Carrots---Not as Easy to Grow as the PAst---Or What?

It used to be it was impossible to screw up a carrot. I don't care where we have grown these things, be it in Colorado or Wisconsin, you plant the seeds and out come carrots all long, fat, usually sweet and fit for just a plane old afternoon treat. In fact, one family members calls them carrotyphones and just gnaws on them like a rabbit--he looks like one as all  of our clan has big teeth of a carnivore type.

I mean, they are a good treat, full of natural sugars, and not the high fructose type of corn derivation, have other comfortable nutrients and will turn your skin orange if you eat too many---just like John Boehner in our congress. He eats to may carrots, that is it.

This year I planted a nice batch in the west garden and they took off. In fact, had a great germination. I was impressed and made sure they had appropriate water. About mid summer I pulled one of the little suckers, only to find out it was a stubby, a one inch long nub of nothing. It was as if going deep was wrong, like the soil sucked and they wanted no part of it.

A bit later, I tried another and found not only stubbies but misshapened longer roots that had been the victim of some rampaging insect. I finally found one of the scoundrels and fed it to the Blue Gills in the rain barrel. Here and there was a good one but while the greens were better than normal the roots, were doing the dirt nap.

So, harvest time roles around and the pulling started. There in the pile is nothing but stubbies and worm-savaged, deformed, woody carrotyphones barely worth the time of day. In the end, we butchered them up and canned maybe 6 quarts but our hearts were saddened by the failure. Normally, this would be a great famine food, one to hold off the wolves of spring. This year it will be dandelions and burdock.

Cabbage Chuck----Only In America

There are events, and I mean events, that have to be seen at least once in a person's life. Now, I say this not because it is like it is going to the Louvre, or the Chicago Museum of Natural History, or even a concert by Neil Young but because it is out there. It is an event that is so ridiculous that it must been see to really get a feel for what life is like in rural America. Baby, this is Amurika and if can't get into this you are a commie.

This is not small potatoes, no, not small cabbage (there was 42 pounder there) nor small pumpkins, this is in innovation and folly all in one. This involves beer (possibly copious amounts), maybe an incredible presentation of super nachos and an opportunity to see the people that are America, people that are the salt of the earth having a good time doing something that on the surface appears to be really stupid---and even on a metaphorical level it seems stupid to the core. It IS really genuinely stupid, but it is for the good of all---I guess. Not nearly as stupid as our congress, I might add, and more entertaining.


So here is the deal. A group of dudes get together in teams and figure out ways to toss a cabbage as far and as accurately as possible. To me the most interesting are the trebuchets, which of course, is a 13th century device of French derivation, used to lob big stones and disgusting things (I'm sure Monty Python has a film on it) at a castle in an attempt to breach it for plundering prepossess. As can be seen in the photos some folks use primitive construction consisting of logs ropes and stones, others use steel and wheels. They really are advanced catapults with a rope sling attached.

They can chuck a cabbage about 300 yards and it then crashes with a delightful thud and flies into slaw, all to the thunderous applause of the audience. Beer is involved but it is low quality brew of the Milwaukee variety. Chairs of all configuration (except Hepplewhite) are lined up along the shooting line while various individuals watch the action and cheer the casting of vegetables.

Then there is another set of dudes who used compressed air to shoot every thing from pumpkins and logs to cabbage. These are guns that would have brought tears to the Nazis---I mean, can you imagined being killed by a 400 mph pumpkin. There comrades would have laughed at his miserable death. Fill a pumpkin with chemicals and it might have been a bit of a Trojan Horse---oh well!

The big gun, the really big gun could shoot a pumpkin close to a mile and it was almost impossible to see it fly. The best part, the most exciting, was the shooting of the old school bus, the one labeled with Bengals (Green Bay's opponent that weekend), with pumpkins and a rather large logs. This went on for hours with all members of the audience cheering with each blast that nearly tore the antiquated machine in half.

We bought, cabbages, cauliflower and numerous raffle tickets--which appeared to really be the purpose of the event.---generated funds for local community organizations by doing something very absurd. Once in a life time, man.

Missionary's Position----Over-Population

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/14/opinion/overpopulation-is-not-the-problem.html?emc=eta1&_r=0

Op-Ed Contributor

Overpopulation Is Not the Problem

By ERLE C. ELLIS
Published: September 13, 2013 New Your Times

The op-ed above just was presented to me to demonstrate there are individuals out there that don't believe over-population is an issue in today's world.  I am always interested in this topic and every once in awhile someone will kick this round. Admittedly, I am always alarmed by this thinking even though I have come to realize the topic is rather moot in that no one is really even talking about it because there seems to be no solution for it. The population just keeps going up by some 75-80 million a year. That would be equal to the US population every 4 years!

