Burning my old friend's bones.

A year ago, at the end of that exceptionally hot, dry, summer, I lost a very old friend.

This friend was someone I'd watched, walked beside, touched, admired, and cheered for, for decades.

She was a very large, strong, and beautiful red elm.  I say "she", which is not biologically accurate, because she often shed large amounts of seed.  At least twice, I put down tarps beneath her, collected her seed, and planted it.

I'd watched her nearly die, and then fully recover, 20 years ago; so I'd been hoping she'd make it this time.  That year had been hot and dry, too.  This one was apparently too much.

Red elm is one of my favorite trees; I like their attitude and behavior.  They can grow very fast when they're where they belong, tend to make big strong logs that can be used in more ways than oak.  The wood is beautiful; almost as dark as freshly cut black walnut, with lovely grain; the wood is as strong as oak, tougher than oak, very rot resistant, often splits as easily as any wood can; burns hot, makes the best long lasting coals for holding fire overnight - and - it will dry out completely just standing in the woods for a year.  Oak will never- ever- dry out on the stump; not if dead for 2 decades.  Oak requires great foresight, and careful storing to dry for use as fuel.  And a lot of sweat, wrassling all that soaking wet, heavy as pig iron, oak biomass- at least twice.

Elms are more forgiving (our elms, anyway) - if you weren't able to get this winter's wood cut and stacked under a roof two years ago- you can just cut an elm that's been dead for a year- and burn it efficiently today.  (Well, the top.  The butt log will be wet enough it will need drying.)  Red elm is the same as "slippery" elm; humans have used the inner bark for food and medicine for millennia (which is one reason the tree is less common these days), but in addition to food from bark, the red elms in Canada produced such heavy seed crops that Ernest Seton reported the passenger pigeon flocks migrated specifically to gorge on slippery elm seed.

Probably part of why I like red elms is they are ignored, misunderstood, and undervalued.  Underdogs in the canopy.  If you look them up on the internet, you'll find the pharm pages usually calling them by a Latin name the botanists declare obsolete; and both sources say "the wood is of no commercial value" - therefore, it's fine when they die after all their bark is stripped.  No value?  The mind boggles.  Never mind all the creatures dependent on them in the ecosystem, in the early 1980's, many of my neighbors made a lot of money- selling their big red elms- to Italian wood buyers.  True, local loggers didn't want them.  But the Italians paid the same money as for black walnut.  They shipped the logs to Italy.  Where they were veneered, and the veneer used to make very expensive furniture.

And the freshly cut wood is fragrant.  For me, it's a scent associated with childhood- in an unusual way.  When I was 8 years old, or so, my family spent 3 weeks in Japan.  The shops that specialized in wood carvings all had the same strong, pleasing, fragrance as you walked in the door.  I was too young to ask which wood it was, but many of the boxes and figures of dark wood carried it.  I'm pretty sure, now, it was Cryptomeria wood, Japanese cedar.  The smell of red elm is identical, as far as I can tell, and when I split it, or handle it, it brings many bits of those years and that trip back.

When I first got here, in SE Minnesota, our farm woods had 3 (at least) species of elm; American elm (Ulmus americana) predominated, then red elm (U. rubra), then rock elm (U. thomasii), which I confused with American for years.  We had huge American elms; but 90% of them died in my first 10 years here, from Dutch Elm Disease (DED).  American elm trees are lovely to look at- but of very little use to humans otherwise.  The wood rots immediately; making it dangerous to fell a big tree dead more than a few months- they call them "widow-makers", because huge portions of the top can crack off in felling- and fall the opposite way.  On you.  The wood is pretty, distinctive, but very little used because it tends to crack as it dries, and warps like crazy. And when the wood burns- it stinks; the farmers in most of the midwest called it "piss-elm".  Dry American elm does make a hot fire, though, if stinky; apparently unlike English elm.  Most versions of the firewood rhyme from England say "Elmwood burns like churchyard mould; even the very flames are cold."  Ew.

Red and rock elm are just a little resistant to the DED fungus.  Part of the picture is that American elm is a tetraploid species- it has 4 copies of the chromosomes, which often makes a plant more vigorous.  And it was faster growing, and often bigger than red or rock- but they are diploids; and sometimes slower growing means tougher.  Sometimes, the diploids can get DED - and get over it.  My old friend did; in that previous hot dry year; I watched, afraid I was going to lose her.  The stress of the drought brought on a serious attack of DED- I watched the leaves in the crown wither and die.  And rejoiced, in the literal meaning of that word, when she recovered over the next few years.  I admire survivors.  That was when I started gathering and planting her seeds.

