As Good as They Get

My family came to New Zealand in 1968 from Herefordshire in England and bought a smallish property in Tasman. My father expanded it and when Transit New Zealand put the Ruby Bay bypass through the middle, I got some money so I was able to get a 400 acre farm in Upper Moutere. I have about 15,000 ewes and hoggets at the moment, and I run about twenty breeding cows. When I was leasing more land, I had nearly 193,000 sheep, but I’ve let most of the lease blocks. 

It’s been interesting, being a woman farming alone. I’m respected now that I’ve got grey hair, but it took a long time. When I started off, my father used to come to the stockyards and sit on the rail, just to let the stock agent know there was somebody in the background. I’ve tended to steer away from stock agents, dealing instead with the Alliance freezing works company.  

Years ago, I was invited to my friends Viv and Tony’s son’s wedding. I was worried that I wouldn’t know anybody, but Viv said, ‘My brother Vaughan will be there, I’m sure he’ll look after you.’ Vaughan declares he can’t remember this, but we were sat together. Every time I tried to talk to him, he just grunted. I thought he was an ignorant kind of bloke.  

Then Tony dropped dead unexpectedly in 2014. It was the day before shearing, so I said I’d help with the food. Viv said, ‘I’ll send Vaughan down to help.’ I thought, ‘Ugh, I don’t really want to see this Vaughan again. But he’s fond of his sister, and was obviously fond of Tony, so just button up and don’t be a bitch.’ Anyway, he arrived at the shearing shed, said something that made me laugh, and basically, we’ve been laughing ever since. 

Vaughan was an electronic engineer in Wellington. He’d been married in his early twenties, but steered clear of women ever since. He was very introverted, so I never saw him as a partner. I just enjoyed his company. He stayed down here to look after Viv for eight or nine months and I’d have them around for tea. We did a bit of tramping together and our friendship developed, but he had to go back to Wellington eventually. I cried, and he cried, and he said, ‘I’ll be back, you know.’ 

We kept in touch, and in 2019, he sold his house in Wellington and very bravely moved in down here. Both of us hadn’t lived with anybody for a long while, but we knew each other very well before we took the plunge. He’s very understanding and very kind, but what annoyed me most was he started reorganising my kitchen and I couldn’t find stuff. I told him that if he wanted to the cooking, that was fine. Otherwise, leave my kitchen cupboards alone.  

We haven’t really had a cross word the whole time we’ve been together. Vaughan is very good at soothing me down, because I can get a bit hot headed. He’s able to turn things around and make me laugh, which is lovely. One of the sweetest things he’s done is recently, when he was away for a bit, I found he’d hidden little bars of chocolate all around the house. He put them in all sorts of silly places so that if I was tidying up, I’d find one. Apparently, I haven’t found them all yet.  

We have our moments, of course. Farming is pretty stressful. It’s easy to get tired and not realise it’s because you’re tired that you’re grumpy. Vaughan has the ability to make me laugh when I’m grumpy. He likes fixing things, and I’m very good at breaking things.    

When I think back to my youth, I’m glad it’s passed me by. Vaughan and I are financially independent of each other, but we support each other wherever we can. The nicest thing is having a partner to share the evenings with. I come in at night in the winter and the house is warm, the firewood is in. He always thanks me for cooking dinner, even if it’s a disaster. We appreciate what each other does, and we let it be known. It’s nice to be appreciated – you so often take it for granted. I’m so lucky to have met Vaughan, and I won’t be trading him in for a better model – this is as good as they get.