Another Utah

A mea culpa

2011-12-06T10:16:00.001-08:00

about science and press releases....published in our 'other' blog:

http://writescience.wordpress.com/2011/12/06/the-science-behind-the-press-release/

Heroes

2011-12-05T09:19:00.001-08:00

Recently I've developed some unlikely heroes, at least for a physicist. One of them is Joel Salatin.

If you run with back-to-the-landers or the Mother Earth News crowd, you'll recognize Joel as the the man behind Polyface Farms. He and his family have been pioneers (since the '60s) of natural methods of raising livestock. Today, in addition to running Polyface, Joel is the voice of the anti-industrial farming movement. If you are into local food, if you want to be able to buy food directly from the farmer, he is your advocate.

Joel spends a great deal of time fighting what he calls "the food police" or, in his colorful way of phrasing it, the "US-duh". If you couldn't already gather, he has some pretty strong feelings about food regulation. His thesis: food regulations favor the large producers that can afford to comply, and the little guy - aka the small farmer - goes out of business due to the high overhead of compliance. He details this in his book Everything I Want to do is Illegal. It is an entertaining read, and the only book I know of that appeals to both "save the environment" liberals and "small government" conservatives. Perhaps appeal is the wrong word, because he lambasts both groups, but it beats the hell out of Ann Coulter or Al Franken. And it is about farms.

Anyway, my point: Joel is a hero. He strongly believes in his cause, he is working tireless as an advocate for small farming and local producers and he gets a lot of flack for it...from environmentalists and the government. But still he fights on.

And here is the thing about heroes. We like to read about them. What are their lives like? What do they believe in? How can I aspire to be more like that guy? After all, heroes are role models. We look up to them. We believe in them.

I picked up his recent book Folks, this Ain't Normal, an analysis of everything that is wrong with our current food system. And I am with him 100%. The CAFOs and slaughter houses, the drugs, the feed, everything about the current system is broken. Then he says something surprising: food regulation is the problem, not the solution.

Hold on a minute? Food regulation is the problem?

I have to stop here and say that I am not a small government person. I like government. I enjoy paying taxes. My taxes give me roads, and trips to the moon, and Mars exploration, and educates students, and pays my salary. The government provides assistance for the poor. They protect the environment. And my food.

Right?

Turns out there is a different perspective. You'll have to read the book, but he makes a pretty compelling case for exemptions for small producers who can demonstrate their products are safe, and that full disclosure about big industry practices would put them out of business. That you don't need the USDA.

Ok, I can take a little small government talk with my eco-friendly farming practices. So I press on.

I learn that the reason Joel is such an effective speaker and communicator is his training on the university debate team. Bob Jones University, to be exact, in Greenville, S. C. Now, I don't take issue with private religious education per se, but I am not accustomed to my environmental heroes coming from evangelical backgrounds. In fact, my stereotype for christian evangelicals is of the "God has given me dominion over the Earth so I can do whatever I damn well please" variety. One look at the Religious Right's stance on climate change or drilling for fossil fuels will reinforce that pretty quickly.

Ok, my environmentally savvy and local food promoting hero turns out to be an evangelical Christian. I can deal with that. Stereotypes are always wrong, right? Then, the bomb drops. I'll quote Joel from Folks, this Ain't Normal, out of chapter dealing with some of the science and dangers of GMO food:

"For the record, I'm a strict creationist -- I mean six days and the whole 'God spoke' thing."

What? Now my environmentally savvy, local-food promoting, GMO skeptic is a Creationist?

Now, stereotype or no stereotype, I am of the firm belief that anyone who holds to a strict interpretation of the Bible's creation story (or any other, for that matter) is simply ignorant. But Joel Salatin is far from ignorant. He is knowledgeable and thoughtful about his farming. He has bold ideas and is not afraid to find new ways to do things. His experimental approach is, dare I say, almost scientific in the way he tries something, refines it, excludes that which doesn't work, and continues to improve his methods and solutions.

And here I am, a big-government-environmentalist-liberal-atheist admiring the ideas and work of a small-government-evangelical-conservative-creationist.

Is that even allowed?

And suddenly I realized how unaccustomed I am to really delving deeply into the beliefs of others with whom I disagree. I've read all of Al Franken's books, but I wouldn't be caught dead reading anything by Ann Coulter. I only watch the wacko Glenn Beck clips on YouTube. I have unfriended many Tea Partiers on Facebook.

And yet, I can't let go of the good that Joel is doing for the planet by promoting his ideas and his farms. He is, after all, my hero. And I've learned a lesson. Joel's advice:

"Read things you're sure will disagree with your current thinking. It'll do your mind good and get your heart rate up."

I still have problems with the creationist thing, and if I ever meet Joel in person, we'll probably have a conversation about how you can't buy into breeding and selection and not allow for evolution, or that evolution is driving the antibiotic resistance in farm animals. But I imagine we'll have that conversation over drinks - I'll have a beer, and I imagine he'll have an iced tea, but you never know. And I doubt either of us will be swayed by the other's most compelling arguments.

But I bet it would be an interesting conversation.

Expecting...

2011-10-31T10:02:00.000-07:00

Ever since moving to the farm, we have been more integrated into where our food comes from. We have grown some of our own food, purchased a lot from local farmers, "put-by" nearly everything we need for winter, largely from local sources (martini olives excluded). We have also started eating meat again, since we participate in raising and slaughtering our food.

In fact, everything we have done has left me more confident that we made the right decision. You want vegetables? You need cows, for the manure. You want milk? You need cows milk...and a lot of otherwise unwanted baby cows unless you raise them and eat them. Ditto for cheese, butter, sour cream, etc. Because of this, we have taken on the responsibility of slaughtering the animals we intend to eat, as quickly and humanely as possible. We have done this for two cows, a pig, ten chickens, and eight trout so far. None of this has made me squeamish or derailed my enjoyment of the meals that follow. In fact, they have only been enhanced by knowing the sacrifice these animals make for us.

However, one thing has happened this week that may, in the end, put me back on the Vegan path:

This delightful creature is the buck that Kitty has been sequestered with for the last several days. I am not sure I can even describe the smell, let alone the awful habits, of this creature. He spits, wiggles his tongue, pees on is own face and belly...and the smell! Since Thursday all the way through yesterday, Kitty seemed to hold the same opinion. Every time this guy came near her, she'd run off leaving him to spit and wiggle and pee in her general direction.

All of that changed this morning. When I arrived to milk Kitty, she looked like she hadn't had much sleep. She was listless and droopy-eyed. Her coat was also a matted sheen of goat pee. The worst part? She was now cuddling up to the buck, rubbing her face on him, nuzzling his neck.

Clearly, something changed overnight.

So, she'll be doing this for another 12 hours, and then I'll bring her home. With luck, in five months we'll have a couple of new kids and some milk for drinking and cheese making.

Provided I can stomach the stuff after what I've seen and smelled this weekend!

The generation that took us to the Moon...

2011-09-08T09:33:00.000-07:00

Last night I had the opportunity to convey my condolences to the family of Ken Randle, a prominent engineer in the state of Utah. Ken had a lifetime of engineering work with ties to the space program, and worked on "The Grand Tour" which ultimately resulted in the Voyager spacecrafts. You can see recollections of his efforts, in his own words, in this video. On the eve of his passing, Voyager 1 was continuing its transit of the heliopause, becoming the first human-made object to truly enter interstellar space. In 40,000 years, this craft will be passing within 1.6 light years of the star AC+79 3888.

This is an exceptional legacy for any engineer, and Ken represents the generation of engineers, scientists, builders, and others with the imagination that took humans from farming to spaceflight.

Ken was born in 1923 and came of age in a generation when the world experienced incredible changes. Between 1900 and 1950, America went from a farming nation with more than half of the population living on farms to an industrial nation with only 16% of people still living on a farm. Based on my short interaction with Ken, I am not sure which half he was in, but something tells me that if he wasn't raised on a farm, his parents may have been, and his grandparents certainly were.

I suspect even in 1950 there wasn't quite the stark line between "farm" and "non-farm" as we have today. If people didn't have chickens in their garage (like my mother) or have the "pig man" drop by to get scraps for the local hogs (like S.'s mother), than they at least were visited by the milk man and the grocer probably knew all the local farmers. There may have been a cannery or two, and possible a grain mill, near town. I can't help but think there was a connection between the rural-ness of America, and the birth of great engineers like Ken.

My own father, another great engineer from a similar generation, grew up in Rochester, MN, his own father the city's engineer. My grandmother held on to a bit of farming. She raised a garden, rented a freezer to store meat in bulk - probably bought by the whole, half, or quarter - and knew how to put up the harvest for winter. Yes, my dad left that "farm" and largely threw off those rural habits. And when I asked him why he left Rochester, he told me "that's just what you did." I suppose the birth rate going from 80 per 1000 women to 118 between 1940 and 1960 means there's less room on the "ranch". Those kids must move on to something. That something turned out to be industrializing the nation and sending men to the Moon.

But I feel the connection is deeper than just "we generated a bunch of kids to go off and become engineers." I think there must be some connection between my grandmother's canning of tomatoes and my dad's desire to build the next generation of power plants. I can't help thinking that Ken worked so diligently on "The Grand Tour" because he had some experience with horses, and grew up in a more rural America.

Our friends' daughter is coming back to our "farm" to help with the chores tonight. She learned in school about Texas, about the wide open spaces, and about the cattle that graze that range. She says she wants to grow up to be a rancher and farmer there, and needs to get experience as early as possible. She helps clean tack, muck stalls, and milks the goat.

I don't know if she is really going to grow up to be a rancher in Texas, but last night reminded me that the generation that took us to the Moon probably knew how to milk a goat.

From consumer to producer

2011-08-08T16:13:00.000-07:00

S. and I have been doing a lot of stuff for ourselves lately such as raising our own food, making our own stuff, learning skills to make more of our own stuff, etc. Most of this we do because we enjoy it (in my case, baking bread and brewing beer), while other things we do because we have to (house cleaning and chicken killing come to mind). This new lifestyle is a lot of work, but, at the same time, it is very satisfying.

I know it's a little sad, but the scientist in me would like to quantify that satisfaction. So I sat down this afternoon to compute exactly how satisfying this type of stuff is. I wanted to know how, as a producer, we were impacting our economy.

My first inclination is to scale up our activities and ask "how much would we have to produce to make a living doing this?"

But that misses the point. I don't want to be a goat farmer, I want to be a physics professor. I like, and occasionally love, my job. I don't want to figure the economic impact by what it would take to bring my produce to market.

Then I noticed something: the more S. and I produce, the less often we go to "the market". So there is a dollar value associated with our produce. It is the value of the dollar we didn't spend buying something at the grocery store.