No, I never named her.  Though I knew her intimately.  She stood just beside the tractor road I made into our woods, which we immediately also used for walking and skiing.  There were very few times when I traveled that road, in any mode, when I did not pause and look up at her crown, to see how she was doing.  I watched hard in the spring of 2013.  But she was gone.

She was big.  By anyone's standards.  I felled her yesterday, and the stump where I cut is about 30 inches in diameter.  Very large, for this area; our Minnesota hardwoods are lovely- but smaller than those East and South.  The wood from the crown, fully dry after one year, will heat two households for several weeks.  Her crown was unusual.  Very broad; branching, rising, and spreading with curves that I can only describe as Art Nouveau.   And each branch sensible, individual, and functional.

The big trunk is blocking the road now- and will likely block it for a couple weeks, until we can get in through the deep snow and haul the log out with the tractor.  I have fantasies of getting one or two of the logs cut for boards.  We can use them.  And I'll try to get some of the top turned into a bowl or two; red elm is a favorite of wood turners, too.

How does it feel, to burn my old friend's bones?

Warm.  Decades of warm.

Long years of memory; long years of companionship.  She was my companion.

I don't know if she knew; the gulf between our species is very large; but I knew.  And it wouldn't surprise me at all, as either human or scientist, if she knew.  Most tree species are tens of millions of years older than our paltry 2 and half or so.  They are very sophisticated creatures- and survivors.  Their life-pulse is so slow, few humans can sense it; they live in an utterly different way, and time.  Right beside us.

She is my companion still.  With every chunk of her I put into the stove, I remember our lives.  I think she's glad.  Now she's warming two houses, full of my family.  Her stump is 4 feet tall, and will last for at least 20 years.  Big enough to sit children up on; big enough to host hundreds of smaller creatures yet, in that time.

She's taking care of my babies.  I'll take care of hers.  Some 20 or so of her seedlings are growing; I'll see to it they get a chance.

There is no goodbye here.  I looked at her crown so many thousands of times, I'll always see it when I look at her children.  Clear as clear.

I'm quite sure I'm uncertain.

Thanks for the kind comments on the last post; and thanks to Mary Ellen:

mary ellen said...

Miss you Greenpa. Hope all is well with you and the beautiful girl.

I miss you guys, too. I've been struggling with a bad dose of "writer's block" for some time now; not the blog so much, but some professional writing I've promised to do and need to do. I've been trying to break that block, so all my available writing energy has been going there. To no real avail.

Many reasons. And it's not as easy to just whip off a blog post here as it used to be. The world has become even more uncertain. I could fill up the blog with lists of our woes, easily enough. But; really- I figure you guys have woes enough of your own, yes?

My Theory Of The Popularity Of Soap Opera is not so much the commonly cited "misery loves company", but that the great majority of folks can watch a soap and sigh in relief "at least my life isn't as screwed up as they are!" I could probably provide that sort of entertainment.

But it's kind of cheap relief. I would like to be able to offer something more substantive. And right now, between tornadoes, earthquakes, nuclear meltdowns, hurricanes, political chaos... etc.... it just gets hard to find, sometimes.

It's all pretty depressing, in fact. And neither you, nor I , need more depressing.

At my time of life, I've been through multiple episodes of depressing circumstances. When you find yourself becoming petrified by it all, one of the tools that can help pull your socks up is to remember - actively - there is good, and beautiful, stuff in the world, all the time. Then you make yourself notice it. That's the thing- when the burdens get really heavy, and the blows from the careless universe pile up- we stop seeing the good bits.

They're there, though. And in exactly that frame of mind, I looked up and out my window.

And this is what was right, immediately in front of me. Burning-bright in a spot of August sunlight, surrounded by the shadowed forest.

It's just two sprays of goldenrod, lost in the woods. I have fields full of the stuff. So much that I forget to look at it.

But I looked at this. And remembered. There is beauty to be seen. Pleasure to be taken, just for the look. If the "click for bigger" feature is working, you will find a wasp in the upper left corner; collecting nectar I'm pretty sure. Good to see one out doing simple work.

