The Ratbag evolves

Notice the deck is now black

It's been a while but slowly and surely the 'Ratbag', as my truck is affectionatley known, is evolving, not only with my own ideas but with the input of my Hunky Hubby, along with the folk that assist me in the work.  The latest of which has been the powder coating, one wheel at a time, the front nudgebar and then the new flame window winders.  It's really coming together.  I hadn't intended on pinking up the nudgebar but Marge from Action Powder Coating thought it would look pretty cool and I have to confess she was right.  There had been a bit of discussion about the deck and we finally decided to change if from the natural Maple finish to that of charcoal, so it too looks black.

Check out those sexy pink rims

The powder coated wheels look awesome, these too were a difficult decision as I thought the entire wheel in pink would be too much but then just the half inch outer rim wouldn't be worthwhile considering the amount of work for Conrad at Action Powder Coating.  I'm pleaseed I took the gamble as I think they have turned out wicked.  The pink lidded top box has also been added which looks super cool.  We had been concerned about the first warrant with the wooden tailgates but we didn't need to worry, it flew through with both the gates and the wing mirrors.  Being in a class as a service vehicle we were allowed the extra width on the mirrors, just as well.

The only other warrant issue was the auxillary lights on the front. Negotiation arose as to whether they need to be able to be operated separate of the headlights and because they weren't wired on and individual loom, we removed them for te warrant. Following the pass, we were informed that as long as they operated with the full beam only, they didn't require an independant on/off switch so Hunky Hubby set too and put them back on and wired them up again,.

Tickled pink nudgebar and wheels

Visitors - nice and nasty

The Nice
It was getting late in the evening, around 9pm, the frost already glistening in the moonlight but our country silence was broken by a heart wrenching howl, bordering on screeching.  Hunky Hubby and I donned gumboots and jackets along with headlamp and ventured out in the darkness to identify the sound, worried that a dog had been thrown from a truck and was entrenched somewhere in the paddock.  Once outside the paniced creature went quiet so Hunky Hubby went to get the car, we were going to need much more candle power if we were going to find this hound.
It wasn't long before the headlights identified the glistening orbs of two terrified eyes reflecting out of the darkhess and only a few minutes longer to encourage a cold, wet and fearful Labrador/Beardie cross between the fence railings and into the car.
We drove our passenger to the nearby farm but no one was home so back to ours and secured him in the shed with the creature comforts of a duvet, a feed and a bowl of water.  He seemed placid enough but all creatures in shock behave accordingly so until morning, this poochy was going to have to accommodate a little rough. 

Phone calls were made to local farms with no joy before bed but I was confident someone was going to be looking for our late night visitor and if not, he would have a good home with us.
The next morning the first port of call was to allow our shaggy intruder out for ablutions.  No interest in the ducks or chooks who were already up and vocal inspite of the early hour.  A feed and a cuddle and back to bed for a bit longer.
I got on the computer and created a flyer with a couple of pictures taken at day break (to drop off at the butcher and local supermarket) and then I took our visitor for a truck ride to the vet to see if he was microchipped, alas he was not.  He wasn't recognised by the staff either so after leaving a flyer, it was back home.
I decided this gentle giant was definately a much loved pet so risked bringing him indoors on the lead, assuming he would rather snuggle in front of the fire instead of be left in the shed or in the garden.  No aggression towards Taiza, no interest at all in Monster, the cat, so things were looking really good.  I was liking this old boy a lot.
And then a knock at the door changed everything.  A gentle man and lady stood apart from my ice clad path on the grass trying to snatch a little warmth from the watery morning sun enquiring if I had found a dog, anticipation and tentative excitement spreading across their faces when I opened the door and called to my visitor 'Mummys here'.  As the woolley mammoth made a bee line for the gentleman, the lady was hugging me furiously thanking me for finding her boy.  Apparently she had called one of the farmers in the morning that I had called the night before and they told her where he was having his overnight vacation, thank goodness for the country grapevine.

