Ah, the bliss of mild temps after a week of sweltering heat! I swear Mother Nature throws us these loops to enhance our appreciation of “normal” weather!
I have been very busy doing instead of writing lately, which is exactly why I had chosen September as my submission goal even though back in May that had seemed so far away. One thing I have learned over the years is that everything takes twice as long as I think it will. And that's without interruptions or distractions, of which there have been plenty lately.
I find it ironic that there has been progress on several fronts that are *not* construction, which I had intended to be my primary focus this year! But I'm never one to argue against progress, intentional or otherwise, as long as it is still working towards the basic underlying goal.
A third adult has joined to homestead here, bringing some valued skills along with the chaos such a move always entails. The most exciting from my perspective is probably her love of gardening. While I adore the idea of raising my own vegetables, the reality is I attend to animals much better than I do plants. I often joke it's because the ground is so far away, way down there under my feet! But in truth, I think it's the endless nature of weeding, which never seems to have an end point the way feeding animals does. I get far more satisfaction watching the animals grow than I do the weeds! Plus plants don't make the demanding noises that hungry (or just greedy!) animals do.
A couple weeks ago I attended a community lecture at the local town meeting house titled “Native Plant Knowledge”. The title has two interpretations – a knowledge of native plants, but also the Native knowledge of plants. It was less a how-to than a why-to, which surprised me, but the talk certainly did fire my enthusiasm to learn more about the resources that already surround me.
Another of my recent distractions was taking an on-line food storage class. A lot of information was packed into a few short weeks, and I'm still digesting (can't decide if the pun was intended or not) much of the information. It did convince me to finally invest in the Excalibur Dehydrator I have wanted for many years, which is also motivation to harvest, not just eat, wild (and cultivated) foods.
I enjoyed grazing on the newly ripened raspberry bushes for breakfast this morning. I intend to harvest some to dry with the goal of mixing the dried berries with meat to make pemmican. I am not a jelly consumer, so no need to bother with trying to can any. This is what appeals to me about Forest Gardening – the idea that I could encourage perennial plants to give me food with little need for ongoing seed starting, transplanting, watering, and weeding. Perhaps Forage Gardening would be a better term – encouraging naturally wild edible plants to grow in an accessible (and identifiable!) area.
Blueberries are also in season in this area, although I am not aware of any here on the property and will likely have to resort to a u-pick-em type source. The few wild strawberries went straight into my mouth without any pretense of saving some! Soon the blackberries will be ripening as well, but their quality varies considerably from year-to-year so I don't anticipate them as much as the dependable blueberries. Now I just need to learn and find some wild vegetables to go along with the berries. After all, woman cannot live on meat and berries alone! Well, okay maybe I could, but I'm a fan of variety – venison, pork, beef, lamb, chicken, turkey...
Monday, July 25, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Construction Update, 7-21
The tractor's tire rim is bent to the point the tire doesn't hold air. The chainsaw starter cord broke. The chipper is jammed. I lost Tuesday to helping someone butcher a cow, and tomorrow I'm helping butcher a horse. The loppers have several chips in the blade I need to file (or grind, but I don't have a grinder) out.
Construction? What construction?
Construction? What construction?
Saturday, July 16, 2011
The 80-20 Rule
The 80-20 rule, also known as the Pareto Principle, comes from economics. 80% of the work is done by 20% of the people; inventions are 20% inspiration and 80% perspiration; and so on.
Probably my favorite application of the 80-20 rule, however, was in conservation. When I volunteered with a country park system back in Minnesota, I learned they had a policy that 80% of the resources were left for the plant and animal inhabitants, and only 20% was developed for human use. They created a system of bike trails, public beaches, picnic and play grounds, and the like for human use, but on only a small percentage of the land. This allowed and encouraged people to visit an area largely left in its natural state within a developed metropolitan area, in the hopes of connecting the human inhabitants to the natural world that preceded and surrounded them.
