
Goats' appetite for thistles produces many benefits
Mid Canterbury's John and Jane Harrison are impressed with how cashmere goals are controlling thistles and improving pasture quality on their Temora Downs mixed farm. Tim Cronshaw reports.
Mid Canterbury's John and Jane Harrison are on the same page when it comes to bringing cashmere goats into their Temora Downs mixed farm to control thistles and improve their pasture quality.
They run a 650ha busy sheep, beef, deer and cropping property near Mayfield and over the past year added a good-sized herd of cashmere does to the mix.
The catalyst for going the goat way was being introduced to NZ Cashmere, which is looking to rebuild the cashmere industry.
Mrs Harrison said they had had toyed with the idea of adding cashmere goats to their dryland farm a year earlier.
"I did say we should get some goats after driving around one day, but we didn't go any further with it at the time and it wasn't until we saw the project with NZ Cashmere and Ag First where they were looking for sheep and beef farmers to run a two-year project that we put our name in for this."
Mr Harrison has been impressed with their thistle appetite.
"We hummed and hahhed for a while, and the Callies (Californian thistles) and Nodders (nodding thistles) were just rife so we went and tried out these goats and it's amazing what they've done. In two days they've just chewed out four hectares of thistles. One time I went to go check on them and the thistles were thick on the ground and I came back in a few days' time and they were all gone and the goats had their heads in the fence trying to get to the long grass in the tree yards."
He had been going around circles trying to get on top of the unwanted thistles and a beef contract removed some sprays so they were pretty much down to costly and time-consuming options.
A focus earlier on re-grassing, mainly using a ryegrass base with plantain, red and white clover, and sometimes, chicory, had helped them finish all their own stock, and improve the ewes' lambing percentages.
However, with the high fertility pastures and heavy yearly rainfall came more thistles.
In a couple of their paddocks which were reworked and regrassed about four years, ago they were so dense they could barely walk through them, he said.
"This paddock right there was just red with flowers of Nodders. The goats were in the paddock next door and I didn't think they would get on top of this at all. So I topped half of it and then just chucked them in to see what would happen. This is five days later and look at it."Only the remnants of thistle stalks remain on the leased part of the farm with the pasture responding to the lack of competition.
Californian thistles are a different ball game to their nodding cousins as they have a solid underground root system.
When the first crop of thistles are either topped, weed-wiped or the goats are put on them, they often reappear twice as thick.
Looks are deceiving though as that's when the farmer knows he has them on the run as the underground root system starts to become exhausted.
Mr Harrison said he would barely need to top these paddocks again now he knew the goats would keep them down.
The white-coated 150 mixed-age cashmere does, between 3 and 7 years old, will live in the 30ha block until they are mated and likely go out for the winter in a rough area beside the main lane.
Their ability to graze on weeds unpalatable to other stock means they can go on old tree stump blocks, and the like, as long as there is some shelter to keep them out of the wind.
In the two-month lead-up to shearing, the farmer will only need to make sure their coats are clear of thistles and other material so their cashmere fibre is clean.
Good seven-wire fencing or a hot wire running around the perimeter is a must as their inquisitive nature means they need to be well contained.
However, Mr Harrison has been surprised to learn how easy they are to handle.
"There might be a mob of four or five of them who get out and they see or hear you coming and they run back to where they got out so then you know where the hole is and go and fix the hole. The odd time they run back somewhere else and can't get back so I just open a gate. Generally, if they get out they all get out when one finds a hole and the others follow. I had one paddock which didn't have any thistles and at the next one the gate was open and it had thistles. Anyway, they got through a gap in the seven-wire fence and skipped the paddock with no thistles straight to the paddock with thistles."
In other paddocks at the top of the hill where the does had raised their kids, they too were full of Californian and Nodding thistles, but the weaned kids are keeping them down.
The kidding rate on the low end of 87% is believed to be related to doe stress when they were transported by truck from Otago to North Canterbury before they were mated at their new home. This is expected to increase next season.
The Harrisons are working with Rural Solutions farm consultant Graham Butcher to see how they can fine-tune the running of the does in their farm system with a focus on spray-free thistle management and improving their pastures over the next two seasons.
