Pod Meadow Walk

A friend came to visit us and after eating homemade Belgian waffles I suggested I take her and my family to Pod Meadow, which I had discovered on a walk with Transition earlier in the week. The weather was a balmy 55F and only partially overcast.

Pod Meadow is an amazing conservation area in my town that is a hidden gem, “a sleeper,” the town naturalist calls it. It is 25 acres. You park the car on a busy road – no less than the old Native American Great Trail, which became a major highway in the colonial era and is now Old Connecticut Path, or Route 126. You walk through someone’s yard, and then, suddenly, this:

Amazing, the sudden dip toward the Pond and the lack of tangled shrubs under the stately trees – mostly beeches, oaks and some pines and spruce – which allows you to see right through. It gives the open and clear feel of a maintained forest, much like, I presume, the forests in the time of the Native Americans, who used to set fire to the underbrush to make hunting and travel easier.

In this forest the maintenance is done by the beavers. I don’t have the skinny on the beavers yet, but there seem to be many of them and, some worry, too many. They have dammed the Pond so that now the water reaches higher, inundating old trails and making what used to be a vernal pool (first water body in the picture above) into a part of the “full-time” pond.

The beavers clear the forest by doing this:

Amie couldn’t believe it. Imagine chewing through a whole tree with your teeth! There is more beaver handy toothsome work behind her: the beavers apparently like beeches the most and in this spot most of them were stripped of their bark at beaver height. It is amazing to run your finger over the scrapings. To me it is like touching the wild. Here’s an even bigger tree (an oak) being worked on:

And some more beeches:

We speculated that there must be some system or plan in their activities. Perhaps they are working up to a moment when they will tip one tree and it will take down all the others, like dominoes, in one great bang! Then they’ll have a party, say “our work is done here,” and move on.

For the moment they’re at home. This is their lodge. No sign of the inhabitants.

Seeing all this is so awesome to me, and I am eager to learn more about these animals. I’m also fascinated by the geology of the place, which is, like so much of New England, dominated by the 50,000-year-old glacier that started to retreat 15,000 to 16,000 years ago. I sometimes dream about that glacier.

Today was about Amie. At first she didn’t want to come but the moment we arrived she started running and jumping, suddenly free and wild herself. She had climbed onto this great downed oak before we knew it and DH had to scramble after her.

She also really wanted to walk on water:

She was upset at the end and I didn’t know why. She said she had “wanted to have more adventures and all we did was walk around and chat!” I will take her back after school some day and she can show me what it is that she wants to do. We can also take our journals and draw or write.

We are reading the Finn Family Moomintroll which another friend gave her and perhaps she has that landscape in mind and the adventures of Moomin and his curious friends. I can certainly understand her. When I was a kid I was always pottering around in the overgrown area (now a nature reservation) across from my parents’ house, pretending to be the last kid left on Earth, losing my boots in the bog, coming home with leaves and mud in my hair.

I would have gone on that tree too! I may still.

Latest Pots

Yesterday I went to my teacher, Lisa Dolliver’s annual show. After wowing all the pottery on display and making a small purchase I picked up the small, heavy box with my name on it. It contained the pots I made during the last session. The session before that had been cancelled so these pots were made after a long hiatus, but that didn’t slow me down.

I made an astonishing fourteen pieces (incl the two lids). I remember bringing home the pots from my first session, all seven of them. Two are missing – didn’t make it into the kiln on time.

Here they are, group picture:

These three and their lids were thrown off the hump, wherein you stick a large amount of clay to the wheel and only center, then throw the upper part into a pot. Then you cut it off and work at the next layer. It’s a large and fast production technique of throwing.

I don’t much like this “vase”. The foot came out too clunky, but it was interesting to carve out.

Mixed Up Library

Yesterday I finally straightened out my library. I found it to be a strange mixture of Gardening, Herbalism, Ecology, Botany, Beekeeping, Environmentalism, Ethics, Drawing, Interior Design, Transition, Native American history, Latin (!), etc. Also poetry and some novels (Harrison, Bass, Oliver).

At the moment I’m reading Ceremonial Time, Fifteen Thousand Years on One Square Mile by John Hanson Mitchell (my neighbor), several books on my town, Wayland and I’m rereading The Mind on Fire (brilliant biography of Emerson by Richardson) and Harrison’s The Road Home.

More is coming. I splurged a little on myself while shopping for family and ordered American Transcendenalism: A History (Philip Gura), The Shamanic Way of the Bee: Ancient Wisdom and Healing Practices of the Bee Masters by Simon Buxton, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee: An Indian History of the American West by Dee Brown, Life in the Soil: A Guide for Naturalists and Gardeners by James Nardi and finally, for my Kindle, I’m with the Bears, Short Stories from a Damaged Planet, ed. by Mark Martin. Mix it up, I say!

Across from the bookshelves – barely across – and bathing in the red glow of the morning sun shining through the red silk curtains, sits my massive desk, also freshly reorganized.

