i love the quiet
i mean it's usually quiet here but this quiet is different 
it has a depth & calm which is new
it's unhurried 
of course there is still the sound of the farm activity around us
& that motorbike - that one that really probably shouldn't be on the road telling by the noise it makes
this quiet lets you bask unhurriedly in the sun just a little longer than you would normally 

i love our conversation with the birds on our morning walk to the letter box
i love that they seem to be greeting us & at the same time demanding something so we obligingly floof the trees to release any insects that might be available & we chatter back & forth, back & forth while they weave & dance & dart around us

i love our food 
i love seeing all that deliciousness stacked up in the refrigerator waiting for the next meal
i especially love that a lot of the produce is from our own garden
all those delicious autumn harvest vegetables that just scream wellbeing to me

& honestly
i feel no different 
i don't feel anything has changed
i don't know that anything will change
i hope it does
i hope 'we' don't go back to normal 
i hope 'we' don't go back to the usual
​

hi 
how's it going ?

i’m staying close to home which for me is no different from usual 
i'm choosing not to think too much
i read updates once a day & trust that Hugh will tell me anything he thinks it's important i know 

i trust our prime minister & her staff to sort out the things they are responsible for

i'm learning new things - new embroidery things - in Spanish actually
fortunately there are subtitles some of which are hilarious, some unfathomable
i trust i will figure it out

i trust members of my whanau will let me know when, & if, they need me
i'm having a great time catching up with dad; in person with his groceries every 10 days & by phone every few days. we chat about life, lack of exercise & social contact & food - in particular the annoying lack of hogget & mutton available to buy - we're secretly hoping that suddenly it will be available again in the domestic market because the international market are not in a position to give a damn about importing sheep meat from NZ

i do not trust the staff at my closest countdown supermarket with my health & wellbeing 
i have decided that i will no longer shop there, instead, i will go to our local four square (& pharmacy should i need to)

i don’t like to think about it too much but i actually don’t trust the medical staff in our region & especially at our local hospital; most are poorly qualified to triage & most won’t cope in an emergency 
if, however, we end up needing them in an emergency i will have no choice but to trust that they will be able to figure it out

i trust that AirNZ will still exist after this & will remember they owe me credit for a couple of airfares

i trust that the greater majority of people will do exactly what is asked of them & stay at home

i hope that everyone has learnt to wash their hands properly 
i hope that everyone has learnt how important it is to not be out & about if they are unwell

​i hope that you all have a lovely Easter weekend
you know the drill
stay home
save lives
​& 
please be kind 
tino nui te mihi aroha ki a koutou katoa

Sal x
​ps smiling doesn't spread the virus 

pps links to the domestika classes I'm enjoying
https://www.domestika.org/en/courses/302-experimental-embroidery-techniques-on-paper
https://www.domestika.org/en/courses/548-embroidery-technique-with-the-stem-stitch
https://www.domestika.org/en/courses/711-introduction-to-raised-embroidery
& the cute rabbit is from ​https://www.mibo.co.uk

I’ve been boiling up tiny pieces of bark, small amount of leaves & abscissed branchlets from the only Tānekaha tree we have. 

The tree’s name is Nui - she’s named after our friend’s mum. In fact, we’re growing Nui for our friend who entrusted us with Nui as she doesn’t have ideal growing conditions at her own place for a forest tree.

We planted Nui as a long, skinny, fragile seedling who was so young her bark was greenish yellow. She's now about 6 years old & although her bark has changed & she's much larger than she was, she’s still not very big & she won’t be mature for many years yet. 

Tānekaha are not particularly common trees around our area so it’s been fun discovering things about Nui as we watch her grow. 

Tānekaha (Phyllocladus trichomanoides) is one of our native trees traditionally used for dyeing.
A tannin rich dye is able to be extracted from the bark & red/brown colours are obtained. Traditionally the fibres dyed were muka & after being removed from the dye bath the colour modified by rolling in wood ash.

My story isn’t about the dyeing process tho - it’s about the possibilities that opened up when we discovered that Tānekaha, & their close relative Toatoa, are in the habit of abscissing their leaves. 

When I started reading about this habit was when I realised the meaning of the Latin name of the tree which is when the story gets really interesting.

The leaves aren’t just your average photosynthesising leaves.
In fact the 'leaves' are not leaves at all - they are stem modifications. 
which got me wondering . . . 

Would it be possible to obtain colour from the abscissed leaves, which are dropped freely & frequently by the tree, rather than cutting off her bark ?!

The answer is yes. Yes it is.

Perhaps this is not the colour some would expect or want.
Perhaps it lacks the depth of colour that might be obtained from the bark.
Perhaps it will fade in time.
I don't care.

I had only the question - is it possible ? 
I am overjoyed to know that indeed it is possible. 
I will never strip bark from these trees - I don't need to.
I will celebrate the reciprocity I have with Nui.
I will cherish her & thank her often for encouraging me to be open to learning simply by dropping her leaves at my feet.
​
He taonga tuku iho
 
xxx