One of the benefits of renting land is that I will never be able to afford as much acreage as I would prefer to surround myself with. I want to be able to lose myself in the woods (figuratively speaking, of course!). The acreage I'm privileged to find myself on now allows that. Most of it is in “tree growth”, with only a couple acres designated for human development. I sometimes feel guilty for taking another area, some distance from the main house, away from the wildlife, but far more than 80% of the property is still left to them, so it is well within the principle I adopted from the aforementioned county park system. As much as I wanted to build deeper into the property, nearly a half-mile from the road, the spot I fell in love with would have been difficult to get materials (imported or locally harvested) to. I also had concerns that developing access to that remote spot would be taking to much of the land away from its other inhabitants. So I am building closer to the neighbors than I would have preferred, and saving that special spot as a hike-in camping location.
I've written before about my efforts to convert the old skidder trails, which the forest is reclaiming, into hiking trails, but a comment made at a presentation the other evening has me wondering about the wisdom of doing so. One slide of the presentation had the quote “Take only pictures, leave only footprints.” I smiled in recognition, having grown up with the Leave No Trace backpacking principle, and was shocked when the presenter emphatically stated his hatred of that quote! He then went on to explain that such a policy, while appropriate in heavily used areas, has expanded to the point that people *never* leave the trails, don't really interact with nature, viewing it from the trail similar to viewing animals in their pens at a zoo. They see it, but don't connect with it. Images started flashing through my mind – backpacking as a young child, admonished by my parents to stay on the trail; later fears of being attacked by plants (poison ivy or poison oak) or animals (bears or rabid raccoons) if I strayed from the designated path; the awe I had at my Indiana neighbor's willingness to thread through the underbrush, always knowing where his was despite a lack of reference trails and trail maps; a reminder of my own realization years ago of how well I had been trained to stay on the trail, to color within the lines, to avoid deviating from accepted and expected behavior. Well, okay, I've done a fairly good job of throwing over that last one! Or have I? That'll be a different topic for later exploration. The point here is, are we allowing trails to limit us, to limit where we go, what we see, what we might otherwise interact with? With the 80-20 rule, are we still separating ourselves from, instead of connecting with, the natural world around us? What are the true ramifications of seemingly beneficial restrictions?
Probably my favorite application of the 80-20 rule, however, was in conservation. When I volunteered with a country park system back in Minnesota, I learned they had a policy that 80% of the resources were left for the plant and animal inhabitants, and only 20% was developed for human use. They created a system of bike trails, public beaches, picnic and play grounds, and the like for human use, but on only a small percentage of the land. This allowed and encouraged people to visit an area largely left in its natural state within a developed metropolitan area, in the hopes of connecting the human inhabitants to the natural world that preceded and surrounded them.
One of the benefits of renting land is that I will never be able to afford as much acreage as I would prefer to surround myself with. I want to be able to lose myself in the woods (figuratively speaking, of course!). The acreage I'm privileged to find myself on now allows that. Most of it is in “tree growth”, with only a couple acres designated for human development. I sometimes feel guilty for taking another area, some distance from the main house, away from the wildlife, but far more than 80% of the property is still left to them, so it is well within the principle I adopted from the aforementioned county park system. As much as I wanted to build deeper into the property, nearly a half-mile from the road, the spot I fell in love with would have been difficult to get materials (imported or locally harvested) to. I also had concerns that developing access to that remote spot would be taking to much of the land away from its other inhabitants. So I am building closer to the neighbors than I would have preferred, and saving that special spot as a hike-in camping location.
