Roughing it on the farm...

Despite the warmth of last nights fire, and hopping into my sleeping bag wearing no less than 3 layers on bottom, 4 layers on top, 2 pairs of sock, a buff and a hat, I think last night was the coldest yet. Waking up unable to feel my toes meant I had to do something to warm up!Behind the wood shed is a large hill, currently grazing roughly 10 calves, and so this was my challenge of the morning. With the cold air making my wheezy chest worse than normal, it took longer than I had hoped, but I got up there and the views were fantastic looking out over the various bays, across the farm paddocks, with the sun providing the perfect backdrop. It was nice to have the opportunity to do this today, what with starting later at 10ish.Chris was off into town that morning, but was delayed so we took a quick trip down to the beach. A brief look around and we headed back off to the house to find out the volunteer work for the day!Off down the track and we were set about as a small group to collect and prepare a pile of debris of flame tree remnants to keep them from regrouping as shards into trees. We had to do so as the trees are not seen as native and therefore need to be removed from the conservation area. An hours work and time to head back to camp. The five of us volunteers in our group jumped in the truck and instead of driving again myself as I had to bring the truck down to the paddock, Becky hopped in the drivers seat and attempted to drive a manual - a foreign concept to the Americans. A couple of sharp stalls and we were on our way. Kevin half into the trailer section of the truck and a brief anxiety attack and we sped off across the paddock. Meeting the gate where the land was poached and pugged, I told Becky to floor it to prevent a stall or hill top/start, another look of fear from Kevin, the longest mile of my life in the truck and we were back with the others.Chris invited us back up to the House for a cuppa and a chat of spiritual and political Maori, pakeha, and redneck culture matters. He offered to take us up to a local Pa site. (past Maori tribe village) we walked over the headland to the site and more matters of maori past was a treat, getting an eye for the lay of the land and the ways of such past lifes.Warming up walking the hills saw time for a swim - but it was too cold for me! So I headed off to the campsite shower over the hill (couple of miles away) and had THE single coldest shower of my life open to the elements. Meeting a local yachtsman and his companion. A brief chat and then back off to our wool shed. A cold night, a nice mexican dinner, and another campfire await me, so I am off to spend the evening with the others.