The calculation is pretty simple. I figured out how much it cost me to, say, bake bread, and how many times a year I do this activity. Then, I calculated the market value of the product that I didn't buy because of the activity. Since I've gotten pretty good a baking bread over the years, my product fetches the premium artisan price (as does our cheese, milk, beer, nightly dinners, etc, but I have I high opinion of the stuff we make). I also factored in the labor involved to make it, with one caveat: if we do the activity for fun, the labor costs are zero.

Luckily, I love to bake bread. I also love to milk goats, raise chickens, make cheese and brew beer. So, labor costs are pretty minimal. I don't, for example, like to clean the house, but since I work in a small regional state-run university, two hours of my time is still less than the weekly cleaning fee to hire a housekeeper, so I still come out ahead on that one over the course of the year.

The result? Something like the equivalent of 12 weeks of "work" are saved by doing this stuff ourselves. Another way to think about it: I could work 12 fewer weeks with the money "saved" from producing our own stuff. Or, since I can't do that, I have freed up 12 weeks of "salary" to put toward other stuff.

Side Note: The most profitable thing I do all year is brew beer. A pleasant surprise.

There is one problem with this exercise. According to the economic wizards, by saving money and producing for ourselves, we are actually hurting the economy. But I suppose our "produce" has not been tabulated in the GDP. Maybe I should forward my spreadsheet to the Fed.

S. read me a quote the other day:

"A dollar earned is 70 cents...a dollar saved is 100 cents"

What is the value of a dollar produced?

Another slaughter day

2011-07-31T14:02:00.000-07:00

Today we decided to slaughter the remaining nine birds from the elder flock to make room for the new hens in the coop. It has gotten urgent, since the smaller coop is far too tight for 12 mature hens (at least by our standards), and the old flock has been slowly reducing its egg output. We were down to about three eggs per day, and falling. The time had come.

Last weekend, we killed one bird as a test. We built the killing cone, stuck her in head first, slit her throat, poked her brain, and snap - like a switch - she was elsewhere and we had a chicken to pluck. The feathers sloughed off like a jacket and the bird was eviscerated and in the pot before the bread was out of the oven. Simple.

Today, not so simple. First, slaughtering nine birds is not just nine times more work than one. You need an assembly line and a system, which we had. We put all nine birds in a box, and planned to kill them all, then I'd pluck them as S. eviscerated and packed for them in the freezer. This was a good system, but more involved than the solitary reverence we bestowed on our first kill.

Second, during the kill, for some reason I could not severe the spinal cord on a single bird. What had been so simple a week ago turned out to be devilishly tricky this time around. Maybe it was the pressure of so many birds, or maybe it was over-confidence from last week, but it made the slaughter take a lot longer. The birds still bled out and did not suffer, but the key to an easy pluck is to sever that brain stem. After three hours shelling reluctant feathers from nine birds, lesson learned.

Still, in a bit under three hours S. and I killed, plucked, cleaned, and stored nine birds. We did so humanely, and with little mess. (Ok, there was a little mess - I took my clothes off right away, threw them in the washing machine, and immediately took a shower). The goal was to cull the flock, but we took what would have been wasted and put it up for later, for soups and stews this winter. It would have been easy to skip this step, and, at hour two covered in feather goo, I was temped. But we stuck it out.

While we did this, I was struck by the work I expect others to do on my behalf. When I buy chicken from the store, somewhere a worker is doing this dirty job for eight to ten hours per day, everyday, for little pay and less recognition. It suddenly seems so strange that we should take this necessary but unpleasant task of slaughtering animals for our food, burden one person with the responsibility, and then hide them behind closed doors while we enjoy our meals. (I know, we should all be vegan, but read this or this).

For what it's worth, we took that responsibility ourselves today. It was a bit unpleasant and we clearly have a lot to learn. But it was humbling to participate in the death of those birds, and to make room for our new flock to thrive and enjoy their chicken-y existence until their time comes. I won't relish that time, but I will participate and take responsibility for the life we bring to this farm.

As Joel Salatin says: "Our animals have a good life and one really bad day".

We should all be so lucky.

Waxed the cheese today...

2011-07-28T12:49:00.000-07:00

Here is the final product from pioneer day - the cheese. Now it just needs to age for 30 days!

Photos from Pioneer Day

2011-07-26T14:13:00.000-07:00

Here are just a few photos from our new annual Pioneer Day celebration:

The chicken we caught, killed, plucked, eviscerated, and then ate on Pioneer Day.

Stacy, cooking the chicken we caught, killed, plucked, eviscerated, and then ate on Pioneer Day.

The bread we made while we caught, killed, etc. the chicken we ate on Pioneer Day.

The cheese (both farmhouse cheddar and whey ricotta) that we made from fresh goat's milk on Pioneer Day.

The farmhouse cheddar, drying in the pantry awaiting waxing in a couple of days.

In honor of the mormon pioneers who settled Utah on Pioneer Day, we'll leave out the photos of the cream ale we racked as well.

All in all, a successful Pioneer Day!

Pioneer Day

2011-07-24T14:36:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow is Pioneer Day here in Utah, the day locals celebrate the first Mormon settlers to this part of the country. In fact, this holiday holds special sway, surpassing even Independence Day in importance, with July 4th commemorated as more of a practice holiday for Pioneer Day, provided it doesn't fall on a Sunday.

One of the great things about Northern Utah, though, is that it was settled as a mostly isolated agrarian society. Unlike much of the Rocky Mountain West, the folks who moved here came to stay and attempted to be largely self sufficient. Examples of this exist today, such as the fact that the Salt Lake valley and surrounding metropolitan areas still get all of their water from local sources in the Wasatch Range. What other western city can make that claim? If the West is ever required to rely mostly on it's own resources, the Wasatch Front could make a fair go of it (again, a difficult task for places like Denver, Las Vegas, Phoenix, and others).

Since we have moved to Utah and embraced this pioneering self-sufficiency, it seems fitting that tomorrow we will slaughter our first chicken. S. has been studying the killing and evisceration, and today I made the killing cone, and hung it next to the compost heap:
With those preparations made, tomorrow morning, after we milk the goats and care for the horses, we plan to pull one broody hen from the hen house and try our hand at this. With luck, we'll kill the bird and celebrate one small measure of self sufficiency with chicken soup in the afternoon.

Passing...

2011-07-09T17:11:00.000-07:00

Conway Leovy July 16, 1934 - July 9, 2011

Thank you for being my advisor and my friend. And thank you for supporting me in all that I do. I'll never forget some of our last words together, when you told me, after showing me your poetry, photography, and art that there is 'life after science'. You are so right...

Cheese!

2011-06-24T15:23:00.000-07:00

Our first batch of chevre (technically fromage blanc since I don't have the chevre molds) is hanging to drain, and within the next few hours, we'll be sampling our first goat cheese.

There were a wide range of recipes that varied in complexity for this relatively simple goat cheese. Some had you use pasteurized goat milk, or pasteurize your raw milk ahead of time, and others called for using the milk "straight from the goat" and not bothering to heat it to the culture temperature, because it was likely at the point already. Others called for special "chevre" starter that has included rennet, and others had you use a standard mesophilic starter and liquid rennet.

And all of this suddenly got me to thinking: people have made these "simple" cheeses before online cheese supply shops and detailed instructions. How did they do it?

For example, I imagine there was a time when heating a cheese to 170 degrees before cooling it down quickly with ice was technologically impossible, not to mention gathering pure starter cultures. I am enough of a microbiologist to understand the point of culturing "good" bacteria in your cheeses as a method of preservation, but we haven't always had access to these cultures. So, how did we do it?

I do know that if you want to wildly ferment cheese, the last thing you want to do is heat it to 170 degrees and kill all the organisms in it. I wonder if pasteurization became important only after we started mixing the milk from hundreds or thousands of animals before sending it to market. If you just milked your own goat, and you have assessed the health of the animal and cleanliness of the facility, is it really a worry? Or are their deadly pathogens waiting in every gram of fresh milk, waiting to kill us all.

I don't know the answer, but I do know that the recipe I used was as simple as I could make it. Fresh milk, lightly warmed, inoculated with factory cultures...

I'd like to see about getting rid of that last part!

The New Arrivals

2011-06-22T14:30:00.000-07:00

Just a couple of short days after returning from Seattle, S. and I took the plunge and finally decided to have a kid, and we got her mother in the deal. Meet Kitty (the Mom) and Cleopatra (Cleo for short) the kid. They are oberhasli/nubian crosses (hence the bay fur with the airplane ears).

S. and I both have been reading up on goats - how to house them, how to feed them, how to milk them. We visited our vet's barn to see how she does it and got some tips on milking and other issues (she also sold us the goats). However, as we have no real experience with the animals, most of our planning resulted in taking a "wait and see" approach. We took care of their basic needs by building a milking stand and goat shed (see previous posts) and had a few options for where to pasture them. Otherwise, we just took the plunge. We figured "we have horses, so how much different could it be?"

Turns out, pretty different.

E. dropped them off Monday night around milking time to find that S. and I had erected a pretty nice little temporary goat paddock and shed. The 12'x12' paddock was made of free standing hog panel. This was certainly not an ideal pen, but we figured it would keep the goats in and the dogs out for the night until we assessed more permanent housing.

E. mentioned that Kitty might "cry a bit" and took off with a wave and a smile. "Have fun," he said, and walked away with a spring in his step. He only had six milkers left at the house (down from 10 or 12) so he seemed pretty pleased. Also a little amused at us.

As soon as E. walked away, Cleo started baying a cute little "Mahhh..." that one expects from a slightly upset goat. Then Kitty laid in. Her cry sounded like the below you'd hear from a drunk frat boy yelling at his ex girlfriend's window at 2 AM. "Brawwww!", "Mehhhhhew!", "Whaaoaoar". I don't know how else to describe it, except that it was loud, prolonged, and horrible. Also, since they were housed on the lawn on the south side of the house, her bellow ricocheted off of our house, the neighbor's house, and the ward house across the way.

During the first few minutes, Kitty managed to bend the hog wire out of shape and it became clear that a more permanent situation would not wait until morning. We took her out to milk, and found that as long as we had both in hand, they were quiet and inquisitive and very easy to manage. She milked fine, producing about 20 ounces after finally figuring out the new milking stand (turns out, we had it backwards - she is used to being milked from her right side).

After the milking, we brought in the horses and turned the pair out in Maisy's paddock, where the cacophony continued. And while the volume and frequency stayed about the same, at least we had remedied the echo, a marked improvement!

