He is on the road to recovery now and hopefully will soon be able to leave ICU and head into a cardiac ward.  It is always a major concern when a loved one becomes ill, and the longer I live the more it seems to happen.

Ginger, a scented-leaf pelargonium

Shopping has gone crazy this week.  Everywhere is full of Black Friday Week sales, Christmas is looming, the easing of covid restrictions means more places are open for business, and next week there is the threat of unvaccinated people with no ‘pass’ being not able to go to many places.  So it seems that this week, every man and his dog (as the saying goes!), has been in town.

I still went shopping though. 

I bought a new floor mop and bucket, and a yard broom, as well as a decorative box to hold my ironing while it waits patiently for me to get to do it.

But my happiest purchases have been some new pelargoniums.  Five, in fact.  

Harmony has pink flowers with a white centre, Really Red is red, Vancouver Centennial has pretty leaves, Lady Plymouth has rose scented leaves, and Ginger has ginger-scented leaves and pretty flowers.

Really Red really is RED!

I hope everyone has an enjoyable weekend,

Margaret 😊

Swimming Hole Memories

 

One of the enduring memories I have as a child in summertime was swimming in my uncle’s creek.

He had damned up one area to create a small swimming hole and it was great fun to splash around there with my cousins and any adults who happened to be around at the time (we were never allowed to swim unsupervised).

My uncle also made a small raft (visible in the photo) but I could never manage the trick of getting up on it so I could dive off.  It must have been a girlie thing because my brothers never had any problem.

This blissful summer activity died a quick death the day I discovered I was sharing the creek with a very large eel – I flatly refused to enter the water again after that!

Were you lucky enough to have a swimming hole when you were younger?

Margaret 😊

Eleven Years Ago

 

With lots of wet weather and the Olympics in progress, it is easy to guess what I have been doing the last few days! 

Thankfully, son and I are fairly compatible with what we enjoy watching, so there are no heated discussions about what we will watch.

My favourites so far would have to be the cycle road races and the rugby sevens.  The most boring I have seen would have to be taekwondo – and my apologies to all those who enjoy it!

Eleven years ago, we were living at the campground at the foot of Mt Maunganui at Tauranga (seen here in the distance), so I thought a few memories from that time might be interesting.

We often went walking around and up and all over the Mount, but this track was one I usually avoided.  I believe it has now slipped down the bank, so I feel my fears were justified!

The views were always awesome.

Californian Quail used to wander through the camp and would sometimes even come right inside the caravan to stand and look warily at us.

Looking up towards the top, from about half way up

Being winter, we were not immune to the odd storm passing through

Nearly all the time, whatever the weather, we could watch the surfers out in the waves

Time now to go watch the sailing 😊

Margaret.

A Wedding Dress

 

The rain finally arrived mid-afternoon.  We have been waiting for it to come, all day, and it is cooling things down nicely.  The ground will welcome some moisture for a change.

This photo is of the land behind our home.  It is designated to become a road, but at the moment is being left to simply grow.

I’ve been doing some genealogy research today, and discovered a newspaper article about my mother-in-law’s wedding.  Wow, they really knew how to describe things back then (it was 1939).  She wore “a graceful gown of ivory chenille marquisette over taffeta, cut on slim-fitting classical lines.  The skirt, which was edged with narrow pleated tulle, merged into a court train.  The bodice, which was fashioned with a heart-shaped neckline trimmed by a sprig of orange blossom on either side, was softly shirred, and long sleeves, slightly gathered on the shoulders, finished in points at the wrists.  Her beautifully embroidered tulle veil, worn over the face on entering the church, was held in place with a high coronet of orange blossom, and fell to form a second train.  A trailing bouquet of pink and white roses, arranged with maidenhair fern, was carried.  The Church was beautifully arranged with pale pink camellias, jonquils, and fern.”

I have a photo of her in her wedding gown, and I think she looks absolutely stunning.

This convolvulus was seen one day when out walking.  It is a terribly invasive weed, but I do like the intense blue of its flowers.

Have a great day 😊

Margaret.

Our First Home

Our first home was an old tiny rental cottage on a farm about ten minutes’ drive from the nearest town.  I drove past here last year and the place has now been demolished and replaced with paddock.

The cottage was small – it had a tiny kitchen with a bathroom off it, two very small bedrooms, and a living room with an open fire.  Attached to the house was a porch area with a wash-house and toilet.  There were no locks on any doors, even the external ones. 

The chimney used to leak every time it rained, and occasionally I would find toadstools growing in the carpet beside the hearth!! 

 

But it was our first home and we loved it.  We planted our first garden, both vegetables and flowers.  Along the fence line we had dahlias – the best display of dahlias we ever grew. 

We also got our first pet, a Chinchilla named Misty, who loved water.  When we watered the garden, she would lie in wait behind the lettuces and dive out at the spray of water.  Here she is sitting beneath a dripping tap.

We lived here for eight months before moving on.  We were young and life was an adventure.  We were happy there, but now I like to have a bit more comfort in my life! 

Keep smiling J 

Margaret.

LINKED TO Timeless Thursday

Milky Memories

My childhood years were spent on a dairy farm in the heart of the Waikato, a well-known dairying area of New Zealand.

The farm was around 100 acres in size and we ran about 120 cows plus a few heifers and bulls and a couple of sheep for home-kills.  Each cow had a name and my father knew every one of them.

