geeking out

we went to the movies on tuesday. i was our reward for the hard work we put in at the fair, and for some reason all the theatres in new zealand have ten dollar tuesday rates for some unexplainable reason. we went to the movies at the embassy in wellington, the theatre which was severely run down until peter jackson restored it for the new zealand premiers of his lord of the rings films. it's lovely now, and all of the seats are named so if one were particularly nerdy they could walk down the aisle and see all of the actors and artists....and even request specific seats at the box office. there was a green velvet curtain which rose on the awesomeness which was watchmen. mandi (my wwoofs host) was horrified. i guess she didn't realize that there would be gore. ah but what pretty gore it was. and all the previews were for comic book movies and i was just in floods of nerd joy.....
and then today i baked blueberry crumble all day. and blueberry apple turnovers. and bite sized blueberry raviolis...

armed with a frying pan

the fair is over and i apologize for the lateness of my story. however it took me a few days to recover. we woke at three in the morning on saturday after baking and preparing for a week and packing up the cars on friday night before our enforced early bedtime, and arrived in martinborough at five thirty as the setup was just going underway. and in the low crack-of-dawn light and the illumination of several oddly bright colored lights it was hard to grasp the extent of the booths, which spread beyond eyesight as we hung our signs, moved the two freezers full of icecream and pies off of the truck, and set up our dozen frying pans. as it got lighter we recieved a trickle of customers from the other stallholders seeking an early breakfast. we were able to grab some hash browns masquarading as potato pancakes from another stall for breakfast, along with the smallest large cup of coffee i have ever recieved, and then were much happier about preparing food for everyone else. about an hour in we were in full swing as a small contingent of fairgoers sought an incredibly sugary breakfast in our pancakes with icecream, berry sauce and maple syrup, and it picked up continually as the day went on.
since we were a mad up this time (it only requires six people to properly run the stall and there were seven of us) we were able to rotate through breaks and see the fair, something they weren't able to do last month as they were understaffed. it was the largest spralling fair i have ever seen, part farmers market, part flea market, with a whole lot of craft fair and crazy thrown in for flavor. there was a rubber duck race and a guy making knit batman fingerpuppets, and all sorts of awesome handprinted new zealand themed t-shirts.the stalls and tables filled an entire park and the street circling it with little mini fair annexes stretching off onto outlying streets. it was impossible to see it all in the forty minutes i had for a break but walking fast i was able to cover about half. and when it got to about noon the lunch rush hit and i rushed back to a line of people going around the corner i went straight to my frying pans and resumed pre-planned duties as 'griller' making pancakes for the next hour.
the batter is very thin when poured and it gains a large about of height as it cooks, puffing up quite a bit to make a rather tall pancake, but as the top side is uncooked, when you flip them, the loose batter splatters all over. hitting you, the pan, the grills, and everything else in it's path. we wore gloves and aprons but even so i smelled like pancake for the next twenty four hours. and to make the pancakes golden brown and rich and at the same time keep them from sticking to the pan, we used butter instead of spray. huge sticks of butter, that we kept whole and just rubbed into the pan. during the rush it took me half an hour to go through a 500 g stick of butter and a five kilo bucket of batter. we had every frying pan going. and i think i began to absorb butter through my skin. as the rush increased we became more manic, making inane pancake themed jokes and more references and spontaneously bursting into songs in which we changed lyrics to pancake. and still the people came. having just enough time for a bathroom break, having built up a twenty pancake reserve in a slight lull in service when there were more orders for sundays than pancakes, i was able to sprint to the bathrooms and mercifully there was no line. we were luckily situated in prime fair location, under the trees in the middle of the park, so we didn't get the direct sunshine which was out if full force at midday, but standing over a set of six frying pans pouring pancake batter can keep you pretty warm and we drank an alarming amount of water in a small amount of time.
we finally coasted to a crawl about an hour after the fair had closed. and at six we began to pack up the trucks, consoladate dishes, and give away the last of our leftover pancakes to our neighbors the lemon cordial people who had supplied us with lemonaide at our busiest moments and praised our speed and flipping prowess. and by seven thirty we were home and so exhaused we couldnt' even contemplate making dinner but knowing we had to eat. and so we ordered pizza and managed to stay away long enough to eat it before crashing. i mistakenly thought i could read a little and i fell asleep still holding my book and my roommate bettyann had to take my glasses off as she was afraid i might break them while is slept.
looking back at the experience two days later i can safely say that when i comes to pancakes there is only one thing you need to remember to solve any problem which might arise: more butter

