Log 19: Patty comes to New Zealand and a Kiwi Thanksgiving!

On November 17^th, having lost an entire day in the air and her birthday, my Mom arrived in New Zealand for a bit of a visit over the US Thanksgiving!  Even though I hadn’t really been missing the US much yet, I was missing my family and it was great to have my Mom come see me! Maybe next time I’ll get dad out as well, but two weeks was a long time for him to be away from the farm.  

We decided while she was here that we would show the Kiwi’s what an American Thanksgiving was all about since many had asked me questions about it and they wanted to know how you could possibly have a pumpkin pie that was no savory, but sweet. They kiwi pumpkins have a green husk and to me taste more like squash so I had Mom bring over a large can of real pumpkin puree for the pies. Gotta be authentic!  So Mom and I set about making preparations and finding a turkey, we found a farm that raised them and has frozen ones for sale so we drove out to pick on up.  A sweet old lady showed us to the freezer and we picked out a 7kg (~14lb) turkey and when I asked the price I almost fainted when she said $80 (~65 USD). I almost refused but because I had 20 people showing up at my house in a few days for Thanksgiving dinner I needed a turkey and didn’t know where else to go.

The next day Mom and I headed out tiki touring a bit and stopped at the Moeraki boulders near Dunedin as well as stopping in the actually village of Moeraki for lunch at a famous fish restaurant called Fleurs.  Though we didn’t know you needed a reservation, and showing up at lunch time on a Saturday there weren’t any open tables, but we were allowed to sit at the bar. We sampled the seafood chowder and another grilled fish dish and washed it down with a cider before heading back on the road to the Otago peninsula to walk around the gardens of Lanarch castle.  We stayed the night at a little hostel in an even smaller town called Milton where Mom had her first hostelling experience. A little Swiss hippie man was running the place and he was really nice but insisted on washing our dishes and ‘suggesting’ how to cook and where.  We also got to feed his pet lamb… but we surprised him when I fed it like I knew what I was doing.  I finally confessed my profession and that Mom and I were from a farm and he got a giggle out of it.

We drove onto Milford sound and saw the chasm again on the way, then stayed at the lodge there and took a boat ride out to the Tasman sea the next morning, but this time we got breakfast! Fruit and museli but it was still breakfast!  We drove back through Queenstown and Cardrona and stopped at the inn for a beer and some sweet chili and sour cream wedges…YUM!  By the time we got to Lake Tekapo I needed a break from driving so we stopped at the edge of the lake and we put our feet in the lake water to say we did and to get an appreciation for how cold it was. Glacial fed these lakes and rivers, bright blue water from the high mineral content but your feet will freeze in about 3 seconds from the temperature.

               

We were planning to do Thanksgiving on the real day but Barb my landlady was going to be going to Aussie, so we compromised and went a day early. Mom and I spent the day before cooking pies and preparing the turkey and stuffing, as well as finding supplies to make pretzels.  The day of the big dinner we made the pretzels, as well as some cartoon pictures attempting to tell the story of the first thanksgiving to explain to the Kiwi’s. “Basically the pilgrims came over and were making a poor go of the colony, until the Indians showed us what to hunt and how to grow food to get us through winter. So in thanks we had a big dinner then gave them smallpox, and annihilated their tribes for the next 200 years. The end.”  

Everyone arrived in my garage and we had a buffet style dinner since we didn’t have enough chairs.  The turkey came out great as well as the pumpkin pies. Barb and Ross even came and I know they had a good time cuz Ross stayed out and partied with us instead of going to bed. Eilis came down from Christchurch I talked her into playing a few tunes with me for the group.  Richard, Susan’s partner, seemed keen to try out the fiddle and in 10min we had him playing Three Blind Mice and he was so excited! I think everyone had a blast and Mom and I certainly did too. 

The next day we had a bit of a lie in then went for a short tramp towards the mines at Woolshed creek so show Mom just what this tramping thing was all about.  I soon found I had challenged her a bit too much when I took the wrong trail and there was quite a bit of rock climbing and bush whacking. I confessed my wrong direction in the middle and promised this was the worst bit.  Oops.  We stopped for lunch at the mines and then headed back down to Merino.  On the way back my radiator hose sprung a leak and we had to make an emergency pit stop into Gary’s to get that replaced. Thankfully he was home and was able to fix it pretty quick. These old cars… I’m going to start carrying all kinds of liquids with me in the boot, oh I mean trunk!

After a nap and a change, Mom came with me to touch that night. I was a bit worried as one of our clients, Craig, who plays on our team when we are short of people along with some of his workers, had decided I was really fun to pick on and he was more than excited to meet my mother.  I did threaten him with a lashing though, and told him under no circumstances was he allowed to pick on my mother. He said he’d be on his best behavior and that he’d even bring his teenage daughter as a chaperone. True to his word he was really nice but I had an eye on him the whole time. I think our team won but I’m never sure at the end as the point system changes if a girl or a guy makes a ‘tri’ or a ‘goal’ but Team Richard, was doing a great job. Two partners of our vets are both named Richard and play touch with us and both are pretty darn fast and cheeky when it comes to playing touch. I’m usually running along the side just trying to figure out who has the ball and where it is going, if thrown to me, I try to hand it off as quickly as possible. The beers and conversation in the club afterward make it all worth it though.

The next day Mom and I headed off tiki touring again, north this time towards the top of the south island. Our first stop was in Kaiakoura where I thought we’d see some seals at the seal colony, maybe it was the wrong season or the wrong time of day but there were none. But we went up the coast to a look-out point anyway. This was where I made the very unfortunate mistake of slamming my left index finger in the car door attempting to give another car some room. OWW!  A large blood blister under the nail and throbbing pain was quite irritating. We found a hotel that gave me a bag of ice and I iced my finger while Mom shifted the transmission for me as we continued on. This was also just a week before the Possum’s were recording a CD and I was more than worried that my finger wasn’t going to be able to press down on my finger board let alone play anything great sounding and solid. Grr. 

We made it up to Blenheim and Picton and took a tour out on a mail boat around the Queen Charlotte Sounds. Stayed the night there and then headed back down and stayed in Kaiakoura again for the night. Maybe it was all the driving making us giddy, but Mom and I made an evening of playing movie charades in our sketchy ‘Delux Cabin’ where we stayed.  Back in Christchurch we went to the Saturday Riccarton market, which is everything from garage sale items, boxes of books, homemade soaps and finger puppets, to well done crafts and food stands. Eilis met up with us and we all cruised the market while a Scottish band played tunes on the small stage in the center.

