The Significance of Wickcliffe Blessington

In keeping with the usual practice of including reader comment, here is a humorous little story resulting from the January BLOG…

“Great blog this month. Here is a scenario. At the school gala, grandma is quietly and very secretly handing people little slip of paper with an address on it. In the dead of night a trail of unlit push bikes (with baskets on the front no less) are observed heading to and from this suburban address, avoiding the roads, stopping behind trees when a car comes, etc. Some suspicious person calls the police. They come and stop one of the bike riding ‘suspects’. “Please madam, would you show me what is under the tea towel in your basket?” And there, for all to see and smell, is some freshly baked biscuits AND a couple of jars of homemade jam!!!!!!

Mmmmmmmm----- haven’t we turned the clock back to the prohibition days!!!!!!!!  Just replaced the grog with fresh, wholesome, healthy food!”

And subsequently we saw an article in the NZ Herald  by Kate Wilkinson the Food Safety Minister where she reiterated, “that the Food Bill does not affect people growing or making food for their own consumption, or giving it away or swapping it with friends or neighbours.” Apparently the legislation was designed to be “…flexible, to promote innovation and minimize red tape and bureaucracy for producers…” That just has the feel of a Tui Yeah Right billboard doesn’t it?

Changing the subject to a more sombre note, on Waitangi weekend we had to euthanize one of our mares,  Wickcliffe Blessington (Bliss). It certainly was not an easy decision and of course the hardest part was watching her foal come to grips with the fact that her mother was not going to get up again.

Bliss was an Irish Hunter mare. Her full brother, Wickcliffe Brannigan is a top Grand Prix show jumper. We bred both and they carried important thoroughbred and Irish Draught bloodlines. Their dam carried the old fashioned thoroughbred Battle Wagon / Head Hunter lines. Their sire was the grand Irish Draught, Kingsway Diamond.

To many of you reading this, those names won’t mean much however in many ways they represent our philosophy in breeding a New Zealand sport horse type. They are old fashioned names but in the case of Kingsway Diamond, still a strong and current influence in sport horses, especially 3 day eventing and showjumping. The thoroughbred lines will only resonate with those who know something of thoroughbreds in New Zealand and who have been around for a while. It is the ‘type’ of thoroughbred that was a significant influence in the helcian days of NZ’s success in eventing on the international stage. They were tough both physically and mentally. They were courageous and they usually had something of an attitude.

Head Hunter was by name and nature. I recall in chat with a union adversary a few years back discovering a common interest in horses. I had mentioned the breeding of a mare we had and he was excited to know anyone knew the name of Head Hunter. His father had stood the Stallion when he was but a boy and he dreaded going into the stable to feed this horse…Head Hunter would quite literally have your head if he could.

The dam represents another part of our life. She was given to us by dear friends. And both Bliss and Brannigan were bred from a service to Kingsway Diamond, given to us by a great horseman, the late Dr John Hernon. John was an Irish vet who married a New Zealand Nurse and came back to NZ to live and practice. The services were a trade for the use of another of our mares to breed.

John was something akin to sport horse royalty in NZ. He was a big man. A well respected horseman, vet and gentleman. His major claim to fame was that for the two John Wayne western films shot in Ireland, he and his brother were the stunt doubles for John Wayne. He was from County Wicklow, not far from the Blessington Lakes.

For some reason John took a shine to us…perhaps we shared the same passion and belief in the Irish horse. Whatever the reason, we felt privileged with the friendship. John unfortunately got cancer a few years back and after a while his wife was unable to manage their horses, so they all came our way until we were able to find homes for them. His beloved Mooncoin stayed with us with John competing her. We visited the village of Mooncoin in Ireland a couple of years ago.

Brannigan was sold as a colt at 2 years of age to a young fella. He had a dream and had been looking for several years for the right colt to compete as a sport horse and eventually establish a breeding operation. We were hesitant because we had never heard of him in equestrian circles. I don’t know what it was exactly, but he won us over and a great partnership between the two began.

Unfortunately Brannigan could not be kept as a stallion because as such he could not be kept with other horses. But in this was a significant sign. As a youngster he was put in a paddock with a couple of wise older mares to learn his place and some manners. However Brannigan would not back down. He had to be rescued from the paddock because even when ‘beaten’ he would not submit and would have been killed standing his ground. He was gelded and the chance of continuing his blood line lost.