His name is Guinness and he is seven years old and like my smallest chook with the same name, a bit of a Houdini.  One of three dogs, him and his smaller companion managed to sneak out through a hole in the fence at their home about 5 km from ours.  Once free it was likely the lure of a runaway rabbit across the fields that found Guinness in one of ours.  Lucky for him, and his family, he had been discovered by like minded animal lovers and was well taken care of, and now he's returned home to his family.
The thank you card that followed from his folks mentioned that come Thursday, Guinness has an appointment at the vet for microchipping. 

The Nasty
Each evening before bed, Taiza has a nature call.  This is also the time that I check on the ducks to make sure everyone is bed and often put the drier on a bit longer in the shed for the evening load of washing.  This night I could hear some scratching in the chook shed against the metal walls.  In passing I commented to Hunky Hubby that perhaps there were some rodents in the shed but then it was quickly dismissed.
A couple of nights following the three amigos were still outside in the cold and damp when I did my nightly rounds, under protest I eventually had them rounded up but the next night it was the same scenario.  Convinced our terror tunnelers were back we donned the trusty headlamp again and searched the chookhouse, lifting the straw and the wooden pellet beneath, sure enough there was the evidence, piles of dirt and stones on top of the flagstones.  As it was late and very cold, we threw in a poison bait and put everything back for the night.
The next day I was back pulling the shed apart, this time lifting the flagstones as well and found the loose bait in the middle of a large nest along with a decent pile of chook food.  I destroyed the nest, filled in the tunnels, nailed baits to the underside of the pellet and after taking a mental note that there was more tunneling under the nesting cupboard, put everything back until the weekend when there was more time.
That was a couple of days later.  This time I took all the straw out completely.  Because the three amigos sleep in the chook house, I cover the entire shed in straw to keep them dry and to stop me from slipping, its so easy to remove a fouled slab of straw and replace it with fresh.  The soiled slab goes straight out to the garden under the trees as fertilised mulch so nothing is wasted.
After moving the cupboard, and filling in the tunnels beneath I decided to check the baits under the pellet and there she was, big and brown and nasty.  Initially I was going to stomp on her but then I envisaged her running up my pants leg and freaked myself out.  She somehow managed to squeeze under the flagstone and made a bee line for the exit under the wall of the shed that I had filled in.  I could see her tail under the corner of the flagstone so jumped on it and discovered it had movement so I jumped on the opposite corner to provide some lift.  For a few seconds I stomped on the flagstone in the method of a see-saw.  I stopped briefly, the tail twitched so a few more stomps.  I'm no light weight so she had to have succumbed to the pounding pressure of my stomping.  Gingerly, using the pinch bar, I edged up the corner of the flagstone.  Her head and shoulders were under the wall of the shed and her hips and tail inside.  I had to make sure she was dead and not suffering so I pulled her out by the tail and gave her a quick sharp smack to the skull with the hammer, and then I felt sick!.  I had just killed one of God's creatures that I had no intention of eating.  I stood and prayed for forgiveness at the same time proud that I had just killed the rat that was tormenting my ducks.  I was hot, sweating but proud, but I got the bee-arch and even took the photo to prove it.

Dreams versus Reality

Isn't it strange how we can spend years dreaming about something but once that desire becomes a reality, it somehow looses its importance, or perhaps we just loose the passion that drove the desire?

When I was a little girl walking to school in Motueka I would go past the home of an older girl that had just got her first car.  To me, she may as well have just landed on the moon.  The reality of me ever owning a car seemed too fantastical.

When I was 17 I had my second real boyfriend, hindsight being 20/20 I would of been better off not to but every experience we have in life directs us to where we end up so for that I am grateful.  This chap had a Honda CB100 motorcycle, turned out it was his second bike but his Triumph 650 Bonneville had been stolen so I missed out on the classic REAL motorcycle.  Anyway, he had promised to take me to the movies, it was the first showing of the first Star Wars movie.  He'd had a couple of ales on his way home, he slid in some gravel and did them both some serious injury  That was the end of the date but the beginning of my dertermination to learn to ride so that I never had to miss out on something because of someone elses behaviour again.