While 90% or so of futurist, most noticeably Albert Bartlett physicist from Colorado University, feel that every single major issue we have is directly related to too many people, there are still a few spouting the Julian Simon diatribe that man can solve everything because we are so smart. Bartlett's most famous statement is, “The greatest shortcoming of the human race is our inability to understand the exponential function.”

The new York times piece by Ellis is largely a faith based statement where he pontificates that our great social systems and always-advancing-technology allows us to live outside the confines of other creatures behavior. In other words, we are superior to all other animals and therefor we will prevail. It seems to have absolutely no concern for other living things and appears to believe that the entire earth can be occupied by humans.

Ellis says, "We transform ecosystems to sustain ourselves. This is what we do and have always done. Our planet’s human-carrying capacity emerges from the capabilities of our social systems and our technologies more than from any environmental limits." That is his BIG statement. Yes, we do transform our ecosystem! Jesus Christ man we do transform the ecosystem and that doesn't bother you? It is called destroying it.  Basically, he is saying because we do it it is right. We are God, screw the rest of the planet.

If I didn't know better, I say this guy works for the Koch brothers. He sure is hell is a shill for the corporate state. Grow, grow, grow, develop, develop develop.

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Sweet Jesus give me a break. The really sad part of the article is that it appears to be going uncontested. These jack-asses have taken over the narrative, a narrative that should not even be spoken--fortunately in most of Europe it is not, nor is it in the intellectual class but it runs wild in the political class, and in the world of economics. 

"The only people who believe we can have never-ending exponential growth in a finite world is the complete mad man and an economist."

 

Beer from Scratch--On Going Saga

Last week I did a little presentation on this site about the preparation of barley in anticipation of making the notorious elixir, beer. I made mention that farmer Bud provided the barley of an unknown variety (yes, brewing affectionatoes want "special" barley) and I then cleaned it using my handy-dandy, antiquated fanning mill. I have to admit, this seemed really cool as the 120 year old hand-cranked machine worked like it was new. Plus it was aesthetic, I mean, like it was a piece of art work. I noticed the YouTube video had 17 views---right up there with Brittany.

From there, the next, and logical, step is to malt the barley, all of which can be done in the kitchen, maybe with a small mess but still done. The first step was to soak 10 pounds of the grain in water for a couple of hours thus setting it up to start sprouting. Actually the idea is to soak it in water then remove it and allow it to sit in the open air, still damp but able to breath. This was done a couple of times. This also removes more undesirable stuff like goat urine and malathion. (Notice color)

After the grain has started to sprout, it is placed in pans and allowed to develop to a point where the little roots are half inch long and the new stem is about 1/4 of an inch. Takes about 2-3 days. All of this went well and the little suckers seemed to be content and making sugar out of the starch. That sugar is what will be turned to alcohol (ethanol). I held the temperature at 64 and did give them an occasional spray job.

Once the sprouting was done, the entire batch was heated, dried and basically killed, all for the purpose of capturing the sugar. I could hear the little jaspers screaming but death for humans gain is God's way. If a darker beer is wanted, the grain is roasted in the oven at say 250 degrees. ( I just remember the oven was on at 275 degrees!) All of this has gone well and with a minimal mess, but I do see random grains sorta floating about due to some clumsiness and inadequate facilities. This ain't exactly no stinking brewery but come the revolution this is the way it will have to be made---and I ain't going without beer. If there is no revolution, then I am still having fun and the beer can be used to celebrate. Most likely outcome as I am getting old.

Today I picked the hops a Tony's place to the tune of about 2 pounds. These were processed in two ways. One was to freeze the little suckers in a vacuum bag and the other is to dry them in the food dryer and then they can be stored in baggies. The hops are an interesting plant and the flowers, as pictured, are green. They are filled with resin that has some preservative qualities but most noticeably, have that great smell of beer and brewing. They are unique, sticky, and not real easy to pick---involves a ladder and the chance to fall on ones ass.

The point of all this is to demonstrate that beer can be made right here in my kitchen with stuff I gather within 5 miles. To top it off, I am predicting it will be a deluxe beer with more than pleasant demeanor. So there.

The Shore Line of the big Lake Superior

It seems, at times, like it is not possible to spend too much time on or near water. Maybe the affinity has to do with chemistry, with our silent knowledge that we are mostly made of water. In fact, I suspect all living things are made with water. For a brief colorful moment, I was thinking that it might be possible to substitute water with wine--Jesus deliberately changed water to wine, so he must have considered the fruit of the vine superior for some reason. No, wine is made of water, but then alcohol might make bad water drinkable. He might have had a mission in his efforts that precludes an actual substitute.