Mr Butcher is overseeing the two-year pilot at Temora Downs on behalf of NZ Cashmere and following the economics of the flock.
He said the many benefits of goats included reducing the high costs of controlling thistles and the savings from improving pastures.
'This is already a highly productive commercial farm which makes it a useful case to show how cashmere production can further support diversification, and farm profitability. The focus is on feed management on the farm. It revolves around economic returns and how you look at them. Understanding profitability of stock policy and matching that to the feed conditions on the farm is important."
He said the browsing of scrub, thistles cutty grass, gorse and broom by goats was a useful addition for sheep and beef farmers as half of the feed they consumed was considered zero to low stock feed.
"They also take cost out of the farm system by reducing your sprays.'
The couple opened their woolshed doors to interested visitors at a field-day by NZ Cashmere under Andy May who is chief executive of Woolyarns, a 78-year-old business in Wellington supplying premium knitting yarns internationally.
NZ Cashmere is looking to add to the more than 40 farmers on the books as it works to build the cashmere industry to a goal of supplying 1% of the international market dominated by China and Mongolia fibre. A scouring and processing facility made specifically for cashmere yarn is already off the ground.
The plan to build cashmere numbers on a solid platform after the boom and bust of the 1980s was hatched when Mr May was contacted by veteran South Otago breeder David Shaw.
Mr Shaw said farming typically wasted between 10% to 25% of feed and it was more difficult to manage weeds in hill country operations.
Goats usually ate from chest height and started from the top to work down. They left the best grass and clover alone, whereas sheep started at the bottom and grazed up, he said.
"By and large on our farm we do not have weeds any more and while there are a couple of things that are a headache the goats consume them, to turn them into product. We give them space to roam and by doing that they will pick out what they want which is typically not the best cream stuff that is going to your sheep and cattle. So there's an old adage that says you can put about 10% liveweight in goats on a farm and not really impact existing stock units because they are consuming different parts of the pasture."
Cashmere prices are up to $150 a kilogram for a grade between 14.5 and 15.9 microns with 16 to 16.7 microns selling for $125/kg and 16.8 to 18 microns $110/kg.
While this is appealing, the multi-purpose nature of the animal and the way it dovetails in their operation as a tool to support pasture improvement for their beef finishing is what grabbed the Harrisons.
Temora Downs rises from 400 metres to 600m above sea level and catches 1200mm of rain a year.
The 650ha property includes 260ha of leased land.
The Harrisons run 2500 ewes, 110 beef cows, 170 stags and trading stock including buying store lambs as well as growing 20ha of barley and 30ha of winter feed for dairy cows.
Another 150 cattle are on contract to be grown to 280kg by Anzco under conditions by its client Aleph Inc, a large family-owned Japanese company.
Mr Harrison said one of the main reasons they took on cashmere goats was they would help them meet some of these conditions.
"Our beef all goes to Aleph in a contract with Anzco and with that contract we are not allowed to use certain sprays so that knocks out quite a few of our thistle sprays and takes a long time to catch up on our weed work."
While it looks like some of these sprays may soon be able to be used, the Harrisons would prefer to avoid them as they also take out valuable clover in their pastures.
That just confirms to them the many benefits the goats are providing.
Their appetite for thistle munching has turned a cost into a saving, helped reduce spraying and the fibre returns will add to their cash flow as well as integrate nicely with the rest of their stock policy.
"We've got a good perimeter fence and they're not really getting out ... As long as you've got thistles for something to eat they're pretty cruisy."

