Seriously, who gets a chicken for their birthday!!!!!!!!!!

Garston is an occasionally strange and wonderful place!! We are truly blessed with some fantastic friends and neighbours but their choice in birthday presents never fails to amaze. Word of the great stoat attack and loss of one of our dearly beloved hens has clearly reverberated around the area but I could never have guessed that she would be replaced so soon.
Sharon and I celebrated my birthday with lunch at the Mt Difficulty Winery (very good by the way) and then that evening Sharon invited a few of the neighbours around for a few quiet drinks. Which are rarely few or quiet!!
As a staunch and regularly disappointed Everton Fc supporter I was surprised at how it was a blue theme that ran through the evening. Football, or soccer as it is more commonly know here, is a relatively new and largely disliked and disregarded concept, especially in Southland, as rugby, or football as it is more commonly known here, rules all! However, always willing to embrace the unknown, our good friends, embraced the love of the Toffee men, for the evening at least.
I was afforded at bottle of Wolfe Blass wine cleverly disguised as an Everton tipple and was even serenaded with a Kiwi rendition of....... 'it's a grand old team to play for, its a grand old team to support........' you get the idea. Tom even went to the trouble of dressing up, in a, well, ill-conceived but well meaning way, as a Scouser.
But most surprisingly and intriguing of all, taking nothing from Tom's beautiful, if not altogether tuneful voice, was a large box, wrapped lovingly in Batman birthday wrap, gifted by he wonderful Wilkins' clan. Carefully and somewhat nervously I unwrapped the gift. A long standing joke involving some Police 'do not cross' tape and the Wilkins' newly opened vegetable and superb venison and lamb outlet gave me reason to be concerned.
As the batman wrap and small portion of said Police tape peeled back and underlying box revealed it became only too apparent from the agitated scratching and clucking from within what its contents were.........a chicken! However, this was no ordinary chicken, oh no. This chicken had allegiance, this chicken new the pain of supporting perennial under achievers, this chicken supported Everton!! It proudly displayed it's alliance by virtue of its blue beak and claws and most proudly by the medallion that adorned its neck!!! This was, and proud of it, an Everton FC supporting chicken who shall for ever more be known as.... Ever-tina!!
Following the obligatory photographs, see attached, Ever-tina was introduced to the hen house and settled in for the evening as did we. The wine flowed in what turned out to be a fantastic evening. I am regularly, pleasantly, overwhelmed by the people here, their warmth and their humour is unsurpassed.

Castle Hill Lodge would like to inform readers that no chickens were hurt in this episode and Ever-tine has settled in swimmingly with the other girls of the coup.

The little fella didn't last long!!

Sad news I am afraid. Having successfully hatched our first baby Quail on my birthday, I am very sorry to report that today 27th January, 2012 he passed away. He will remain unnamed.

God speed little fella.

We are hoping to have some better luck with future hatchings at the Lodge.

Moving Piano's Southland Style!!

When Tom, our neighbour from up the hill and soon to be father of two, invited us to his place for a BBQ we thought, great, great way to catch up with our good friends a crack open a beer for the New Year, brilliant. Now pretty accustomed to the Southland BBQ we rummaged through the freezer for some decent sized slabs of meat and slapped them in a old ice cream tub, preparation, done! For those of you that may be reading this in, say, London, Paris, New York or any other city or town where supermarkets are two a penny and pretty handy, meat is done a little different down here.
First of all you generally, knew the beast, cared for it, fed it, moved it between paddocks or at the very least, and in our case being the big city sissies that we are, were, are.......anyway, at the very least you know someone who cared, fed or regularly moved it, a few months prior to it eventually makes its way to the grill. The second and perhaps most obvious point of difference is that they really don't care what it looks like, its meat, it ain't  meant to be pretty! Oh no, long gone are the days of water filled, plump, carefully portioned and exquisitely presented mince and trimmed, symmetrical and perfectly sized for the discerning diner steaks from Asda. It's a dead cow..... chop it up, whack some cling film round it and Bob's your uncle! However, the third difference is that it tastes sooo much better!
Anyway, I have strayed somewhat from the point. Innocently, we arrived at said BBQ, irregularly sized steaks in the ice cream tub which we to the cook, Tom, and sat down for a beer or two. Things continued quite merrily. Tom's cooking was to an excellent standard, there was, as expected, a ton of meat, of various kinds and a completely irrelevant and largely untouched salad.
It was only when we were all very pleasantly full and mildly intoxicated that Tom's heavily pregnant wife, Katie, disclosed the true reasons for the festivities. There was, in fact a piano that required moving!! To make room for the imminent addition the upright piano was to be moved out the room, across the kitchen, through the pantry, across the garden, over the road into the paddock and be relocated in the workroom!
Buoyed on by the raucous Chardonnay swilling female crowd, the testosterone took over and muscle it we did. Four burly chaps, one on each corner, lifted, dragged puffed and panted our way through the trick chicane of the kitchen and pantry and breezed across open expanse of the garden to the gate. It was a scene not dissimilar to that of the old PG Tips adverts and their famous chimps. Pretty exhausted by the effort, although all of us were trying not to show it, we looked despairingly at the not altogether short distance between the house and the workroom and the rather rough looking path and gravel road which would not allow use of the piano's inadequate wheels.
It was then we saw it..... Tom's tractor, yes the tractor, the tractor was the answer. Operating heavy machinery would allow us to maintain our masculine pride and prevent the need to break out into an unsightly and completely unnecessary sweat or run a risk of pulling a hammy!
With Tom at the helm of the powerful blue beast and forks lowered we carefully and ever so precisely moved the piano into position. At this point the sensible thing to do would be to find some rope or straps, not that hard to find or particularly rare on a farm and secure the piano. That would be the sensible thing and for that very reason, not what we did. Instead, Gerry and I positioned ourselves precariously on the prongs and held the piano in position. Not that we would have been able to hold the thing in position anyway had it moved, but I think it made us feel better.
In a scene that would have given a health and safety inspector a heart attack and killed them on the spot, we trundled across the public road, perched on the 2 inch wide prongs of a large tractor 10 feet in the air holding onto a really heavy piano!
I am pleased to report that I am still alive and in one piece as are all of the removal experts of Garston. We were lucky, it all turned out okay, but there is a lesson here........ If you are ever invited to Tom and Katie's for a BBQ, find out why before you say yes.
Just another night in paradise!!!!!!! 