Water is soothing, as are the waves that lap on the beaches and waves that crash against the rocks and out-croppings and against legs . We walked along the shore on Madeline Island, on a boardwalk viewing the many delights and taking note of strange sightings. In one area, we paused because of the number of miss-shappend red pines there on the sandy shore line. There among the straight trees, many in the 30 year age group, was maybe ten trees that had noticeable doglegs in them. The trunks went up two feet and then went out horizontally and after 2 feet, again, turned up to continue their journey toward the sun.

Some even went downward for a few inches before they returned to the vertical. I had heard years ago the native peoples bent trees over to mark a forest trail, but trees only 30 years of age hardly would qualify for historical trail markers. In thinking about it, what must have happened is a storm blew down a larger tree that partially broke or maimed the main branches of these trees. While they were not killed out right, they were deformed from the impact, but once they found themselves alive, continued in a crooked way. They simply marked a storm that passed some years ago. Maybe it was the same storm that got the Edmond Fitz.

On the treeless stretches, the grasses, shrubs and lichens held sway. The later, the Reindeer moss and British Soldiers were most prevalent occupying a nitch were other plants could not take hold. Their combination of algae and fungus allowed them to make a day of it in a very harsh and infertile location. There was great effort to keep the trampling of human feet off the delicate plants because during the dry time they become brittle and comatose, simply waiting for moisture to bring them back to life. Any step of man was disruptive. The hikers of the beach were mostly respectful and they thrived.

The water and the beach environment is a restful place, a place to just sit and marvel at what was largely untouched. It is good to get away from the world of mad men and their toys. We shall return.

Revolution Watch----How is it Going?

Every now and then it is time to take stock on how the sustainable revolution is going. It is a chance to see how various tree huggers, eco-terrorists, bed-wetting liberals  and efficiency gurus are doing. While there are many folks interested in getting "real" with the way we live our lives, knowing we have to down-size, scale back and live within our environmental means, I'm not sure how it is going. Really, the "The Concerned" are all very well meaning and they are, of course, entirely correct in their position---in truth many of them are too soft, to interested in maintaining business as usual just in an falsely imagined sustainable way.

It is now obvious  the world is indeed warming. By all accounts this is not good. Yes, some 95% of all competent scientist have confirmed that---as well as the fact that it is anthropogenic. Yup, we are the ones doing it. This information has been known for many years really and even G.W. Bushster said it was getting warmer and he didn't "do" science.

So with all the talk of the enviros like McKibben, just how is it going-----this high priority? Here are a few graphs from competent sources and they point to a rather dismal success rate---Oh, ya, there is no success. If it was a football game the score would be 200 to nothing with the concerned citizens slapped about and the corporate/government team happy as vultures on a fresh gut pile. Looks like we need to pay for some better players, some really big mean mothers. Is there a salary cap on the enviro team?Oh shit, they don't have any money. Maybe helicopter Ben could send them some fresh notes, maybe part of the 85 billion he is printing every month.

The above graph shows that the USA is reducing coal consumption. Looks real nice and we are definitely all puffed up like a toad under a street light thinking we are making a difference. Unfortunately, it is seldom mentioned that all of the industry that produces "stuff" for us is now being done in China. So we have simply moved our coal burning off to the west---probably forgetting all that CO2 from them will affect our lives. We just farmed out the pollution. Truth is, many other developing countries are also burning more coal as well. Damn, just can't seem to gain on that one. Has something to do with globalization, me thinks.

Well, maybe we are using less oil. Same picture. That graph is going up. The only good possibility here is that geologically, or maybe financially, this line will flatten soon and have to go down because of depletion. But then, that will give us more opportunity to burn coal---and natural gas. The alternative sources hardly make a mark on the graph for some reason.

So how is the CO2 emissions going. Jesus, look at the upward slope. This revolution is not doing real well. Must be that the folks with the vision are not in power, or there are too few of them, or both, or nobody really gives a damn, or there are really a lot of stupid people---there are really a lot of people, like 80 million more every year.

It is really tough to have a revolution now days. Are we spending too much time looking at screens? Are those things opiates? I was looking for more progress in this quarter. I guess it is time to buy some more natural gas stocks and settle for money because a quality sustainable life seems of no value.

Words of Wisdom ---and Drugs

I have collect quotes all of my adult life and can't help but run into great comments on the internet. I save 'em and now and then offer them up to my readers. Here is a spattering.

Here is the drug one can take to get through the day.

Magic in the Yard---Wild Things

So many times one thinks it is necessary to travel far and wide to see exciting wildlife. Now, I am not talking about seeing lions and tigers, that is true, but on a smaller scale it can be pretty exciting right here among the blades of grass and towering Maples of the backyard. In a matter of a couple of evenings of casual sitting in the backyard, usually with a gin and tonic well situated in my hand, we saw the following commotions, or not so much commotions but events, well, maybe not events but situations.