I've written before about my efforts to convert the old skidder trails, which the forest is reclaiming, into hiking trails, but a comment made at a presentation the other evening has me wondering about the wisdom of doing so. One slide of the presentation had the quote “Take only pictures, leave only footprints.” I smiled in recognition, having grown up with the Leave No Trace backpacking principle, and was shocked when the presenter emphatically stated his hatred of that quote! He then went on to explain that such a policy, while appropriate in heavily used areas, has expanded to the point that people *never* leave the trails, don't really interact with nature, viewing it from the trail similar to viewing animals in their pens at a zoo. They see it, but don't connect with it. Images started flashing through my mind – backpacking as a young child, admonished by my parents to stay on the trail; later fears of being attacked by plants (poison ivy or poison oak) or animals (bears or rabid raccoons) if I strayed from the designated path; the awe I had at my Indiana neighbor's willingness to thread through the underbrush, always knowing where his was despite a lack of reference trails and trail maps; a reminder of my own realization years ago of how well I had been trained to stay on the trail, to color within the lines, to avoid deviating from accepted and expected behavior. Well, okay, I've done a fairly good job of throwing over that last one! Or have I? That'll be a different topic for later exploration. The point here is, are we allowing trails to limit us, to limit where we go, what we see, what we might otherwise interact with? With the 80-20 rule, are we still separating ourselves from, instead of connecting with, the natural world around us? What are the true ramifications of seemingly beneficial restrictions?
Friday, July 15, 2011
Terminology: Crunchy, Sustainable, and Self-Sufficient
I've been thinking about the crunchy-granola term, and some of the responses I've gotten to it. Plus I've run into another couple definitions that seem related to the topic, so here are some additional thoughts:
Heeding a recommendation from Michelle, I borrowed the book titled “Self Sufficiency for the 21st Century” (Dick and James Strawbridge) from the library system. In it, they explore the distinctions between sustainable and self-sufficient.
Sustainable is described as “using no more than our fair share of the planet's resources to meet our needs” while self-sufficiency is “a way of life where you endeavor to produce all you need from the resources that are available to you”.
Perhaps the term “crunchy-granola” refers to someone who attempts, in at least some aspects although probably not all, to be sustainable. Self-sufficiency largely encompasses sustainability. So there appears to be something of a progression. I think it is important to realize, however, that the progression is likely to be at different levels in various categories. It seems like it'd be (relatively) easy to be self-sufficient in food, growing and foraging your own crops and raising fodder or hunting for animals, but clothing is more easily sustainable, through purchasing used or ethically produced items, rather than producing all you need yourself. This is my impression of how villages used to work – most people were self-sufficient in food but had a specialty craft, such as spinning and weaving, leather working, and so on, with which to trade sustainably with other crafters. As Carla Emery points out in her tome “The Encyclopedia of Country Living”, one person can do any of the skills described therein, but one person cannot do all of the skills simultaneously! Best to choose which interests you the most, possibly becoming self-sufficient in that area, and choose which you will trade (time, labor, or money) for, striving to be sustainable in that area.
Given my consistent gardening failures, I'm starting to think self-sufficient food may be an exercise in frustration for me, and perhaps simply striving for sustainability (eg buying from local organic growers) would be a more reasonable goal. This would free me up to focus on other areas, such as self-sufficiency in water (rainwater collection and processing), heat (woodlot management), and power (largely through elimination of needs but also a small solar array for communication tools). This would also allow me more time and energy to develop a trade craft (or three!).
Perhaps it isn't a grammatical accident that one of my pillars is sustainable rather than self-sufficient, despite self-sufficiency being an important driver in my goals!
Heeding a recommendation from Michelle, I borrowed the book titled “Self Sufficiency for the 21st Century” (Dick and James Strawbridge) from the library system. In it, they explore the distinctions between sustainable and self-sufficient.
Sustainable is described as “using no more than our fair share of the planet's resources to meet our needs” while self-sufficiency is “a way of life where you endeavor to produce all you need from the resources that are available to you”.