There were some horrendous journeys on that CB100 over the years but that little bike was also my training ground for motorcycle mechanics as I rebuilt it, and the CB650 Custom that followed it a few years later.  Granted my butt was incredibly smaller in those days, the thought of this arrangement adorning that tiny frame is all but farcicle.

Anyway, I digress.  Back to the dream, it was always the Harley Davidson.

The CB 100 dude ended up being husband #1 and that ended with a broken CB 650 Custom which in turn was replaced with another CB 650 Custom albeit without the stainless steel pipes.  A broken marriage, a broken bike and a broken body (not literally, just a lot of bruises that took many months to heal) it was time to move on.  The accident knocked my confidence around but it didn't keep me off the back of a motorcyle for long.  Over the years that followed the CB 650 Custom became a Suzuki GSX1100 and then a Honda 700 Magna which in turn gave way to motherhood until 2007 when the Beast arrived - originally a Yamaha XS1100 it was unrecognisable as it had been when it left the factory but for me it was love at first sight, of course the price helped too as it was totally affordable.

The Beast was all muscle, it was black, it was heavy and it was loud, very very loud.  I reckon the previous owner was a Harley wanna-be so it suited me to a tea, cause that was me too although I don't think I would have ever butchered this bike to the degree it had become.  It wasn't long however and the Beast became a financial black hole and a potential death trap so it was time to repair and replace and the dream finally became a reality.  Caution gave way to insanity as I commited myself to a $21K debt to ride my dream machine, a 2008 Harley Davidson XL1200 C, 105th anniversary edition.  To tell the truth, if it wasn't for meeting Hunky Hubby #3 I don't think I would have returned to motorcycling after junior parenting but because of his passion and encouragement it was a natural progression, also helped immensely that he proposed while test riding the Harley Davidsons but that is another blog :-)

I was absolutely precious about the XL1200C, it was the only brand new vehicle I had ever owned and it had taken a lifetime to realise the dream, 46 years. I was in heaven.  I had my bike and I was engaged to Hunky Hubby, the only thing missing was the place in the country but that was to come less than six months later.  Thanks to the musical persistance of new neighbours we left Bishopdale in January of 2008 and moved to Southbridge.

The cottage was awesome, the driveway was dusty and so began a disgruntled relationship with a bucket and brush to keep the beauties clean as by now Hunky Hubby was on Harley number 2,  a lovely Softail that I was also privileged to ride, usually in the rain when it was due to be taken to town for a service but it wasn't really a chore.  It was big and black and loud, oh what a beautiful note it cracked!  But with our country lifestyle also came sacrifices and the extra hours travel to town meant that we stopped attending the Ulysses bike club meetings mid week.  It also meant that the average 250km ride became 350km so we began to pick and choose the events that we attended and then our weekends became so labour intensive that the riding diminished to the point a ride had to be added to the calendar just to be included into our lifestyle.

This year began tough.  With Hunky Hubby still struggling to find a permanent position and the government threatening, and succeeding, to increase registration on motorcycles, we had to face cold hard facts.  Our lifestyle had surpassed the dream and now the two just weren't compatible.  The decision was made to let the bikes go.  I think we both immediately went into mourning and began second guessing our decisions but it was meant to be.  The bikes spent more time in the shed than on the road, our lifestyle was more designed to a truck than a motorcyle so for now, the dream was overshadowed by reality.

It's probably been three months now since the Harley sold and to be totally honest I haven't missed it.  I decided to sell the car too and followed the lifestyle we now lead when I purchased the Ratbag.  With #1 son moving out again in a couple of weeks, and he too the proud owner of a truck (following in his mummys footsteps, so proud), it just cements that the decision to sell was the right and practical one.  Hunky Hubby is still unable to find a permanent position and we are facing some incredibly tight financial times ahead therefore no time for expensive dreams just now but...................in the future, perhaps a trike, a Harley Davidson of course!