Of course the irony of having this natural gold, mine for the visual collection, occurred to me; with so much intense, fierce, fussing about the metallic kind now going on.

It's there. Free. Easy. Eternal. If you can remember: look for it.

I felt better, after noticing. And - two days later - it's still with me.

Hang in there, folks. We're all in this together.

Life intrudes.

I'm struggling with about 10 (literally) thorny problems here at the moment; some local, some much larger than that, all of them requiring my full brain- simultaneously. And it's hot.

So, of course, a great deal of my brain (and body) capacity is being devoted to just not exploding. Annoying the way that works.

Sitting at the computer, fingers clacking away on the keyboard as I crank out earth-shaking words the world desperately needs- Smidgen comes up the ladder and right up to me, obviously demanding attention. Using all available restraint, since interrupting me- while the keyboard is clacking- is something she knows is really, really, really going to cause trouble- I turn to her: and 100% of the brain shifts, dropping everything. There's a tear, and a wad of pink tissue paper she's holding to her mouth-

I'm a daddy. Just am. It's a fact; my kids are the most important thing in the world.

I look in her eyes, and it's clear she's not in dire distress.

"Is it your tooth?" I ask.

"Uh-huh. Look." And pulling the tissue away, there is the loose tooth she's been showing off for weeks- now protruding at a right angle - but very definitely still attached.

"Mom says you have to get it out."

Oh, really. Spice is passing the buck. And Smidgen is looking at me - like I will, of course, handle this.

At the speed of Google, my brain searches all - and I mean all- possible ways of weaseling out of this, and can find none that will not diminish me in Smidgen's eyes. Trapped.

My fingers don't look like useful tools here, the second incisor is tiny, tapering, and slippery; and the adjacent gums tender. Trying to grab and yank would have way too much trauma potential, for all involved.

Pliers? Oh, really not. My internal reference database on tooth extraction comes up with Mark Twain's amusing version from Tom Sawyer- the thread around the tooth, and a quick yank. If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly. I call for thread.

That, at least, Spice provides. Tying a slip-knot noose in thread is tricky enough, and takes 3 tries before I have one I trust to do the job. Like chopping the head off a chicken- this is not a job you want to have to do twice.

Smidgen, who cries when mean people break toys in cartoons, is a rock in any real crisis; she stands steady and trusts me to do the right thing. Hard to explain how much that matters.

I manage, with huge fat fingers, to slip the thread around what I think is the right place on the miniscule slippery bit of ivory; snug the noose up, and while chatting with Smidgen like we're not quite ready to do this yet, my hind brain pulls the trigger, surprising both Smidgen and I, and the yank happens...

No tooth. What? Did the noose slip off? Tooth fly across the room? I'm going to have to do this again??

Surprise, the thread noose just snipped through the tiny remaining bit of gum tissue, and the tooth, now out, is still there, slightly stuck to her lower lip. Got it.

All the trauma, imaginary in any case, is over, now it's all pure fun.

I wouldn't be surprised if this photo comes back to haunt her, in her teenage years. What you have here is a very goofy-looking kid, with swimming-pool hair, and a nice new gap in the teeth. It is pretty distorted by the "close-up-clown-nose" effect of the camera. I assure you, this is a child who has repeatedly drawn "what a beautiful little girl!" comments from total strangers. No, really. Hard to tell here, I have to admit- though as daddy, I can still see the beautiful little girl while looking at the Huck Finn Grin.

Off she goes.

And for today- I'm a success.

That'll keep me going a while.

(ps. If you wanna see the beautiful version; here's one.)

sledding

For the winter deprived; Smidgen and snow.

Yes, sledding means you gotta pull your sled up the hill.

That Aermotor in the background is indeed our house water source.

We do have other kinds of sleds, including a classic Flexible Flyer; but this was the choice today. "The snow is pretty fluffy still, the flatbottom sleds will be faster..." "Hu'uh. This one!" Boy, nobody listens.

:-)

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ok, so the second photo is "clickable", and gets to the full size pic, where you can actually see her face. The first photo- won't. I uploaded them at the same time; exact same procedures. Anybody able to clue me in on why one works and the other doesn't?

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etbnc- how do you see those anchor tags? I use Safari- and at this point, can't see any differences.

I DID, though; take your hint; and look at the hypertext language in Edit mode; and was able to copy the stuff from the working one, subbing the numbers from the first; and - it works! Many thanks! Right here:

I paid too much.