Before bed, we brought the dogs out (leashed!) to see what they thought of the goats. Both of them barked and lunged at the goats, but unlike the horses, the goats stood their ground, stomped, and snorted. In the end, this might make all the difference for Captain, to have an animal that isn't intimidated by all his barking and circling. We will have to see.

After the dogs, it was off to bed. I slept fitfully given the dogs barking and Kitty braying, and S. slept not at all, but since that first night Kitty and Cleo have settled a bit, the dogs are getting accustomed to the new arrangement, and we've milked Kitty three times. So far, so good...

And I am surprised to learn how much different the goats are from our horses. Where horses are aloof and a bit standoff-ish, the goats are immediately curious and companionable. If you open a gate, the goats crowd out, then stand next to you or follow you around. Yesterday, S. and I spent some time in the back pasture with them, sitting on logs and watching them browse in the bushes. Within a few minutes, Cleo was sitting at S.'s feet, curled into a comfortable ball chewing her cud. That was completely unexpected.

There are horse people. Turns out, there may also be goat people. And I think I'm one of them.

Milking Stand

2011-06-20T15:33:00.001-07:00

Stacy and I finished the milking stand yesterday, in preparation for our two new goats.
The "table" part of the stand is a piece of furniture we've been carting around for as least as long as I have known Stacy, and Stacy has had it longer than that (so we are talking 25+ years here). The table came from a barn in New Jersey, reportedly used to kill chickens (we've always just called it "the chicken killing table"). It has be re-purposed as a desk, a kitchen table, a banquet, and an outdoor plant stand. We have cut down the legs once, added taller legs, and cut them back down again. Finally, it has found it's new home, not as the "chicken killing table" but the "goat milking stand."
The remainder of the stand is various other pieces of re-purposed materials. The front slats are mostly from some bench parts stolen by kids and left in the yard of our last house (we tried to locate the owners, to no avail). The feed box is from cedar planks left over from the fence we built at the new place. It really is a "franken-stand", but to me, it looks beautiful. We didn't even go to Home Depot once, as it was created from materials already on the farm.
I think I finally know why Stacy dragged the table from New Jersey, and we dragged it from Iowa (after selling nearly all of our other stuff) to Seattle and then back to Utah. It has finally found it's true purpose.
Now, we are waiting on a phone call from the owner, and then we'll go pick them up. Waiting is so hard!

Goat House

2011-06-20T15:32:00.001-07:00

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Assessment

2011-06-14T10:43:00.000-07:00

This morning I had planned on visiting with my old graduate school advisor for one more time before I left. He is dying of cancer, and I figured it was probably my last time to see him.

Earlier, his wife called to tell me that he isn't feeling well and needed to cancel the visit. She went on to say that he really enjoyed our last visit, and left me with the impression there would likely be no opportunity to reschedule.

Which means our last visit was probably our last. I hope that isn't the case, but I suppose in reality that is always a possibility, with anything and everything.

With that in mind, since I am leaving Seattle the day after tomorrow, I thought I would make a list of my accomplishments and lessons learned while here, both personal and professional. Since this could very well be the last time I ever come here, I am pleased that I seemed to have made the most of it. In no particular order, and cognizant that I am missing some things:

Met with VPL colleagues and outlined a research agenda.
Spent over an hour visiting with my graduate advisor in his Lake Washington home, probably for the last time.
Spent time with T. kayaking around Lake Union and Lake Washington
Visited with C&T (and little D!) many, but not enough, times.
Vacationed with S. at the Mother Earth News fair.
Had lunch at the Crab Pot with S.
Took a rowboat out on Lake Union.
Walked to Pike Place Market nearly every day, sometimes twice per day.
Walked a lot (to UW, back from UW, to Pike Place, waterfront, etc). Conservatively, I've clocked at least 60 miles since I've been here.
Took a ferry ride. Might take another one.
Saw Wendell Berry at Benaroya Hall.
Had Pizza Lunch with UW folks, and caught up with some old friends.
Went to the Experience Music Project twice (once alone and another time with my sister).
Hung out all day at the Folk Life Festival.
Ate at the Sound View Cafe (twice!).
Visited Pioneer Square and the International District with S.
Got a massage (twice!).
Ate mini-donuts (more than twice!).

Lessons Learned:

I've been reminded of the benefits and liabilities of working at a research university.
After seeing the level of activism in the city regarding lifestyle changes and the focus on the environment, I am encouraged about the direction we're heading.
After living with a perpetually sore neck and jaw (stress), I have learned the value of a good massage. I'm also learning how to take better care of myself.
Given access to plentiful good food and relatively cheap beer and cocktails, I tend to indulge too much in both (erp). Looking forward to more work back on the farm!
I've been deeply reminded of how much Utah is my home, and that I have developed a very strong sense of place there.
I've learned how lucky I am to have the neighbors we have.
I've learned how lucky I am to have the colleagues I have.
Finally, I've become keenly aware of how important our move the farm has been. I am looking forward to getting back and getting busy.

So, that's the list for the first month of sabbatical in Seattle. Not too bad, and since sabbatical officially starts on July 1, I'm already ahead of the game.

On Thursday, I'm off to Saint Louis for the Council on Undergraduate Research Business Meeting and then back home. And then the real work begins.

Turn-around tourism

2011-06-11T12:57:00.000-07:00

During my last week or so here in Seattle, I've been walking the waterfront and through the Market every day, because, for some reason, I just can't get enough of it. The mixture of Pike Place's working waterfront and cheeky tourist stop just thrills me. If you sit at the bar a Lowell's, you'll see fresh-off-the-boat fisherman sitting next to coiffed socialites. Quite the contrast.

And, largely, the Market is unchanged since I first came to Seattle 27 years ago. It seems that the hard-won vendors slots at the Market encourage the younger generation to continue the tradition, since many of these are the same businesses yet with decidedly younger purveyors.

Some things have changed, at the Market and in and around Seattle. S. and I found to our utter dismay that Elliott Bay Book Company is no longer in Elliott Bay. It isn't out of business, just moved to Capitol Hill. But what is Pioneer Square without EBC? Even my other Pioneer Square favorite, Metzger's Maps, moved - in this case, up to Pike Place. The move seems to have erased a lot of their inventory of true collector maps, and most of the store caters to tourists with travel books and maps and the like. Still a fun store to poke around in, and arguably more useful to both the actual traveller and the armchair variety. But I do miss the quirky, sometimes dusty memories I have from the old place. The new place is a little like going into Idaho Book and Supply back home. Which actually says a lot for Idaho Book and Supply. I'll have to go there more often!

I did find an intriguing book in Metzger's called "101 Things You Gotta See Before You're 12" and I thought "Oh no, another impossible list of travel adventures I'll never get around to...this one with a deadline!" What a horrible thing to do to a kid. Especially if the kid reading it just passed 12 (or is almost 40). What if they didn't get to everything?

When I opened the book, though, it was filled with things like "visit a quality second hand store", "go to a petting zoo", "visit your parent's home town", "go to an art gallery", etc. In fact, I am sure a motivated kid could probably complete 99% of the items in the book without ever leaving their home town except to hit "a national park", "a gateway to the new world", and things of that nature. I was even more excited to say that I have, in fact, done all 101 "Things You Gotta See Before You're 12" and I am pretty sure I got them done all before I finished my 12th year, picking up the last few during that first visit to Seattle 27 years ago.

But now I have a new goal: I have not completed all 101 "Things You Gotta See Before You're 12" in Ogden, UT. And, given I'm just starting my sabbatical year, I might just be able to pull it off.

I'll tick off a few of the more difficult ones, like "see an ocean" while I am here, and then get the rest after I get home.

And since the book even comes with stickers, I am motivated.

What do we have on the ship that's good?

2011-06-01T08:14:00.000-07:00

After nearly a week immersed in Wendell Berry and discussions with my colleagues about the state of the world, I am starting to get fatigued with a steady diet of doom and gloom. At least my friend T. has a sense of humor, though an admittedly dark one: he calculated that with a 2.3% growth rate in energy usage, we have 1100 years before the surface of Earth gets as hot as the surface of the Sun. Gotta love that exponential.

Still, it gets me thinking that I need some carrots to go with my stick. I've seen all the data, I understand the projections, and I know everything is going to hell in a hand basket. The climate is shifting, we are running out of oil, the population is exploding, people can't get enough food and water, wars, famine, disease, death. And we had better do something about it, or else.

Faced with all of this, I am reminded of the quote from Gene Kranz when faced with the disaster of Apollo 13: "What do have on the ship that's good".

Some things I have noticed here in Seattle:

1. Dozens and dozens of people on their bicycles, rain or shine. The density of riders is not as high as other cities, like Bejing or Amsterdam, but it is high enough that nearly all the streets have bike lanes and road signs (with mileage!) for the riders.
2. Mass transit is packed, and I have been having a relatively easy time of getting from A to B (though UTA still trumps KC Metro for service, go Utah!)
3. Pike Place Market has booths from local farms.
4. Nearly every neighborhood has a year-round farmers' market.
5. My friends don't think we are crazy, and want to get a few chickens at their house (and damn the covenant!)

Compared to the Seattle we left eight years ago, things have really changed.

With so many positive changes, I thought I would spend some time reading about the future as we want it to be, rather than as we fear it to be. I did a web search, and found this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0USn7eufXps

And, surprisingly, that seems to be as good as it gets.

So, perhaps it is time to invent something that isn't already on the Internet? Where is S. when you need her?

What Matters?

2011-05-30T11:39:00.000-07:00

A quote from Canadian ecologist Stan Rowe from Wendell Berry's book of essays What Matters?:

"After all, well-educated people, not illiterates, are wrecking the planet. Schools and universities are morally bankrupt [and] most research is worthless busywork..."

Berry himself continues:

"I would add that some research is worse than worthless; it contributes directly to the wrecking of the planet."

I thought of this when a friend and physics colleague pointed out that...

"...people expect science and technology to solve the current problems, but if you walk the halls of physics programs in the nation and look for what is being done about this," -- This being peak oil, environmental damage, climate change, the population "hockey stick", etc -- "you hear nothing but crickets."

My dissonance is further compounded by a recent blog post of one biologist claiming that the entire field of astrobiology is an irrelevant exercise designed to secure NASA funding. As I posted a few pointed Facebook comments defending my field of research, the two quotes above came back to me.

Meanwhile, S. is on the farm holding back the flood waters and trying to keep our place "afloat" through a wet spring, while I sit in an apartment in Seattle worried about my veggie starts and baby chicks 800 miles away.

So, what matters?

The "Re" in Research

2011-05-28T09:55:00.000-07:00

I was nervous about coming back to the University of Washington. Much of this was due to the normal nerves of starting a new project with new people, that nervousness that is really the energy you need to perform well and make a contribution.