Blessington was a heavier horse than her brother with an excellent nature and we were keen to keep her for breeding. Although we held on to Blessington for a while longer, we had too many horses and eventually she went to a new owner who had her broken in and was going to ride her. We are not sure of the circumstances or what happened exactly but discovered some time later that Bliss was languishing on a farm in the King Country. We had her collected and being too old to develop as a competitive sport horse, she came home as a broodmare. We tried for several seasons to get her in foal, firstly to the magnificent Holsteiner Lansing and when that failed, to Jody Heartstone’s Whisper. It seemed AI wasn’t going to work. So we looked for a local stallion for a natural service which resulted in the birth this season of Wickcliffe Berrigan. Bliss was a superb mother and we were making plans for sending her to either a thoroughbred or Holstiener stallion next season.

Berrigan was two months old when I went out to the paddock in the morning to feed the two mares and their foals and realised something was seriously wrong with her mother. The vet came quickly but not even surgery would save her and so we put her to sleep.

We left Berrigan with her for a while and when she seemed to come to terms with the death of her mother we moved her back into the paddock she had been sharing with the other mare and her foal. That other foal had stood by the fence watching her all the time they were separated. Berrigan then stood at the gate staring at her inert mother until a friend came with the digger to bury Blessington.

The mare and foal stood with Berrigan as did I, watching as Bliss was buried after which they all left for elsewhere in the paddock with Berrigan calling periodically. With her now rests the responsibility of carrying significant and important bloodlines and an even greater responsibility with us to nurture and grow her and give her every opportunity to be everything her noble ancestors would expect.

Of note is that we had the choice to put Blessington quietly to sleep to end her pain. The Vet didn’t tell us what to do. He gave us all the clinical observations and choices. I guess our experience and understanding had a lot to do with it, but we made the choice. You may understand why it was very tempting for us to spend great deal of money, prolong her agony, and subject to her to all sorts of pointless interventions hoping there was a very slim chance she would survive.

I sincerely hope that when that time comes in my life our society has matured to the extent that such a decision can be made for me.

Both my parents died of cancer. Mum nursed Dad at home for just over six months. There was a point in time when Dad could no longer get up or look after himself at all. He simply wasted away. Mum fought cancer for seven and a half years. When she got the diagnosis, she was remarkably understanding and organised. She got the news in October, was told to have a family gathering at Christmas and say good bye. She was organised and prepared.

The chemical cocktail certainly gave her a couple of years of good life and she was a model of determination and hope to all those around her. Unfortunately that cocktail had other effects. When she felt her independence and dignity slipping away she starved herself however we got her into care and long story short and sometime later, without any of the things so dear to her, she died calling angrily to be let go.

Dear God, if that time comes for me, don’t let what happened to my Mother and Father happen to me…think of me as a horse.

Criminal Bakers & Mysterious Magic to Lower the Price of Milk

My last BLOG in December prompted a few responses, one noting “…love to read your blog and this also has arrived at a time when I too have reason to pause, reflect and be extremely grateful.  Thanks for the nudge.”

Another had their faith in the upbringing of their family endorsed when they got this note from their son: “We are not going to be up for this Xmas, after a dismal winter we just  aren't in any position to attempt it, trust me, this is not what we'd hoped. On a brighter note, (we) are continuing the ever-so family tradition of over-doing it on Xmas visitors for dinner, we've invited the Ni-Van (Vanuatu) boys I work with to spend Christmas Day at our house! There is only Ten of them, after all. It just didn't sit right that the only Kiwi they get to know, and work with every day, leaves them to their own devices for Christmas when they are all far from home and loved ones, especially when we are feeling far from our loved ones this year too. So I didn't. They are coming round, we'll whack a few chooks in the oven, our own new potatoes, then into the trifle, Ice cream, Pumpkin Pie, a few drinks (soft- they are on 'dry' contracts) and Bob's your proverbial. ”

A long-time friend tells me, “The lodges in NZ are failing, I will not go into the background of all that in this letter but a lot of it is due to present government actions in loading small community groups with punitive compliance costs, a group of elderly folk cannot afford $25,000 registration and audit fees and survive for more than a few years.  YET, I find it ironic that the same regulatory officials cannot hold control over the big financiers who strip people of life savings and spend Christmas, on bail, in their mansions in OZ!!  ‘Nuff said??”