 This warm evening, as I sprawled out in my anti-gravity lounge chair, we noticed one off our resident squirrels on top of the local pole, the one used to hold the obnoxious street light, going into a alarmed froth over something. He was doing this chop, chop, chop, growl thing and looking off to the east as if directing some choir (there was a funeral today). His tail was shivering and he was sounding some alarm as if it was a tornado warning, or the British were coming. He obviously thought his ass was on the line.

In doing a little snooping, we noticed the good reverend's gray cat strolling the dark park under our spruce tree. The aspect of the chatter that got our attention was the out-and-out alarm. I mean, he was even telling US something was up. "Like dude, there is a religious cat coming your way." It was damned obvious he was also telling every living thing trouble was in the offing. The birds had totally vacated the feeder. Not a bad system."Alarm, Alarm, the Nazis are coming. Hide. "  I hate cats so I felt a certain comradery with the squirrel. Unfortunately, this is a decent cat, maybe a bit religious, but still better than the overly fertile feral feline that has been about--the one that needs to be "fixed" in more ways than one. I was not alarmed, but not pleased as cats kill my song birds. They are like humans, there are too many of them.

Well, a bit earlier we noticed this Wooly Bugger, Wooly Bear, or whatever,  heading for the Lemon Grass. Really a strange one with these yellow hairs punctuated with black spikes. He appeared to have no motive and for all I could tell was totally blind. Just went hither and yon, apparently looking for a nice place to pupate. I thought of feeding him to the bluegills in the rain barrel but due to his coolness let him live and go about his way.

The Tiger Lily hung so wonderfully in the side garden and in it sat this green cricket just wanting to do some flower time. I have no idea his ambition nor objective other than to be aesthetic. He was a delicate things all poised to do something, maybe just sleep. I heard no call from him, so while he was well positioned to find a mate, he seemed not to be working at it. However, at night the calls are going out and the crickets of late summer are calling in great numbers. He is well situated for sure. If I was a potential mate, I would consider him nicely appointed and certainly consider a roll in the flower with him. 

Late summer and the wildlife here is rumbling with activity. Oh ya, I am easily entertained but being right here is very sustainable, no consumption at all just a small serving of energy from the garden, and the gin. In truth, I can and have produced my own gin. I have the juniper berries and the grain alcohol of my own manufacture. My God, I am really sustainable.   Maybe a bit full of myself, but sustainable.

Wheat---From Scratch---to Brewing and to Bread

I have always been curious about the difficulties of growing my carbohydrates ( in the form of grain) because the thought of going all the way from planting, harvesting, cleaning, grinding and consuming seems a major event, to say the least. I, just for the hell of it, thought I would do this. I would harvest the wheat by hand---I didn't plant it but found it growing along the road where it had been planted by the road crew to stabilize the soil. I don't have enough room here in town---a good excuse.

There it was all looking like a wheat field but on public property. About the time the locals started harvesting their wheat, I went out and harvested, by hand, about 250 square feet of wheat by using a hand-held grass trimmer. I wanted to use a scythe but the one I have seems to have been designed for a midget of yesteryear and had a funny angle to the blade. So I had to give up that experience rather reluctantly because I really wanted to cut down much more, maybe a couple of thousand square feet. I also really wanted to experience using the scythe Kingsnorth (Orion article) style.

Content with my takings, a couple of shocks, I took the aesthetic bundle home for hand thrashing. I chose to use a method common through out the world up until the industrial revolution. That was to beat in on the ground, stomp on it generally beat the piss out of the heads. It turned out the grain was easily separated and I suspect that is why wheat has the exulted position it has, plus no attached hulls like oats and barley.

 Once the beating has been completed, there on the ground was a pile of grain and a good collection of chaff, about a half dozen earwigs and some small despondent spiders. Fortunately, the insects split not wanted to be turned into bread. In the end, I had less that 2 pounds of grain that needed to be cleaned in the fan mill--rather than trowing it up in the breeze like the really primitive types. I suspect that is woman's work anyway.

The whole idea here was to get a feel what it would be like to live without the wheels of industry. In other words, before the industrial revolution.  How much work would it be to grow one's own food. Now I admit, no one would drive 2 miles to cut their wheat, and they would not just do 250 ft sq. There would be more scale to it. Still, the idea of providing enough of the stuff to feed yourself  and say, six babbling kids is daunting. In fact, it is no wounder if a person had 8 kids six would die.

Insects, rodents, fire, drought all could affect the harvest. I'm feeling they were not good old days. To top it off the grain has spiny parts that penetrates clothing and itches like hell. . Mind you, I have not tried planting wheat and I have yet to grind the grain and make bread from it. That will be another day but I will be doing it, so stay tuned.

When I hear folks talk about growing their own food, I doubt seriously they have a clue about what it really takes because they never talk about their source calories. Where to they come from. How about all the diary products? There always seems to be more to the story---more work, more time. Just  a thought.