Passion for Trucks

Not quite sure when my passion for trucks began but perhaps my love for them began with the gratitute I felt for the Motueka logging boys that didn't run over me as a child.  We lived on the main thoroughfare in the day, from the hills where the logs were felled to the mill at Baigents where they were processed.  According to the stories my mother told, as a toddler, I was always getting out of the section and onto the road, causing the logging trucks to stop, and remove me from certain disaster.  As the story goes, I was put in a dog collar and tied to the fence in an attempt to curtail my wandering and potentially fatal ways.  As I am still in the land of the living, obviousy at some level, it worked.  Whenever a truck show came to town, I would be there dreaming. And then we moved to Southbridge.  I yearned to leave the city and work in the country so once again the dream to drive was at the forefront.  Opportunities were a bit limiting, 'a' because of my age and 'b' because of my experience, or lack thereof but still I was determined and began both the study and the driving lessons at the Charter driving school.  After I had acheived my Class 2, I hired the truck from Charter and drove it to Southbridge just for fun.  I was over the moon, the truck felt enormous and I felt as if I could accomplish anything.  One step closer to working in the country I began studying for my Class 4.  It was more expense and more challenging but I was determined to succeed, and more determined to leave the city commute to work behind.    

The proof in the pudding came once this next goal was achieved.  My workplace was relocating across town and there was no one to drive the truck that had been hired to move the furniture.  Everyone knew I had my Class 2 so the job fell to me.  Driving with an instructor and driving a fully laden truck through the central city are TWO totally different things, as well as holding up the traffic on a main road so that I could back into the site, with everyone lined up on the balcony watching (fortunately for me, I couldn't see that). 

As fate would have it though, I acheived my goal of working in the country but by design or flaw, I never got my Class 5 license, although I did get to drive a Class 5 beauty.  I left my job in the city and started working from home part time in my home office and the other part- time feeding calves (another story).  When calving was finished, I began full time from home, essentially The Phone Guys 'Dan Carter Country Contact Centre'.  Nowadays my Tikled pink RatBag is as close to a truck driving job as I have, and that is ALL pleasure.

Happy Mothers Day

It was with pleasure and pain that Mothers Day dawned on May 9th, 2010.  The day was a beaut, bright and sunny which was great, hasn't Autumn been grand?  I had spoken to Mum on the phone on Friday as she opened the box with the bouquet of carnations I had sent her by courier.  It wasn't as good as if I had delivered them but pretty much the next best thing.  On Mothers Day I txt her with more best wishes.

We surprised the Hunky Hubby's Mum with lunch at Sequoia 88.  Along for the meal was Hunky Hubby's eldest sister and afterwards we caught up with his baby sister and her baby Alex.  He's a real bubbly younster and even though he had just woken from an afternoon nap, he still had his cheeky smile for his Nana.  The meal was nice but I don't think it was the best choice of venue.  The room isn't acousticly designed to absorb noise and it was really noisey.  It didn't help that one wee youngster screamed the whole time we were there until finally the staff suggested his Mum take him out, thank goodness.  Hunky Hubby's Mum confessed she had never been taken out to lunch for Mothers Day so we were really blessed that we had that honour.

The highlight of my day as a mother was a txt from Taiza " Happy Mothers Day Mum, love you lots, thankyou for being my Mum.  Lots of love, Taiza xoxo"
His previous owner, Serena in Dunedin, sent the txt on behalf of our cute little bundle and I was just blown away.  Serena and I both raised our boys on our own, I am past the worst of it now but she is still struggling to understand an aggressive, pubescent male and hasn't had the best time of it.  It blessed me to bits that in the middle of her own troubles she had the time and inclination to think of me and Taiza on Mothers Day.  Thank you Serena, you have no idea how much your sweet gesture touched my heart.

On the flip side of that, my  own son had nothing for me on Mothers Day except verbal abuse.  He can be so sweet when there is something he needs and then he can be turned in a split second and be the kid from hell.  No hugs, no best wishes, not even a cup of tea.  I had gone to bed when I remembered my mobile in the kitchen and got up again to retreive it.  He was in the kitchen having a late snack.  I thanked him for the day 'oh yeah, happy Mothers Day' and that was it.  I didn't think my heart could sink any lower.  Two days later I was still feeling unloved and unappreciated by my family of one son.  I know Serena would share my pain, as do many others but what did we ever do to be treated with such distain?  Obviously this Mothers Day, it just wasn't about me!

