https://www.facebook.com/104984518352626/

The Whalers' Cottage, Christchurch (2025)

28/09/2025

I got 199 reactions and 37 replies on my recent top post! Thank you all for your continued support. I could not have done it without you. 🙏🤗🎉

26/09/2025

Racing against time to harvest wild watercress from our winterbourne before it dries up for the year!

There's something magical about wading into the cold, crystal-clear water and gathering these peppery greens that have been drawing their sharp flavor from the pure stream.

The urgency makes it even more special - these seasonal streams won't flow much longer as the weather warms. In just a few weeks, this abundant green paradise will be nothing but dry stones, waiting patiently for next winter's return.

Nothing beats the taste of truly wild watercress - so much more vibrant than anything you can buy. Plus, I'm continuing an ancient tradition that generations have enjoyed along these same banks.

Nature's free gifts are the sweetest, especially when they're fleeting. Already planning my next foraging trip before it's too late!

26/09/2025

Filled with appreciation.

26/09/2025

Feeling grateful for our beautiful Sycamore Maple this spring morning! This magnificent tree has become such a treasured part of our garden over the years.

I love watching it change through the seasons - from those delicate greenish flowers in spring, to the gorgeous broad leaves that give us perfect shade all summer, and then that stunning golden transformation in autumn when the kids go crazy collecting all the helicopter seeds botanically known as samaras

Even the bark has character now - gone from baby-smooth to these amazing deep ridges that tell the story of every season it's weathered. There's something so grounding about having this gentle giant in our space, watching it grow alongside our family.

Sometimes the most beautiful things are right in our own backyard!

26/09/2025

Looking out from our living room window, we can still see the snow-cradled Southern Alps stretching across the horizon. There's something magical about this view that never grows old—the way the morning light catches the pristine white peaks, transforming them into something almost ethereal against the cloudy sky. Even from distance, I find myself drawn to that majestic backdrop day after day.
The snow seems to embrace those ancient mountains like a soft blanket, highlighting every ridge and valley with delicate precision.

I often wonder how many sunrises and sunsets those peaks have witnessed, how many storms they've weathered while maintaining their silent, steadfast presence. From our cozy vantage point, they seem both impossibly distant and remarkably intimate—a constant reminder of the wild, untamed beauty that exists just beyond our everyday world.

25/09/2025

We are so lucky to have three groves of Cabbage Trees on the farm! Every spring they put on the most incredible show - tall stems covered in cream-coloured flowers that smell absolutely divine. The fragrance just draws you outside!

By late summer, those flowers turn into clusters of white and blue-mottled berries that look like little jewels hanging from the trees. What fascinates me most is learning about how the Māori and early settlers used every part of these amazing trees - the young shoots for food, and the tough leaves woven into ropes, mats, waterproof cloaks, even sandals!

I keep thinking I should try tasting those tender young shoots like they did, but I haven't worked up the courage yet! There's something pretty special about having trees in your backyard that sustained entire communities for centuries. Makes you appreciate the incredible knowledge and ingenuity of those who came before us.

Anyone else have these beauties growing near them? Have you ever tried the traditional foods?

23/09/2025

Our beloved pear tree suffered quite a blow last autumn when a fierce gale swept through our farm, leaving it dramatically leaning toward the old weathered shed that has stood there for decades. The sight was both heartbreaking and alarming – this tree that had faithfully provided us with sweet, juicy pears for years now looked as though it might not survive the winter.

We carefully trimmed back the damaged branches, unsure whether our efforts would be enough to save it. But nature has a remarkable way of surprising us. As spring arrived with its gentle warmth, we were delighted to discover fresh green shoots emerging from the pruned branches. Even more encouraging, delicate white blossoms began to appear, transforming what we had feared might be a dying tree into a symbol of resilience and renewal.

The sight of those hopeful flowers fills us with optimism. If all goes well, we should be able to harvest a crop of pears again next season – perhaps not as abundant as in previous years, but precious nonetheless. There's something deeply satisfying about witnessing this cycle of damage, recovery, and rebirth right in our own backyard. It reminds us that with a little care and patience, even the most battered among us can find ways to flourish again.