We stopped for lunch at a pizza joint, then stayed in Christchurch for the day and saw an art exhibit at the gallery later in the day.  Just about the time I realized it was time to go meet the band for a final rehearsal before our big recording weekend, I also realized I had locked my keys in my car!  DOH!  I was finally going to be on time for a practice because I was IN town and I was still going to be late!  Luckily a shop keeping took pitty on me let me use his phone book to call a towing company and they came and unlocked my car for the price of a Thanksgiving turkey, $80.

Finally at practice, I introduced Mom to the guys and she was entertained and fed wine by Sue, Bryz’s wife, while we played some tunes and met with the sound engineer that was going to do our recording. Hours later we finally made it back to Ashburton as I had work in the morning, and I think Mom was ready for a lie in anyway.  After dinner with Ross and Barb Mom and I headed up to Christchurch again for a session at Bailies and to stay in a hotel for the night as Mom’s flight left really early in the morning. It was very strange staying in even the most budget hotel after becoming so used to hostels and dorm style housing. It was like luxury living!  After an exhausting 2 weeks of touring I hope my Mom got to see enough of New Zealand, it was great having her come all the way out to see me all the craziness of my life at the moment!  

Patty tramping like a trooper!!!  Silly Kat took the wrong trail...

Mom and I at heading to Milford sound

Thanksgiving! I was too busy chatting and didn't get any good photos:(

Someone proped up a possum carcass....i felt i needed to point and grimace.

Log 18: Beach tramp, and Show Day!

Its November now and I can’t believe time has flown by as it has.  Only 2 months from now I’ll be heading off to Asia with my friend Matt, which we finally have almost all planned!

Determined to get more tramping in and not spend any of my weekends idle, I decided to head up to Christchurch and just see what happened. After walking around the markets, having lunch and a glass of wine in a café, I convinced Eilis to come into town and have a coffee and see a movie with me.  Meanwhile she talked me into going tramping with the Peninsula Tramping Club on Amberly Beach the next day. Making an attempt to meet new people and maybe some people our own age after our experience from the festival, we set out full of hope.  When arrived at the rendezvous point, the people arriving were definitely of the grey hair variety.  I told Eilis that if anyone shows up with a cane we’re not getting out of the car.  Not quite canes but lots of hiking poles, and knee pads…  Lordy!  What else were we gonna do with our day right?  After meeting Stan the leader, the group carpooled to the trailhead and after some brief introductions it seemed we were on our way.  First he introduced Eilis, “This is Eilis, from Ireland,” hello’s and howdy’s around the circle. Then me, “And this is Kat, from America.” I swear I’m not lying, there was a collective groan amongst the group!!  The first face to face bad press I’ve really gotten for being American in New Zealand!  We started off on our walk at the slowest pace imaginable and Stan was like a sheep dog herding everyone together and telling everyone to stay close.  We got to the beach section that was really beautiful flat brown sand with a great view of the sea. As we kept going, we started to ‘mosey’ down the beach just enjoying the day, and Stan got worried that I was getting tired and couldn’t keep up. Hmm…  We started climbing over rocks and boulders along the shore and half way along, Stan comments that I’m doing a great job!  I was really starting to get irritated with this guy so I sarcastically ask him if he was worried I couldn’t manage? No straight answer, just a lot of bluster.  Some American that had joined them before must have really screwed up.   Hours later after walking for what seemed forever on a rocky beach we finally made it to Stan’s bach (cabin, cottage, summer home) and his wife gave us coffee and fresh scones.  Later in the walk I finally managed to convince Stan that I wasn’t pathetic and Eilis and I chatted with him about how we play music. Back at his house, instead of paying our walking fee, he actually asked if we would play a few tunes for the group. A great end to what could have been a very walk.

On the way back we stopped at Barrie and Kath’s place, Barrie is the accordion player from the session, just to say hello, and we ended up invited in for a beer and dinner. We started talking music and it was 10pm before we left and headed back to Christchurch, and me back to Ashburton.

The next week was Cup Day on Tuesday and Charlotte, one of our receptionists, and I had been planning to go up to the races for the day.  Cup Day is thoroughbred racing and supposedly a fancy event, where everyone dresses up to the nine’s and wears hats.  Not wanting to splurge too much I found a $4 hat at the Coin Save shop that looked like a bad Easter bonnet. When we finally got there after I stupidly left my wallet at home, we parked up and walked into our fancy event. Even on the walk in there were so many early 20’s drunks walking in trying to hide their remaining alcohol under their fancy dresses that I started to get worried.  Just inside the gate, we got a few beers and walked out to the lawns in front of the track to watch the races. We were a few races late from the beginning and there was already trash everywhere, drunk 18-25’s stumbling around so you had to watch your fingers so they didn’t get stepped on.  BUT we placed our bet’s on a few races and with my landlord Ross’s advice for Monkey King to win, I made $25!!!  After the races finished Craig from work found us and gave us a ride back into town. It was a Tuesday night and the Irish session was on but I forgot that the car park where I parked my car locks at 8pm, so my fiddle was locked away. We stopped in anyway for a drink and Patty let me play a few tunes on her fiddle. 

The Christchurch Show Day was the following weekend so Eilis and I met up there and walked around the day watching the show jumping, wood chopping, sheep shearing, and being a sweltering day with the sun out, we even stopped for ice cream and a mushroom sandwich… yeah never had a mushroom sandwich and likely won’t again. It was very similar to our county fairs in the US, just no tractor pulls or demolition derby!  

Log 17: Tramps, Cows, and Johnny Possums...

A few more weekends went by of work and I headed off on a tramp by myself. I was ready to test my abilities and my gear and needed some time just to myself I think. I headed up the Ryalite Ridge track to the Woolshed Creek Hut, which is behind Mt. Somers. It was a pretty windy but clear day with a mild Norwester blowing, but it made for a very exciting trip of the ridge. It was just me and my headphones and some great tunes and just as I topped the ridge to view the far off glaciers A Big Old Sun from the Into the Wild soundtrack started playing and I had a moment with the mountains. Oh, and an apple. I stopped at the Woolshed Creek hut for some lunch and cup of tea, then headed back along the Miner’s track determined to memorize the lyrics for the 2 songs I had to sing as the lead vocal with the Possum’s.  Never being much of a singer, and always hearing the tune first and not the words of a song, I have always found it hard to remember words. People that can come up with songs they haven’t sung in YEARS and remember all the lyrics get lots of respect in my book. By the time I reached Merino in the car park I think had them down, only have scared 2 runners that I passed along the way!

