I’ve been rather crook for the past couple of weeks, a virus I’m certain I caught right here at the Geeveston Community Centre (henceforth recognised as Geco), and whilst I have been getting some things done, it’s been a struggle.
I’ve almost finished building a second insulated bolt hole, initially for the family visiting over Christmas, but mostly to house wwoofers, because there’s no way I can manage the farm on my own…
I’ve been agisting the neighbour’s cattle for the past two or three weeks, a rather large – too large? – mob of thirty or so heads that have taken my grass down to sub fire hazard levels, and left piles of manure I will deal with later when it dries.
Now the grass is down, all the thistles have become clearly visible, and I’ve been hoeing them (in their many hundreds!) rather than spraying as the neighbour was threatening to do…. It’s chop and drop on a large scale. Lots of walking, I just wish I could breathe properly. This morning was the first one I almost felt human again, so I’m on the mend, but it’s so unusual for me to get this sick, it’s knocked my socks off.
Yesterday I attended the Huon Producers Network’s inaugural market in Huonville. Well attended with 600 or so visitors counted, it had a great atmosphere, great food, great music, and it was an opportunity to mix with the locals, most of whom I’ve been avoiding so as not to spread the dreaded lurgy.
The wind dropped off, and the sun came out even; must be a good omen!
The network is one of the main reasons we settled on Geeveston; the
energy for the operation started here and in the surrounding area, and I intend to join as soon as I’m in a position to actually produce some food. Which could be sooner rather than later, because the next season of apples is well underway.
The trees were only just beginning to bloom as Richard and I first arrived two and a half months ago, and now those blooms are turning into fruit which is fast needing thinning out to ensure good size fruit.
Apples produce clusters of six flowers, five outer ones and a central one known as the king blossom. At this stage, there are bees everywhere, and without a word of a lie, you can hear the orchard buzz…..
In no time at all, all those flowers turn into grape sized apples, and the trees are just covered in fruit. If left like this, the apples don’t grow much, and whilst they are still delicious, they look far too small to be salable, though they would make excellent cider. I’m also told that pickers are paid by weight, and for them to pick a tonne (say) requires picking loads more apples, which takes longer, making pickers unhappy.
It feels very strange to literally break of hundreds of potential apples; it seems counter-intuitive, but that’s what all the locals tell me to do, and what do I know about apples?
Clusters should be no more than 2 or 3 apples, and must be at least 10cm apart. In their natural state, they look more like grapes than apples, so closely knit are they on the tree……. so off they have to come.
Some trees would easily have 300 tiny apples on them, and there’s no way a tree less than 2m tall could bring so much fruit to maturity. Last season, nothing was done to the trees because everyone involved was busy selling/buying/moving. Most of the crop went to waste apart from a trailer load that went to Charlotte Cove where my sailor friends recently moved to. This is where they were turned into cider by Werner, who, as it happens, has now decided to retire back in New South Wales…… and kindly decided to leave us his cider making equipment!
No prizes for guessing what I’ll be doing next year, watch this space!