Some of it was the anxiety of returning to a place you'd loved, a place that, at the time, you never wanted to leave. Some of it was seeing people again when you knew you weren't at your best the last time you saw them. Returning to UW felt a bit like I was going home to see family. You want to see them, tell them you love them, but there is all this...baggage.

Also, when I come back to someplace I love, I am always apprehensive of the changes that inevitably occur. People leave, restaurants close, new buildings arise. There is this tension between wanting the place to stay as it was and being excited about what it has become.

But arriving on Monday, it's as if someone had hermetically sealed the Physics and Astronomy Building for the past eight years, only to unearth it for my arrival. The classrooms and halls are exactly the same, down to the scratches from the handles on the bathroom doors. And while there are new posters and demonstrations showcased in the halls, nearly all the ones that were there when I was a grad student were still there, along with many I had prepared myself. The photos on the faculty board were the same, except for the addition of several researchers and postdocs, many of whom were graduate students with me. Even a faculty member from another institution, visiting on sabbatical, was a postdoc here in 2001. To top it off, one of my very first undergraduate research students is currently a postdoc in the department. While many people are missing, there is a critical mass of faculty and former students that it gave me the strange impression that I had never actually left. Feeling that I suddenly had been transported back in time, I spent much of the Monday and next day sitting in the visitors' office staring out the window, or roaming the halls in search of former colleagues.

On Tuesday afternoon during the Astrobiology seminar (same time, same channel), I noted one faculty member eating the same cup of soup, dozing off after the same number of minutes, watching a talk that could have come right out of the Mars Exploration Program, circa 2001, with somewhat more sophisticated robotics. A prominent faculty member asked the same clarifying question the grad students already knew the answer to, the graduate students rolled their eyes in exactly the same way I used to, and another gruff researcher lobbed the same softball questions he was famous for in 2001.

This performance was repeated during the Astronomy Seminar on Thursday. Except for a significant upgrade to the cookie and coffee selection, something in Seattle that is always immune to budget cuts, everything was the same. I took the same seat I always took, near the aisle behind Emeritus Prof. G., who could snore through the entire seminar and still wake with enough time to ask for clarification on a subtle point we all happened to miss. The speaker, from a prominent eastern university, still went over time by a number of minutes proportional to the prestige of his institution.

Surprisingly, the mainstay of my time at UW - pizza lunch - has changed the most. All of the graduate students are new and shiny, the pizza is from a new (and better) pizzeria off the Ave, and the prices have gone up from $2.50 to $2.50 per slice. They must be paying the grad students more, or instituted some tiered payment plan, because no one was complaining.

Pizza Lunch kicked me out of my timeloop revelry enough to remind me what I'm doing here, and by Friday afternoon I had made significant progress on my work. The conversation helped during lunch, with everyone asking me about Utah, our farm, and our life, reminding me that I have roots elsewhere, and someplace to call home, that the last eight years were not just a vibrant, beautiful dream, but reality.

Bus Bingo...a new mobility game

2011-05-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

Here are rules for a game I am inventing:

1. Disable smart phone or other mobile device.
2. Go for a walk in the city.
3. If you pass a bus stop when the bus arrives, get on the bus.
4. Check the bus number. The smallest number greater than 0 is the number of stops you stay on this bus.
5. After the prescribed number of stops, get off the bus.
6. Continue your walk.
7. Repeat.

Note: This can become a very expensive game as soon as you are out the Seattle free ride district, so make sure to get a transfer.

Wendell Berry

2011-05-28T08:56:00.000-07:00

Tuesday night I took advantage of living in the city to take in a reading by one of our favorite authors and activists, Wendell Berry. This opportunity came in a moment of serendipity when I downloaded the Seattle Times, saw the blurb in the paper, and decided to go. After all, this was the whole motivation for staying **right downtown**. The blurb read

"Sold out, but a few tickets may be available at the door"

If I read something like that and I was living in the U District, I would not have bothered. But since it was within walking distance from my apartment, I figured, what the hell.

Leaving work by bus at 4:30 pm straight to Benaroya Hall, I figured I'd grab a ticket if they had one, then stroll back to my place for dinner before the show. If they didn't have one...well, I'd stroll back to my place for dinner and no show.

When I arrived, a sign out front informed us

"Wendell Berry Ticket Sales and Will Call to take place at this window AT 6PM"

This prompted me (and about 20 other people) to ask the guy selling Seattle Symphony Tickets "Are you selling Wendell Berry tickets now? Are they sold out?". He politely pointed to the sign and responded as if this were the first time anyone had ever asked him this question.

"I'm sorry, sir, but those tickets will go on sale at this window at 6 PM". What a great guy!

I had an hour to kill. My options: walk back to my place and drop off my stuff or grab a bite out and come back at 6 PM. As I walked out the door, I noticed some folks who looked suspiciously like Wendell Berry fans walking in. "Oh no you don't" I thought, and popped back in to secure my place in line.

When 6 PM rolled around, I learned that there would be tickets available for the "Rush Line" at 7:25 PM, which was already forming outside the theatre doors. I "rushed" over and took the fourth spot in line.

It dawned on me that I was standing in line for Wendell Berry tickets. Not Star Wars. Not U2. Wendell Berry. It further occurred to me that on a Tuesday night in Seattle, a self-proclaimed back-to-the-land local food activist had managed to sell out a 2,500 person performance hall. No other show this week, or on the weekend, managed to do that. Something tells me the wave of urban agrarianism is swelling.

WB read a number of poems, followed by a story, and a few more poems. What he called a "prose sandwich". The story, about Grover and Beulah facing down the sale of the family farm to a developer, had me swearing that I would never let that happen to our neighbors. We'll outbid the bastards if we have to!

Afterward, he spoke a bit about what it means to be an agrarian activist. He said there are a lot of smart people leading from the bottom, and that it might be possible for some of the leaders at the top to help as well. "But I kinda hope they don't get wind of it and mess it up!"

He also introduced me to a new concept called "perennialism" (in lieu of "sustainability"). "In the 200 years of American History, we haven't been able to sustain anything."

Afterward, he was asked questions from the audience.

Q:

"What is the best advice you have for a young farmer?"

A:

"Listen to the old ones"

Q:

"What is the single biggest problem we face?"

A:

...(this one stopped him cold)...

Q:

"What is the second biggest?" (laughter)

A:

(now that I think about it, I don't think he ever answered this one)

Meeting an old friend

2011-05-27T14:27:00.000-07:00

I met with C. today
My advisor from graduate school
He is dying, gracefully

He's mobile, but frail and in pain
Yet he remains charming, humorous
Interested in others
Still the conversationalist I recall from years ago

I saw a new side of him
His poetry and art
He's a big Wendell Berry fan
And charitable, working on community projects

Confined to the house
He takes breathtaking photos
Of the Lake from his veranda

He told me, "See, there is life after science"
I get to visit with him again next week.
To return the poetry he lent me
That he wrote

Views from my apartment

2011-05-24T13:34:00.001-07:00

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

The person you'd like to be...

2011-05-24T12:50:00.000-07:00

Whenever S. and I go to southern Utah, she tells me the red rock makes her feel like the person she would like to be.

I have the same reaction to the water of the Puget Sound. I sit at a Market cafe (my favorite is the Sound View) and my eyes lift up and over the water. I can hear the seagulls and I can smell the fish from the market. I feel like someone who is reflective, someone who has the confidence to take a few moments to think about things and contemplate a new idea. That ever-present push to be someplace else goes away. I am someone who can take the time to pause for the view or look into store windows, to marvel at a small city park, or take the longer road up the side street just to see where it goes. It no longer matters so much that everything is on the way to where I need to be, because where I need to be is...right here.

I am not sure if this is the type of person S. becomes when she hits the red rock, but I think it is, or someone very much like it. I also think this person is not as dependent on place as I once thought. I become this person when I am near the Puget Sound because it is here that I have always taken the time to be that person. Since I was 13 and rode the Seattle ferry to Bainbridge in my first outings by myself, to the time I'd take as a grad student to sit in the Market and enjoy the view. This is the place I have always come to remind myself what it is like to slow down and think, savor, recollect, and enjoy.

The funny thing is, this place could be anywhere, including my own home, if I work to endow it with that same sense of importance, the same reverence and gratitude that I reserve for this place. Shouldn't our homes be the place we become the person we'd like to be? Even in Utah...especially in Utah...being able to sit and gaze at Ben Lomond or Mt. Ogden, which can be done from nearly every block in the city. Letting that vast mountain take your eyes up and over, giving you that sense of calm that you are the type of person who can take a moment to think, to contemplate, and to go out of your way to see something new in your home town.

Much of these thoughts, I think, come from reading Wallace Stegner and his appreciation for all things in the West. An eloquent essay on Capitol Reef will be followed by an equally thoughtful and moving piece on Salt Lake City. And you suddenly realize that the only difference between your house and a national park is that you live there.

Some people would love to have a houseboat in Seattle. Some of those same people would probably love to have a house in the Utah mountains.

Aren't I the lucky one?

Sabbatical Officially Begins Today

2011-05-22T19:17:00.000-07:00

I've arrived in Seattle, to start a year of re-awakening and re-envisioning my professional life. I'm here to start a new research project capitalizing on the wealth of data on extrasolar planets. I plan on writing about this to help me document my year-long sabbatical.

To help you and I remember them, here are my goals:

1. Complete new, original research.
2. Write a book proposal.
3. Renew my interest and excitement in teaching and learning.

But at the moment, there is a glassblowing studio down the street that offers CLASSES! Must focus! Wait, a class in glassblowing would help with #3. Hmmmm.

Enough! To help direct my energies, I have set about to secure the necessary components of city life. In the last two hours, I have located:

1. A really good Thai restaurant.

2. A grocery store that sells "food". More on the quotes in a later post.

3. Very hoppy beer. It is the Northwest, after all.

4. Coffee.

Tomorrow morning, I plan on waking early (at 6:05, pony feeding time) to explore the neighborhood before making my way to UW for my first of many scientific meetings. I plan to walk the 3.8 miles, weather permitting. I need to do something to make up for the lack of stall mucking and other farm chores I usually do.

This is the strangest transition I've experienced. This morning, Stacy and I were drinking tea while our four horses basked in the sun, our two dogs wrestled in the grass, our ten chickens rooted for insects, and our 12 baby chicks waited to go outside. Now, a mere 12 hours later, I am listening a one poor, barking dog that has been left in the apartment all day, and I am completely alone. No dogs to feed, no ponies to ride, no eggs to collect, no partner to share it with.

