A Sad Day

Yesterday was a miserable day, as days go they don't get much worse. I had to make the decision to take our dear old cat to the vet for her last time.

We had been struggling with the decision for some time now as she had slowly become more feeble and her health problems were getting to be more debilitating. It was so hard to decide when her quality of life was such that she needed to go. It was made all the harder by the fact that she could still purr and interact with us in her usual loving way.

Roxi came to our house 20 years ago as a kitten. She was our daughter's cat and introduced to our household when our daughter was 12 and adjusting to a new school, new friends, and the little cat seemed to know that she was special. We went and saw the litter when they were tiny and had just opened their eyes and S picked her then. We returned a few weeks later to bring her home. That was 20 years ago last month.

After all our children had left home Roxi missed them terribly, husband and I were not deemed to be interesting or lively company, good for providing food but that was all. So she began her wandering circuit of the neighbours.

She adopted the family across our drive who had three teenage daughters and made herself at home there during the day. She also adopted the people in the other house down our drive, an IHC home, and likewise they made her welcome.

When the family with teenagers shifted, another family with two teenagers arrived so she just switched her attention to them. Her nose was temporarily out of joint when they got a dog but the dog didn't stay for long and she was soon back enjoying the attention and parked in front of their fire in the winter. She would arrive at the same time each day, and like clockwork jump up and leave at the same time to return home.

Unfortunately we had to introduce another cat to the household which upset her a little in the last few years, However she mostly coped with this with her usual good humour

Inbetween her wanderings she still knew that this was her home and called by several times a day for food and attention. Until the last few months, although now stone deaf, she was healthy and fit.


Little Roxi, all you ever did in your life was dispense love and good humour to others, you will be missed sorely and remembered with love by the many humans whose lives you touched.

Today we are going to bury her in the garden in one of her sunny spots she liked to sleep.

Banker Helps Mother Duck and her Ducklings

Good to see some good news on the TV!

Winter Fruit

Here is some fruit that is ripe in New Zealand at the moment.








The red ones are Tamarillos, the green ones are Feijoas, there is a persimmon, and also a gold kiwifruit.

We have a Feijoa and a Tamarillo tree. Feijoas are prolific croppers and we tend to get a little tired of them by the end of the season. They are related to the Guava I think and taste a little similar.

Tamarillos have a taste all of their own. They were once known as Tree Tomatoes but dont share any characteristics of tomatoes other than their colour.

Persimmons are available around the world, and the gold Kiwifruit are becoming more widely known as the orchards reach maturity and they are exported to Europe and USA. They have a delicious honey/kiwifruit flavour and are my favourite.

An Annual Event

For those of you who have been following my blog for some time, I apologize for the repetition. The picking of our kiwifruit crop is of course an annual event, a big event in our lives, that can either be a pleasurable few days, or a disaster!

This year it was a very enjoyable four days work - beautiful weather, all went smoothly, and best of all it has been a bumper crop. A record crop really.

There is a great deal of nail biting as we juggle the uncertain autumn weather, the threat of frosts, and the availability of the picking gangs and packhouse schedules.

(Sorry the captions don't match the photos! I will be back later to try and fix the problem, it has defeated me for the moment)








Some photos taken during the weekend.





The fruit is given a 'pre picking' spray wash - a non toxic wash to clean up the fruit.



A view of the road leading down to the main part of the orchard.















A group of reject fruit - flats and fans, you will never see these on the shelves at the supermarket! This fruit is either given away or mulched.

One Crafty Animal!

However am I supposed to finish my knitting when I have a cat sitting on it!

My Latest Challenge

How do I turn these............



............into this.............



...........using this.............

ANZAC Day and a School Ball

Today is ANZAC (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps) Day, the day in New Zealand that we commemorate the soldiers that died in wars fought in lands far off our shores.


My Dad fought in the Middle east and around the Mediterranean area in World War 2, his brother was also in the Army and went to the Pacific Islands. Both of my Mother's brothers were also in the Islands. In the First World War my Great Uncles fought in France, one is buried there.

My last two posts have been about mothering and I often think how strong my Grandmothers must have been to see their sons off to war.

An event here several years ago gave me just a glimpse of my Grandmothers feelings......

When our oldest son was in his last year at school he and his friends were very excited to be going off to the school ball. They hired their suits, arranged their dates, and the whole experience was planned down to the last detail.

The big night arrived and they assembled at our house for pre ball celebrations and
a photo session.

The young men stood there for the photo, lined up, at attention, all wearing their dark suits. I saw my son in the line, looking very much like my Father did at the same age and I could hardly take the photo for the tears in my eyes.

For a moment I imagined my Grandmother, 55 years earlier, viewing my Father and his friends at much the same age, but - he and his friends weren't in suits going to the school ball, they were in their brand new Army uniforms, and were off to war.

I mentioned my thoughts to the mother of one of the other boys there, and we both gave thanks that our sons, God willing, may never have to go to war.

Lest we forget

Being a Mother (contd)

Somebody said to me after we lost our first child soon after birth nearly 38 years ago.....'oh well you will have another. You will soon 'get over this' when you have more children.'

That somebody didn't realise that I wanted this child with all my heart and aching arms, and even though we would go on to have four more children, I would always grieve for this lost son. I would never 'get over it', ever.

Being a Mother

At the beginning of this month Chrissy invited me here to give some thoughts on Motherhood. I didn't respond at the time but I recently found this which I thinks sums up my thoughts very well.

Being a Mother

Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you’ve had a baby
That somebody doesn’t know that once you’re a mother, “Normal,” is history,

Somebody said being a mother is boring…….
That somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver’s permit.

Somebody said that you can’t love the fifth child as much as you love the first.
That somebody doesn’t have five children.

Somebody said that the hardest part of being a mother is labour and delivery.
That somebody never watched her ‘baby’ get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten, or on a plane headed for military ‘boot camp’.

Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married.
That somebody doesn’t know that marriage adds a new son or daughter in law to a mother’s heart strings.

Somebody said a mothers job is done when her last child leaves home.
That somebody never had grandchildren.

Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don’t need to tell her.
That somebody is not a mother!

Isn't he (or she) sweet!

This handsome fellow (or lady) is a weta - my favourite insect. I know he has a face that only a Mother would love, but you have to admit he has character!

I have written about him before here. I found nine of them when I cleaned out the garden shed and woodpile.