Having gone by myself, Amy and Alex from work were my emergency crew. They had invited me over for dinner so that if I didn’t make it around or they didn’t hear from me they would come looking for me along the trail somewhere. Its always good to have people looking out for you!!

Cow stuff: Beware!

It was around this time that calving was slowing down but metrichecking was in full swing. This is a little metal rod with a rubber end that is used to check if a cow is ‘dirty’ or has subclinical infections in her uterus after calving. We do this prior to mating season starts to make sure they are ready to get pregnant when it all starts.  One day we had 1000 cows scheduled to check in the afternoon and I also had a Possum rehearsal scheduled that evening. By the time we finished at 5:45pm, there was no way I was going to make it to Christchurch for any kind of productive practice so I had to call the guys and cancel. Being the city boys they are they found it extremely funny but strange at the same time that I had this particular set-back. Somehow I knew it would come back to haunt me. 

After a few months of practicing and getting me up to speed, it was finally time for our first real gig together at the Harbour Light Theater in Lyttleton, just outside Christchurch. The boys and their other fiddler had played there multiple times but it was going to be my first liver performance as well as my first time playing with a plugged in fiddle. A guy I knew from one of the sessions is a local luthier and I purchased an L.R. Baggs fiddle pick-up from the US (saved $150 by getting online and shipped rather than from NZ) and had him set it up.  I had never played on a pick-up before so I was a bit unused to how I would sound through the mic as well as hearing myself through the monitor speakers.  Sound check went well, they guys knowing much more about how to tweak their instruments and telling Russel, the sound guy what he needed, but after 60min of Bryz talking megahertz and frequencies I had pretty much lost the plot and didn’t know what was going on.  All I knew was that I could hear my fiddle through the monitor and it sounded cool with that electric sound and a great bass end… gotta love some good bass end.  

The time finally came to start the show and we all toasted to a great gig in the back with some Old Crow Whiskey… not too much to hinder us but just enough to take the edge off.  We started off well, I was a bit nervous singing but made it through with only a few lyrical adjustments!  At the intermission we had a few more sips of the ol’ whiskey and headed back to the stage, but I think we had more whiskey than we realized and the boys had more than I did, especially Keith. The second half was more relaxed, and when we sang our song ‘Whiskey in my Whiskey’ we couldn’t have sung anything more true. At one point, I started off a tune in the wrong key, Keith sand an entire song repeating one verse through the whole thing, while we all just trying to vamp through it and figure out where he was… seeing no end to his confusion, somehow we just ended it, had a laugh with the audience and started over with a new song.  It was still a great show over all, I made a few hundred bucks, but that wasn’t really important. It was just a BLAST making music with people again and playing for an audience. It is such an adrenaline rush, and you end with an amazing high. Who needs drugs when you have music!!

I stayed at Sean’s place that night in beautiful Sumner, and arriving in the dark I had no idea what was in store for me in the morning. I woke up to the sound of waves crashing on the shore, and a huge picture window view of Taylor’s Mistake beach in the port hills.  They treated me to some great coffee and breakfast in the morning before we debriefed on the gig.  I spent the day lazing around Christchurch running some errands and caught a film at one of the theaters. I met Craig from work, and his buddies at a bar north of town that was supposedly having an Oktoberfest party with German food and beer. It turned out to be more of a young 20’s meat market drunk fest, while watching V8 racing on TV and having to wait 20min to get served a beer at the bar.  I had a drink and a BBQ sandwich that didn’t taste too German and promptly left. With the stress of the gig over, I planned on totally vegging out with a movie and some couch time.

As a bit of a side story, the next week I had my most rewarding calving of the season and probably my career thus far, just because of the events surrounding it. As a vet working for farms, we’re usually only called when things are going poorly, rightly so as we have the knowledge and the tools to make the final decision if need be or at least make the process more bearable for all parties involved. That usually means that in the end we don’t get a live calf a high percentage of the time, and there’s usually lots of care needed for the mother afterward.  I was called out to this woman’s farm, a small mostly beef cattle farm that pretty much picks up stray or unwanted cattle and raises them for whatever potential they might achieve.  The call was for a jersey heifer that gotten bred by accident as a 5mo old calf, ‘an oops’ breeding.  This happens in the animal world with intact bulls running around and it can end in tears if there is too much of a size difference. The woman was distraught and worried a c-section was going to be needed, but I thought we’d just give her the benefit of the doubt and just see how things went. 20min later with some gently pulling with just my hands and letting Mom help us, we delivered a tiny little jersey heifer calf that was quiet happy and Mom was too. The woman teary eyed, gave me a big hug and was so thankful for the good result as well as my gentleness. Weeks later I was back to look at an unrelated case and got to see the wee little calf running around nursing off her teenage mother, both happy as.  Those are the cases that can really make your day, even though it was as simple as pulling a calf by hand without the aid of my drugs or mechanical intervention. 

The next weekend I wanted to go for another tramp so I started recruiting people, Jane another vet from work and her cousin Ross decided to come with me and we went up Little Mt. Peel along the south ridge during a very warm but very windy Norwester. The track takes about 3 hrs., is very steep and very exposed with little tree coverage for but it was a great climb and was appreciated our lunch and chocolate at the shelter on top before heading back down the Deer spur track. On our way back we stopped at the Tinwald tavern for a drink before they took me home. Was a great day out.  Just about down off the mountain, Amy and Alex called to see where I was and if I could pick them up from the bus station. Their van’s battery had died about 3 hours north of Christchurch while they were out tramping. They had been rescued by a man who took them as far as Kaiapoi where they bought a car battery, but not being able to connect it they bused it back to Ashburton. Poor old Gordon the van, he’s been through a lot this year.