Harvest Time

Finally the day arrived to harvest the pumpkins.  I still think they were planted a little late but after saving six seeds from a particularly nice supermarket pumpkin, we have a yeild of 14 fruit.  Yes, it's a fruit, by definition because the seed is on the inside, or so I learned at school.
The walnuts are also dropping for collection and are now piling up on the terrace to join the pumpkins for storage.  The terrace was a treasure in the summer as the sun was high enough in the sky that it always provided a shady spot for a cuppa.  Just the opposite for the cooler months but that in itself is a bonus as I now have somewhere for the fruits of my labour, out of the weather but also far enough away from the rodents that sneak around in the garage.  Well at least the larger ones.  I have found a couple of tiny wee mice visiting Lacie (rabbit) on a regular basis and then clinging to the wall behind her hutch trying to hide from me, which obviously failed.  Although there is rat bait in abundance in the shed, I haven't had the heart to lay it for the tiny nose twitching visitors.  I know, I know!  They are disease carrying pests but they are soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo cute!!  Soon ok, I will lay the bait soon!

Back to the harvest.  It's my second season at trying to grow onions.  All the gardening mags say you need patience but they are easy to grow.  I say 'CRAP'!!!  The sum total of my onion harvest was an earth staggering ..................................ONE!!! but having said that, it was a very healthy one, and of generous proportions.  Another four that have played possum all summer have started to grow again.  I don't suppose it really helped that the three girls (chooks RIP ) would be in the garden scratching up whatever I had planted within moments of doing so.  For all their antics, we miss them terribly.  Houdini, Blackie and Ben are interesting and usually up to no good, but they just aren't family like our girls.  Whenever we would turn over a rock or a piece of wood, the girls would be under our fingers trying to devour whatever bugs/worms had been disturbed.  Gardening was always a delicate affair for fear of lifting the fork or shovel with a chicken impaled because she was far too nosey for her own good.  The back door had to be kept closed or all three would make a bee line for Monster's (resident feline) tucker or they would disappear into the bedroom or office for an afternoon siesta.  Although the

three new chooks, of which I include Ben, also like the cat biscuits, they don't rush me with wings flapping to enjoy the delicacy.  I could always rely on the shaking of the biscuit container to bring the girls running post haste from any direction.  They never caught on that on most occassions it was a lure back to their enclosure.  As I said, we miss them dreadfully, perhaps it was the breed.  We are contemplating getting more but first we have to wait and see if Blackie is male or female, the jury is still out.  If it's a girl, it is very aggressive so we wouldn't be able to bring in point of lay chicks for fear of them being injured or killed.  If Blackie turns out to be male, it will have to go, Ben has already taken up the position of resident rooster and practises the crow at 6 am every morning.  Unlike the rooster down the road, Ben crows at a respectable hour thankfully.

So to conclude, I can successfully grow potatoes and pumpkins without too much effort.  Everything else is still a challenge, at least it is once it leaves the windowsill.  I will let you know how I get on with the home made seed tape.

The Three Amigos new pond

It isn't the easiest time for us at the moment, Hunky Husband has been temping as a painter and decorator since his local company went bust last year as part of the recession.  Five months working for a company in Ashburton was showing promise for a permanent position but then nothing.  Changing recruitment companies, he then found work in Christchurch but now that has dried up too.  Thankfully when Hunky Husband sold his Harley Davidson, the money was squirreled away in the bank so the bills are still being paid while he is 'on leave'.  However, he may not be gainfully employed this week but idle he has not been either.  After six months, the internet cable that has laid like a dormant black serpent upon the lawn, has now been laid to rest beneath the green carpet.  The extension to the poultry enclosure has been extended virtically in an attempt to keep Houdini, Blackie and Ben within, although Houdini, ever honourable to her name was on the loose again this afternoon in the paddock.  And today, the Three Amigos were treated with a new pond.