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NZ Herald
08-05-2025
- NZ Herald
What does the papal name Leo mean? The history behind the new Pope's name
Popes have been selecting papal names for centuries. They are often drawn to similar names, usually those of previous pontiffs they would like to emulate. There have been a lot of John fans — at least 21 popes have used the name (23 if you count two John Pauls). For Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio, that name was Francis, chosen for St Francis of Assisi, 'the man of poverty, the man of peace, the man who loves and protects creation', he told reporters in 2013, shortly after his election. The name dovetailed with his vision for the church: 'How I would like a Church which is poor and for the poor,' he said. Other common choices include Gregory (16), Benedict (15) and Clement (14).Though not officially recognised by the church, antipopes — those who opposed the selection of the pope and purported that they were the rightful head of the Catholic Church — have occasionally influenced the numbering of subsequent papal names, such as Benedict XVI, Francis' predecessor. Because of the antipopes, there are 21 Johns, but no Pope John XX, and eight Bonifaces but no Pope Boniface VII. John and Gregory are the most common names among the popes. In its more than 2000 years of existence, the Catholic Church has had 265 pontiffs across 267 papacies, who have taken a total of 84 papal names. In the early days of Catholicism, popes simply used their baptismal name, and some pontiffs had names that sound somewhat irreverent today, such as Hilarius and Simplicius. But when Pope John II was elected in 533 AD, he changed the precedent, opting for John over his given name, Mercurius, likely to shed associations with the pagan Roman god, according to Vanessa Corcoran, a scholar of medieval religious history at Georgetown University. (It appears Pope Dionysius, who reigned from 259 to 268, did not feel it necessary to create the same distance from the party-loving Greek god of wine; Dionysius was a common name at that time). It wasn't until the late 10th century that choosing a papal name became standard practice — with the exceptions of Adrian VI in 1522 and Marcellus II in 1555, who kept their baptismal names. Out of 264 popes, 129 chose a new name. Since Pope John XII, there have been 12 Innocents (the first Pope Innocent held the papacy from 401 to 417), seven Urbans (the first Pope Urban reigned from 222 to 230) and six Leos (there were seven other Leos before choosing a new name became the standard practice). The late 1700s to mid-1900s saw a wave of Piuses, while more recently, popes have gravitated toward John and Paul. Polish Cardinal Karol Wojtyla chose John Paul II in 1978, in honour of his predecessor John Paul, who died after holding the pontificate for 33 days. John Paul I was the first pontiff to use a double name. With the exception of the new double name of John Paul, Francis was the first pope since Pope Lando in 913 to choose a previously unused papal name. Like Francis, German Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger took the name Benedict XVI in 2005 with a vision for his pontificate. Pointing to Benedict XV, who had guided the church through World War I, he said he planned to place his ministry 'in the service of reconciliation and harmony between peoples.'


Otago Daily Times
06-05-2025
- Otago Daily Times
Ordinary lives and extraordinary events
On the eve of the 80th anniversary of VE Day, Philip Temple looks back at childhoods on both sides of the conflict. I ran into the back yard as the roaring grew louder and louder. Bombers! They seemed to be just above the chimney tops of Castleford coal town and one flew right over us. ''I saw the man at the back!'' I shouted. Grandad was not sure about that but, ''I did, I did! 'E waved.'' I was a 5-year-old jumping with excitement. ''Where they going?'' Grandad thought about it for a minute and said, ''They've gone to bomb the Jerries. The army's just invaded France.'' ''Does that mean the war's over?' He smiled. ''Nay lad but it won't be long now.'' It was D Day, June 6, 1944. Four years later I got to know my stepfather, John. He did not want to talk about it at first but I knew he had been in the RAF and every small boy wanted to fly Spitfires. It was a bit disappointing when I found he had not been a fighter pilot, only a rear gunner, one of those at the back, in a Halifax bomber, which wasn't a patch on the Lancaster either. But he had been shot down over a place called Mannheim on Christmas Eve 1944 and parachuted out and then was a prisoner of war. It took me years to get the full story out of him. To exit the Halifax's rear turret, he had to rotate it by hand until his back was facing out, then put on his parachute, then tumble backwards into space, at 15,000 feet with the plane on fire, his pilot trying to keep it stable while the crew escaped. He did not make it. John had to count for at least 10 seconds after falling, to be sure of being clear of the burning bomber, before pulling the ripcord. He landed safely in a ploughed field, glad that he had managed to avoid a nearby pine plantation, but as he gathered in the parachute he heard shots being fired. Local vigilantes were shooting at the Terrorflieger, terror flyers, as they parachuted down. A farmer ran towards John holding a pitchfork and he raised his hands but the farmer came on and pulled him into a ditch, hiding him from the shooters. When the firing was over, he handed John over to the local authorities and a lone corporal escorted him and other prisoners on a tram to holding barracks in Mannheim. The other passengers were not amused. John spent the last five months of the war as a prisoner, shunted by train to a camp in Poland and then back to Germany. On one journey, a young guard asked if any of the prisoners could sing and when some put their hands up, he led them in a succession of Christmas carols. He had