23/09/2025

This morning, I chose to keep things beautifully simple with a comforting bowl of warm miso soup paired with perfectly steamed rice. There's something deeply satisfying about starting the day with such humble yet nourishing foods—the umami-rich broth awakening my senses while the rice provides that gentle, grounding energy I need to face whatever lies ahead.

As I sit here, savoring these quiet moments before the world fully awakens, I'm reminded of how the smallest acts of self-care can set the tone for an entire day. This simple breakfast isn't just fuel for my body; it's a moment of mindfulness, a pause to appreciate the present.

I hope each of you finds your own version of this peaceful simplicity today, whatever form it may take. Whether it's your morning coffee ritual, a few minutes of stretching, or simply taking a deep breath before stepping into your busy schedule—these small moments matter.

Have a wonderful day, everyone, and please remember to share your love generously with the world around you. In a time when kindness sometimes feels scarce, your warmth and compassion can be the bright spot in someone else's day. Small gestures, genuine smiles, patient listening—these are the ways we make our corner of the world a little more beautiful.

Go out there and sprinkle some joy wherever you go.

19/09/2025

Our Singaporean relatives never fail to comment on the howling winds that rattle through our house during the quiet hours of the night. Coming from their tropical, sheltered island home, they're genuinely startled by these powerful gusts that seem to shake the very foundations of our home. I've grown so accustomed to this nightly symphony that I barely notice it anymore, but through their wide-eyed reactions, I'm reminded of just how unique our windy corner of the world really is.

New Zealand sits squarely within what meteorologists call the "Roaring Forties" – that notorious belt of fierce, persistent westerly winds that sweep across the Southern Hemisphere between 40 and 50 degrees South latitude. Unlike the Northern Hemisphere, where massive continents break up and disrupt wind patterns, our small island nation sits relatively isolated in the vast Southern Ocean. There are no towering mountain ranges or sprawling landmasses to deflect or weaken these powerful currents as they race around the globe. The winds arrive at our shores with their full force intact, circulating almost unimpeded across the ocean expanses.

This geographical positioning means that these relentless westerlies significantly shape our temperate climate and contribute to New Zealand's well-earned reputation as one of the world's windiest countries. What might seem like a meteorological inconvenience to our visiting relatives is actually the very force that gives our weather its distinctive character.

But there's an unexpected gift that comes with all this wind – one that makes the sleepless nights worthwhile. When those powerful gusts sweep across our landscape, they clear away the clouds with remarkable efficiency, leaving behind crystalline skies that reveal some of the most breathtaking sunrises I've ever witnessed. On those precious mornings after a particularly windy night, I'll step outside to find the air impossibly clear and crisp. The Southern Alps emerge from the distance like a magnificent painting, their snow-cradled peaks glowing pink and gold in the early morning light, standing in sharp relief against the deep blue sky.

These moments of sublime beauty – born from the very winds that keep our relatives awake – remind me that there's often something wonderful waiting on the other side of nature's more boisterous displays. The same forces that rattle our windows and test the strength of our roof also gift us with these spectacular dawn panoramas that would be impossible without the wind's clearing touch.

18/09/2025

Leeks taste their absolute best when harvested during their natural season, and I'm fortunate to have two remaining leeks still thriving in our kitchen garden. After much consideration, I've made a thoughtful decision about their fate: I'll allow one to go to seed, letting it complete its natural cycle and perhaps provide seeds for next year's crop. The other leek, however, is destined for something far more immediate and comforting.

I'll harvest that second leek and transform it into a rustic potato and leek soup. There's something deeply satisfying about walking out to the garden in the early morning light, pulling a leek from the earth with soil still clinging to its roots, and knowing that within the hour it will be simmering gently in my kitchen, filling the house with its sweet, oniony fragrance.

The ritual of making soup from garden-grown vegetables feels like one of life's simple but profound pleasures – a connection to the seasons, to the earth, and to the timeless comfort of a warm and nourishing bowl of leek and potato soup.