The cows were milked twice a day in a walk-through shed using an electrical milking machine.  Normally there were two people doing the milking and there would be a radio blaring out music to help settle the cows down.  There was a molasses-lick in the back yard as well as a water trough, so the cows were pretty happy chappies.

The milk was pumped through into a small ante room and run over an open chiller (no hygiene worries in those days!) to cool it down before pumping it into the holding vat ready for collection.

Once a day a milk tanker (as children we called them Anchor Tankers) would arrive to pump out the vat.  Tankers today are much bigger and often have trailers, as well as being fully computerized for the collection of samples etc.

The milk was then taken to the local dairy factory – our farm supplied the Waharoa factory near Matamata.  The factory is long since closed, and this photo was taken in 1973.

Memory Lane is a lovely place to wander down sometimes J

Margaret.

LINKED TO Timeless Thursdays

Mother's Day

Today is Mother’s Day, a day set aside to especially appreciate mothers – of which I am one!

We don’t do gifts, instead, we talk and hug and laugh together.  We do this other days as well, but it is always nice to have special attention on this day, and I have enjoyed speaking with my far-flung children this morning.

It is ten years since my own dear mother left this world.  I still miss her smiling face, her care and concern, the little talks we shared together.  She will always remain in a special place in my heart.

I found this old photo (taken sometime in the 1930s) of my mother with her mother, and her mother – three generations together!

  

Thirty years later the photo was repeated – with myself, my mother, and her mother.

I first became a mother myself in 1974.  My children have enriched my life and given me much pleasure (and strife!) over the years.

I thought this made a lovely poem for Mother’s Day:

I KNOW A FACE, A LOVELY FACE,

AS FULL OF BEAUTY AS OF GRACE,

A FACE OF PLEASURE, EVER BRIGHT,

IN UTTER DARKNESS IT GIVES LIGHT.

A FACE THAT IS ITSELF LIKE JOY,

TO HAVE SEEN IT I’M A LUCKY BOY;

BUT I’VE A JOY THAT HAVE FEW OTHER,

THIS LOVELY WOMAN IS MY MOTHER.

It was written by Edward Wyndham Tennant especially for Lady Glenconner, his mother.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the great mothers out there J

Margaret.

Happy Holiday Memories

Every year my mother would take the four of us children to the beach for two weeks of holiday (my father had to stay home and milk the cows).

We always stayed at this camping ground in Tauranga.

The children would play in the sand, go swimming, play at the nearby playground, or generally just get up to mischief around the camp.  The adults would congregate beneath the umbrellas!

This photo brought back memories as I looked at the clothes (the photo is of me and my three younger brothers).  My mother used to make nearly all of our clothing herself.

We used to stay in one of the camp cabins.  I remember it had a pay-as-you-go electricity meter, which always seemed to run out in the middle of cooking dinner.

I was about ten years old in this photo.

This camping ground has now vanished and been replaced with luxury townhouses.  One thing that never changes in this world is change!

Stay happy J

Margaret.

LINKED TO Timeless Thursdays

Harvest Memories

I used to love going with my husband in the truck during maize silage time.  This harvest is in full swing at the moment, classed as essential work along with most other agricultural businesses.

The maize is harvested once the cobs are fully formed but are still ‘green.’  That is, the kernels are still at the milky stage and not dried as is needed when harvesting for grain.

The harvester, known locally as The Chopper, would cut and chop the entire plant before sending it through the chute and onto a waiting truck.

As one truck was filled, another would be waiting to take its place.

It was easy to see which part of the paddock had been harvested!  The pieces that were missed would be collected by the chopper on its last circuit of the paddock.

The truck would then carry its precious load (imagine the sweet smell of freshly chopped maize, I loved it) to where the stack was being built.  Sometimes this could be quite a distance away, as usually the person growing the crop and the person buying it would be different people.

The Stack Tractor is responsible for shaping the silage stack and compressing it down firmly.

Once completed, the stack would be covered with polythene and weighted down with old tyres.  After a couple of months it will be ready to use as supplementary winter feed for cattle.

Farm life is a great way to stay tuned into the different seasons of the year, as is caring for a garden.  Each season has its own work and its own beauty.

Let’s appreciate every day for what it brings,

Margaret.

Climbing Hills

Over the years we lived in many different houses, often in rural areas.  Nearly always we had wonderful neighbours who would allow us to wander over their farms as long as we never disturbed stock and always left gates how we found them.

One such place we lived in, during 2006, had a good-sized hill behind the house, and I used to walk up here almost every day.

The property was in a long deep valley not too far from Te Awamutu.  This was the view from half-way up the hill.

The woolshed can be seen on the left, the old shearer’s quarters on the right, and our home was the one nestled in among the trees.

It was a deceptively steep climb up this hill.  I used to sit in the grass at the top and look back down over the valley while I caught my breath again.

If I felt energetic the tractor track continued up into the hills beyond and made for a longer walk.

When you got high enough the road noise disappeared and it became very quiet with only the wind, farm stock and a few birds making the odd noise.  I loved the silence.

I seldom walked past the duck pond, but would turn around here and make my way back down again.

These photos were all taken on various walks during 2006, and I always felt the house was welcoming me when I returned from a walk.  Maybe it was the cup of tea I was looking forward to!

What a joy it is to be able to look back upon pleasant memories J

Margaret.