  I'm kinda afraid to say "I'm back!" - but; I may be back.  We'll see.  I am back from my trip, and it was a tremendously productive and useful one, the kind that leaves your head spinning with new possibilities, and solutions to old problems, and lots of energy...

  After which, you arrive home to reality, and while it's wonderful; that damned pot hole in the driveway still needs to be fixed...

  And so it goes.  As St. Vonnegut put it repeatedly.  Anyway; an actual post:

  Two days ago, I paid too much for an antique.  On purpose.

  The "antique" is a hand-cranked feed grinder; for turning whole corn etc. into chicken feed.  It's small scale agriculture; but from the day when people bought such things expecting them to work without breaking, for a lifetime; to serve their own needs fully, and well.

  I've needed one for a year, and have been suffering mentally from the fact that before I had any poultry I saw one, languishing in an antique mall, asking to be taken home for a very measly $35; a great 40 lb chunk of cast iron from another era.  Nobody was buying, obviously; it's a heavy working machine, and doesn't transform well into a tchotchke.  I'd admired the beautiful design and utility of it, and passed on; and kicked myself constantly for not buying it, all the days after.

  Once I needed one, they vanished from the antique malls of course.  I looked, asked, drove to see the other dealer across town, etc, for several years, with no luck.  Most dealers knew what it was I was talking about, and had seen them; but were also aware that the market for them was nearly non-existent.

  On my way driving home, I stopped for a break in the small town where I went to high school; a place to which I retain very few ties.  Walked past our old house, noticed that the tuck pointing I'd done on the front stairs was holding up fine, but that whatever I hadn't repaired then was now in desperate need.  And finding a couple of antique stores, looked in mostly out of community curiosity, not real hope.  They always ask; "Looking for anything special?"  And I always answer, as a way to open communication, and ease the situation dynamics.  "Yeah, I'm looking for a... "  and the hands start flailing about to express dimensions and actions.

  "Nope.  But the other store back up town might- they've got a basement."  Ok.  Trudge.  "Oh, I really don't know.  I have two dealers who might; let's see - "  and hailing one who happened to be in, relayed my request.  "Well.  Maybe."

  Let's look.  And there, behold, is my feed grinder.  Cleaned up to an insane degree, and painted fire engine red in hopes of achieving tchotchke-hood, but there it is; massive cast iron, with enough wear on the iron teeth to prove a long and useful career already achieved; with another hundred years left in it.

  There's the tag.  Flip it over.  $145.00.

  Now- the lady, who inadvertently had blurted "you know, we thought that's what it was!" and thus revealed her position of inferior knowledge, was looking at me very hopefully, as I looked up from the tag.  There wasn't any doubt in my mind that if I'd played the game, she'd have cheerfully taken $100; or maybe a lot less- ("man, the last one I saw was a lot better, and they were only asking $35!") but instead, I gave her a full-smile, put out my hand, and said "Done!"

  And I was actually aware of what I was doing.  I was willing to pay the exorbitant price for two reasons.  One; pure celebratory joy that I'd succeeded in this long search, and I can now grind my own stuff to feed the guineas and chickens; and Two -

  Two is more complicated.  This was a piece of pretty important machinery to me; and similar bits of old technology exist in many corners of antique stores, attics, basements and barns.  Most of these old tools wind up thrown away.  "Nobody wants that junk anymore; it's just scrap."

  A bunch of the tools I used to build this house came out of antique stores; and the need for these simpler machines is increasing, not decreasing.

  I paid the price cheerfully - to encourage, forcefully, this lady and her antique dealer friends to preserve the old tools when they find them; and make them available to those of us who recognize and want them.  I didn't tell her that.

  I doubt that extra $45 will ever find its way back to me, in karmic payoff.  But.  It was my contribution, for the day, to the direction of human enterprise.  Hopefully, it will help a few others find what they need, down the road.

  A little shove on the iceberg.

Deep Wisdom

That's what y'all hang around here, for, right?  And here we are, New Year's Day- the premier day of the year for passing good, useful wisdom around.

As it happens, I have some for ya, right here.  :-)

Years ago- I was visiting my younger brother in Boulder, Colorado.  It's a university town- one of the renowned party schools of the world.  Tons of well-to-do elite scions floating around town, with money to spend.

