olive oil and coffee

This morning we bagged the olives. (Note to self: attempting to lug 230kgs of olives up the stairs in ten sacks was stupid, stupid, stupid!) I didn't expect to be going too, and was ready to paint. The harvester, who shares my crop with me, looked shocked. Of course I was coming too. Quick change from painting trou and into some slightly more presentable shoes. As we waited outside for the truck to collect the olives the neighbours gathered. How many olives? Advice for this, advice for that. Sitting in the bus shelter surrounded by well-wishers my excitement of last year and processing my first real crop returned. By the time I got to the press I was as keen as anyone to see the official weight, to taste the oil. Despite the problems of getting the harvest done, I remembered why I love living here.

Ok, so I lasted only one week back here without taking a coffee - here one "takes" rather than "drinks" a coffee. I was offered one at the olive pressers and it seemed churlish to decline. And now the oil is home... yeehaa!!!! 41 litres of oil shared between me and the picker-pruner. This year it is sweet and smooth, the olives being more mature and the press being a modern one.
The olive press, 2009: Last year I really enjoyed the thick peppery oil (picked early and pressed the old-fashioned way).

Olive pressing, 2008:

Back at work the new system I have devised for the curved lines is working quite well. It wasn't so cold today, rain and no breeze off the snow. Now we are having storm warnings, so it is likely that my internet will disappear again. Don't worry, we'll still be here, Zacchi in front of the heater and Pickle licking up any drop of oil I might spill when putting a few litres into bottles.

Today I am grateful for secure scaffolding.

another two

One for an aussie child with kiwi links and a great-aunt who loves genealogy, and another for a kiwi who lives on a farm. I made a few alterations/improvements to "Ryan" and put a hat on the upright snake after this photograph, but forgot to photograph it again. Drat.

The second one, for Jacob, was framed with raised beading (painted white by the framer) next to the picture and a blue mat. It looked great. The colours are brighter than they appear here. It is my choice to leave the selecting of frames to the framers. They are the experts, and up-to-date with the trends. Sometimes I reserve the right to choose the mat.

I am looking forward to my two next works, although they will be in oil, not my beloved watercolour. But work is work, and to be passionate about it is a bonus!

:-)

i was sure i had mentioned

this occasion in a much earlier blog, but I can't find the reference to link back to. So here is the evidence, the crime and the self-imposed exile. Above: Drat! Caught again!
Below: If I can't see mum, she can't see me, right? Pickle has yet to learn that hiding under the table is not the right option when guilty of the same crime. (And no, the couch is not really that bright. It was the camera flash that changed it).

Today I am grateful for the olive harvest.

november photos

My work place in AutumnPalazzo garden from a window above
The messengers who drop good luck tokens on my car...
The main street

An early start to the NZ journey

and here they are...

The walls aren't really leaning... it must have been a hard day!



The process for the straight bits...

foties

coming. back at work, happily so.
more later

and a pukeko in a ponga tree

Merry Christmas, everyone. Tanti auguri a tutti.

Here is the Kiwi version of a well known Christmas song.

It could almost be a white Christmas... the snow is lower on the hills behind us than I have seen it before, and this morning the valley below was lost in a dense layer of white fluffy fog. Tonight will be colder. I am glad that it is weekend and I am not working in the open building. I'll pretend that it is Dunedin... it is still not as cold as it was the night we were racing at Forbury Park way back in the two children days.

Today I am grateful for cous cous and polenta, candles and warm fires.