Stoat attack at the Lodge!!!!!

Having just enjoyed the festivities of the new year with our very good friends, feeling extremely relaxed and happy albeit a wee bit tired we returned to the lodge and settled in front of the TV for the evening. I must at this juncture deviate and just extend our thanks to the best neighbour in the world, Pam Naylor, for taking such good care of the place and animals in out absence.
It is about midnight and we are lying prone on the settee, Hercules nestled between us, snoring as usual, watching The Green Mile when there is an almighty squawk from outside. We both looked at each other, mainly for reassurance that the other one had also heard it and in the hope that they had answer as to what it was!!! With the TV muted and the pair of us now looking out of the window into nothing but darkness we waited.......... 'SquawK!!!!!!' there it was again.
This time I ran outside and heard the now more frequent and panicked squeals from the chicken coup. With extreme bravery and with complete disregard for my own safety :-) I charged for the coup only to trip up over one of the now free and hysterical chickens. Picking myself up I made it to the enclosure. One of the hens was tipped up and unfortunately no longer with us and across the run I saw it, the grotesquely elongated and stealth like body of a stoat....
'Sharon' I exclaimed 'get me something to hit this f*****g thing with.
Sharon who was by this time in hot pursuit in her pink pyjamas, turns tail runs back and quick as a flash returns with the biggest axe in the world!!!!
Meanwhile, me and the stoat are transfixed in a stare down both trying to work out what the others next move would be. The chickens are running everywhere and of course all the activity has alerted Sid the sheep to the state of emergency. Sid, however, finds the sight of Sharon carrying an axe in pink pj's hilarious and is completely oblivious to the seriousness of the situation and proceeds to skip around like a new born lamb and take advantage of the open chicken run by helping himself to the chicken food!!
Me and the Stoat are still locked in our trance.
Sharon hands me the axe, no one is more surprised than me at being handed a very large axe to go into combat with a stoat. Anyway, Sharon's return or possibly the sight of her looking really rather lovely in her jim jams breaks my concentration and the Stoat seizes it's chance and runs for it and is lost in the dark!!
There is nothing I can do for the prone chicken, she did I believe put up a brave fight but now we have to recover the remaining five.
"SQUAWK!" Sharon is alerted to more panicked clucking runs across the yard. Armed only with a small torch she elects the screaming, slightly crazed unpredictable foe approach as she bound into the darkness and possible confrontation!! I follow as fast as I can and we find bumbles the chicken upside down head lopped to one side. I can hear rustling beneath the bush and try to flush the little rodent out, still clutching the enormous axe and still determined to take revenge for not only the unnamed chicken but for Bumbles!! She was so named as she had a bout of 'Bumble Foot' a skin condition that we had nursed her through a couple of months prior.
Unfortunately the stoat was too quick and it scuttled passed me and into the woods and that was the last I saw of it.
I returned to where Bumbles had fallen and bent over her expecting the worse. She was still alive!! Carefully, I picked her up and put her back on her feet; dazed and a wee bit unstable, bleeding slightly from the beak, she waddled forward and sat down, feathers all puffed and panting ever so heavily, for a chicken. I scoped her up and carried her back to the coup and slowly we rounded up the remaining chickens and locked them securely away for the night.
I am glad to report that Bumbles and the girls are doing well.
As for the stoat, he'll come again but this time we will be ready!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy New Year

Sharon, Mark, Hercules the Cat, Jack and Ryan the pigs, Sid and Reo the sheep, Basil and Parsley the goats, the goldfish (as yet unnamed but suggestions gladly accepted), Bumbles the Chicken and her 5 new friends would like to wish all the customers of Castle Hill Lodge, past, present and future the very best for 2012.

The Great Power Cut of 2011!

