A sunny Saturday afternoon

It’s a gorgeously sunny Saturday afternoon, and summer feels almost here – at last. The kids are playing on the grass – they’ve made a makeshift bath in the wheelbarrow, filled with petals from the camellia. The cows were in the paddock in front too, but they’ve just headed in for afternoon milking. I realise, embarrassed, that it’s the first time Willoughby has really felt the grass in her hands, but it has been such a wet spring – just as she has come into her age of adventuring – and days like this have been few and far between.

It was my childhood imagining to live on a farm and have four kids. But I don’t think I thought about where. Mike and I met in Longreach – a town of 2,000 people in far western Queensland, 1,400km west of Brisbane. I remember the first time we met, talking about the price of milk solids and how different the dairy industry was across the Tasman. I don’t think I ever imagined living on a dairy farm in New Zealand – the dairy farmer I knew as a child lived on meat and three veg, and only had one holiday in twenty years. But I also thought Mike was the most handsome bloke I’d ever seen and wondered where he’d been hiding all this time – in small towns like Longreach, you know which faces you’ve seen and who the new ones are. I also knew from that first conversation there was something special about him. My housemates said, “Don’t get tied up with him, he’s going back to New Zealand.” But I decided to see where things might lead, and so here we are, twelve years on and three kids later (with another on the way), living on his family dairy farm in the Horowhenua. It’s not been a straight line and there’ve been a few tears and ups and downs along the way – but being with your best mate only gets better with time.

I was thinking about how this edition is full of stories of seizing opportunities. From romantic love showing up in unexpected places – like Nikki talking about her arrival in Motupōhue Bluff and how a chance meeting in the pub led to her now calling the town at the southern edge of Aotearoa home, to Arpége – one of the wonderful wāhine behind many Shepherdess projects – who speaks of falling in love when she least expected it.

Opportunities show up in many forms – Raymond, an artist and photographer, shares his memories of a school trip as a teenager, and how saying yes to an artist residency in the high country took considerable courage but has led to friends for life. To Kate, who purchased an old winery and apple cider vinegar factory in Marlborough – just before the global financial crisis hit – and talks about finding a way through and then applying those lessons in later years. Or Kylie, who has had all sorts of adventures – from leading expeditions in Greenland to skiing to the South Pole, to now flying a floatplane in Te Anau.

Summer and just beyond are bringing to life some mahi that we’ve been planning for a little while. One you know about – The Shepherdess Muster, which we’ve been working on with the community of Tokanui, Murihiku Southland for well over a year now – is taking place in the heart of The Catlins from 6-8 March 2026. Join us – I promise you it will be a special weekend! More than one woman who came to The Muster last year has said it was life changing. There’s another project that we have been working on throughout the year but haven’t been able to tell you about – yet. We have been travelling up back roads across Aotearoa, spending time with women and their whānau for a podcast we are producing in collaboration with RNZ. More on that in the new year – we are so looking forward to sharing it with you. In the meantime, sending all good things and beautiful opportunities your way this summer.

Kristy

Glossary. Wāhine, women. Whānau, family. Mahi, work.