I’m going to add a row of pictures above the three drawings, but they need framing first. (Yes, that is still the Maisy sticker that Amie put there years ago.)

Riot for Austerity – Month 37

This is the Riot for the month of November 2011 for the three of us. Our first year’s averages were calculated here, our second year’s averages can be found here. Edson fixed the calculator: all go tither to crunch those numbers!

Gasoline.  Calculated per person. We drove to NYC and back for Thanksgiving. I walk Amie to school and back again every day, but activism necessitates more (local) drives than usual.

13 gallons per person

31.6% of the US National Average

Electricity. This is reckoned per household, not per person. After two months of not having to pay NSTAR (them paying us, instead) we got a bill again for  69 kWh (all wind). According to our solar meter, we produced 1403 kWh since the system was turned on, 274 kWh in November.  (You can follow our solar harvest live, here).

So in November we consumed:

274 (solar) + 69 (wind) =  343 kWh

17.1% of the US National Average

That’s quite amazing, one of our lowest numbers yet! And as you can see, we also made our first megaWatt last month and are well on our way to the next one! Those megaWatts are important because here in Mass. we can sell them as SRECS, which are the main component of the system payback.

Heating Oil and Warm Water. This too is calculated for the entire household, not per person. November has been crazy warm too, just like October. We had a few evenings of wood stove heat, but never needed the oil furnace backup for our “Annex” or for at night. All the oil consumption was for warm water (shower, dishes, laundry).

11.05 8.45 gallons of oil

17.9% 13.7% of the US National Average

{UPDATE} 3 Jan 2012: The way I have been calculating our heating oil consumption is by reading off the furnace how many hours it ran, then multiplying it by .85 because that’s the amount of gallons of oil I *thought* it used. Now DH just told me that our furnace is more efficient than that and the correct number is .65. Hence the correction.

Trash. After recycling and composting this usually comes down to mainly food wrappers.

10 lbs. pp per month

7% of the US National Average

Water. This is calculated per person.

376 gallons pp.

12.5% of the US National Average

The Dreadful Public Speaking

I was never a confident public speaker. I used to be a TA at the university where I did a lot of teaching, mostly to groups of 20 student, occasionally to an auditorium of 250. I would rehearse those hours meticulously, often to the point of learning the whole thing by heart. It was exhausting, but I did get better at it, more natural, and my students never complained. That was seven years ago.

Now here I am, an activist who needs to speak out publicly. And it turns out that public speaking is not like riding a bicycle. You don’t do it for seven years, you lose the knack.

For the first couple of Transition events I made sure I had strong invited speakers. All I had to do was the introductions. Even though I gladly followed the good advice to keep those short, I was still very nervous. I arrived at the events half an hour early, if not earlier, and over-rehearsed my three lines.

Soon the introductions became more elaborate, then  people started to notice me and wanted to hear from me – a Waylander – and not from an invited speaker who doesn’t live here. After all, that’s what Transition is about.

My speeches became longer. I love writing them, hunting for the words that perfectly describe the ever morphing idea of what Transition is. One day I hope I can distill it all into three sentences again. But for now, they’re half a page, 1 page, 2 pages…

My audience went from 2 (seriously) to 25 to 100. They are great audiences, they listen so intently. And they seem to like my accent and my voice.

But when I’m “up there,” I’m still fighting the flight-or-fight reflex, telling myself:

It’s the words that count, not the one speaking , and all she has to do is speak clearly so she can at least be understood. I am a channel.  I am merely a channel. These words speak for themselves. You’re doing the Work. It needs to be done. You’ll get better at it. People understand.

Public speaking, it turns out, is like flying. The more I do it, the more I fear it.

Why is that?

Yesterday my Transition colleague Wen (a fabulous public speaker) and I did our “Transition Talk” at the big Interfaith Thanksgiving celebration. You can hear an earlier version of that here, when we did it for the Episcopal Church on Saint Francis day.

Harvested Ginger

I harvested the ginger that I put in in June. I put in 12 ounces and out came exactly 16 ounces! I had to throw out part of the old root (darker brown) because it had gone mushy. The rest of the old root is still firm and spicy. I should have harvested before the frost came, or, better yet, done what I had planned: brought the box inside before the frost, but it slipped my mind. Who knows it would have kept on growing. I must say, though, that harvesting ginger root is as pleasant as harvesting garlic. The smell is divine. This is definitely worth a repeat.

Freaking out: IEA: 5 years or that’s it!

Okay, so now I am freaking out. The IEA  now says that we have five years to change our fossil fuel infrastructure or we’re headed for irreversible climate change, or  the world will “lose for ever” the chance to avoid dangerous climate change.

“The door is closing,” Fatih Birol, chief economist at the International Energy Agency (IEA), told the Guardian. “I am very worried – if we don’t change direction now on how we use energy, we will end up beyond what scientists tell us is the minimum [for safety]. The door will be closed forever.”

There you have it from a usually very conservative source.

