A lot has happened here since May. The first weekend in June was olive harvest. Michael and I worked all weekend, picking olives, some of which were so high up the trees (which should have been pruned last year), that Michael had to stand at the top of our old stepladder while I held it steady, in order to reach them. Some trees had to be trimmed so that the top branches could be picked. You could say we are not the best grove keepers.
Finally, on Sunday evening, we piled the boxes of olives into the car and took them down to Pressing Engagements Olive Press in Martinborough where Dianne, as always, complimented us on our great crop and then again on our wonderful , attractive oil when we went to collect it on Monday. I wonder if she says that to all the girls and guys?
June was also the month when I discovered a new scarf to make. I love this claret Merino from First Edition in Australia. A young mother in our district wanted a red scarf and chose this colour from my sample cards. My desire to make exactly the scarf she would want led me to flick through a thousand (well, almost) books, and magazines looking for ideas. When I found this, I was sure she would love it. So, I got busy and this was the result. But, I ended up giving it to my gorgeous daughter on her birthday. In haste, I made two more, but that young woman, she didn’t like the design at all and chose a plain red scarf instead.
I really love the fibre in this one. I can’t make up my mind if it represents a river or tree bark. Either way, it is gorgeous and has already gone out the door. I have another one on the bench ready for wetting down but time for felting where are you?
It’s also been the month that Wairarapa Storytellers was formed. A small group of five women who feel committed to building a community of story lovers and tellers again. It’s been a couple of years since the last Storytelling Cafe was held. This time we have the use of the REAP Education Centre in Masterton which is a lovely, new, warm and cosy space.
So far, we have had two Cafes, one for Families and Children and another for Winter Solstice. I have to say that the Winter Solstice is my favourite story time. I love the celebration of the return of the light. Here, in New Zealand, we say that Ra, the sun, leaves his Winter wife in the North and turns towards the South to meet his Summer bride Raumati. What has been most exciting has been the queue of people wanting to tell their stories during the open mic session.
Alice Robertson and Mary Workman (seen in the picture) and myself are the tellers and the movers and shakers behind organising/decorating the venue, making supper,welcoming the audience are Janet Hayes and Catherina Breukers.
Alice and Mary will be offering two Children’s performances during the school holidays :
21st July, Bring A Cushion Stories 10:30-11:15 at Senior Citizens Hall, Carterton $5.00 per family or gold coin donation.
28th July, Bring a Cushion Stories 10:30-11:15 REAP Education Centre, Dixon Street, Masterton . $5.00 per family, Gold Coin Donation.
It’s an exciting development and made even more so by our contact with a group of tellers from the Kapiti coast who were part of the International School of Storytelling five week course last Summer who are planning a Storytelling Festival on the weekend of 11/12th November this year. Let me know if you’re interested in participating in this at all.
June was also the month in which I discovered that my original Hip replacement was not done well and that it needs replacement. On Monday, I am off to Wakefield Hospital in Wellington to have yet another operation. It’s been a sobering and disappointing time but I am looking forward to being fitter by the Spring.
These first weeks in July have been stormy. High winds, thunder and lightning, and rain, rain, rain. The stream at the bottom of our garden, usually a gentle chatterer, is a raging river these days. Walking to the other side of the bridge to feed the chickens is a real mission morning and night. Our famous mother hen has given up living with her tribe and is camped out in our carport beside the grain bin.
Everything looks pretty desolate. Someone said to me this Summer, that I lived in fairyland, but there’s nothing fairy like about the view from our windows today.