been a choirmaster before the war. In 2016, my wife Diane and I travelled to Heidelberg to take part in the autumn festival of this companion Unesco City of Literature. It was one of the few German cities to avoid destruction by bombing, not by negligence but because the US High Command made an early decision to turn this historic hill town on the Neckar River into a pleasantly intact postwar base. We visited the castle and walked the Philosophers Way, which was frequented less by university students than by youngsters in the latest craze of Pokemon. One afternoon, our host Marion took us to the home of artist Pieter Sohl in the forested hills above the city. It was an event to launch her biography of the artist and, from the garden decorated with his sculptures, there was a view over Heidelberg to the Upper Rhine plains and Mannheim where Pieter had been born. I told Marion that I had published a novel about the suffering, and deaths, of a group of Berlin artists under the Nazis and bombing of World War 2. After the speeches, she said Pieter would like to talk about this and we sat beside a window looking on to the garden and exchanged histories. During the war Pieter had lived with his grandparents on a farm near Mannheim. At age 11, six years older than me, he would go out daily in the vicious winter of 1944-45 to collect what firewood he could find in nearby plantations. One day he heard noises above him and saw a Terrorflieger hanging by his parachute from high branches. Pieter was agile enough to climb up and help the Canadian airman down and take him home, where his grandparents fed him before handing him over to the authorities. I told him about my stepfather and wondered if he and the Canadian had journeyed together to the same camp for British and Commonwealth airmen. We nodded and smiled and remembered them in our serendipitous encounter, looking out to those killing fields of 70 years before. ★★★ In May 1945 the war was over. They set a line of trestle tables in the lane between the rows of terrace houses in Lock Lane, Castleford, and there was a victory party for all the kids, and some of the grownups, too. I had never eaten, or even seen, so many sweet puddings and jellies and I stuffed so much down so fast I was violently sick. ''Serve you right, you greedy little bugger,'' my grandad said. A year later I was in London, after joining my mother, and she took me down to the Thames Embankment, close to Parliament, to see the big fireworks event marking the anniversary of VE Day. But I couldn't see because of all the men and women in front of me and, when he saw my predicament, an American GI picked me up and perched me on his shoulders. There had never been such a fireworks display. Everyone was laughing and smiling in the exhilaration of triumph and wonder. We had won and here was the glorious proof. In the mid-1980s, I met Gunter Bennung near where I lived on Banks Peninsula. He travelled around schools, performing as Shiven the Clown, delighting kids up and down the South Island. We were the same age and one winter we sat beside a roaring fire and talked about our families and our childhood. He was born in Potsdam just before the war and could not remember much about his father, who was soon involved in the fighting and had been killed in Yugoslavia during an RAF bombing raid. The salient, distressing thing that Gunter knew about his father was that he had been in an officer in an SS regiment. Had he or had he not been involved in war criminal actions? Later I was to see a family album in which photos of his father had the insignia scratched from his uniform. Not long before I was vomiting jelly at the Castleford street party, Gunter was with his mother, a nurse at a hospital on the island of Rugen, off Germany's Baltic coast. The Soviet army arrived and began to take over. Gunter told me that his mother heard the words gulag and Siber in discussions about what to do with the staff. With the excuse of taking Gunter to the toilet, she escaped with him across country. When they reached the only bridge connecting the island to the town of Stralsund, it was on fire. Gunter remembered somehow getting across, balancing on single girders as his mother urged him on. With the war coming to an end, tens of thousands of refugees headed west, away from the oncoming Soviet army. Gunter and his mother somehow made it on a train to Berlin and then on the S-Bahn towards their home in Potsdam. Amid the surging crowds at Wannsee station, he panicked as he was carried away from his mother, but was able to find her later on the banks of the lake. Reaching home was not the haven they expected. The house was taken over by Soviet troops, some of whom treated the bath as a lavatory. They were relegated to the garage from which Gunter's mother was treated as the household's servant. More may have been expected of her. Gunter was not, at least, among the hordes of homeless children roaming the bombed-out streets of Berlin. Gunter's story and mine revealed that there are always two sides to the coin when nations go to war. As a boy, I felt secure and proud that my country had won the war and that the other side, the Germans, were evil and deserved to be beaten. My stepfather and others of his generation were all heroes. Gunter had only experienced terror and defeat, amid national humiliation and blame. It was an arduous journey towards the light with the burden of his father's role. No wonder he became a clown to bring joy to children, and preached a philosophy of peace and love. His story stirred the idea of my novel that would look at the lives of those ordinary Germans, on the other side of the coin, who had suffered during that horrific war. It also led to my conviction that there should be no coins with sides based on demonisation of the other, creating only the damaging currencies of conflict that continue to savage our world. • Philip Temple is a Dunedin author who has been publishing fiction and non-fiction for over 60 years.


