Once again in June our two families joined forces to pick another promising harvest. The weather couldn’t make its mind up so it felt like we spent more time putting on and removing layers than we did actually picking the olives; one minute you’re sweating in your jacket, the next you’re standing in the rain with a soaked t-shirt. But it’s all part of the fun, and those olives aren’t going to pick themselves.

We weren’t overly impressed with the effort of our 2000+ trees this year. It was like they’d decided the effort they put in during 2022 was enough to carry them through for a couple of years. Had we written a report card for them it would have included that classic report cliche of not meeting their full potential.

But there was still plenty to do and a whole lot of olives to pick, so we weren’t complaining.


Having 10 kids between the two families has its benefits, and this year we really noticed the effort the kids put in. Often when we’re working on the grove you can get a short burst of work out of them before they get distracted by rabbits or frogs or an intense game of hide-and-seek, and we know that’s part of the fun and exactly why we wanted to own this patch of land in the first place.

But this harvest they all put in a great shift and a solid effort. Even the youngest, just three years old, was doing her best to pull 20kg crates of olives between the nets. No matter how hard she pushed she couldn’t make it budge, but it’s the thought that counts.

The older kids might not be as cute but they make up for that with effort. They’re getting strong enough to hold the electric pickers and reach the tops of the trees, which frees the adults up for shifting nets, and moving the quad and tractor.

It’s an awesome team effort, but we’re forever impressed by how hard those kids can work. And there’s no greater feeling than the sweet satisfaction of a job well-done getting washed down with a cold can of coke and a steak and cheese pie from the Clareville Bakery.


Everything was going swimmingly until our final crate, containing no less than 100kgs of pure olivey goodness, decided to break while being transported to the press. The base of the crate had worked one-too-many harvests and decided it was time to retire, so with a crack nearly a whole day’s work dropped to the ground.

After a few seconds of staring at each other in disbelief we decided there was no point crying over spilt olives, so we got to work sourcing a new crate and picking them all up. The rain had set in by now and it’s not a whole lot of fun being on your hands and knees in the middle of a downpour picking up small fruits with your frozen fingers at the end of a long day… but we’re laughing about it now.

A hot shower, a cold beer and the taste of our new oil lifted our spirits. We were thankful for another successful harvest and another 12 months before we’d need to do it all over again.