The end of October Barrie, the accordion player from the Irish session that had adopted Eilis and I, told us about a festival in Cardrona, a little skiing village north of Queenstown. It was mostly a singer/songwriter festival but they were saying they needed some musicians so we tagged along. I had to wait till work was over to start driving so Eilis met me in Timaru where we parked and had supper with one of her friends and then headed to Cardrona arriving at 1am.  Barrie was bringing us a tent to sleep in so upon arriving we asked the festival goers that were still going strong if they knew Barrie and if they knew anything about a tent set up for two girls arriving late.  A bad choice of words, as we immediately had 3 offers to sleep in some of the mens tents that were staggering around the place. A woman came up to us and mentioned there was a tent that had a sign-post with a little flashing bike light, could that be it? Sure enough Barrie had manufactured us a sign along with our tent and we topped it off with an Irish flag on top that Eilis had brought. We quickly realized the next day that were just about the youngest people there by about 25-40 years besides some of the folkies that had brought their children, and that it was indeed a very folkie, folk festival. I’d say about a third of the people there were permanent ‘campervan’ people, that live in campervans, moving from place to place or just on one of the numerous lakes around NZ. Basically gypsies.  Very nice people, but a bit odd at the same time, one old timer with lots of army surplus gear and clothing kept chatting to us about the evils of government, manufacturing, and farming while I had to bite my tongue and keep quite most of the time, knowing arguing with the man was futile and wasn’t going to change his mind.  Barrie, Eilis and I stole away a  few times during the festival to play tunes together and put a set of tunes together for the final concert that is made up of people from the festival showcasing their songs.  We had a blast anyway, and it was very relaxing just to camp and chill.   They had a poetry reading session that was absolutely hilarious, as most of them were comedic, and the evening concerts showcased the main acts that had been invited. Eric Bogle, a well known Scottish singer/songwriter now living in Australia, and an amazing guitar player named Graham that just blew me away with his playing. 

It was also about this time when poor Merino’s engine started to make noise. I took her in to see Gary, the mechanic the vet clinic uses, and he gave me the bad news that a head gasket was going and that the radiator was also plugged up tight, which likely contributed to the engine crapping out. So I was at the festival Merino was in the shop getting some well deserved TLC and it came at the bargain price of $1400. Ouch, but it had to be done. Only a few more months to go!

tramp to Woolshed Creek hut

LAMBS!!!!

The Johnny Possum Band!

Log 16: Kelly's Visit!

Lake Gunn, Mirror lakes.... amazing even in the rain

Kelly and I on the Kepler Track

Mackenzie country...currently unspoiled by cows. Future uncertain.

In the aftermath of the earthquake, my friend Kelly came to visit! She was in my class in vet school, and has since been doing a variety of jobs like me for the past 3 years, equine work, small animal, and now teaching.   Having purchased her tickets weeks before the quake, we weren’t sure if the airport would be open but as fate would have it, everything worked out and she arrived safely.  She arrived and after a sleep and some food at my place we headed off tiki touring around the south island. I tried to take a different route than with Kate, and since Kelly wasn’t up to driving my manual car on the other side of the road I was the tour guide and needed some new scenery!  We headed  out to Lake Tekapo and woke up to the mountains and lake there, couldn’t have asked for a better scene to wake up to. After some coffee and breakfast at the hostel, we drove to Te Anau, stopping at some wineries and even a cheesery in Cromwell on the way. I must say that the cheese we tasted was amazing, apart from the strong goat cheese that tasted so much of old goat that I was burping goat alllll day.  What better to wash down old goat than more wine right?

In Te Anau, we went on a little boat tour to the glowworm caves in the sounds of fjordland.  You go at night, when you can see the illuminations of the worms on the cave walls. As a kid I had a glowworm toy that was a cute little plastic bulb with a hollow end that would glow after you set it near the light for a time. It had all sorts of accessories and a cartoon that was on TV to go with it. Not the case with REAL glowworms. They are little larvae of a fly that illuminate their bums to attract other flies to eat or if another glowworm gets to close they will cannibalize it for their own need to metamorphosize. There is a 90% mortality rate amongst glowworms, they get eaten by other glowworms, or newly hatched from their molt they are eaten by another glowworm, or before they can lay their own little glowworm eggs they are eaten by another glowworm since it is technically a ‘fly’ at this stage.  BUT they are cool to see in the ditch dark cave, floating on a little river in a boat with a tour guide that tells you the story of the glowworms.

The next morning we met up with Eilis, as she was down visiting friends in Te Anau and was at the same time escaping the horrors of the earthquakes. She lives right in the suburbs of Christchurch and the 10 or so aftershocks a day they were getting was just driving her a bit mad.  And to be honest, I wouldn’t need too much of an excuse to break from the city and go to Te Anau and Fjordland because it is truly a stunning place.  We decided to hike up part of the Kepler track to the tree line to get some views of Lake Te Anau and the other mountains of fjordland. I think we underestimated the mountain and overestimated our abilities for the 14km all uphill climb and after some good mental pushing we finally made it to the top for an amazing view of Mt. Luxmore.

Later we met up with Eilis and some of her friends for a cheeky jam session, flute, fiddle, guitar and singer, and another whistle player. A few beers with some locals looking on and a few pictures from the tourists and we called it a night.

The next day we had a beautiful day and drove up to Milford sound and on the way stopped at Lake Gunn, with the mountains mirrored in the lake water, and also to the Chasm, a large gorge dug into the soft boulders from glacier melt.  We boarded a boat that took us for a cruise along the sounds out to the Tasman sea, not a drop of rain either, which is strange for Fjordland.

The next day it was time to head back to Ashburton so the long drive through Queenstown and Lake Tekapo was started. We stayed the night in Queenstown, hostelling in the city center then drove through Tekapo and stopped at the Mt. John Observatory. The Observatory is on top of hill in the middle of the Mackenzie basin that is surrounded by mountains so the view from the top is pretty spectacular, specially this time of year with the snow still capping most of the peaks. After two more days of work it was time to say goodbye to Kelly, but we saw a big part of the south island in the short time she was able to come. 

Log 15: The End of Calving season and Earthquakes!!

With calving season calming down it was now time to jump into mating season to get the cows pregnant for the next season. I had 12 or so farms assigned to me to take care of so I started going out to have meetings to chat about their plan to getting the cows pregnant.  This was a harder task than I imagined. Yes, we have a tight timeline in the US, but getting 1500 cows pregnant in 12 weeks can be a daunting task with 7 employees. We would talk about the plan for AI, mating programs for the cows that weren’t cycling, managing of the bulls for clean-up at the end, and anything else they were concerned about. I was scared stiff because with each new season brought a new set of terms and management practices I had no clue about.  So its safe to say, I asked a lot of questions, did a lot of reading, and generally bull-shitted my way through the season. I don’t think I did half bad to be honest and the vets and farmers were very good about answering my seemingly stupid questions and were quite understanding when I was up front and told them I was new to this, or said, ‘well in the US, we’d do this, but here…” Some of them were actually receptive to some of my crazy North American ideas but for the most part we stuck to the Kiwi way of the world.