Otago Daily Times
29-04-2025
- Otago Daily Times
Goats' appetite for thistles produces many benefits
Mid Canterbury's John and Jane Harrison are impressed with how cashmere goals are controlling thistles and improving pasture quality on their Temora Downs mixed farm. Tim Cronshaw reports. Mid Canterbury's John and Jane Harrison are on the same page when it comes to bringing cashmere goats into their Temora Downs mixed farm to control thistles and improve their pasture quality. They run a 650ha busy sheep, beef, deer and cropping property near Mayfield and over the past year added a good-sized herd of cashmere does to the mix. The catalyst for going the goat way was being introduced to NZ Cashmere, which is looking to rebuild the cashmere industry. Mrs Harrison said they had had toyed with the idea of adding cashmere goats to their dryland farm a year earlier. "I did say we should get some goats after driving around one day, but we didn't go any further with it at the time and it wasn't until we saw the project with NZ Cashmere and Ag First where they were looking for sheep and beef farmers to run a two-year project that we put our name in for this." Mr Harrison has been impressed with their thistle appetite. "We hummed and hahhed for a while, and the Callies (Californian thistles) and Nodders (nodding thistles) were just rife so we went and tried out these goats and it's amazing what they've done. In two days they've just chewed out four hectares of thistles. One time I went to go check on them and the thistles were thick on the ground and I came back in a few days' time and they were all gone and the goats had their heads in the fence trying to get to the long grass in the tree yards." He had been going around circles trying to get on top of the unwanted thistles and a beef contract removed some sprays so they were pretty much down to costly and time-consuming options. A focus earlier on re-grassing, mainly using a ryegrass base with plantain, red and white clover, and sometimes, chicory, had helped them finish all their own stock, and improve the ewes' lambing percentages. However, with the high fertility pastures and heavy yearly rainfall came more thistles. In a couple of their paddocks which were reworked and regrassed about four years, ago they were so dense they could barely walk through them, he said. "This paddock right there was just red with flowers of Nodders. The goats were in the paddock next door and I didn't think they would get on top of this at all. So I topped half of it and then just chucked them in to see what would happen. This is five days later and look at it."Only the remnants of thistle stalks remain on the leased part of the farm with the pasture responding to the lack of competition. Californian thistles are a different ball game to their nodding cousins as they have a solid underground root system. When the first crop of thistles are either topped, weed-wiped or the goats are put on them, they often reappear twice as thick. Looks are deceiving though as that's when the farmer knows he has them on the run as the underground root system starts to become exhausted. Mr Harrison said he would barely need to top these paddocks again now he knew the goats would keep them down. The white-coated 150 mixed-age cashmere does, between 3 and 7 years old, will live in the 30ha block until they are mated and likely go out for the winter in a rough area beside the main lane. Their ability to graze on weeds unpalatable to other stock means they can go on old tree stump blocks, and the like, as long as there is some shelter to keep them out of the wind. In the two-month lead-up to shearing, the farmer will only need to make sure their coats are clear of thistles and other material so their cashmere fibre is clean. Good seven-wire fencing or a hot wire running around the perimeter is a must as their inquisitive nature means they need to be well contained. However, Mr Harrison has been surprised to learn how easy they are to handle. "There might be a mob of four or five of them who get out and they see or hear you coming and they run back to where they got out so then you know where the hole is and go and fix the hole. The odd time they run back somewhere else and can't get back so I just open a gate. Generally, if they get out they all get out when one finds a hole and the others follow. I had one paddock which didn't have any thistles and at the next one the gate was open and it had thistles. Anyway, they got through a gap in the seven-wire fence and skipped the paddock with no thistles straight to the paddock with thistles." In other paddocks at the top of the hill where the does had raised their kids, they too were full of Californian and Nodding thistles, but