The last two weeks in November were spend in the Nelson region, close to a little town outside Nelson called Wakefield. This is a significantly drier area than much of New Zealand, and there was hardly a drop of rain to interrupt the scorching temperatures during our entire stay.
We stayed with a family who operate a permaculture hobby farm, with two donkeys, two goats, a cat and dog, a flock of chickens (significantly less interested in humans than the chickens at the Grampians Halls Gap YHA hostel), and a lovely dark brown Jersey cow. As this was a WWOOFing expedition, we traded a few hours of work in the morning for room and board. It was awfully nice to be able to look at a kitchen with a reasonably varied compliment of ingredients and know that there would be no need to wonder what sort of single-meal food items we would have to purchase. Our accommodation was a specially constructed - and comfortable - shed, complete with two twin slat beds, a TV and DVD player, and a composting toilet; we had uninterrupted views of the night sky, as the shed was at the far end of the property, away from the main house in the rear of one of the pastures:
Our host was delighted to learn that Glen is a sculptor, and immediately suggested that he make them a few art pieces for their eclectic garden as his WWOOF work. Both Glen and I thought this was a fantastic idea, as it would mean that he would be able to dedicate a good four to five hours a day to working on his sculpture technique and play around with different materials than he usually uses - materials which our host would provide.
Behold! The artist at work:
And so Glen sculpted while I weeded/watered/composted the garden, oiled verandas and doors, and cooked. Both of us took part in the most common activity: collecting donkey poo. The poo collection occured every couple of days and took a good hour. Fortunatly it doesn't stink and is relatively dry - something that cannot be said for the cow poo, which was also collected and frequently mixed with sawdust to make a garden fertilizer. The donkeys were a bit of a nuisance, as they liked to stick their noses on our backs to beg for attention as we collected their leavings.
The place was very quaint. We learned how to cook on a wood burning stove, ate freshly laid eggs from the chickens and drank fresh milk from the cow. That cow must be one of the most sedate bovines around. She liked to be scratched, fed treats, and would aggressively trumpt her displeasure if she wasn't let out to her daily grazing pasture at the proper time or if it her daily milking was late. She also liked to lick Glen's leg, which was far from ticklish and resulted in the removal-via-sandpaper-tongue of a patch of leg hair and probably a good layer of skin.
But she loves people so!
Other activities included a couple of trips into nearby Nelson and Richmond. We dined at Harry's Bar in Nelson, and became acquainted with the reasonings behind the multiple awards the restaurant has won. Damn, they've got some fine cocktails there... I managed to take in a local belly dance class, and we went to a lovely fundraiser market event at one of the nearby vineyards. The market was great fun, and the views from the winery were simply lovely:
We enjoyed our time at the farm, but were ready to move on when our two weeks were up. Glen kept very busy and produced some pretty darn good work, if I do say so myself. So for your aesthetic enjoyment, I shall close with a little show of the fruits of his labour:
Male torso, constructed in separate muscular groups. Chicken wire and cement.
Female torso, classical position. Chicken wire and cement.
Sneering face. Chicken wire and cement, coloured with red paint, white paint, house stain, and grass.
Male face in tree. Wood, carved from a still rooted stump.
And finally: Lauren, encased in duct tape. (It was an experiment to make a mould for a cement cast torso figure. It...uh...didn't really work.)