‘Golly, it’s a political fish in jackboots’ was the headline for Alan Emerson’s column in the NZ Farmers Weekly early in January. Alan was handing out his ‘Emies’. The Fairy Godmother Award went to the judge who agreed with former Hanover boss Mark Hotchin that. “…having to live on $1,000 a week was clearly too low. This was after Hanover collapsed owing investors $465m.’ Alan suggested “…most Kiwis with the obvious exception of the judiciary and Hotchin would happily live on $1,000 a week.”

His Irrelevance Award is for the Government’s cabinet rankings where Agriculture drops and becomes primary industries at No11 behind tourism, transport, ethnic affairs, arts, culture and heritage and youth affairs. Tourism and Agriculture see-saw as being our top revenue generators, but without exception Agriculture is most consistently the major exporter and significant contributor to our economy helping pay for those other portfolios. Go figure.

Apart from the fact that we have far more significant things to worry about, the government has had law drafters beavering away making up legislation to make illegal one of the foundation activities in our communities. Schools and churches are examples of the community groups who use events like gala days and garden parties to raise money to simply exist.

The quality of our education is enhanced with various fundraising activities where the community come along and show their support and buy things. What they buy is a lot of produce grown, jams, pickles and the like. Lovely homemade stuff that many of us don’t seem to have either the time or skill to make for ourselves.Well that is all about to end because it will be illegal for you to whip up a batch of scones with Grandma’s famous recipe, then sell them at the school calf club gala day.

I could understand it if the school car parks were littered with the bodies of those sick and dying from having consumed one of those scones.  If that were the case I imagine we would have read quite a bit about that in local papers at least. What we have been reading about is over 11,000 cases of some kind of dog attack on people, most often children, which has resulted in over $12million dollars of tax payers money being paid out to victims in the last 12 months. I thought that might be a bit more of an issue to deal with than making law to prosecute me for making & selling my Grand Marnier Marmalade or John’s Zucchini Relish for the benefit of our village school.

I also thought this proliferation of attacks might warrant more of a response than the proposed solution… ‘Let’s spend less time in school teaching children how to read, write and count and teach them dog sense instead’…..Pleeease!

The other matter which I thought might warrant a bit more applied thinking is that which makes NZ an unsafe place for children. It seems I have to go through a more rigorous vetting for suitability to rehome a rescued dog than a human breeder does who decides to have a child then, if they don’t kill them,  completely abdicate their responsibility for that child’s safety and wellbeing. When that responsibility is abdicated, a government department has to pick up the pieces. And woe betides them if they should fail in any way.

Rather than deal with the root cause, we satisfy ourselves by lashing the agency publically, and if we can find an individual in that agency to pin the blame on, we can relax knowing that justice has been done and all children are now safe. Who should be thinking seriously about that? Oh, that’s right, they are all busy thinking up laws to prosecute old Mrs B. who makes beautiful sponges to be sold for all manner of community fund raising activities.

And for the third leg of my bureaucratic nonsense trifecta, let’s look at the latest attempt to reduce the price of milk. The government has decided to make Fonterra sell more of its milk to its competitors.

You may recall when Fonterra was formed the government required them to sell some of their milk supply to their production competitors to ensure a competitive domestic milk supply. What happened? Well, the competitors, now assured of a supply of milk without having to invest in a supply infrastructure, turned it into milk powder for export because that was much easier to do and far more lucrative than bottling milk and selling it domestically.

So what exactly do you think they are going to do with their increased allocation? Apparently the government knows – this new intervention is going to magically lower the retail price of domestic milk….Yeah Right!

In a related vein, permission has been granted for a foreign consortium to buy the Crafar farms on the condition the government owned enterprise Landcorp manage them. And are they going to turn all this milk production into local lower priced milk? Hell no. They are going to work with other foreign partners to produce value added milk products and export them.