the weaned kids are keeping them down. The kidding rate on the low end of 87% is believed to be related to doe stress when they were transported by truck from Otago to North Canterbury before they were mated at their new home. This is expected to increase next season. The Harrisons are working with Rural Solutions farm consultant Graham Butcher to see how they can fine-tune the running of the does in their farm system with a focus on spray-free thistle management and improving their pastures over the next two seasons. Mr Butcher is overseeing the two-year pilot at Temora Downs on behalf of NZ Cashmere and following the economics of the flock. He said the many benefits of goats included reducing the high costs of controlling thistles and the savings from improving pastures. 'This is already a highly productive commercial farm which makes it a useful case to show how cashmere production can further support diversification, and farm profitability. The focus is on feed management on the farm. It revolves around economic returns and how you look at them. Understanding profitability of stock policy and matching that to the feed conditions on the farm is important." He said the browsing of scrub, thistles cutty grass, gorse and broom by goats was a useful addition for sheep and beef farmers as half of the feed they consumed was considered zero to low stock feed. "They also take cost out of the farm system by reducing your sprays.' The couple opened their woolshed doors to interested visitors at a field-day by NZ Cashmere under Andy May who is chief executive of Woolyarns, a 78-year-old business in Wellington supplying premium knitting yarns internationally. NZ Cashmere is looking to add to the more than 40 farmers on the books as it works to build the cashmere industry to a goal of supplying 1% of the international market dominated by China and Mongolia fibre. A scouring and processing facility made specifically for cashmere yarn is already off the ground. The plan to build cashmere numbers on a solid platform after the boom and bust of the 1980s was hatched when Mr May was contacted by veteran South Otago breeder David Shaw. Mr Shaw said farming typically wasted between 10% to 25% of feed and it was more difficult to manage weeds in hill country operations. Goats usually ate from chest height and started from the top to work down. They left the best grass and clover alone, whereas sheep started at the bottom and grazed up, he said. "By and large on our farm we do not have weeds any more and while there are a couple of things that are a headache the goats consume them, to turn them into product. We give them space to roam and by doing that they will pick out what they want which is typically not the best cream stuff that is going to your sheep and cattle. So there's an old adage that says you can put about 10% liveweight in goats on a farm and not really impact existing stock units because they are consuming different parts of the pasture." Cashmere prices are up to $150 a kilogram for a grade between 14.5 and 15.9 microns with 16 to 16.7 microns selling for $125/kg and 16.8 to 18 microns $110/kg. While this is appealing, the multi-purpose nature of the animal and the way it dovetails in their operation as a tool to support pasture improvement for their beef finishing is what grabbed the Harrisons. Temora Downs rises from 400 metres to 600m above sea level and catches 1200mm of rain a year. The 650ha property includes 260ha of leased land. The Harrisons run 2500 ewes, 110 beef cows, 170 stags and trading stock including buying store lambs as well as growing 20ha of barley and 30ha of winter feed for dairy cows. Another 150 cattle are on contract to be grown to 280kg by Anzco under conditions by its client Aleph Inc, a large family-owned Japanese company. Mr Harrison said one of the main reasons they took on cashmere goats was they would help them meet some of these conditions. "Our beef all goes to Aleph in a contract with Anzco and with that contract we are not allowed to use certain sprays so that knocks out quite a few of our thistle sprays and takes a long time to catch up on our weed work." While it looks like some of these sprays may soon be able to be used, the Harrisons would prefer to avoid them as they also take out valuable clover in their pastures. That just confirms to them the many benefits the goats are providing. Their appetite for thistle munching has turned a cost into a saving, helped reduce spraying and the fibre returns will add to their cash flow as well as integrate nicely with the rest of their stock policy. "We've got a good perimeter fence and they're not really getting out ... As long as you've got thistles for something to eat they're pretty cruisy."