16/09/2025

# Cherry Blossoms in Christchurch

While cherry blossoms are undeniably synonymous with Japan, I can confidently say they have become equally emblematic of Christchurch. There's something truly magical about witnessing these delicate pink and white blooms transform our garden city into a breathtaking canvas each spring.

The most spectacular displays can be found at the Christchurch Botanic Gardens, where centuries-old trees create stunning archways of blossoms that seem to float like clouds against the crisp Canterbury sky. Just a short stroll away, Hagley Park North offers its own enchanting experience, particularly in the dedicated cherry blossom grove where families gather for picnics beneath the flowering canopies.

What makes this season so special is that we're currently experiencing the peak bloom period – that precious window of time when the trees are at their absolute most magnificent. The timing feels almost orchestrated by nature herself, as if the entire city has been waiting all year for this moment of pure beauty.

In Japan, this fleeting season is celebrated through hanami, the centuries-old tradition of flower viewing where friends and families gather beneath the blooming trees for picnics, sharing food, sake, and stories while contemplating the ephemeral beauty of the blossoms. This practice reminds us that cherry blossoms symbolize the transient nature of life – their brief but spectacular display teaching us to treasure each moment of beauty as it passes.

Here in Christchurch, I've noticed we've naturally adopted our own version of hanami. Families spread blankets beneath the flowering branches in Hagley Park, office workers take extended lunch breaks to wander through the Botanic Gardens, and photographers capture the perfect shot before the petals fall. Walking through these areas right now, with petals drifting gently in the breeze and carpeting the pathways in soft pink snow, I'm struck by how this Japanese appreciation for temporary beauty has found its home in our garden city, creating a bridge between cultures through shared wonder.

For anyone visiting or living here, this truly is the perfect time to immerse yourself in this seasonal wonder that rivals even the most famous sakura displays of Japan.

15/09/2025

I am continually fascinated by the remarkable ingenuity of the early settlers whenever I wander around this old farm and discover the everyday tools they crafted from whatever limited materials they had at hand. Each artifact tells a story of resourcefulness born from necessity, of minds that had to solve problems with nothing but skill, determination, and whatever raw materials the land could provide.

Just yesterday, I came across a pair of sheep shearing blades tucked away in the corner of the old shearing shed. The metal, though worn and darkened with age, still holds its edge remarkably well. Running my fingers along the rusty blade, I could almost feel the countless hours they spent in weathered hands, transforming unruly fleece into something useful. The balance of these tools speaks to a craftsman who understood not just metalwork, but the very motion of shearing itself—someone who knew that a day's work depended on tools that wouldn't tire the user's hands.

Near the old wooden wall, I discovered something even more intriguing: a sturdy wooden trolley fitted with iron wheels that have somehow survived decades of weather and neglect. The wheels bear the unmistakable marks of forge work—slightly irregular but incredibly durable, each one clearly shaped by hand rather than machine. The wood of the cart bed, though grayed and split in places, was clearly chosen with care. Someone selected this particular piece of timber, knowing it would need to bear heavy loads across uneven ground for years to come.

Both pieces are almost certainly the handiwork of the local blacksmith, a craftsman who would have been essential to the community's survival. I imagine him working by firelight and flame, heating iron until it glowed orange in the darkness, then shaping it with patient hammer blows. He would have understood that these weren't just tools—they were investments in the community's future, built to last through seasons of hard use because replacement wasn't simply a matter of ordering something new.

What strikes me most is how these early settlers had to be generalists in a way we can barely comprehend today. The same person who forged those iron wheels might have also known how to cure meat, build furniture, or deliver a calf. They couldn't specialize; survival demanded versatility. Every problem was an engineering challenge to be solved with whatever materials were within reach.

Standing here among these remnants of their daily lives, I feel a profound respect for their ability to create lasting solutions with so little. In our age of mass production and planned obsolescence, there's something deeply moving about holding a tool that was built not just to work, but to endure—and has proven that promise across generations.

The Whalers' Cottage

28/09/2025

26/09/2025

26/09/2025

26/09/2025

26/09/2025

25/09/2025

23/09/2025

23/09/2025

19/09/2025

18/09/2025

16/09/2025

15/09/2025

Address

Website

Alerts

Contact The Practice

Shortcuts

Share