Perhaps the term “crunchy-granola” refers to someone who attempts, in at least some aspects although probably not all, to be sustainable. Self-sufficiency largely encompasses sustainability. So there appears to be something of a progression. I think it is important to realize, however, that the progression is likely to be at different levels in various categories. It seems like it'd be (relatively) easy to be self-sufficient in food, growing and foraging your own crops and raising fodder or hunting for animals, but clothing is more easily sustainable, through purchasing used or ethically produced items, rather than producing all you need yourself. This is my impression of how villages used to work – most people were self-sufficient in food but had a specialty craft, such as spinning and weaving, leather working, and so on, with which to trade sustainably with other crafters. As Carla Emery points out in her tome “The Encyclopedia of Country Living”, one person can do any of the skills described therein, but one person cannot do all of the skills simultaneously! Best to choose which interests you the most, possibly becoming self-sufficient in that area, and choose which you will trade (time, labor, or money) for, striving to be sustainable in that area.
Given my consistent gardening failures, I'm starting to think self-sufficient food may be an exercise in frustration for me, and perhaps simply striving for sustainability (eg buying from local organic growers) would be a more reasonable goal. This would free me up to focus on other areas, such as self-sufficiency in water (rainwater collection and processing), heat (woodlot management), and power (largely through elimination of needs but also a small solar array for communication tools). This would also allow me more time and energy to develop a trade craft (or three!).
Perhaps it isn't a grammatical accident that one of my pillars is sustainable rather than self-sufficient, despite self-sufficiency being an important driver in my goals!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Crunchy-Granola
In 2000/2001, my husband and I were living in an apartment next door to his office. It was the very antithesis to the rural explorations we had been doing, going from a 1 hour to a 1 minute commute! Meanwhile I was still experimenting with sustainable living skills, fully expecting to return to a more rural existence. This included using an indoor drying rack for my laundry.
A friend of his stopped by one day, and commented “Wow, she really IS crunchy-granola!” upon seeing the laundry drying on the rack in the apartment. I wasn't there at the time, and when the comment was later relayed to me, I felt puzzled. I didn't feel I qualified for the crunchy-granola set; I didn't buy organic foods, I ate meat and wore leather, and although I had long hair, I didn't wear it parted in the middle hanging down straight. And I've NEVER like eating granola! So the first part of the confusion was a difference in defining “crunchy-granola”. The second part was how air-drying laundry could be considered crunchy-granola. It saved a whole lot of quarters, I didn't have to keep running up and down the stairs to the laundry room, and it was a natural substitution to the clothesline I previously used in the rural rental house. I mean yeah, I used the rack in part because why use gas/electric when you don't need to, it is more sustainable and friendlier to the environment and all that, but crunchy-granola?!
As I was hanging up some laundry just now, still using that same rack, this story came to my mind. I still miss the clothesline, and you can be sure my permanent house will have one. But if I was crunchy-granola back then, what am I now with my plans for wood heat and root cellars? I grin, thinking of what the reactions of the people who knew me then would think of me now. I suspect they'd just shake their heads. That's okay, I'm shaking my head at many of their choices as well. It's not what other people think, or what they label us that matters; it's what WE ourselves think that matters.
A friend of his stopped by one day, and commented “Wow, she really IS crunchy-granola!” upon seeing the laundry drying on the rack in the apartment. I wasn't there at the time, and when the comment was later relayed to me, I felt puzzled. I didn't feel I qualified for the crunchy-granola set; I didn't buy organic foods, I ate meat and wore leather, and although I had long hair, I didn't wear it parted in the middle hanging down straight. And I've NEVER like eating granola! So the first part of the confusion was a difference in defining “crunchy-granola”. The second part was how air-drying laundry could be considered crunchy-granola. It saved a whole lot of quarters, I didn't have to keep running up and down the stairs to the laundry room, and it was a natural substitution to the clothesline I previously used in the rural rental house. I mean yeah, I used the rack in part because why use gas/electric when you don't need to, it is more sustainable and friendlier to the environment and all that, but crunchy-granola?!