My dear friend Flo had decided that her

water garden wasn't all that it was cracked up to be without a pump and so donated it for the watery amusement of the Three Amigos and they were dutifully grateful.  Originally they had a dirt pond but it had begun to seep oil from vehicles that had long since been parked in the vacinity.  Suspecting it hazardous to their health, the plastic pond would work a treat.  Hunky Husband swung on the shovel and it was loaded into the ground and set to overflow into a dirt pond away from the area that was developing the oilslick.  Once filled with water it didn't take long for the nosey chickens to investigate the disturbed soil and then the Three Amigos checked out their new watery playground.

Taiza to the vet

It was a pretty stressful few hours today as it was time for our precious wee pup, Taiza to go to the vet to be neutered. We had affectionately named our local vet Doctor Death, tongue in cheek really as it seemed most times I took a pet to see him, I never came home with one. BunBuns (rabbit)was first, a tumour in his neck. Then it was the first of our three girls, Madam (Red Shaver chook), another tumour. The most traumatic for me was my precious 12 year old Queenie (British Short Hair cat). She went in for routine dental work but due to an undiagnosed infection, died on the table as she came out of anaesthetic. I cried like a baby for days.

So this morning we were terribly anxious, but we prayed, Taiza is young and his heart is strong. I perched him on my computer desk and took photos, just in case.

The good news though is Taiza came through the surgery without any drama and although feeling a little dozey on it and a little indignant, not a real bloke any more, he's fine. He's eaten and is just resting in front of the fire staying warm.

Autumn has well and truly arrived in Southbridge and we had our first frost this morning along with a foggy start. There are calves across the way and I just love the sound of hungry bovine when the farmer is feeding out. On top of that duck hunting season started on the weekend and before dawn, along with the rooster at a nearby farm, in the distance can be heard the call from the hides encouraging the ducks to their demise. We have a new small pond to put in for our own Three Amigos (Pekin Ducks) and it was my hope to encourage a few of their wild cousins down to protect them from the hunters but what I didn't know was that our own farmer had built a pond a few paddocks over from the house and was attracting them for his own fatal pleasures.

A 'RatBag' in Pink

This is the bonnet of the 'RatBag', it's a vinyl wrap done by a wee company in Woodend, 'Motivation Design'. Murray and Coral are an awesome team and I couldn't be more pleased with the outcome. After describing what I wanted, they created the essence of it perfectly. The rear window is done in a product called Window Vision and is a product with tiny holes that reduce the UV light by almost 90% and also reduces the heat from the sun, good on folk like me with very little hair.

The RatBag is still under construction. My builder 'Phil Crocker Builder' from Southbridge had the joyous task of making the farm 'tail'gates and will be installing a new centre console in the next day or two. He'll be very pleased that he got out of making the louvres that were originally planned for the back window. His next task will be the top box so watch this space.

Pineapple and Cucumber Relish

Well it wasn't intended to be my first entry on my first blog site but you have to run with what's going on in a country life and as I have just finished making a batch of Pineapple and Cucumber Relish, I thought it fitting to share this recipe. It's quick and easy to make and is so devine on crackers with cheese that you will want to go back for more so here it is:

1 x 440 gm tin crushed pineapple (or as close to in size)

2 green or 4 apple cucumbers, peeled and chopped

3 medium onions, peeled and chopped small

1 tablespoon common sea salt

225 gms sugarjuice of one lemon (optional)

360 ml cider vinegar (or white vinegar)

Mix all ingredients in a saucepan and bring to the boil, turn down to just more than a simmer and cook for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile heat glass jars (if bottling into plastic wait until cold)in a warm low oven or you could put them into hot water but make sure they are completely dry before bottling the relish. This will make a batch that will fill 3 x 100 gms coffee jars.

Thicken relish with 1 1/2 tablespoons cornflour, 1 teaspoon tumeric and 1/2 teaspoon curry powder mixed with enough vinegar to make it flow. Add to relish while still simmering, thicken and then turn off to cool.

Once cool enough to handle, remove jars from oven and bottle. Leave unsealed until completely cold.

So there it is. Taiza our wee dog, Shih-Tzu/Lhasa Apso cross, will give anything a try once so I'm sure you can too. What have you got to lose??