The middle of calving season was one of my last busy weekends on call and what a weekend it turned out to be.  I was woken up at 4:35am Saturday morning because my bed was shaking back and forth, there was a great rumbling sound outside, and the dishes in my sink rattling.  We were having an earthquake! A 7.1 magnitude earthquake. Coming from the mid-west we don’t get earthquakes but I’d heard about them from California friends, and I knew the New Zealand had 100’s of small ones a year. But I wasn’t prepared for this kind of ‘a little one.’ The shaking went on for about a minute and then everything stilled. I slowly got out of bed and checked what I could but being the middle of the night there wasn’t much to see. I attempted going back to sleep but I was woken 15min later with a call for a calving. So up I got and a few minutes later Barb came running out to check that I was all right, surprised to see me dressed.  I had no idea what the road conditions were and the news hadn’t made it to the television yet obviously, but I ventured out to find everything intact along my route.  Arriving at Ernst’s place, I asked how the cow’s had dealt with the California foot massage? I don’t think he had found it very funny but I was trying to lighten the mood since he seemed a bit stressed.  We calved live twin heifer calves from the cow and at least that brought a smile to his face. 

I had another call after that one, and finally made it home about 7:30 to find the news still hadn’t reported anything. But I soon found out via internet that Christchurch was a bit of a mess. Roads, cracked, buildings falling down, liquefaction of the sandy soil in some places and 100’s of people heading towards the Port Hills in case of a tsunami.  Being an inland quake, there was no tsunami except in people’s pools and ponds.  Damage to Ashburton was nil, just a few cracks in some of the dairy sheds, but near the epicenter some of the hedgerows had moved several feet, there were cracks through paddocks, and one of the roads had a section move over a few feet.  Ross came home from milking and told us he had been half way through milking when the quake hit and the cows had done well besides sh**ting everywhere and he watched the walls and pipes weave around like snakes. Other people told me that cows that were walking to the sheds had simply laid down on the track waiting for the quake to finish. 

Since then there have been hundreds of aftershocks, some small rumblings, and some larger ones that did more damage but on a whole, everywhere besides Darfield where the epicenter was and Christchurch was just fine.  People were still just a bit freaked out and understandably. It will take years for people to recover the damages and get everything back in working order.

On Sunday of my weekend was also the day I had 3 calvings at one farm. To be honest they were quite easy, but the guys were incredibly tired from the 900 cows they had already calved, on top of fresh cows and milking, and the earthquake for that matter. Now Craig at Woodland farms is a force to be reckoned with, the manager, a hilarious man, and it doesn’t take him long to take the piss out of you for something you said. But you will always be laughing when he does, or blushing. Craig is also a common visitor to the vet clinic, or drugs and supplies, for a coffee, or just plain banter and a story or two. Poor Amy had a miserable calving at this farm where after 3 hours it was decided to give up, but the next day Amy went back, determined to get the calf out, and she did. Craig also has a habit of writing poems about people so after Amy’s incredible feat, in came Craig to the clinic with a newly composed poem of her misadventure.

So when I got the call to come out to Woodlands, I was a bit worried that I was going to meet with disaster as well, knowing that these guys are on the top of their game and don’t just call for anything.  After pulling the first one in a record time of 7min, they motioned me over to another. My helper had to run off to get some metabolic to the give the first cow and in the mean time I managed the pull the second one out with my bare hands. Having decided I was the luckiest darn vet in the world, when Craig and the worker finally arrived back to ‘assist’ me I opened up the top of my coveralls to reveal the superman logo on the fleece I was wearing.  No sooner had I cleaned up, had some lunch and a short nap, Craig called again for another calving. I was resigned to the fact that this was going to be the ‘big’ on so with renewed ambition I headed out there and after some pulling with the calving ropes this one popped out as well.  Craig, looking very tired and a bit embarrassed said he just hadn’t been sure about this one and didn’t want to hurt the cow. After a few bad ones everyone gets a little gun-shy and mostly they just want reassurance they are approaching these the right way.  No worries, mate. Happy to help, that’s what we’re there for. 

Log 14: The end of winter and REAL MUSIC AT LAST!!!

I’ll start with a wee bit of cow stuff and then move on. As I’ve probably said before, dairy farming in New Zealand is seasonal. Meaning they calve once a year, then milk for about 300 days then have 2 months of dry time where there is no milking during the winter so the cows can prepare for the next season.  Even though the winter or dry season was slow, we found plenty to do with talks for the farmers and workers, talks for the vets on continuing education, and the various ailments of cows eating kale, and fodder beat. During the winter here, because the grass doesn’t grow very much they plant ‘crop’ during the summer months usually kale, yes very similar to the plant we grow to make salads from, but a tiny bit bigger. Most off the crop that I wadded through to see a sick cow was at least to my shoulder some guys would tell me it was over their heads.  Lots of dry matter for feed and the cows generally like to eat it.  They eat the leaves as well as the stalk to about 2 feet off the ground and the rest gets ‘pugged’ or stomped into the ground. It’s a very low energy feed as well as moderately high in fiber, essential for the dry cow that’s not milking and just growing a baby inside.  They are also given as much straw as they can eat before they go onto the kale, because the silly things will gorge on the kale, and bloat or get indigestion. Fodder beat, or sugar beet to the American’s, is a very low fiber HIGH energy feed but it to grows really well and produces a lot of crop.  Its like our bulbous sugar beet except the bulb gets much bigger as they let it grow for longer, the largest I saw was 2 ft across but others farmers had described larger ones to me. The problem with this feed is that its very high in energy (sugar, hence why we make sugar from it) and not very high in fiber.  The sugar in fodder beat is digested into energy too quickly by the rumen bugs and causes the cow to bloat and get acidosis, basically a drunk cow, and can lead to death. So ladies and gentleman, just proves that too much sugar is a bad thing! Its not just cavities we’re talking about! 

Right, onto calving season. So July 15^th marks the first official day of calving season! The herds closer to the sea calve a few weeks earlier than the herds closer to the mountains because it’s a bit warmer near the sea as we start calving technically in winter.  New Zealand doesn’t hit spring and the first flush of grass till about September, but they want to synchronize the peak milk of the cows (about 60-90days after calving) with that flush of grass, so hence the reason the mild winter climate here is ideal for cows calving. Since our practice area consisted of 150,000 cows, we were on call basically for 150,000 possible problems. Well, that’s being a bit exaggerative, I was quite impressed with the Kiwi farmers and workings calving skills. They are kind of forced to be as their entire herd 500-1500 cows are calving all at one time.  During the obligatory chit chat when the vet arrives on the farm I would hear the calving counts for the day, “we had 100 calves on the ground this morning,” or how many in the herd yet to calve, “Only 600 more to go…” You can’t call the vet all the time.  So instead, as with all my jobs thus far, we care called when things go really really wrong.  Usually the calf would be dead after the workers had been attempting to the calve the cow first, or the calf was found to be too big or in a very odd position we we’d be called out to help. Understandably, in the chaos of that many cows calving at one time, something things get missed and we’d be called out to assist with a ‘dead rotten,’ one that the calf had died and it was starting to bloat up inside the cow or she was starting to get sick from having the calf still in her. 