As I was hanging up some laundry just now, still using that same rack, this story came to my mind. I still miss the clothesline, and you can be sure my permanent house will have one. But if I was crunchy-granola back then, what am I now with my plans for wood heat and root cellars? I grin, thinking of what the reactions of the people who knew me then would think of me now. I suspect they'd just shake their heads. That's okay, I'm shaking my head at many of their choices as well. It's not what other people think, or what they label us that matters; it's what WE ourselves think that matters.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Balance
I lost my sense of balance this past week, and I'm just now recovering it.
One of my favorite quotes is “Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time”. I saw this on a paperweight ages ago, with no author attribution. I always found it amusing that presumably the paperweight would be used to hold down the papers you might be working on if you weren't otherwise “wasting” time on something enjoyable.
Balance between work and play, self and others, has always been hugely important to me. It's a large part of why I reject the rat race. I participated in the race years ago, didn't enjoy it, and found it pointless and unbalancing. So I declined to continue participating. By lowering my needs and tempering my wants, largely by practicing some form of minimalism, I effectively moved the “ends” to make those ends meet more easily. But like minimalism, balance is a goal that is not statically achieved, but rather continually strived for. If you've ever stood on a balance board with a rounded bottom, you understand the physical analogy to the philosophical concept. Life is not a steady balance beam upon which one can perch motionless; it is constantly rocking, requiring continual readjustment.
Work on my book was one of this week's casualties during this latest act of balance readjustment. In fact, the interruption of such a rewarding project was an excellent indicator of just how far from balanced my life was shifting! The amount of time I spend reading fiction (mostly sci-fi), is another indicator, as reading is one of my primary stress coping mechanisms as well as just plain enjoyable. The amount of reading time required to balance the external stress, however, left no time for other projects. I would feel guilty for having wasted so much time reading, except that I enjoyed it, therefore it was not wasted time! But having identified the external stress (and the magnitude based upon the required quantity of anitdote reading!) I can now take actions to modify it, which will temper the reading antidote needs, and allow me to return to a more balanced state, including returning to other regretfully neglected projects.
No wonder more people aren't happy! How many people realize that happiness isn't a steady-state, but an oscillating one, and that dampening the oscillation swings requires ongoing attention, awareness, and action?!
One of my favorite quotes is “Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time”. I saw this on a paperweight ages ago, with no author attribution. I always found it amusing that presumably the paperweight would be used to hold down the papers you might be working on if you weren't otherwise “wasting” time on something enjoyable.
Balance between work and play, self and others, has always been hugely important to me. It's a large part of why I reject the rat race. I participated in the race years ago, didn't enjoy it, and found it pointless and unbalancing. So I declined to continue participating. By lowering my needs and tempering my wants, largely by practicing some form of minimalism, I effectively moved the “ends” to make those ends meet more easily. But like minimalism, balance is a goal that is not statically achieved, but rather continually strived for. If you've ever stood on a balance board with a rounded bottom, you understand the physical analogy to the philosophical concept. Life is not a steady balance beam upon which one can perch motionless; it is constantly rocking, requiring continual readjustment.
Work on my book was one of this week's casualties during this latest act of balance readjustment. In fact, the interruption of such a rewarding project was an excellent indicator of just how far from balanced my life was shifting! The amount of time I spend reading fiction (mostly sci-fi), is another indicator, as reading is one of my primary stress coping mechanisms as well as just plain enjoyable. The amount of reading time required to balance the external stress, however, left no time for other projects. I would feel guilty for having wasted so much time reading, except that I enjoyed it, therefore it was not wasted time! But having identified the external stress (and the magnitude based upon the required quantity of anitdote reading!) I can now take actions to modify it, which will temper the reading antidote needs, and allow me to return to a more balanced state, including returning to other regretfully neglected projects.
No wonder more people aren't happy! How many people realize that happiness isn't a steady-state, but an oscillating one, and that dampening the oscillation swings requires ongoing attention, awareness, and action?!
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