un-farmy

considering that i have been on a farm, i have been doing distinctly un-farmy and more house wife-y things this week. i have spent almost all of my time in the kitchen. and it's been sunny so it's been extremely warm in the kitchen especially when i have been cooking. i have been in charge of meals and cleaning because mary has been feverishly finished one hundred blueberry pies, and bettyann is allergic to everything (and especially animals) so she can't really come in the house, so that leaves me. and while i have been in the house i have been making batches of sauce for the fair. first picking, coreing, blending and cooking apples from out back in chicken territory, then adding berries till it turns a sinister sort of hot pink to fushia color. and in an gynormous pot, often two going at one time, which i have to stir with a very longhandled wooden paddle. makes me feel distinctly witchy, like babayaga or something. and it makes the house smell good but all the steam constantly in an already over warm house, means that i have to go outside often for air breaks, in the two minutes i can be away before i must return to stir some more. because if you don't stir, everything sticks to the bottom, and has to be cleaned very thoroughly, scraped from the bottom with steel wool and not a very pleasant job at all.
yesterday i received some respite however when i was sent into the fields to pick some berries to boost the dwindling supply in the cafe. i was given a ten kilo bucket and i filled it in under two hours working steadily, to the amazment of the others, as that was an unexpectedly large volume to return with. and today i get to go back with my bucket again, and i think that i may bring a second bucket to upturn as a seat, no reason to be uncomfortable and that way i will be able to reach all the wonderful dark ones hidden in the low branches. and taste test as i go of course. it's only right, i wouldn't feel okay delivering berries that i didn't know were extremely tasty, so it's my responsibility to eat as i pick. right?!

sticky fingers

slow weekend here at the blueberry farm and bakery. i have after two mornings become quite used to the chickens waking me up within the five o clock hour and have decided that the easiest thing is just to feed them so i keep a bag of the old bread used for their breakfast by my door and shuffle out half blind in the early morning to get them their breakfast.mary was off for the day (overnight bbq) so the alluring smell of baking pies did not linger over the property but the sun came out after a weekend of thoroughly dissapointing rain and heavy wind so i was delighted nevertheless. i spent the morning vacuming up drifts of dog hair thick as snow (another wwoofer bettyann is super allergic to basically everything and had to show us where her shot was in case she went into shock while we were there-crazy) and then ran down the hill in a flurry to open the cafe when a group of preschoolers showed up to pick berries and mandi had completely forgotten they were coming. i was given a small respite from the crazy while they went out and picked to get the stove and espresso machine going for pancakes and coffee respectively but all to soo they returned, and being children, bore an average of twenty berries per bucket to be weighed and seperatly bagged at their intense insistance. after which bettyann and i were set running frantically trying to keep up with pancake and sunday orders and watching as twenty odd children ran wild touching everything with icecreamy fingers. oh the glorious smudges.
but mostly it's quiet with just three of us here. i'm bracing though for when we are flooded with incoming wwoofers in preperation for the fair this weekend. it will be crowded and crazy i'm sure but as of now not much to report. so till then...