During my first season, even with the rotation of vets being much better than I’m used to for on call, in 3 months, I did 51 calvings that counted.  To keep up moral and a tiny bit of competition between us, the vets keep a calving tally. Most calvings in a 24hr period, most calvings done on a weekend on-call, and total number of calvings.  I think I only won for most calvings in a 24 hr period (7), Amy won overall but I’m not sure our boss ever got around to giving her a prize for that. But for a calving to ‘count’ the cow had to be alive when you left the farm, and the whole calf had to come out. Yes, there are times when after hours of working on a cow, you are fagged out, the worker helping you has fagged out, and you’ve called for help, and you still haven’t been successful.  I kept a tally of my non-successes so I had 62 total calvings but 11 were unsuccessful. Even with 8 ceasarean’s for the season I still had 11 that were deemed impossible and for humane reasons we’d euthanize the cow. 

I can tell you that my overall impression was, Holy Pete, I’ve never washed my calving gear SO much in one day! I became bloody efficient at it though, and the great luxury of working with dairy cows vs beef - there is almost ALWAYS hot water in the milking shed, and if not warm there was always water present. I still carried the emergency 5L jug of water for those times where it was scarce and to make yourself presentable enough to get back in your truck it was needed.

Back into NZ culture:

On the nights we weren’t on call, and the weekends we weren’t working, we tried to use the time to completely get away from our work.  Speaking of, I joined the bluegrass band called the Johnny Possum’s!!  Couldn’t have been worse timing, now that the busy season was upon us, but once a week I started driving up to Christchurch to rehearse with the Possum’s in preparation for a gig at the Harbour Light Theater in Lyttleton.  The band consists of our devout leader and banjo player/songwriter, Sean; mandolin player and singer, Bryz; guitar player and singer/songwriter, Keith; and bass player Johnno.  Oh and me I guess, fiddle player and apparently back-up singer.  So its 5 middle aged married guys and me! Most of you know that I play the fiddle, and most of you should know that singing in public or in front of anyone has been mentally forbidden. Somehow when asked if I’d sing back-up vocals, there was only a brief moment of internal panic before I calmly said, yeah sure I’ll give it a go. WHAT!?!?  I could scarcely believe those words had come out of my mouth!  By the next practice they asked if I’d want to sing a solo song, again after the brief moment of internal panic I found myself saying, yeah sure I’ll give it a go. !!!!!!!  I had never really sang before so I decided to get a few lessons for someone to validate that I could actually carry a tune. Ironically, the lady I found was an opera singer that lived in Ashburton when not singing in Christchurch, that works on a dairy farm with her partner, that uses Vetlife for a vet, AND that farm has been assigned to ME. Figure THAT one out! It was destiny I guess.  I apparently have a great range and with a little practice and some self confidence I’ll be a great singer.  Never saw that one coming.

About this time, Johnno from the band, who also dabbles in Irish and folk music, told me about another session of great players in Christchurch. They meet on Tuesday nights every other week. He put me in touch with the lady that runs the e-mail notifications so the following week I showed up at the Irishman and was BLOWN away by the caliber of players and the friendly people. I was quickly inducted into the group and looked forward to many more nights of tunes with these guys. I also was re-introduced to an Irish flute player, Eilis, that I had met at the Nelson festival in June.  We ended up meeting for lunch one day and headed off into little ally’s exploring Christchurch together. She had been in New Zealand for about a year but had been working in Te Anau in the hospitality industry. She had decided to stay here for a bit as the job market in Ireland was rock bottom, and found a ‘proper’ job as she called it at an engineering firm in town as a civil engineer.   On weekends I had nothing planned I’d head into Christchurch and we’d get together and make supper and play some tunes. I’d teach her some and she’d teach me some, it was great! 

I guess it was also about this time when I realized I had a wee mouse living in my couch. I live in a sleep-out which is a 12 x 12 room on the back of Barb and Ross’s garage with a bathroom and a little cabinet for a kitchen, and a stove out in the garage to cook on. As the winter got colder I assumed I’d have a few visitors make their way under the door into my room.  That’s fine, a few bugs and a few mice, that’s life.  I had been hearing something nibbling on my couch while I sat reading in the evenings but he wasn’t worrying me too much. What I did NOT count on was waking up at 4am feeling a little fuzzy animal crawling around my feet IN MY BED!!!!  Ohhhh no you don’t. Amy and Alex had inherited a mouse trap with the campervan they purchased from the backpacker lot, so I borrowed that and set about trying to trap this little thing. I did have some concerns that the 1 wee mouse was going to turn into 20 more mice though through the process nature taking its course. After a week of feeding this thing heaps of cheese and watching its turds get bigger and bigger with its good diet, I had had enough. One night while reading I saw some flitting around the wall and low and behold the little mousy was on the move. Stupidly it ran into my closet where the door is flush with the carpet.  I armed myself with shoes and some sandels on my hands for squashing, and locked myself in the closet. After a few rounds going around the closet, it jumping in the air and running the other way, it finally went behind the little dresser and with a little ‘clunk’ against the wall, that was the end of that mouse.  Ollie and Bonnie the cats were happy to take care of that for me.

No more chewing and no more mice in the bed but a few weeks later another scurrying beast ran past my eyesight. He ran along the wall and behind my fiddle case, a swift clunk of the case just pissed him off and he lept back across the room to run under the fridge. He bit later in the evening he made an escape into the closet where he met his demise behind the dresser as well. 

P.S. Because I've gotten so behind, I'm writing this during my trip to Asia and current the Bandwidth in Bali doesn't agree with uploading photos but I will add them ASAP!!  Thanks for the patience guys!

Log 13: Kate came to Kiwiland!!!

Eating snow at Castle Hill

Queen of Castle Hill

Kate with a possum in her ear

Pre-Dive

Art beach prior to the sand fly incident

The reason for the sandfly incident...

Pancake Rocks

Swing bridge near Blenheim

Sea kayaking in Abel Tasman

Log 13

My next entry was reserved for my good friend Kate that came to visit me during our ‘winter’.  I found out about a month before that she was heading over and I could barely contain my excitement!  About 8 years ago, Kate was one of three roommates that I lived with during my study abroad in Ireland and has continued to be a partner in adventurous crime ever since!!