So of course, there's a downtown with plenty of flashy shops to soak up all the excess cash.  And lots of attractions.  My brother was taking me there to get some lunch in one of the many up-scale boutique nosherys; and specifically to experience the abundant buskers.

It wasn't a word I was familiar with up to then- they're street performers; expecting you to put a bit in the hat after you enjoy their act.  My brother told me that an extraordinary collection of wildly diverse and insanely talented buskers had also been attracted to the huge supply of loosely attached dollars- so it sounded like good fun to me.

We drove to an off-main parking lot (close in was always impossible) and walked two blocks into this core area of yuppie enterprise.  One block away- I stopped- and started to laugh.

And I couldn't stop.  I kept laughing- in various uncontrollable fashions- all the way up to the object of my amusement.

It was a New Age bookstore- advertising, in big block letters obvious a block away as its principle product-

EXOTIC WISDOM!

Ok, I'm still laughing.

Oh. my. god.

And, of course, the windows were full of spiffy tools- Buddha and Ganesh statues, books on Zen stained-glass making, Druid-Sufi t-shirts, you name it.

Hey, man!  Don't gimme none o' that HOME-GROWED wisdom!  I want me the real, EXOTIC stuff!!

LOL!!!!!  I am, truly, still laughing.

See- in my book- genuine wisdom is; um WISDOM.  And utterly priceless; wherever you can find it.  Its always rare, and hard to find.

And I do truly think anybody who goes looking for EXOTIC wisdom- has utterly failed to understand what wisdom is.

Please understand, I'm not opposed to picking up a bit of wisdom from Buddha, Master Kong, Pliny the Elder or Younger, Mel Brooks, or any of them guys.  It's just that in my experience, what they have to offer is truly no more acute than the insights to be gained from my neighbor; his grandmother, or my almost 4 year old daughter.  And the proportions of wisdom to nonsense are really the same from one source to another, too.

That's all I'm going to offer today- take any scrap of wisdom you can get ahold of, and hang on to it.  

It's about all we can do, in the days to come.

oh, yeah.  The buskers were great.  One of them had an eidetic memory - for Zip codes.  He had anyone in the audience tell him a Zip code- and he would tell you exactly where it was. Like, in a big city, the block.

And he could.  All except- mine, for some baffling reason.  He knew minute towns of 50 people all over the US- but not mine.  hm.

The Parable of The Shed: Why 30 years is not forever.

One useful aspect to all of us forcibly attending Camp TEOTWAWKI now, is that many people truly are starting to be more mindful of their choices.   Think before you invest.  Look before you leap off your burning bridges.  That sort of thing.

Guidance in making long term decisions though, is hard to come by, and harder to judge.  Does this expert advisor actually have a clue, or ...  have I wound up with Alfred E. Neuman,  yet again?

Not long after Spouse and I built the Little House, and actually started living here, it became quite clear that we needed more space.  15' x 20'; including a wood stove, piano, and kitchen sink, and dining room table, just does not leave a lot of room for projects, like building a set of shelves.  No place left to walk, while that is under way.

Virtually all farm type operations include outbuildings; a barn, a shed- a workshop.  So it wasn't too difficult to decide that we did, indeed, need a multipurpose shed, not too far from the house.  We figured it should serve as a: work shop, bad-weather wood shed, seasonal storage space (eg. storm windows and skis in summer), materials storage (eg. boards, plywood), tool storage, empty mason jar storage.  You know.  A shed.

So quickly, you get to "where, exactly"; "how big", and "how".  "Where" was pretty limited; by the need to be close; "how big", it turns out, was partly determined by "how".

Standard construction around here would be a "pole barn" - treated wood poles, gravel or concrete floor, pre-fab roof trusses, and sheet metal sides and roof.  You just go the lumber yard, and order the stuff.  And there are loads of experienced construction teams who can zip it up for you in a couple days.

It was very easy to decide not to go that route- we had no money whatsoever.  Which meant- materials out of our 40 acres of oak/maple woods, and/or scrounged materials, and a "barn-raising" party for labor.

Then, you have to work out the details.

Something you pretty quickly find out, when you're living this kind of do-it-yourself life; the details are NOT "important".  The details are EVERYTHING.

Oddly, we teach our children the opposite, these days.  "Sure, teacher, I got the answer to the question wrong, but you can tell I understood it!" - will often get you a pity-pass in schools, even in universities.  But not in real life.  My father pounded this one in when he was an engineering prof, and I was in High School; and I got to listen to him gripe about his students.

