Maize harvesting at Ruakaka.
After that near-drought of a summer, autumn has delivered quite enough rain to last us for a while, thank you.
As I write, Cyclone Cook slips by just east of us, depositing another couple of inches of water on already boggy soil. Thankfully we missed the worst, unfortunately for regions south of us, they didn't.
But as we know with farming, it's all swings and roundabouts and our turn for drought, floods, plagues, or whatever else Mother Nature flings our way is no doubt just around the corner. That's the fun of farming - you can make as detailed a plan as you like for the year ahead, then climate, economy and human nature will conspire to stuff it all up.
I was concerned that our maize crop was going to be stuffed by the weather - it was all set for harvest, but another storm lurked on the horizon and the contractor proved hard to pin down - they get super busy at this time of year because everyone wants them on their farm at the same time, but they can't physically be in 20 places at once.
So you must take your place in the queue, wait patiently and hope the weather holds (and hope nobody is queue-jumping). It was a huge relief, the day before the storm was due to hit, to see the first truck full of maize turn into the driveway.
With record efficiency, the contractors had it all harvested and safely stowed in the bunker within 24 hours and we covered it as the rain began. Well, not me personally - but the 14-year-old boy did help, though he was dismayed by the wasp nests, rats, and filthy water in the tyres that hold down the silage covers and he came home stung, stained and with aching arms.
Our younger son had a lot more fun with the maize harvest - he drove with Bruce to the maize block to watch the harvester at work, and on the way they decided to pick up a young friend of his who lives nearby and take him along, too.
But they didn't tell young Kael where they were headed and, with Bruce's descriptions of "hungry machines", the poor boy was growing slightly apprehensive about being dragged off to a mystery destination.
"You're making me nervous," he told Bruce. He was relieved to find nothing more sinister than fields of maize and the harvesters, and the boys had enormous fun playing in the maize and riding in the harvester as it chewed its way through the crop.
While we've missed the worst of the weather that hit the rest of the country, there's been enough rain to make everything soggy and make us a little nervous about what winter holds - sometimes autumn has felt a lot more like mid-July.
We've been autumn calving too, so it's felt like a little preview of spring calving. The bad weather and long days are challenging enough, but throw in a few tricky calvings and sick cows and the difficulty level escalates.
Yesterday Bruce was keeping an eye on a cow in the early stages of calving. By the time he made his last rounds at night, she was definitely having trouble.
Sometimes he can calve quiet cows in the paddock, but this girl was a little too frisky, so he brought her into the yards, secured her in the vetting race and wrapped rope around himself and the large hooves of the imminent arrival, all set for some hard labour.
Unfortunately, despite all his preparatory work, he'd forgotten to check the headbail was secure. The cow pushed it with her head, stepped through the gap to freedom and, with Bruce held securely at her rear, pondered her next move.
A cold wave of panic washed over her helpless prisoner as the cow trotted briskly into the darkness. But as she rounded the shed corner, she slipped on the concrete and fell, taking her captive down with her.
Maybe the jolt moved things along, but luckily for Bruce, the now-prone cow decided to get down to business and let him help her. When he finally delivered her of a huge bull calf with an enormous head, I'm not sure which of the three creatures was the most relieved.¦