How?
The answer came We have no clue
But of course it is your problem’
Which is why they sang the blues
The Help Line
I’m looking at my orchard and I’m feeling quite depressed
With the steadily encroaching PSA
The warnings sent from KVH and ZESPRI and the rest
Are taking all my peace of mind away
Should I spend a lot more money, that in fact I haven’t got
To spray my vines with copper yet again
Or do I hope for weather not too cold and not too hot
And pray we don’t get hit with wind and rain?
It all became too much for me last week so finally
I dialled up the Help Line on my phone
The soothing answer service played a classic symphony
And reassured me I was not alone
It gave me quite a list of numbers I could choose between;
Push 1 if you fear suicide is near
Push 2 for housing problems and push 3 for money woes
Push 4 for our new legal volunteer
Push 5 for anorexia and 6 for pregnancy
Push 7 for relationship discord
Push 8 for claustrophobia and 9 for OCD
Push 10 now for a pastor, praise the Lord!
I sighed, pushed button 1, then it transferred me with express
To a centre based offshore in Pakistan
They asked if I could drive a truck and when I answered yes,
With great excitement said I was their man
It seems they had a job for me, but didn’t mention pay
Of course I’d have to travel over there
I didn’t go, as it would only be for half a day
And I couldn’t raise the dough to buy the fare
So I’m looking at my orchard and I’m feeling quite depressed
I need a boost of funds to change my luck
But it’s money down the drain again, oh bother.
The Orchardist's Lament
I'm an orchardist and I'm okay
I sleep all night and I work all day
I dress in old torn clothes and boots
I prune my vines and I feed their roots
I spray for pests and I weed and mow
I bring in bees so the fruit will grow
I girdle trunks and I girdle canes
I put up shelter and I dig out drains
I seldom stop for a cup of tea
As I try to win the lottery
My neighbour does the same and yet
His fruit was Y while I'm in debt!
Three Tier Farming
I see that down in Marlborough
Where the grapes are grown for wine
They are using guinea pigs to graze
The grass beneath the vines
These furry pets are cheap to house
The grass provides the feed
And guinea pigs are known
For their ability to breed
Now though at first this concept seems
A little hard to take
It's proving so successful that
It can't be a mistake
I thought that I would have a go
Upon my orchard here
But then a flash of genius
Brought me a great idea
To keep the guinea pigs in check
I'd bring in herds of mink
The benefits of these would be
Tremendous – don't you think?
The minks would eat the guinea pigs
Who'd eaten up the weeds
Then their fur would be a bonus
Source of income that we need
And if by chance the market
Falls for mink, like all the rest
Well, what the heck, at least when I
Went out I'd be well dressed
Waiting for Kiwifruit Picking
Well the silly season’s started and the phone is ringing hot
Are my brixes up to six point two?
Can I pick or not?
What about the weather?
Will it frost or hail or rain?
Will my antiquated tractor blow a gasket once again?
Do I have a gang of pickers?
Can I issue them with bags?
Are there drinks to give them energy when they begin to flag?
Is there chalk enough to mark the bins stacked neatly in the yard?
Will the truck negotiate the hill or will it be too hard?
Will my fruit all be rejected with proximity and scale?
Will my overdraught increase until we all end up in jail?
Will the lucky fellow down the road who picked his fruit last week
Kindly take the grin from off his face and not attempt to speak!
I cannot stand the stress and strain of waiting day by day
What’s that ? I’ve passed at six point two!
Great! I’m on my way.
What Will the Matter Be?
Oh, dear, what can the matter be?
Dear, dear, what should the matter be?
All that it matters is what will the matter be?
Y, T, R, M, who can choose?
My neighbour is Y and he's buying an Audi
He doesn't care whether it's sunny or cloudy
He's booking an overseas cruise
The bloke down the road grew a huge crop of grade T
He spent several thousand improving his canopy
Most of it went to advisors who disagree
He'll buy a new pair of shoes
The chap up the valley, his crop was all R grade
His wife has a stall at the gate selling lemonade
All of his contractors hope that they'll be paid
He hasn't got much left to lose
One grower I heard of, his fruit was all M and
So covered in scale that from export it was banned
He's taking the kiwifruit out back to bare land
And drowning his sorrows in booze
Wintertime
Icy finger, icy toes
Dripping branches, dripping nose
Thunder, lightning, wind and rain
Muddy puddles, flowing drains
Sludgy paddocks, snow and sleet
Chapped lips, chilblains, frozen feet
Chills and coughs and colds and sneezes
Windscreen frosted, engine seizes
Boots, umbrella, coat and hat
Socks and slippers, thermostat
Brandy, aspirin, aching head
Soup and crumpets, cosy bed
Telly, book and magazine
Chapstick, Vicks and Vaseline
Phone call, boyfriend, skiing – fine
Give three cheers for Wintertime!