There was a time when I really thought city life was for me, but now I am not sure how people can stand it. Seattle is a good place, far better than most, where people have gardens and go to great lengths to keep their dogs and cats in the city. But what will I do in the morning? Maybe I can get a part time job throwing fish in the market. That is almost like having a farm, right?

This makes me think of S's peeps in Pasadena, who can raise enough food for 4+ people on a 10th of an acre. Or the fact that the people of Taiwan grow a large fraction of their own produce, in the city. Right now, there is an empty pot of the veranda of my apartment. It begs to be filled with something living. Maybe I'll buy some herbs to grow in it for the month I am here.

Just another year...

2011-03-28T15:13:00.000-07:00

April 1st marks the one year anniversary of moving to the homestead. Recall, getting the farm was a five year plan. Huh.

Here is what we took on this year:

1. Bought a new house and farm

2. Renovated the barn

3. Fenced the paddocks

4. Built the arena

5. Renovated the barn

6. Sold the old house (one year later, nearly to the day)

In most circles, that would be enough for one year. But wait, there is more:

7. S took on her first major book project

8. S started her second major book project

9. S ran the Center for Science and Math Education

10. S saved the Center for Science and Math Education by keeping it afloat long enough to get some additional funding

11. I was favorably reviewed for tenure and promotion

All of that, and we still managed to increase the chicken flock by 10, get some raised beds built, and start planning for the upcoming garden.

I am sure I am forgetting something, but it has been a very busy year. Let's hope we can settle down to a more reasonable pace!

Next step: Goats!

Sold the house today

2011-03-01T16:51:00.001-08:00

We sold the old place today, after nearly a year. I had no idea how much that was weighing on my mind. I feel so...relaxed.

And I am all the way home.

Now, we can start moving in to the new place!!!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Bellwether

Snow today, mud tomorrow!

2011-02-20T13:31:00.000-08:00

I woke up to a few inches of snow on the farm today, and it just kept coming. Until about 1 PM or so. In the end, we got about 5-6 inches, significantly more than the 1-3 inches predicted in the news.

And it is warm today...near 36 during the snow and now upwards of 40+ in brilliant sunshine. Immediately, I think "40 in February!? It must be something out of the ordinary" and then I look at this:

http://www.wolframalpha.com/input/?i=climate+ogden+utah

and it looks like 40's in February not uncommon. If this keeps up, the snow should be gone by tomorrow. Then, mud!

Smokey escaped the yard today and went on walkabout. I only worry about this because he has a thing for chickens and I am afraid he'll go after our neighbor's ducks. Also, I worry they might shoot him if he does. So I went after him. There is nothing as maddening as a dog that looks at you, right AT you, and then runs away. Grrrr.

Captain eventually got out as well, but he came to find me instead of running after Smokey. I was very proud of him for that. I am also proud of myself for remembering that it does no good to get mad at your dog after you catch him, since that will just make him less likely to come to you next time. So, when he finally did come to me, I praised him and took him home.

And then went out and repaired the fence.

After that adventure, I got a shot of the new addition (see above).

Nearly a year...

2011-02-19T09:39:00.000-08:00

...to the day that we first looked at our "farm". Here is a link to the first "Before And Afters" taken in early April of last year:

http://daysreprise.blogspot.com/2010/04/before.html

Ironically, the date of that post is the same day that the sale of our old house should be finalized. Amazing. When I think that just over a year ago we had planned to stay at the old place "forever" and now...here we are.

Some things have stayed the same: we can still walk to the bus stop, we still drive about the same (or slightly less) than we used to. We still knit, and bake, and make our own meals from food we grew ourselves.

Some things have changed. Most notably, I woke up this morning to find that the mother of all our beef meals this year (#6) gave birth to another calf, her 10th in a long career as a range cow. Dale stood in the barn with his binoculars to make sure the afterbirth came out ok and that the calf took its first suck "on the tit", as he says. The cow stood and mooed while the calf stumbled about, just barely two hours old.

It's raining today, and the calf and cow refuse to go in the loafing shed, despite Dale's best efforts to make it accommodating. He says "That cow would sooner fly to the moon then get into that shed". Sounds familiar...

I asked Dale if there was anything I could do to help. He says "Naw. Mostly when we try to help these things out, we just end up causing more trouble." Also sounds familiar.

So, we let her be, stood at a distance, and watched. She knows what to do.

I realize looking back on these posts, and those from S, that I haven't logged what has been going on this first fall and winter on the farm. I am sure I'll regret that later. But we received an offer on the house this week, a good one, and suddenly this block in my head, the piece of me that has been both here and there, just let go. And I realized that this last year has been very hard, and, in a way, I've been grieving for what we left behind. We put so much work into our first house in Utah. Painting and renovating the house until it was just the way we liked it, planting trees that had just started to really grow, harvesting our first few years of gardens, raising our first chickens. We did all of that, the two of us, all by ourselves. And it was a lot of work! To just let that go, no matter what we get in return, is just hard.

But now that it is going, we have our farm. Something both of us have always wanted. In the rain this morning, filling the troughs, watching the horses, seeing Dale's new addition to the herd, seeing all of the very hard work we've already got into this place (in real terms, lots more in one short year than we ever did in eight years at the old place) I realized something very important. I am never moving again. Everything we plant here, every improvement to the land, every time we amend the soil or fix a fence, we'll be doing it so that this place will be a better place in five years, ten years, and twenty years down the line. This is our farm and our home.

And I don't have it in me to leave all that hard work behind again.

So, here we are.

It rained today, in mid february. The temperature is in the 40's. The horses are outside with their blankets on, muddy and happy. The dogs are wet, filthy, and also happy. Because of the rain, I can wait another day to move the manure heap, and I am happy. And I'm finally home.

Bridging the gap

2010-10-25T19:18:00.000-07:00

Today was a first for me - I got a comment on a blog post from someone I didn't know! Exciting, even if it was on a blog post written by someone else.

The post was from a vegan woman in Florida named Bea who objected to our killing and eating of Number 16. She raised a couple of important points that I wholeheartedly agree with. First, that "food animals" are a cultural construct (that is, I will eat my cow but not my dog, which is the opposite of some countries), and, second, that we must stop factory farming. I thought this was enough to give us some common ground, even though we disagree on the ultimate fate of well cared for farm animals.

I was reminded of some comments I heard a while back regarding ranchers, farmers, and the environmental movement. It seems that in our effort to save the land, we demonized those who care for the land, arguably, better than the rest of us. Granted, they care for it from the perspective of productivity rather than wilderness protection. But, they benefit more than anyone from having the land and water free of toxic waste. Yet, somehow, even though the environmentalists and the farmers/ranchers could agree on this much, that wasn't enough to band together and stop the coal plant from being built, or the tailings pile from being dumped in the river. Rather, it was more important for each group to be right, to have their values upheld completely. What could have been a powerful partnership led to more division, and, ultimately, the polluters won.

Which brings me back to Bea's comments. Clearly we have differing views on what is compassionate or necessary for the proper care of livestock. But we can both agree that factory farming must stop.

Is it possible to agree to disagree until that goal is reached? And then take up the further task of reconciling our differences?

Maybe if the vegans, vegetarians, and cattle ranchers banded together on this, we could put an end to the sick practices of factory farming. We could make small, family farms viable again and make some progress toward a saner food system.

Then we can argue about whether or not we should be eating animals...

On the Homestead this week - "Days" Reprise

2010-10-25T19:14:00.000-07:00

Another reprise from S's blog...reminding me we have been coming at this for a while now...

We are getting ready for winter, and reaping the harvest!

15 pounds of peaches (and a lot of sugar!) are being turned, by microbe, into 5 gallons of peach wine. It's an experiment, but it already smells delicious.

We finally invested in a pressure canner, and then practiced using it on tomatoes that didn't need to be pressure-canned, just to be sure we knew what we were doing!
So this weekend, we put up:
4 quarts of tomatoes (it would have been five, but one jar cracked in the canner!)
11 pints of mixed dill pickles
5 half-pints of peach jam---I have finally made a jam that 'jammed'! Rock out!
Several pounds of pesto are in the freezer, frozen in ice-cube trays, then stored in a Ziploc for easy portioning.

We've got another batch of anaheims ready to be roasted. If we could just stop eating them all as soon as we roast them, we might actually get some canned up for winter!

Yesterday, we got the first eggplant. And promptly made Thai curry. Mmmmm.... curry. We are now over 100 pounds of produce! There are more apples still to come, and eggplant, and tomatoes and (maybe) corn. Oh. And lots and lots of carrots and winter squash and more potatoes.

Quinoa for dinner tonight, cornmeal muffins for breakfast Sat/Sun, brown rice last night, whole wheat pizza dough on Saturday. We are gradually adjusting to whole grains. It takes a little getting used to, but eventually, your stomach adjusts to the fiber.

We bought 50 pounds of rolled oats at the IFA, for $16. This sounds like crazy talk, and it might be. But I go through at least one of those big cardboard Quaker oat cans a month in the summer, making granola for John, and two a month in the winter when I'm eating oatmeal. This bag should last us until next year, for about the cost of two cans of oats. It might be crazy---we'll see how it goes. We can always feed it to the horses and the chickens! It's interesting to be eating the same things that I feed my horse... maybe I shouldn't think too hard about that.

Many weeks ago, we bought a 50 pound bag of hard red wheat, and are gradually working our way through it. J (the baker!) tells me that it's very different to work with, but he likes it. It's fun to grind it in the grinder, and you just can't get any fresher than that!

It is not lost on us that we get more and more 'Utah', the longer we live here. ; )

We cleaned out under the grape arbor, and moved a table and chairs out there. It turns out to be a wonderful place to have dinner! But we are now out of wine completely. ; ) I sure hope that merlot-cab blend that's ripening in the basement turns out! We have a Mexican Cerveza to make, as soon as we can get back down to G3 and pick up some yeast. Maybe that will be Thursday evening's project.

The CSA box comes tomorrow. I wonder what will be in it?!

The change in seasons

2010-10-25T08:06:00.000-07:00

Just documenting this quickly, so I remember:

Today, the first "big" storm of the season, and the first hard freeze forecast for tonight. We have a few minor issues that need to be dealt with near-term:

Clean out the gutters (again!)
Put gutters on the hay barn
Reseal joint between hay barn and garage
Lay more barn mulch on paths to reduce mud
Fix leak near furnace vent in roof

All in all, not too bad, considering we got a month's worth of rain in a few hours last night.

Number 16, Reprise

2010-10-24T17:37:00.000-07:00

In honor of the Harvest Party, Stacy's first post on #16...