  "But Professor, yes, I got the math wrong, but it's just a decimal point!  You can tell I totally understood the problem!"  "I don't give a good goddam if you 'understood' the problem!  Your goddam building FELL DOWN; and 370 people died!!  The only thing that matters is the right answer.  The F stands. "  And he would shake his head in amazement at their incomprehension.

So, I was well trained to do my homework regarding construction, and I'd adsorbed quite a bit of information via osmosis- and from helping my father re-build most of the houses we'd lived in (many).  Looking around at the old homesteads here, I found quite a few old chicken coops and corn cribs that were made with just white oak posts for their basic support; planted in the ground; and easily 50 years old.  Obviously, white oak can last a long time in our soils; the stated lifespan for chemically treated poles in direct soil contact is usually 30-40 years.

Doing more homework- the expected lifespan for white oak fenceposts around here is less; 20-30 years.  The difference is attributed mostly to the roof- poles under a roof should spend more of their life dry.

Most of my available poles are not exactly "white oak" - Quercus alba; but burr oak; Q. macrocarpa.  The textbooks say, though, that in this case, they're pretty much the same in regard to rot resistance.

So, using my own oak poles, we should be able to put up a shed that will last 30 years; no sweat.  We had a good supply of 12"-8" diameter red pine poles for rafters and plates; pine boards and 2/4's for other structure- and we helped a friend tear down a local railroad station for windows and siding.  We did buy metal for the roof.

When you're 30 years old- 30 years into the future looks indistinguishable from "forever", or "until we die."  And, guess what?  It isn't.  Here I am- 30 odd years later-

And sure as heck; the time has run out on some of my burr oak poles.

This is the SW corner pole.  And, as you can see- it's entirely rotted off- the bottom of the pole is now a good 6" above the ground.  Hm.

We just discovered it, absurdly enough.  The shed had gone through a phase where it got increasingly cluttered and useless, to the point where I only referred to it as "The Dread Shed"; and it got to the point where Middle Child and his wife decided to totally overhaul it, bless them.  Unburying the corner- where we already knew a woodchuck had chewed through the outer wall (and wrought havoc inside for months); we discovered the rotted off pole.  Oh, so that's why the windows have been breaking.

The shed is not falling down.  One of the advantages of using big logs for plates and rafters- they're enormously strong, and well secured on the other poles- most of which are not rotted off.  This corner is the wettest one.  But- the building is sagging, putting stress on everything.  

So now what?  Fix it?  Tear the shed down and rebuild?  I don't want to.

Dammit, I'm 60 years old now, busy, and I want the bloody shed to be in usable shape; I don't want to be building, or fixing.

Why didn't I build it to last in the first place?

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That turns out to be a complex, and highly significant question.  Lissen up; and maybe you can avoid my mistakes.

A)  I was young (30) and stupid.  I thought 30 years was forever.  It really really isn't.

B)  Everybody I asked thought 30 years was forever, too.  Or plenty long enough.

C)  The entire construction industry is built around the idea that structures should not last more than 50 years; even homes.  Then you should build a new one.  You want to benefit from the constant improvements in modern materials and design, don't you?  Well then.  They really like that- so if you read their text books, or go to them for advice- that's what they'll tell you.

and

D) Building structures with longer life-spans is quite a lot more expensive.  Like double.

E) Financial advice is always- that investments in durable structures are not sensible.  The reasoning there: if you put that money in the stock market instead, it would give you better returns (no laughing, now); and, they're quite sure you will move to a better, more expensive location later in life, as you become more successful; so you won't get the benefit of the more durable structure anyway; and whoever you sell your old place to will not pay you any premiums for the better buildings; people just don't.

F)  That's the way we build stuff in the States- always have.  Ever since Europeans arrived here- they've been sure they were going to move in the next 10-20 years, to someplace better. Why build for the long term?

See any holes in any of the logic here?

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I'm cogitating, pondering, and kneading all this stuff right now for a couple of specific reasons; I've got to figure out what to do about this shed; and- about future construction here.  We're in the process of building space for animals (guineas! ) - and you can check out a recent rhapsody on barns by Sharon, here.

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More in the next post.   Think about it!  And think about all the stone farmhouses in Europe... and how old they are...

Financial Tooth Fairies, Ex Machina!!