and it's blueberries again

so i've finally made it back to some farm stuff-this time in upper hutt just outside of wellington-and doing some things with blueberries again. no complaints here. they have a little cafe where people come on the weekends for blueberry pancakes, sundays, sorbet, muffins, and pies as well as pick your own. it's cute and there are going to be lots of other woofers here in preperation for the martinborough fair next weekend (apparently the largest in the southern hemisphere) including mary who showed me around this afternoon. she left being a private chef in both n.y. and london to come over here and bake 75 pies in a week for the blueberry farm. they have a ton of blueberries here, extensive orchards, and it's lovely and calm and so much sun. there is a dog named frodo and a herd of un-named ducks and chickens (except for one extreemly well dressed and slightly mad looking chicken who has been named dumbledor) and a swimming hole. i think it ought to be a nice relaxing break for hustle and bustle type of stuff. and one two busses a day and perhaps a ferry when i'm lucky. we'll see.

escape from the cold cold south

and these are the remarkables. covered in clouds and completely un-seeable. i left the south island behind last night, after two days of travel, and two weeks of bad weather. i have now unwound my scarft and taken off my little mittens that i desperatly made out of sox when my fingers became too cold. the travel was spent mostly asleep or half asleep. i had to get up at seven and six the past two mornings and corral all of my pocessions into my backpack and consider dragging a comb through my hair and deciding it wasn't really worth it and putting a hat on instead. a lot of time has also been spent comiserating on the discomfort of traveling by coach, with my reflection in the window. seeing lovely scenery pass by swiftly, and the windows all covered in rain. i've pretty much figured out the most comfortable ways to sleep when you have both your seat and the one next to you. and i've also developed a routine of switching sides of the bus with each trip so i don't get neck problems. but i have made a really nice batch of trail mix ( or tutti fruitti as it's called by the swiss) which i've been bringing with me, and i've learned what to avoid when the bus stops for 'comfort breaks' and there is a little cafe. the chips/fries/wedges while they always smell like a good idea, never taste like it, and have most likely been sitting under hot lights for several days, which the hot chocolate, though accompanied by the obligatory two pink marshmallows, is not too bad, and warm.
but enough about busses/coaches and travel. i am in wellington, capital city, windy city (after chicago of course) it's time to wander and do some laundry and find some neat cafe in which to have lunch, preferably containing bacon. and then tomorrow it's off to the farm again, after so long. in upper hutt (supposedly a suburb of wellington) and something involving pancakes and blueberries so it can't be too bad right?!
p.s. since it was requested by several people, here is a picture of me, smelling the roses. see i don't look any different.

and again with the rain...

so i made it to queenstown fine, slogging through rain to to the hostel after hours on the bus from dunedin, with cramped feet and a growling stomach. the hostel is situated right on the late which would be lovely, such a nice view of the mountains, however the remarkables (aparently the only range running north/south other than the rockies) are not so remarkable wreathed in clouds so that you can barely make them out. the lake would be beautiful so wide and clear and littered with cute little black ducks which approach you eagerly in search of crumbs, if it weren't raining steadily with a strong wind blowing. i did have some lovely spicy indian in town upon arriving and that helped to calm my frustration but it has been a challenge to be in queenstown, adventure capital of new zealand and possibly even the world, and have to sequester in the lounge watching 'small soldiers' on vhs to keep from getting pnemonia out in the cold. there will be no jumping out of things or off of things, no shooting down rivers, riding gondolas to soaring heights and spectacular views, no tours, no boating, nothing adventureous at all, except how many times i can microwave the same pizza and still consume it.
my biggest salvation is that there is an amazing chocolateirie called patagonia which an enormous hot chocolate that they can make with either chile, ginger or lavender, and free wireless. i have visited them twice already and plan to sample every flavor of fudge they can create. so although it is summer here (and the peak season prices reflect that) it doesn't feel like it. i will weather the cold and damp in hopes of warmth and sun and the allure of wellington and working at a market making blueberry pancakes. and atleast there are the oscars tonight to distract me further from the frustration of being so earthbound in a place so renound for it's gravity defying possibilities.