The logic of all this fails me, but never mind, oops there goes another kid to the emergency department with a dog hanging off its face and oops, there is a child and family social worker picking up another abused kid to try and organise a  safe life for them. Oh my goodness what’s that flashing by? It’s a food inspector off to the school gala day, complete with blue flashing light and warbling siren, to arrest Granny B for selling her famous scones and sponges to help raise funds to refurbish the swimming pool, so they can teach kids how not to drown.

The relationship between my nose and being blessed

I recently experienced a bit of a low patch and made some grumpy decisions, one of which was, I didn’t want to go to work. That weekend, I shouted myself a coffee in a café in our village and set about gathering my thoughts. Between feeling sorry for myself and being angry, something my mother used to talk about came charging in through my thoughts. It is a saying you don’t hear much these days, understandable really because I imagine there would be a lot of nose-less people around. ‘Cut your nose off to spite your face’.

And as fate would have it, I turned to the horoscopes in the Herald and among other things, like telling me where certain planets were right then, mine suggested it would be to my advantage to be ‘less self-absorbed’.

So I ordered more coffee and a savoury muffin, stared into space and let my mind run… and what popped up first was the message I had received recently from a friend who is undergoing Chemo. “Getting better on the sicko side of things, gradually reducing the anti-nausea drugs which were scrambling my brain to say the least, but at least did their work. The actual chemo side of things was really uplifting I have to say.  What an amazing bunch of women, most with husbands, chatting, laughing, sharing experiences, wigs and their hair regrowth, together with copious amounts of home-baking which circulated on the tea trolley many times – I’m going to relearn some baking – and all so very positive that my dread was immediately allayed.   All very comfortable, and the copious amounts of mind-altering drugs certainly controlled what they needed to, even if I would have been a danger on the roads for a couple of days”.

I had rested my head on my hand and was wiping some darn moisture collecting in the corner of my eyes when I felt my nose. It was still there after an earlier attempt to cut it off to spite my face. How lucky I was to still have it.

So as self-absorption gave way to reflection, I came to the conclusion that not only am I lucky, but I have also enjoyed some great privileges. One of those is being a Judge of Franklin’s Finest. This is an annual event organised by our local district community newspaper, the Franklin County News. The community nominates people for a variety of awards such as Volunteer; Community Worker; Mentor/Leader and Junior Achiever.  There are nine awards in all. We Judges, independently of each other, assess and rank nominations to determine who will receive the awards. I get to read many stories of self-less service and achievements often over great odds.

Another privilege is my involvement with the Royal Agricultural Society of NZ. Recently at the Royal Show in Hamilton I watched the Junior Judging finals. 10 young men and women ages 15 to 25 judge sheep fleece; sheep; dairy and beef cattle. There is a winner for each section and an overall winner who gets sponsored to compete in the finals with the Australians. These youngsters were clearly passionate about agriculture and were prepared to put their judgements on the line and explain their decisions confidently to the Exec Councillors of the RAS. They were simply inspiring and great positive examples of committed and driven youth. Also at conference earlier in the year we witnessed the finals of the Rural Young Achiever, and it was my privilege to make a presentation to the winner on behalf of the Franklin A & P Society, a major sponsor of the award.

A month or two back, I caught up with one of my brothers at the airport. He was on his way to the Islands to follow up on work after the Tsunami. He had been organising teams of tradesmen from Wanganui to help a small village rebuild. This initiative has continued on because the aid didn’t reach them. They all give of their time, resources and expertise for a week or so at a time and proudly boast that every cent they raise goes only and directly to the village.

And again recently I had the privilege to represent my employer at the First Foundation Scholarship Awards in Auckland. The first scholarships, three in fact, were awarded in Auckland in 1998. That night 28 from Auckland and 1 from Rotorua were awarded.  I was there to present our scholarship to AJ. It was a humbling experience, firstly meeting AJ, her parents, her uncle and aunt. They were clearly very proud indeed.

Individual presentations were made to groups of 7 recipients. After each group, they stood behind a selected scholar who spoke about their journey and aspirations and thanked everyone on behalf of their peers. All were exceptional speakers and one young Maori man, clearly already an accomplished Maori orator told his story in a style which rivalled that of the guest speaker Eric Rush who provided an amusing but message filled interlude.