Note also that they want levels to “be held to no more than 450 parts per million (ppm) of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere).” That’s still 100 ppm MORE than what many other scientists and activists (including Bill McKibben) say is safe.

Today is just one of those days…

Salvage

Another “hot” day, in the high 60s. Yesterday we reached 70.  Talking with people as I go about town it occurs to me that we love it. Of course, who wouldn’t, right? Well… A couple of warm days in November and we’re happy because we can open the windows and leave our jackets at home. We’re so happy only few of us want to consider the cause and the effects of this down the road. Then, when it gets cold again – and probably very cold, in this seesaw climate – we can also be happy because we can finally grab that nagging suspicion by the horns, shake it and say, “global warming, huh!”

Today I wanted to write about salvaging. Yesterday I had to go into an Office Depot to have two big posters printed – we started “deep recycling” at the school I represent for the Green Team. I never go into those places. I can’t bear to look at the $1 packets of 100 pencils or ball points, the $2 t-shirts, the Save On This and That. The disparity between the advertised cost and the real cost of all this junk is too jarring for me.

But anyway, there I was, looking at all this stuff. And I realized why I never go to these places, or rather, why I never have to go. I salvage.

I get all my paper in the mail and through Amie’s school projects. I only write on scrap paper anymore.  Companies and my town send me envelopes with perfectly good envelopes in them. When we get take-out and the pita bread comes in tin foil, I wipe it and keep it. Same with plastic baggies. I even save the elastic bands that my grocery store puts around egg cartons and bunches of veggies for me. Haven’t had to buy a single elastic band in years now.

There must be many more examples that I can’t think of at the moment. I just do it subconsciously: I see something that is not “used up” and to me it says “reuse!”

I love to read apocalyptic novels and very recently tore through  The Old Man and the Wasteland by Nick Cole (kindle version, 99 cents). Like in The Old Man and the Sea, the old man  leaves his community to find something. Not a big fish, but salvage. They are a community living a hard life in the dessert, decades after the bombs, on salvaged stuff. I loved the insights into the salvaging mind – it’s all about following the story. It’s a great adventure and I was sad to get to the end, not just because it was the end, but because the man finds a whole city (Tuscon), intact, preserved and defended against The Horde.

He calls it salvage, but to me it was the end of salvage. And - tadaa – the epilogue indicates it was the beginning of the new “civilization”. Earlier in the book, the Old Man thought about how depressed everyone was right after the bombs, having lost everything. To survive that you had to accept that you lost everything (and many couldn’t). But now here it is: everything he thought was lost, for him and his community, given back again. What a shock that must be, but there isn’t much about his feelings – it’s too short and racy a novel for that.

Strange, my conflicted feelings about this ending. The curve of humanity swings upward and the Old Man, the author and the readers sing in praise. But this reader closed the book and stepped out into a warm day in November that was supposed to be cold.

The Real Work
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
… we have come to our real work,
And that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.
— Wendell Berry

Riot of Austerity – Month 36

This is the Riot for the (crazy) month of October 2011 for the 3 of us. Our first year’s averages were calculated here, our second year’s averages can be found here. Edson fixed the calculator!

Gasoline.  Calculated per person.

17.16 gallons per person

41.8% of the US National Average

Electricity. This is reckoned per household, not per person. Strangely enough, we’ve not received our NSTAR electricity bill! We usually get it on the 26th and that’s how I monitor our usage. Weird development and no one’s answering the phones over there. One thing we know, because we are grid-tied, our solar production for the one and a half (bright and sunny) days that we were without power, was wasted (got diverted into the ground).

We produced 359 kWh with our solar array, but I’ll have to fill in later what we actually consumed.

{Update} Our bill arrived – it was the storm cleanup that had held it up. Like last month’s, it was  again just for “distribution charges”, meaning we produced more electricity than we consumed and so didn’t have to rely on electricity generated by NSTAR (coal or wind). In fact, some of what we produced we did not consume as NSTAR paid for it. Unfortunately, they do not state how many kWh that is – just the credit in dollar amounts. I should deduct that from what we produced. Will investigate.

Heating Oil and Warm Water. This too is calculated for the entire household, not per person. October was warm enough not to have the heat on, and when we did  have it, it was from wood. We’re now simply turning off the furnace and water tank until an hour before we need hot water for a shower. It’s not cold enough yet for us to need the furnace as backup for night time heat.

7.65 5.85 gallons of oil

12.4% 9.5% of the US National Average

{UPDATE} 3 Jan 2012: The way I have been calculating our heating oil consumption is by reading off the furnace how many hours it ran, then multiplying it by .85 because that’s the amount of gallons of oil I *thought* it used. Now DH just told me that our furnace is more efficient than that and the correct number is .65. Hence the correction.

Trash. After recycling and composting this usually comes down to mainly food wrappers.

10 lbs. pp per month

7% of the US National Average

Water. This is calculated per person.

431 gallons pp.

14.4% of the US National Average