Kate walked out of the International terminal looking bright and cheery and only slightly cross-eyed from the 24 hours of travel to get to New Zealand with its many connections. Trying to optimize Kate’s time in NZ we headed over the Antarctic center just kitty corner from the airport round-about and headed into ‘experience’ the Antarctic.  After the winter room that gets down to a big -20C (big deal after Wisconsin, really) and where we slid down the ice slide, we viewed the preserved critters and plants that come from the pole, then visited the rescued Fairy penguins with various orthopedic ailments.  My favorite part was the chart on the wall that explained their handicaps using their color coded leg bands for identification. I took her into the city center to see the Haka dancers and the open air market before heading down to Ashburton for a long awaited nap, hot shower, and dinner with friends. 

The next day we headed to Mt. Somers and did the Sharplin Falls walk and went on to Castle Hill, near Arthur’s Pass.  Now understanding that Kate and I together are really just oversized children is should come to no surprise that with the bit of snow on the ground and it being ‘winter’ in NZ, we had to have a snowball fight as well as attempt to climb a tree on the way to Castle Hill.  We also made video logs documenting Kate getting lost in the New Zealand tundra… maybe ya just had to be there but it was real funny! 

Our next destination was Dunedin…. Oo Dunedin.  After the trip down the coast making Hobbiton and Lord of the Rings jokes, we climbed on the Moeraki boulders and collected shells, before heading into the city of Dunedin. Once there we took a tour of the Cadbury Chocolate factory then headed out on the town for a few beers, dinner at an Indian restaurant, and then out for more beers in an Irish Pub. It was quite early, since Dunedin is a college town and the students don’t emerge till 11pm, we were 2 of 6 people in the pub. As it so happens, there were 3 Irish lads having a few pints after work and somehow we ended up chatting with them and partaking in free pints. 

This was the night we learned of the funniest job we have EVER heard of!!  The lads were telling us how they had just been hired by a conservation group to go to the airport runways near the coast and pick up penguins, because ya see these penguins like to watch the airplanes fly over their heads and having to look straight up makes them fall over and they can’t stand up again without help. So for some amount of $/hour they were going to start doing this a few days a week.  Picking up penguins as a profession.  By the next morning and hours of letting the alcohol metabolize, we were both convinced it was a made-up story from the ‘Gift of Gab’ Irish, but it didn’t stop us from pissing ourselves laughing re-telling the story and doing the action associated with the telling of the story.  I can’t resist a good story, even a made up one.

The next day we drove to Te Anau on our way to Milford Sound.  We stopped at the wildlife reserve and viewed the strange birds that inhabit New Zealand. Kea, weka, takahe, wood pigeons, kaka, and many more…   We stopped at the movie theater and watched the Fjordlands video that took you on a musical helicopter piloted journey over the fjords and sounds that was amazing. Now, being winter, and non-tourist season in Te Anau, EVERYTHING is shut down! A few restaurants staying open but don’t physically open till 5:30 and when they did open, we were literally the only customers at the Chinese restaurant. But, since were the only patrons, the space heater pointed at OUR table so our plates no longer had frost on them.  There is no central heating in New Zealand, as it doesn’t really freeze I suppose they don’t really need them, but it does get chilly enough to warrant heating so there are ‘heat pump’ units on the walls of rooms, space heaters, fire places and stoves. 

We headed up the Milford Rd towards Milford sound, and stopped at Lake Gunn when it started to sprinkle with rain. It only added to the ambiance of the place though and we thoroughly enjoyed the view and the stillness of the lake with the mountains mirrored in it.  At one point we stopped and did a short walk through the rainforest vegetation acting like hobbits and Lord of the Rings characters just because we could. Then realizing it was the 4^th of July, we came out of the bush forest singing patriotic songs like America the Beautiful, and saying the Pledge of Allegiance.  

We made it to Queenstown and decided to head out for a drink with the ski bums that were packed into the small town.  We went into the world bar where a Brazilian guy kept asking to dance with me. Now, normally I’m game, dancing is good fun and hey the South American’s HAVE rhythm. This particular Brazilian just happened to be about 4.5 ft tall… his eyes were at an inconvenient level for close dancing and when I kept running to the toilet every 10 min to try and get away from his attentions he turned to Kate and said, “I theenk your friend no like me, she keep running away.”  Sorry bub. 

Upon Kate’s arrival in New Zealand I informed her that I thought we should give skydiving a go and that she was going to go with me. I expected her complete refusal but to my great surprise and relief she said it actually sounded fun!  I had been throwing the idea around to try skydiving for a few years and my new adrenaline charged ambition that brought me to New Zealand was ready to give it the green light!  We called and booked the spots and started preparing ourselves to jump out of a plane!  They dressed us in flight suits, and clear goggles and gave us the run-down of how it would work as well as informing us of the price.   Ugh, that was the only depressing bit. BUT as the dutiful tourists says, “When will I ever do THIS again!?” So up we went to the highest jump of 15,000 ft for a mean $525 dollars. Hands down the most expensive DVD I’ve ever purchased. I was an un-paid actress in the lead role, but it was still one of the most amazing experiences that I’ve ever done to date.  After my last encounter with a Brazilian, I was relieved that the Brazilian I was strapped to for my tandem jump was about 6’8” and 250lbs. There’s really no refusing to do anything when you are strapped to a guy like that and he’s loading you in a plane that he WILL be jumping out of. Better to sit back, relax, and go with the flow. As the plane ascended and we marveled as the snow capped mountains that surrounded us, we kept trying to push our buttons and make us nervous. Kate was looking a little bit more worried the higher we got, but I’m pretty sure my smile just kept getting bigger and bigger.  The first 4 teams jumped, Kate and her dude dropped, and then it was my turn. You put your feet under the plane and head back with your arms across your chest, and then all of a sudden you are falling with a 250lb Brazilian on your back! Cheeks and nostrils flaring as in the cartoons, we dropped for a few seconds till I was ordered to put my arms out in the fall position, “Like wings!” he kept yelling.   So then we were falling with arms out like a bird,  watching the landscape fly by and the thunder of the wind wizzing past my ears.  5,000ft later the parachute comes out and we started our descent to the ground and we got a way better view of the south island, sea to sea.  You also hang in your harness like a wee baby, or if you know the cartoon, Bucky from Get Fuzzy in his harness on the way to the vet. There’s something about that type of harness that you feel completely incapacitated.  Nearing the ground, with legs extended I was stopped by the friction of my butt sliding along the ground, after which I leapt up and attempted a victory dance with my very numb limbs that had previously been hanging in a harness. Flippin amazing!!!!  Everyone should do this.