More recently, as Chairman of the Franklin Family Support Trust, I Chaired our AGM which also showcased entertainment by local young talent. These included a young singer who is a Franklin Finest finalist, a Hip Hop Dancer who has won against 300 other competitors in the USA and youngsters from a local primary school Kapa Haka group who did well representing Auckland in a national competition.

The staff of the Trust were acknowledged, all who give way more than what they are paid to do, as were volunteers who among other things have driven people to hospital and doctor appointments for many, many years. And I introduced the Trustees, from whom I learn a great deal. One of those has a QSM which acknowledges years of community service.

When I think of all those youngsters who had no special advantage (often disadvantaged); of all of those people who give so much of their time and skill voluntarily, and of the spirit and courage of the person undergoing cancer treatment I have nothing to feel sorry about. And should I be inclined to want to ‘cut my nose off to spite my face’ I don’t have far to look for motivation, inspiration, leadership, colleagueship and friendship.

I am indeed blessed and I hope, at this time when peace and goodwill should dominate our thinking, you too find blessings to count.

Gen Y, Aston Martin, Twitter and a Goal

Thanks to the reader who sent the following in response to the last BLOG ‘The Happy PIace – Employee or Employer Responsibility’. I think that as ‘Generation Y’ are moving into businesses they are somewhat egotistical – they expect all the rewards without putting the hard work in, and they reach management positions without understanding what it means to behave like a leader (I say this slightly hypocritically, as I am categorised as ‘Generation Y’ myself).

You also mentioned, ‘Those who seek to be employed who do not have a refined sense of their personal responsibility in this ‘community’ should be avoided like the plague’, again I wholeheartedly agree. … I think it is very important to employ those who will add to the business and brand – rather than just hastily enhance their own career as quickly as possible. I reflected on a quote by Plato – I don’t remember the exact phrase, but he spoke about the behaviour of teenagers and mentioned that the previous generation always questioned their morals, motivations and general conduct. The generational divide has frustrated society for hundreds of years – so I am not concerned that ‘Generation Y’ are any different in that respect. I’m positive that my grandparents thought the same of my parents actions, and so forth. So we shouldn’t worry that ‘Generation Y’ are a shocking new breed of humanity.”

It seems out of character that the above comments should come from a Gen Y, and I guess proves the point that we should exercise great caution when attempting to corral groups or cohorts together for the convenience of type casting. Anyone who reasons like this is already demonstrating leadership and I would be happy to hire more of those regardless of their generation. The last sentence or two remind us that we are not dealing with a unique nor modern phenomenon. So why do we continue to be surprised as generation by generation the same phenomenon is experienced?

One of the phenomenon’s of this generation is the connectedness through social media. I have valiantly tried to do my bit with my Facebook. I just can’t get the hang of Twitter and am inclined to agree with a commentator that it is mindless babble. I don’t think I’ll get into that. I find enough mindless babble on Facebook but it is nice to keep up with those I care about by just clicking in.

And in a more ‘professional’ way I am connected via Linked In, although that is a little embarrassing. You see I set up an account early in the piece, didn’t note the key bits of information and proceeded to forget completely about it. Eventually I set up another but started to get invitations to link via the original account which I can’t answer –embarrassing. No self-respecting Gen Y would do that. And speaking of mindless babble, a change of subject and focus for a moment. I find as I get older I am more aware of my own mortality. I thought I had death all sorted…I had set a strategic goal…I would drop dead (and the age doesn’t matter greatly)  at the dinner table, preferably in a nice restaurant, face first into a plate just after a magnificent desert, having enjoyed a great but far too much of a meal, and wine in the company of wonderful people.

However more recently I had just finished reading a magazine whilst having coffee in Rangiora which prompted the prospect of a second option, that of death at high speed in a fantastic performance car. The magazine was an offshoot of the TopGear programme and the boys were test driving some of the fastest production cars.

Petrol head Jeremy was singing the praises of the Aston Martin Vantage V12 although he did say you could get almost the same value for £80,000 less with the Aston Martin DBS V8. Whether I am able to even afford to think about owning one is something of a moot point, let alone finding myself seriously weighing up whether or not to spend another £80,000 to buy the Vantage rather than the DBS.