Well the day started off innocently enough and pretty much like any other day here at the lodge. A couple of 2 minute power cuts, nothing to worry about. Our guests were out in the garden anyway and unaware of the annoying little incidents.
Being the perfect host that I am I had already made up the venison stew for the evening meal and it was busy doing it's thing in the oven.
The winds started to pick up quite rapidly outside much to the annoyance of our chickens who find it pretty imposible to walk with any dignity when there's a small tornado whipping up their feathers. They end up flying along the ground at an incredible pace and generally in the opposite direction to which they want to go.
Parsley, as usual, believed the world was coming to an end and began to run around here enclosure like a goat possessed, Basil looking on in dismay and far more concerned about the lack of pellets he had received that morning.
Well, with trees bending and gates swinging the power cut finally arrived at around 5pm. Not too much of a problem as it was still light.
Now where did I put those candles?
Our guests came indoors and, in true crisis style, we got the Monopoly and cards out.
Once 7pm arrived I think it became clear that the power was not returning for some time and so the hunt for candles and torches commenced. Success, one candle and 2 torches with flat batteries!
There was also no water as our electrically run pumps were no longer operative.
Not to be panicked, we put the wood burner on full blast and began the very slow process of cooking rice in a pan on top of it. In true British style we managed to make an endless supply of cups of tea on our tiny camping stove. You can deal with anything if you have tea!
Mark was called out to work on numerous occasions during the night due to power poles and trees falling down everywhere. It was pretty scarey sat indoors listening to it all, seemed to come in waves of complete calm and then chaos for a few seconds. Just before the rains came I manage to get the sheep in, more for my benefit than theirs I think as they seemed completely unmoved by the whole thing.
We could hear lots of loud noises on the roof as various sized branches and debris hit us, made all the more scarey by the night time darkness having arrived.
Monopoly by torch light soon ended and as the heavy rains fell and the wind seemed to subside we all made our way to the safety of our comfy beds.
The following morning was a beautiful day but still without power.
We discovered 2 fallen trees but no other damage at all, what a relief. Normality was restored at 3pm that day when the power finally returned.
It's life on the edge here in Garston. Do come and visit.

It's been a while

We are so sorry for abandoning our blog for such an amount of time but as usual our fast paced and crazy lives took over.
To update you fully. We finished our sunflower season with a bang and sold out every time we went to market. It wasn't however to be our fortune maker just a little bit of pocket money you might say once the petrol and parking tickets had been paid! We had a blast though and i think will continue with this venture next season. It made people smile and you can't beat that.

Big changes too in the full time employment stakes. I left for a year and am now in the middle of my time off. However, very unlike our normal selves, we made a decision to take a slightly safer option when Mark was offered the perfect local cop job. It seemed too good an opportunity to let go and so I am, much to my dismay on cold days, alone in my fight against the constraints of full time employment and normal life. Mark does fight the cause too but only on his days off!

Our busy season is well and truly over now at the lodge. We have a few guests due to stay each month but certainly not enough to keep the debt collectors away. Fear not though we are, as is the norm, hatching various plans. Sending all the brood to the circus is at the fore front of this list.

We recently returned from a trip to England where, for once, the sun was shining and it wasn't raining. The lodge and animals were looked after by our wonderful neighbour Pam without whom we would be lost sometimes. Upon return there had been various feats of misadventure by all the fur coated creatures.
Jack and Ryan, our pigs, had decided that the goat enclosure was offering so much more than theirs was. So, sensing that the electric fence had finally lost it's charge, they made a run for it. When I say run I suspect it was more about getting their stomachs to roll forward and then allowing momentum to do the rest. Once on the heavenly side of the fence they took over the goats hut and had an amazing holiday in a new and unexplored land.
Reo, our sheep, upon seeing that the pig enclosure was absent of it's snoring and farting occupants decided that she too should check out new territory. Once again helped by the fact that our electric fence was on holiday she lept across the great divide. Sid, our fur ball sheep, was on a leash and unable to follow as I feel sure he would have.
Parsley, upon seeing the new occupants of her enclosure, began to butt everything. She doesn't like change does our Parsley and her answer to everything is to hit it with her head first and then when that doesn't sort it out well she hits it again. Basil was uninterested and bored of eating hay.
I am sure you can imagine the scene as we returned from holiday to see, well, to see no-one where they should be.
Hercules greeted us with loud meows which continued all night. Infact they are still continuing and we've been home a week now. His routine has finally returned though. At the first hint of movement in the house each morning he is at the front door meowing like life itself depends upon him being heard. Once inside he eats biscuits, cries for milk and goes to his cushion in the lounge. This cushion, although already soft and fluffy, is then padded and clawed for 15 minutes to make it softer and fluffier until he finally goes to sleep. Here is where Hercules remains until he is forcibly ejected around 10pm each night.
So, the electric fence is now charged, the animals in their own beds, Hercules on his cushion indoors, the fires glowing with a welcoming warmth, normality is restored once again at Castle Hill Lodge.
Wonder what this next year is going to bring? Whatever it is we can't wait to get on with it.