Now just down the road, was Puzzling World, which we had been reading in our guide book.  Optical illusions, and a real life labyrinth, we had to stop in.  It might have been cool, but the adrenaline rush from the skydiving was a little more amazing than anything a labyrinth could have evoked. Plus 4 buses of screaming school kids showed up and we definitely had lost our patience for that.

Heading up to the illustrious West Coast of New Zealand next, we fully expected to hit the wall of rain that is usually always present in this part of NZ.  Luckily we only had a few patches of drizzle, and being winter it was probably the drier season for the west coast anyway.  The climate and vegetation is rainforest like there is a visual change in the trees and the size of the ferns and bush as you pass INTO the west coast. Our most important adventure and challenge of the west coast was undoubtedly the sand flies.  So a sand fly to my North American readers is reminiscent of a knat, very small, can’t hear them coming, and generally a flying annoyance. But don’t be fooled by their small appearance, unlike the knat, they have a nasty bite and they go after knuckles, joints, and limbs with big vessels. The worst part is that you don’t feel them right away like a mosquito, it’s the next day that you realize you’ve been bitten and you start itching like a mad person.  To the point of broken blood vessels and bruising in my case cuz I can’t just leave them alone like those with more will power. I had literally just finished telling Kate the sand fly warning when we encountered our first hoard of them.

Along the coast we had stopped to see the beach and the polished white stones and beach wood that the many passing tourists had created into art all along the beach. People had stopped and stacked the stones and drift wood into abstract designs as well as write on the smooth white rocks something of their adventures, or where they were from. Being more interested in viewing the art and not remembering the invisible sand flies we forgot to shut the car door. Upon returning to the car and climbing in we were greeted by no less than 1000 of this horrid little bugs primed and ready to feet on their new trapped prey.  Kate freaks out and immediately covers herself with scarves and coats and sunglasses while simultaneously swatting the midgets with the maps. We rolled down windows and shooed them out while driving, we even stopped and opened the back hatch then continued driving for a bit.  By the time we reached the next petrol station the inside windows were covered in little sandfly skeletons and their body juices. We purchased some window cleaner and at least gave the station attendant a good laugh as we explained our story. True to form though, it was the next day when we realized how many of the little bastards had had their last meal. The most annoying was the one on top of my head.  Never comb a sandfly bite, it will itch for HOURS!

We continued our journey north, to the Franz Josef glacier, and the Fox glacier. We did a short walk up to the base of the glacier and learning many interesting facts about glaciers. As well as being warned that if some ice falls into the glacial river, it can cause a surge that will drown people and stick figures.

We also stopped at the Pancake Rocks, which are the striated rock formations that have formed with blow-holes from the sea and at high tide, you can stand out on the rocks and get really really wet!  

We reached Greymouth thinking it was the Christchurch of the west coast but quickly found out it too closes down after about 3pm even on a Saturday night. But as Kate and I were both fighting the flu, we were quite happy getting a pizza and going to bed.  Kate’s ear had also been plugged since our skydive and we decided that on the way down a possum had crawled in and set up camp.  By the time we reached Nelson we decided we ought to find her a doctor and find out if there was something medical to be done about getting the possum out of her middle ear. Since I hadn’t ever used the New Zealand medical system, that was an adventure in itself getting an appointment as a foreigner.  We came away from the doctor with all sorts of drugs for Kate, ones we have purchased attempting self medication, as well as prescription based healing. 

From Nelson we drove to Blenheim and did a self guided tour of the wine country. We stopped into several wineries and tasted the local specialty of Sauvignon blanc, as well as Pinot noir, Reislings, and many others that I can’t even spell let alone remember what they tasted like. I’m a Cabernet Sauvignon girl and over here that means I get Aussie wine. My taste only applies to the $6.99 to $8.99 wines on the bottom shelf though. 

Back to Nelson, we headed up to Abel Tasman National Park and hired sea kayaks for the day and went on a guided tour out on the sea to have lunch on the beach of Adele Island. Normally a summer sport, the sea kayaking also goes through the winter because Nelson is the warmest part of New Zealand year round because of its proximity to warm ocean currents or something like that. I still believe there is no way to accurately predict weather no matter what in this country. My fellow Michiganders, its even worst that Michigan! True!   We kayaked around, had our lunch, asked our kiwi adventure tourism guide if you can indeed get paid to pick up penguins at the airport, and shared many American tourist jokes. I think he gave us the ok that we weren’t the norm… YES! We’re starting to blend in!

Back down the coast we went, to Kaiakoura just north of Christchurch, that would bring us a complete circle from where we started. In Kaiakoura we stopped at a seal colony where we stood a few meters away from little fur seals and watched the pups playing in the trees just across the road. It was amazing to get that close to them. The pups were being weaned, the females getting their strength back, and the males just waiting for mating season to start.

Back in Christchurch we attempted to go to the famed Soul Square for drinks and dancing but never made it there. Our first stop was an Irish bar on Manchester street that some of the sessioners I knew were playing in a ballad band. By the time we had napped from our drive down and gone out the place was packed and we joined the fury.  Almost immediately I was cornered by a Pom (British dude) claiming to be the software engineer that created Grand Theft Auto and that he was a self made millionaire… riiiiight.  Being the ubber polite person I am, I sat and listened to him literally SCREAM his life story in my ear for an HOUR. All I recalled from the mind-numbing, most likely false story, is that he really needed a shower.  Kate was busy talking to a local rugby team that had come in, and I quickly played the social card and blew-off the computer geeks for the meat-heads and joined Kate in hopes that my ear would recover.  Turned out the coach was a sheep farmer out on the peninsula so I talked with him about farming for the rest of the evening! 

Finally back home to Ashburton the next day, we settled into my couch with some movies and Sharky’s fish and chips… best chip shop in town. A big serving of breaded fish and lots o chips for $3.60. 

We ended Kate’s time in New Zealand with a session at Bailies bar in Christchurch, where I met the guys from a Bluegrass band based in Chch called The Johnny Possum band. I chatted with them for a bit cuz they were looking for a new fiddle player. They guys in the session had told them I knew some bluegrass so I was hunted down for an audition. I haven’t played the stuff in years, but hey its MUSIC! Be bold, be daring. Go big, or go home. So I might be joining a Kiwi bluegrass band!!