I have had to revise my plan, damn it! If any sort of Aston Martin is to be an option then the first plan will have to go on hold for a while. You see I will need to work much longer. Which means I’ll have to live much longer, which means an irresponsible disregard for my personal health will have to change to avoid any risk of an early achievement of option one, my till now strategic goal for death.

Oh the dilemma…and if that’s all I’ve got to worry about, this can only mean my missed GenY period has caught up with me.

Crap! Well I better get on with it.

The ‘Happy Place’ – Employee or Employer Responsibility?

This BLOG began to write itself immediately after the last, ‘The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work’.

A long-time friend sent me recollections of commuting in Wellington. He writes, “Dear Geoff, know what you mean by the rail peoples.  It was just the same back in the 1950's, we would board a freezing cold 1930 style carriage at Taita and usually after two stops our then "group" was complete, two sets of facing seats.  I got my first girl-friend that way, it did not work out but that is the way of such things is it not?

Later with Jane and I from Porirua the same thing happened. One of the train guards was so fond of Jane that when I told him she had died he burst into tears!!!  He had problems with a lady who got on at Plimmerton on Mondays to go into town to live in an apartment there and always tried to pay him with a $50 bill for the single trip. That usually meant she got a freebie as he could never make the change.  One day we had the cash from a church gala and gave him enough so he could give her change all in 20c pieces!!!  That was the last time she tried that.” 

There has since been a lot of comment about the commuter who just did her job and went home feeling nobody noticed she had been there. It appears to have been an astounding revelation. One reader noted, “In some ways it’s sad that people don’t enjoy it (work). You should really see your work place like family, you spend more time there than at home.  Then again some families don’t get along at all.”

The research about the benefits of a positive working culture is vast and in fact comes into the category of being a no brainer. But just how responsible is the employer to provide staff with their ‘Happy Place’ and what is the individual’s responsibility?  How might you respond to someone who felt that it was not their responsibility to help develop a positive culture in their organisation?  Perhaps as a friend suggested… ‘Let's have a strategy to be the worst place to work.  Let's try to beat the Lybian military model.  We can refit for appalling working conditions, drop wages, invent a totally new concept, I think we would call it industrial relations where we would win if we were so awful staff decided to withdraw their labour in protest.  We could get rid of the coffee machines, have enforced start times, fixed morning and afternoon tea and lunch breaks and we could fire one person a week just for fun’. 

For communities to work well, everyone involved has to contribute and take responsibility to ensure the community succeeds. It seems to me it is part of the deal of belonging. How can you ignore those responsibilities? Or perhaps in this age of focus on the individual, we are forgetting communal etiquette and simply don’t know how to behave? 

In an article in The Independent (repeated in a Sunday Herald), Gerard Gilbert interviews Elizabeth McGovern who plays Lady Cora in the global TV hit Downton Abbey. Gilbert asks how she explains the show’s success. She explains, “My contemporary brain finds it very relaxing, looking at an age when everybody knows how to behave because the rules are very clear. There’s something very stressful about today’s world, when people are allowed to behave how they want. You’re always having to make choices and judgement calls about how to behave, whereas in the world of Downton Abbey everybody knows what’s expected of them.” 

This represents the tussle I always experience, first with myself and then with the organisations in which I am working at the time. The earlier times when rules, policies, rank and status prevailed, choices were limited and not much thinking was involved – just check the rulebook/policy manual. I reject that and have advocated quite literally the burning of policy manuals and the establishment of a common code to run parallel with the organisation purpose. Such a model respects those who participate and they in turn not only take individual responsibility for their actions, but actively contribute to the maintenance and development of a positive culture. 

In the Randstad World of Work report 2011/12 in New Zealand, the majority of employers surveyed say increasing workplace productivity and performance is their single biggest human capital challenge. They see it important to unlock workforce productivity. In the survey employees report moderate levels of happiness, and affirm the principles of meaningful work – recognition and flexicurity (flexibility and job security). 

To achieve high performance employers will need to deploy the well-known strategies to engage their staff, to create their ‘happy place’ at work. But in my opinion, the winners will be those organisations which employ people who see they have a personal responsibility to build and maintain that happy place. Those who seek to be employed who do not have a refined sense of their personal responsibility in this ‘community’ should be avoided like the plague.