---

June 13, 2010

On our way out to bring the horses in, we came across our neighbor, worming and tagging his new steers. He breeds most of his own, but these four he bought at the cattle auction---they are this year's calves, and one of them is completely wild. So we got to watch as he maneuvered them through the chute, gave them their shots, punched holes in their ears for the tags, and then let them out again, onto the knee-high grass.

The wild one gave some trouble, but Dale just stood back and looked until he figured out how to get it done. I know the feeling in his head, as he turned the puzzle pieces this way and that, taking his time, until he figured out how to get the wild one by himself in the chute. We've been doing a lot of this kind of physical problem-solving lately. Again and again, we learn that sometimes you just have to step back and think about it until it all clicks, and you see what to do.

Dale had brought one of his older steers in with these young ones, because 'he's a particularly docile and pleasant steer'. This is Number 16. Now, I've had my eye on 16 ever since we moved in, because I thought, 'Now THAT is a good-looking steer'. I have, apparently, learned to judge steers from Bill and Carl, because Dale also thinks he's a particularly good-looking steer. This is all so familiar to me, what he's doing over there. I recognize it. It's comforting to see someone farm the way I remember it from when I was small. I have a level of knowledge about this that goes down into my toes, because I learned it hanging around the barn when I was too small to know better than to eat raw soybeans.

So then, we were leaning over the fence, talking to Dale and Genevieve, and I got my order in for 1/2, possibly a whole beef, come fall butchering time. (A couple of friends have said they want to go in on it with us, so it's not as crazy as it sounds!) Dale raises his beef on pasture, without hormones, all the way to five weeks before butchering. Then he feeds them grain for a short time to tenderize them. Then he has the butcher come, right there, on his property, so the steers don't get scared or dragged or beaten. They never have time to panic or get upset. They just get quickly and efficiently killed and butchered into little packages for the freezer. Our neighbors make an event of it, betting on weights with lots of friends who come around to help or heckle, as the case may be.

This probably sounds weird, but I'm ok with watching my food grow up, then watching it be killed, and watching it be put in freezer packages---I know number 16 is living a good steer life, safe from injury, accident and predators. He is cared for and husbanded. I know Dale knows him personally, as an individual. That matters to me.

And I also know that my hamburger will come from one healthy animal, instead of thousands killed all on the same day in one of America's 17 (!!!!!) slaughterhouses, ground together with meat from Mexico, Argentina and New Zealand. It's a price I'm willing to pay for my food, to watch it grow, to learn to know it, to learn it's habits and it's personality. And in the end, to make it part of me. Oh, yeah, and to help my neighbor live the life he loves, which reminds me so strongly of the life someone I love has led.

It doesn't get any more local than this. I could be vegetarian instead, and I leaned that way for a while, when I first started learning about our 'modern' food system, and felt powerless to make any changes. But I don't think that meat is the problem. Dale and his cattle are not the problem. My flock of laying hens is not the problem. Factory farms are the problem, whether they are growing beef or tomatoes. There are worse things in the world than death, and many of them can be found at feedlots, slaughterhouses and factory farms.

So I'll buy number 16. And every time I have beef, I'll think of his black coat glistening in the sun, and his contented munching on grass up to his belly, and his chasing the labrador, who gets just a little too close sometimes. And I'll be a little thoughtful, but not upset. Because I value the life my neighbor and Bill and Carl choose to live. My time on the farm when I was a kid taught me that there's value in living a good life, and there's value in sacrifice. Sometimes the sacrifice comes in the middle, as it does for most people. And sometimes it comes at the end, as it does for some people, (soldiers especially come to mind), and all of our food animals. Sacrifice comes. And there is worse to make of it than a plate of ribs shared with friends for Derby Day. Or a hamburger cookout with family on the Fourth of July. Or even just a good home-cooked meal after a hard day of putting up fence in the rain and the wind and the cold---fence to protect these steers or their kin.

Number 16. Now THAT's a good-looking steer.

Bellwether Farm: Number 16

2010-10-06T20:25:00.000-07:00

Bellwether Farm: Number 16: "Tonight, I ate a heart that was ticking less than 12 hours ago, cooked in a stew with broth made from a tail that was twitching less than 12..."

We did it...

2010-09-07T19:48:00.000-07:00

...and I had record this for posterity. We are five months into our five year plan, and, well, we're four years and seven months ahead of schedule.

Last January, S and I made a plan to move to a small farm, to bring the horses home. We planned to grow our chicken flock, get some more area for the garden, and start being a little more self sufficient, produce more of our own stuff. We gave ourselves five years to find a place, build the barn, and start our own small farm.

Since April 1, we've:

1. Moved to the new house

2. Deconstructed the property, stripping it down to bare pasture and a shell of a barn

3. Rebuilt the barn

4. Installed a riding arena

5. Put in proper horse paddocks

6. Designed and outfitted a *very* safe and pleasant horse barn, complete with tack room

7. Fenced in the front for the dogs

8. Learned to manage a small pasture

9. Canned and preserved a lot of the neighbor's garden (with consent!)

10. Secured hay for winter

11. Saved enough money to pay our property taxes

At this point, our new place is ready for a winter over. Yes, we still need to do a couple of minor things - buy the neighbor's cow, put up shavings for the winter, get a freezer, buy a snow plow for the ATV, etc. I'm sure the list goes on and on.

But at the moment, we can sit here with our heads above water and look at the results of what happens when you start out on your five year plan.

You just might finish a bit early....

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.." - Bilbo Baggins

Before and after...

2010-07-20T13:11:00.000-07:00

Google Maps has updated the imagery of our new house since we've moved in. I'm excited because it documents a pivotal moment in our lives, and shows how much hard work we have put into the farm in such a short period of time. I am also excited because I can pinpoint, to nearly the day, when this image was taken (something like 1 pm, June 16, 2010), because:

Our friend's truck is in the driveway (which we borrowed after the June 2 high altitude balloon launch, when our truck broke down).
The arena is finished and the fences are all up, T and MM are in the paddocks, but there's no sign of Maisy and Harley, so it had to be before June 18.
We're holding on to the dressage stuff after the Chicken Event and prior to the Golden Spike Event on the weekend of June 19.

So, who needs family snapshots any more? Maybe I should check streetview and see if we have some shots of us drinking beer with the neighbors. Speaking of which, there are some cool things to notice in these images:

You can actually see the horses in the fields, and you can tell which is which (Music is the paint).
You can see both dogs running north of the paddocks, and you can tell which is which (Captain is the beefy, slow one)
You can see the old chicken coop (we just built a new one last week, keep up Google!)
I am pretty sure you can see us sharing a beer with the neighbor under the tree just west of the chickens. Don't worry, Utah DABC - note shadows of the trees, it is after noon!

You should all run off and check Google Maps to see if they are documenting any changes you've been making recently. If not, request a flyover!

The move begins...

2010-03-31T19:45:00.000-07:00

For the last several weeks, I've been focused on a pile of poo. Raccoon poo, to be exact. And today I got to throw it in the garbage. It was a good day.

This particular pile of poo was resting atop a stack of straw, sitting in a barn on a farm we didn't own until today. Perfectly good straw, if you could look past that pile of poo. And, in case I forgot to mention it, today I got to throw away the pile of poo and liberate the pile of usable straw underneath it. I moved the straw across our new barn, I stacked it neatly, and threw away the poo.

I think this was a beachhead on the new property. Our farm. I find this a little overwhelming, because we've been talking about this for a long time. And here it is, we are doing it. And it is a lot of work. But good work. They type of work that makes water taste like wine (and wine taste like whiskey).

It is also the type of experience that makes me realize I can't control everything. The dogs will chase horses, a cat will fly out of the moldy, raccoon-poo-covered straw right into your face, and you will scream like a girl when that happens, I'm here to tell you.

But we made the beachhead. Straw as been moved, hay pallets laid, shavings stacked. The dogs are covered in horse manure, mud, and more horse manure. The truck is loaded with dusty, moldy caste-offs left by the previous owners. Tomorrow we'll take several loads to the dump. Tomorrow the dogs will chase the horses and bark at the neighbors cows. Tomorrow we'll clean up and fix and untie and build. Always, tomorrow there will be more.

And we have it now. We are sailing out of the shallows. Finally!

The first harvest

2009-06-19T19:21:00.001-07:00

The radishes are the first up! These were practically jumping out of
the ground.

Name that pup!!

2009-04-05T06:56:00.001-07:00

We are taking suggestions for the new one.

In for the day

2009-01-25T06:45:00.001-08:00

Between rain and snow, I think the captain has the right idea.

The Doctrine of Preemption

2009-01-19T13:37:00.002-08:00

In the spirit of the upcoming inauguration, and on the last day when the "Doctrine of Preemption" will be a guiding principle behind US policy, I'm posting this photo and taking ownership of this event before any of my students find out this photo is on the web.

Yes, that is me next to my friend Marcus Divita roaming the halls of Green Mountain High School dressed for "twin day" or some such nonsense. Yes, that is my real hair, and, no, we were not fans of Wham! Depeche Mode, Aha, and Duran Duran, but not Wham!. Never Wham!. Thanks to Marcus for bringing back these happy, carefree days. I wish I still had the shirt.

In a further tribute to tomorrow, I seem to recall Marcus and I running for student body president and vice president, respectively. At least, I think that was Marcus. In any event, we didn't win, saving the world from our fledgling political careers. We are better off with Barack and Joe.

To tomorrow!

Butter!

2009-01-14T19:23:00.001-08:00

This will sound completely bonkers but, apparently, if you take regular cream and whip it like mad, past the point of soft peaks, beyond stiff peaks, past where little curds begin to separate, and a little bit further than that, you get...butter.

I know! It was quite a sight to see. SG and I have always had a problem because our home delivery dairy doesn't have unsalted butter. I'm a bit of a butter nazi when it comes to unsalted butter. Since I mostly bake with it, there ... must ... not ... be ... salt. So I've been stuck buying crappy grocery store butter and suffering in "silence".

They, SG finds a blog post describing how to make butter from whipping cream. I can't believe nobody ever thought of this before! What a revelation. Imagine how much happier the cows will be.

And the butter tastes just like cream! Amazing!

I can't wait for breakfast.

ps. That stuff in the jar? Butter milk! For making pancakes!

Introducing Captain...back to Utah

2008-12-30T11:02:00.000-08:00

Captain and I returned from Socorro on Sunday to find the house buried in several feet of snow. Thanks to a debilitating condition I would rather not discuss (brought on by too much road food and too much time in the car) I was hardly up to the task of clearing the 30 feet of compacted snow and ice from road to driveway. I did try, until I realized the next shovel full of snow would likely wreck my back as well.

