You’ve had another successful year on the farm: your accountant does the maths, tells you how much belongs to IRD, and you (willingly? begrudgingly?) write the cheque. Sound familiar? That’s certainly one option. But farming income is rarely consistent from one year to the next. The milk price moves, the next “100-year” weather event hits, or perhaps the price of diesel teeters at $3.80 a litre. Fortunately, our tax system contains provisions designed with that volatility

Rural accounting isn’t a career known for its social calendar, but I’ve recently found myself at a few networking events. There were name tags, stainless steel urns of hot coffee and, of course, allocated mingling time. I appreciate that for many, the thought of compulsory social interaction sounds like a waking nightmare. But anyone who knows me will tell you I’ll rarely turn down a coffee and a chat. For me, networking is a chance to connect with other rural professionals

As I wrote about in Calf Chronicles last month, every Friday, we have lunch with two other farming couples. We usually take turns hosting at each other’s homes. It is not elaborate, yet it has been one of the greatest gifts in helping me properly settle and thrive in farming life. I often say I am lucky to have found my tribe and experience that level of connection. I am, but some of that luck was actually intentional. I met one of the ladies at a course. We shared a bond ove

Growing up on a farm, the dangers that came with working in our sector were ingrained in us from a young age. We all had near misses, even as children. It was almost a rite of passage. On quad bikes, driving the farm ute, working in the yards and discovering very quickly what happens when you get on the wrong side of a sheep. Most of the time, they were just that. Near misses. Sadly, some weren’t. We lost young members of our community in farm accidents in relatively quick su

Once upon a time, I was sent to a Management 101 course to learn how to do the job I was meant to already be doing. Over lunch, I met a lovely lady who managed a team supporting minority women to engage with women’s health services. She spoke about how a core part of their job was simply chatting with small groups of ladies within their own communities, creating safe spaces with women who understood them and their backgrounds, breaking down the educational, social and cultura

My husband and I recently returned from a holiday in Vietnam. I found myself thinking about culture. Not the big obvious parts of culture, like language, history or food, the tiny unwritten rules people just know. In Vietnam, one of those rules is crossing the road. A raging river of scooters, cars, bikes, people and horns greet you at any road. The first instinct is wait for a gap. Except, there is no gap. On our first day I ended up messaging a local friend to ask how one

There’s nothing quite like an anniversary to make you step back and reflect on the twists and turns life has thrown at you, and to humble you with the illusion that we have total control over the events that shape our lives. Ten years ago, we were enjoying our carefree adult lifestyles with disposable income, a house that stayed clean for more than a day, and time to waste doing fun, non-productive things like hobbies or sleeping in. We made plans assuming we were in control

Succession. A sensational television show of the late 2010s? Absolutely. But for farming families, it’s also an inevitability reality every business will face. In March 2025, Rabobank published a white paper estimating that, over the next ten years, more than half of all New Zealand farm and orchard owners will reach retirement age. As a result, $150 billion of New Zealand farming assets is expected to change hands. Rabobank referred to this “changing of the guard” as what