Probably not an animal Kiwi farming folk particularly want to celebrate given the damage caused by the prolific producing pest.
So perhaps New Zealand should adopt its own astrology calendar and make it the Year of the Farmer, a year-long — and beyond — celebration of the country’s food-producing champions.
Cast your mind over what is being served up to families in breakfast bowls and on dinner plates around the country this summer.
Cereal and fruit produced by a farmer or grower? Check. Left-over Christmas lamb sandwich? Check. Barbecue at the lake washed down with a craft beer? Check. Cream and kiwifruit-topped pavlova (if you were able to secure eggs)? Check.
And not forgetting the vegetarian and vegan diners; where do their plant-based choices come from?
Even that oat milk latte originated down on the farm.
As an aside, much plant-based "meat" is derived largely from imported pea protein, which comes with far more food miles than popping down to the local butchery, but I digress.
Let us not forget what side our bread is buttered on and how it was farming — not our previously greatly-lauded tourism sector — which kept the economy ticking through the global uncertainty and disruption of Covid.
For me, the New Year’s Honours list was a disappointment.
Not taking anything away from those fine individuals whose contribution to the betterment of society was recognised, my dismay was at the lack of acknowledgement for those in the primary sector — the engine room of the economy.
Where were the plaudits for those who spend their days doing their best to create an environmentally and economically sustainable future for the industry?
Traditionally, the lists of most unpopular professions have been the domain of second-hand car dealers, lawyers and journalists.
Farmers, in latter times, could well be forgiven for thinking they had also joined those lowly ranks.
As well as a celebration of our food producers, may 2023 bring more co-operation, collaboration, communication and common bloody sense when it comes to the relationship between the Government and our rural sector.
2022 was another year of angst and frustration for farming folk, with more protests organised by farming advocacy group Groundswell New Zealand, in response to the raft of regulations.
Responding to the protests, Agriculture Minister Damien O’Connor — whose Twitter post of sitting astride his motorcycle amid pine trees after flying back from Apec in November was ill thought-out — said he wanted to see solutions, not slogans.
Solutions require collaboration — carrots, not canes — and regulations must be achievable, and involve proper consultation, proposals not solely dreamed up by city-based bureaucrats who have never set their squeaky-clean feet on a rural property and do not know a Hereford from a hogget.
Some recognition from the Beehive of the importance of the sector and acknowledgement of the hard mahi that goes on daily in the milking sheds, sheep yards, grain fields and processing plants around the country would not go astray.
Pride must be restored in being a farmer, otherwise there will be no incentive for the next generation — or even some of the current generation — to farm the land.
The urban sprawl — and a plethora of pine trees — will continue on some of the world’s best food-producing soils and New Zealand will be much the poorer for it, increasingly importing products from countries with far less stringent animal welfare controls.
That Kiwi staple of bacon and eggs might well become far less Kiwi — as far as the pork industry goes, imported pork already makes up about 64% of New Zealand’s consumption — while the current egg shortage has been well documented.
So bugger the bunny. Let’s make 2023 the Year of the Farmer; remember synthetic is just a fancy word for plastic, so clothe your families and clad your homes in natural, sustainable products, and support — and salute — your local food producers who are outstanding in their field year-round. Literally.
- Sally Rae is the Otago Daily Times business and rural editor. She is a farmer’s daughter who eats meat and wears wool and knows the difference between the Hereford and a hogget.