Plan B was much simpler: I locked the hubs on the F250 in our second driveway, threw it into 4x4, blasted out of the drift (think Steve Martin and John Candy in Planes, Trains, and Automobiles with Captain playing the role of Dell Griffith) and then drove over the snow in the driveway behind the truck to flatten in. I beached the car and walked from there.

But today, I have triumph. It only took three days, but as I slopped the last heave of ice out of the way, I held the shovel above my head and howled "I have done it!!!!". This had the added benefit of scaring away the two college punks looking at the rental house across the street.

But Captain is the real star. He stood by me watching the street, rolling in and biting at the snow, and generally being a good dog. I think he'll like it here.

Later:

I just realized: I was playing the role of Dell Griffith, since I was driving. I didn't want you to get the idea I let Captain pilot the truck. I'm also sure I said "we need to rock it a bit."

Always listen to your spouse

2008-12-28T17:34:00.001-08:00

When she says get a pup, get a pup!!

Radio astronomer communicates with another lifeform

2008-12-18T13:29:00.000-08:00

A novel use of the VLA: Search for Canine Intelligence.

Cassie, The Best Dog Ever, 1997 - 2008

2008-11-30T15:26:00.001-08:00

Our dear friend Cassie succumbed to canine lymphoma over Thanksgiving. I am thankful that SG was here with us, and that Cassie went quickly. She was a dignified pooch, and it is such a blessing that she did not suffer.

Cassie, I will miss you more than I can say. You have been an integral part of our lives for the past 10 years, and you have helped remind us of life's most important things: eat fresh bread every day (if you can get it off the counter), chase your dreams (even if they smell like skunk) and remember that "or" is a dirty word. Thank you for being our best friend, and the Best Dog Ever.

New Rig: Update

2008-11-15T11:59:00.001-08:00

I just got back from our maiden voyage to the grocery store, and what a smooth ride! The trailer, no surprise, actually stabilizes the bike. The drag does make the average speed of the bike about 30% less, but there is no noticeable increase in effort. Again, even up hills, you just go slower, but it doesn't require much extra work, even under load. The first trip included the following prioritized list of supplies:

1 six pack of beer

2 boxes of doggie snacks

1 lb butter

1 qt yogurt

1 pack cream cheese (for secret special thanksgiving breakfast)

1 can black beans

1 bottle laundry soap

1 bottle dish soap

1 bag fruit and nut granola

1 jar of chili garlic sauce (Sambal)

6 rolls of toilet paper

1 large bottle of olive oil

1 large bottle of balsamic vinegar

1 small bag of jelly bellies

5 apples

2 lemons

2 limes

1 bunch green onions

1 red pepper

1 green pepper

1 bag of mushrooms

1 new hardback book (Stephen King short stories)

Not a bad haul for a guy on a bike!

My new "rig"

2008-11-15T08:49:00.001-08:00

There are a lot of gear rigs:

SG and I have a Ford F250 pulling a three-horse with tack and dressing room rig.

Cassie has a six-foot leather quick-release leash and collar rig.

Larry and the "Daryls" have dual quick-fill, auto-release water dispensers and tempered metal feeding rig.

I am currently rockin"g" my Fender Strat with 10 W practice amp rig (everyone starts someplace).

HARBOR has a Kenwood TM-D710 ham radio with 1/4 wave antenna and portable power supply rig for tracking the high altitude balloon in the field.

My blogging rig is a MacBook Air and iPhone.

But this, my friends, is my new rig: A Burley Nomad cargo trailer for my bike that can haul 100 lbs! While I have been going the grocery store on my bike with saddle bags or hauling stuff by bus, now I am ready to do the big pre-T-day shopping trip...on my bike! 20 lbs of potatoes? No problem. Case of beer? We can handle it, as long as we let it settle a bit before we drink it.

I'll post some pictures of it actually set up in a bit. In the mean time, I have some details to work out. It says it can haul 100 lbs, but I can't find a motor anywhere on the trailer. Hmmmm. Maybe that is sold separately?

FAIL!

2008-11-13T17:00:00.000-08:00

I both won and lost at court today. I lost because the judge ruled I was in breach of contract. I won because he "felt my pain" and effectively deducted late fees and court costs from the plaintiff's case. The moral: submit all grievances in writing!

A scary detail: Nearly all of the other cases were "Money Lending Co." vs. "Person". The unseen costs of payday lending.

The only disappointment was when the bailiff came over and told the cub scouts it would be "less boring" in traffic court. Cub scouts have all the fun! I read over one scout's shoulder the following notes:

"Judge got mad 'cos someone didn't show up"

You will have more fun in traffic court!

Piaffe?!

2008-11-08T08:28:00.001-08:00

This link from Wikipedia is obviously not me (or my horse) but the animation is a Piaffe, where the horse performs a collected trot pretty much in place.

I rode Music Man yesterday...and he knows how to do this! Frankly, it was the most exillerating experience I've had on a horse since riding cross country eight years ago. What fun!

Now I can start focusing on my position, since Music Man apparently can handle himself.

Thanks again to SG, Trish, and Gail for convincing me to ride him. What a great experience!

You heard is here first

2008-11-05T04:48:00.000-08:00

With 99% reporting, McCain lead Utah with only 63% of the vote. Hot damn! In this state, that is a landslide victory for Democrats!

MCCAIN Calls to Concede the Election

2008-11-04T20:12:00.000-08:00

BOYA! Finally, my America is back!

I am going to bed!

More calls...

2008-11-02T12:17:00.000-08:00

I called another 100+ people yesterday in the Colorado GOTV campaign for Obama.

(By the way, I've been feeling a little guilty about this, since I don't actually live in Colorado. But I was raised in Colorado, so I feel I have a vested interest in the outcome of the presidential election. And, since I live in Utah, this might be my only way to be heard!)

Calling all these folks on a Saturday resulted in some interesting observations:

1. Most people aren't home. I suppose people are working, or shopping, or whatever. But it still seems strange. I don't see anyone on my street at 10 am on a Saturday, so I figure they are in their houses. 90% of them aren't. Where is everyone?

2. I have a lot of preconceived notions of age and gender when it comes to politics. I knew Megan, 23, would be friendly (she hung up on me); if I was calling Frank, 66, I would be hoping for an answering machine, because middle aged men tend to be pretty rude to strangers calling on the phone (Frank turned out to be the nicest person I talked to); Delmar, 93, would be an ardent McCain supporter (100% artist for Obama).

3. I hate myself for ever being unfriendly to someone on the telephone. In this age of caller ID, everyone I talked to knew immediately that I wasn't a friend or family member. Everyone started out suspicious. In general, that feeling grew to impatience or anger. Moral of the story: There is no reason to be rude to people. Ever.

(I have a pet theory that everyone thinks they are living in their own private sitcom. When Jerry Seinfeld is rude to someone on the phone, it's funny, right?)

4. Our elderly need help. Of all the 80 and older crowd, only one had help with getting to the polls. One woman, 95 and blind, had already tried to vote by mail 5 times (!) but kept filling out the form incorrectly. She was about to give up. One woman told me "We're shut-ins, and we aren't interested in politics".

I hope all this calling helps, because I am starting to realize that the independent America we've built is a myth. In the end, we are all going to need some help.

Music Man

2008-10-28T19:01:00.000-07:00

I was trying to be logical and rational. Really, I was.

My horse, Kody, came up lame and found a new job as a trail horse. I decided this would be a good time to take a hiatus from owning a horse. I'd do some other things, maybe take lessons on SG's horse.

That was two days ago. Today I rode Music Man.

So much for reason. I've decided to lease him.

I've been depressed and cranky for the last several weeks while finding a new home for Kody, and today...well, today I'm happy. Happy knowing a good horse has a good home. Happy to look forward to learning a lot from a school master. In general, just happy to have a horse again.

Who knew it was that easy?

Could Utah go for Obama?

2008-10-25T15:56:00.001-07:00

I don't believe it. I spent three hours today calling people in Colorado, reminding them to send in their mail-in ballots and get the vote out for Obama. Today, I log into the web site and find I have 50 more voters to contact....IN UTAH!

Yes, the Obama campaign is actually asking me to call registered voters in Utah. I know (from data collected in a previous post) that McCain is polling in the low 60's, but could it be possible that Obama could take Utah? I am sure he will make the best showing for a democratic candidate this state has seen for a very long time.

But maybe the unthinkable could actually happen? I'm going to start calling!

Armstrong's law

2008-10-22T17:37:00.000-07:00

Last night I saw a news cast about McCain's "Robocalls" and the fact that Obama pals around with terrorists. Given the horror of 9/11, and what the word "terrorist" conjures up in the post 9/11 world, you think people would have a little more perspective.

Have you ever heard of Godwin's Law? You know, when you are arguing with someone, and they say something like "that's how it started with the Nazi's"...they instantly lose the argument. That's Godwin's law.

Armstrong's law is the same, but with terrorists. As soon as you say "Barack Obama pals around with terrorists" (he is a U.S. Senator for the love of Christ!) .... you lose. Let's hope Armstrong's law plays out during the presidential election.

To make sure, this year I am up off my ass, making personal calls to people in Colorado on Obama's behalf. I have never, ever considered doing this before. I really care this time, because it really matters this time. I may live in Utah where my vote doesn't matter, but this is still my country and my home!

SG reminded me what makes Obama so appealing, summed up by this quote from Taylor Mali:

"So don’t waste my time and your curses on verses
about what you are against, despise, and abhor.
Tell me what inspires you, what fulfills and fires you,
put your precious pen to paper and tell me what you’re for!"

Obama is telling me what we can do to make this my country again, the one I learned about in grade school. The one that has always made me proud to be an American. He can help us get there.

Harvest Time!

2008-10-11T16:20:00.000-07:00

I was about to post something about the severe weather in Utah, and then SG tells me she is hiding from tornados. So, nevermind.

What I will tell you about is....RADISHES!

Look at that photo. I planted those about 4-5 weeks ago, mostly in vermiculite. Suddenly, you know where food comes from...the air! Crazy, but true!

I've also been feeding the little pumpkins to the chickies. Their little minds are blown. In fact, I think I know what I'll do with all the squash.

SuperDell for Governer

2008-10-11T12:46:00.000-07:00

The Utah Voter Guide came out this week. I love looking through this, because it puts to rest the old lie that America is trapped in a two-party system. There are plenty of parties out there. Don't like McCain? Don't trust Obama? You've got choices. And, did you know the Green Party actually trumps republicans and Sarah Palin, with a woman running for president and vice president?

Of course, my favorite is Dell "SuperDell" Schanze, running for Governor of Utah. Why is he my choice for Governor? Just listen to his own words:

"There is no question that Dell Schanze is different. There are only three people on the ballot and SUPERDELL is the only one that is NOT a socialist. If you are unsure then fill your heart with love, completely open your mind and pray to God earnestly. You can't afford to get this wrong and will be held accountable for your choice."

What a campaign slogan: Vote for SuperDell or go to Hell! You can't go wrong with that.

All quiet on the home front

2008-10-11T12:27:00.000-07:00

A light frost killed off the squash and pumpkin plants last night. The peppers and tomatoes are brown and drooping. The cukes are starting to get a freeze-thaw line visible when you cut them open. The drizzle is broken only by a few bold but rare snow flakes. And I still don't have the coop insulated.

But the radishes! They seem to relish the cold air, their green stalks bright, upright, exclaiming "Winter? Bring it!"

Speaking of Bring It, I noticed at the IFA that Ariat (the dressage and show jumping boot maker) has diversified into cowboy boots. Their ads, showing a handsome, buff, nearly shirtless cowboy, says simply "Ariat. Bring It." Made me laugh so hard that one of the sales women asked me if I was ok. Those would be pretty effective ads for all the women buying dressage boots, too!

I tried to explain it to her, but I don't think she understood. Oh well, I am sure they get crazy "city slicker" types in there all the time. There is probably some store code for the customer who only buys 10 feet of chicken wire and one bale of straw hay. I can hear the boys in the back now: "Looks like city boy's got himself a couple a chickens". Sigh.

I usually don't mind sticking out in these situations. Still, I made sure no one was looking when I check my iPhone for text messages on the way out.

Winter is coming (redux)

2008-10-08T16:35:00.000-07:00

I can always tell when it's winter time. Our long-haired pup starts sneaking into the bed again after I get up in the morning. When I got up today, the house was at 60 degrees. This weekend, the high (the high) will be 45. Cassie is going to be in the bed this weekend I can tell you.

I'd better get the chicken coop insulated!

Ira Glass is amazing

2008-10-08T16:30:00.001-07:00

I don't know how he does it. It is pledge drive week on NPR, and I can generally resist their pleas for contributions. I always contribute, but I have to wait until Ira Glass (of This American Life) asks me. In just the right way.

This year, he calls up an NPR junky who has never contributed, and totally puts him on the spot. The NPR listener is saying "Oh my god, I am being called by Ira Glass!" and Ira says "Yeah, chump, put up the cash!".

So I do (even though Ira doesn't call me!). But, consider, $250/12 ~ $21 per month. And I give Comcast (the demon company) $60+. Score one for NPR.

Chicken Math

2008-10-08T16:13:00.000-07:00

I got two more eggs today, adding to the one yesterday. We have three chickens, so in principle we should get three eggs per day. But we don't. Sometimes we get one, sometimes two, sometimes three. I've been trying to figure out how many eggs each hen is laying, and I haven't come up with anything conclusive. But I have some ideas:

1. Each hens lays every other day. So that would mean:

Day 1 - one egg (say Larry)
Day 2 - one egg (say Daryl 1)
Day 3 - two eggs (Larry and Daryl 2)
Day 4 - one egg (Daryl 1)
Day 5 - two eggs (Larry and Daryl 2)
...etc...

2. Primes. I think each hen may be laying on days evenly divisible by a small prime number. For example, Larry lays every day, Daryl 1 every 2nd day, and Daryl 2 every 3rd day. That would give me 1 egg each day plus an extra egg on even days, plus an extra egg every third day. Our hens know prime numbers? Where is Carl Sagan?

3. Fibonacci Numbers. This is my new theory. I get one egg, one egg, two eggs, three eggs, then back to one egg. So I am getting a cycle of the first four numbers in the Fibonacci sequence. This rocks my world, because that means my chickens know the Fibonacci numbers. Weird!

4. Pi. I'm serious. Look at this: with three chickens, I get one egg (one plus three is 4) then I get one egg, and one plus four is five. Add up all the numbers greater than one not including three and you get nine: 3.14159. Weird!

Until I get three per day, I'll keep up on this. Stay tuned!

Conference Weekend

2008-10-05T17:05:00.001-07:00

It is conference weekend for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints here in Utah, and I found this flyer in the road. I thought this was pretty cool, and completely destroyed my stereotypes of what the LDS majority do on conference weekend. On the back it claimed "Over 5,000 singles!" which I assume are single people? So maybe this is a place where you can meet people? Anyway, there was a special floor for the 30-45 year olds, which I thought was good planning.

My favorite part is the translation of XXIX. Maybe they are getting ready for next year, Conference Dance XXX.

Yep, this is better

2008-10-05T14:21:00.001-07:00

I was getting tired of the rain. A little hail (and possibly some snow) is a nice change, especially when the chicken coop is flooding. Ah, October in the Mountain West.

It really is a glorious day today. I spent most of it outside clearing land for Larry and the Daryls. That and my cucumber sandwich made it feel very 1929. Oh, and the collapsing economy added some authenticity.

Now hail. I am waiting to see one of our neighbors drive by with their grandma strapped to the top of their SUV in a rocking chair. For 2008: Lattes of Wrath, or something like that.

Who needs salami?

2008-10-05T12:45:00.000-07:00

We've been working pretty hard to cut our meat consumption for a lot of good reasons. First, it is better for our health. Second, it is better for the environment. Third, most large scale meat companies are simply evil in their treatment of animals. And this is coming from a guy who has every intention of stewing up Larry and the Daryls if they stop making those delectable eggs. But I guarantee when their time comes, they'll go quick, with dignity and very little pain.

But I have this thing about salami. In fact, I love just about any salted, cured meat. I had gotten down to just eating a few slices on my sandwiches, and figured I had traveled about as far as I was willing to go on this meatless adventure.

And then I discovered the fresh cucumber sandwich. Oh my god, what a delicious creation. Even a simple one, of just cucumbers and cheese, on some good crusty bread. Mmmmmm. I went the store yesterday, and passed the salami right by. As long as I have fresh cucumbers from the garden, I may be done with the salted meats.

Of course, I should try one with just the cheese and mayo. Maybe that's the real secret.

Tent city springs up in Ogden chicken coop

2008-10-05T12:13:00.001-07:00

As perhaps more evidence of these trying economic times, Larry and the Daryls have erected a "tent city" to shelter them from the coming winter.

Atop dry straw and under blue tarps, the birds huddle close to stay warm during the worst weather Ogden has seen for several hours. When asked about her future plans, Daryl said "Ba-gock!"

Swamp 2

2008-10-05T09:18:00.001-07:00

Here is a photo of our Chicken Soup. Notice the ubiquitous "blue tarp" (for more applications, read The Blue Tarp Bible). I am not sure where I expected the water to go in the completely enclosed concrete foundation of the old shed, but it so seldom rains 'round these parts that I didn't give it much thought. I now have a little more sympathy for the ranchers and farm owners we have boarded horses with the in past. They had mucky messes, too. But when it costs $25,000 to re-grade your driveway, I guess you put up with it for two months out of the year.

As I recall, in Seattle, this never happened. I think it's because people would have to put up with it 11.5 months of the year.

I am now re-engineering the chicken situation (read: clearing some ground with good drainage and moving the whole shebang over about 20 feet. I may have to call on Zeroth Draft to help me move the coop, so I hope he has some muck boots. I'll bribe him with martinis.

Swamp!

2008-10-05T08:57:00.001-07:00

I'll get a photo up soon, but we neglected to account for drainage in the placement of the new chicken coop. After two days of rain, we have nice cold chicken soup. Luckily, the chickens have dry places and their interior coop is dry, for now.

I did find the all-in-one, delivered "ready to use" coop pictured here. The Hen Chalet. I'll let sabbatical grrrl decide if Larry and the Daryls are worth it. It is only $2000 (including shipping!). But there is no second floor ;)

What the heck was that!?!

2008-10-04T08:16:00.001-07:00

I am pretty sure there wasn't an Alien(TM) outside the bedroom window last night. Around 1 am, I heard this nasty snarling noise in the tree right outside the window. Cassie and I got up to check it out. Ok, I stood outside in my jammies with a big walking stick and went "what the heck was that" while cassie stared at me. Eventually, I did go back to a suspiciously dreamless sleep.

This morning, I went to check on the chickens (they're fine) and looked under the tree for any evidence of what I will refer to as "the creature". I saw nothing...no hair, no tracks, no acid burns on the ground.

Still, if I get a stomach ache in the next 24-48 hours, I'll let everyone know.

Winter is coming...

2008-10-04T07:12:00.000-07:00

...and may already be here in the "Top O' Utah".

This is another otherness of another Utah. Winter comes early in the top part of Utah. This area, north of Salt Lake, is neither long enough (e.g. Oklahoma) or grand enough (e.g. Texas) to be called a "Pan Handle". It's too blocky to be called a "mitten" or a "thumb" as one might do in Michigan. For a while I thought about calling it the "Top Hat" of Utah, but the locals have already settled on the "Top of Utah". Like "Top O' the Utah" to ya!

Today, I can watch winter roll out to meet us. Out the back bay window I don't see what I know to be Mt. Ogden. I do see the flaming tips of the box elders on Strong's Peak, as Fall sneaks down to the lower elevations. The chickens huddle in a heap in the corner of the coop. Cassie is the "winter pup", hair shaggy and long after her summer shave. The garden yellowing despite the water and the grass greening again because of it.

Today, if I can tear myself away from the approach of winter, I plan to mow the grass hay that grows behind the back fence.

Letters to the editor

2008-10-04T06:34:00.001-07:00

A snippet from today's Standard Examiner Letters to the Editor:

"Are we finally ready for a smart president?" - To summarize: are you going to pick two educated individuals, one of whom graduated at the top of his Harvard class, or two other "folks", one who graduated 894th out of 899 at the Naval Academy, and another who attended six colleges in five years before earning her degree? I have to agree with the author on this one. I am tired of a "C's get degrees" president.

And this is coming from a university professor who attended four colleges in 13 years before getting his terminal degree. But I don't want someone like me for president. My president should be *better* than me.

Out of four political letters in the Standard today, four are either for Obama/Democrats or against McCain/Republicans. Wow. In Utah. Another Utah.

I have the silly fantasy that Utah goes for Obama this year. It's crazy talk. But consider: in 2004, Bush took Utah with 71.5% of the popular vote. Considering Utah's nearly fanatical approval ratings for this president, that's a pretty poor showing. Given McCain's standing among conservatives (as well as the fact that he is not Mitt Romney) I wouldn't be surprised if McCain squeaked out a win in Utah with only 65% of the popular vote.

That's a close call here in the flyover.