Zooming out to work on the guinea run before the sun gets hot, still I couldn't resist sharing this bit of astonishing fiscal humor with you before I go.  From the New York Times: "A New Tool Announced To Support Home Loans."

The boys in The New York Stock Casino have come up with a new game!!  (that's what a "tool" is-)  it's called- "covered bonds".

Oh, be still my heart!  Finally, the magic wand is waved, and the mortgage collapses all go away.  If you're not cackling and rolling on the floor in helpless laughter yet, you really should be.

They're all chanting "I DO believe in "tools"! I DO! I DO!"- and hoping, praying, the rest of the world will join them.  Puffing new hot air into the housing bubbles- which just don't hold air anymore.  There's no such thing as housing expansion.

It's a short article.  If you can see anything besides smoke and mirrors in these "covered" bonds, by all means, let me know.  It's pure, pure, puerile fantasy.  This is what our financial leadership has been reduced to.  What they're really showing us is that their entire system of air castle builders has no idea- none- what real wealth is; or real value.  All they know is: money; and if I sell you my pile of money, and charge you interest on it, you can sell me the same pile of money back, and charge ME interest on it; then I have a big pile of money again, and I can sell it back to YOU, and charge YOU interest on it; and we all get bonuses at the end of the year!  Forever!  Really!

Then, look at the list of who's going to be selling these new covered bonds "secured by pools of assets like home loans" - and then read this little bit in the article: "Unlike mortgage securities, which pass all the risk to investors, covered bonds collateralized with mortgages would continue to perform even if the mortgages backing them default — as long as the bank remains solvent."

ROTFLMAO!!!!

I'm going to run right out, and bet that Wells Fargo is going to remain solvent!!  Sure I am.

oh, dear, tears of helpless laughter in my eyes.

What fools these mortals be.

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Update-  OMG!!!  And it just gets better and better!  A followup article, NYT- has a little more discussion about what the heck a covered bond is, and what it might do-  and contains this gem:

"Covered bond markets exist in many European countries. In some of them, laws make the legal standing of such bonds clear, but Mr. Paulson and the other agencies concluded that no legislation was needed, and that policy statements by regulators would suffice."

My god, why aren't these guys writing for Saturday Night Live! ???  I mean- just look where running our entire financial system based on "policy statements by regulators" has gotten us so far!  By all means- we need more of that!  

Tears in my eyes!!

You can see it: in "Blazing Finances" --  "Legislation?  We don' need no stinkin' legislation!"  Mel Brooks, I hope you're taking notes.  Or Broadway could really use "Springtime For Paulson"; coming soon.

"Springtime, for Paulson, and Bernanke.  Winter, for Congress, and hope."  It even scans.

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And the Washington Post chimes in! "Executives from four banks -- Bank of America, J.P. Morgan Chase, Citigroup and Wells Fargo -- stood shoulder to shoulder with Paulson at the news conference and issued a joint statement saying they would consider issuing covered bonds, although they were not specific about their plans."

Guys, you're killing me!!  "Shoulder to shoulder!!!"  forsooth!!  Our brave, brave little soldiers in pinstripes!!! - and all committing to- oh, wait, they didn't actually commit to anything at all.

I'm gasping for breath here!!!

Thank god the "Financial Sector"  (gasp!  choke!  cackle!)  is good for something these days; I haven't laughed this hard in years!

signs of the times-

This post is not as much fun as dirty dishes or guinea fowl; but it's another one where I just can't help gritting my teeth and shaking my head.

Big news?  Front page, NYT?  Golly, the industry based on pandering to the Wall Street Grand Casino staff, is set to tank; there may be $18 Billion less in "bonuses" this year for them to spend on - you, stuff.  There's a cool graph of bonuses- damnedest thing, right after the neo-cons got in, the bonuses started to skyrocket.

Tiny news?  So little you can't find it?  Suicides- caused by foreclosures.  In the "Health" section of ABC news.  Way down there.

One suicide.  Would you wanna get there are hundreds more, that have already happened?  And how many "investigative journalists" are there digging out that story?  ?  It's nice to know, the mortgage company said they were "devastated".

There are times when I don't like the news writers much.

oh, yeah, and the news in the middle- visible, but barely - 2 more national banks were seized; on Friday; just a bit after the Grand Casino closed for the weekend.

Grinning While Rome Burns

Ah, the rewards of living a good honest life!  This, apparently, is what our world thinks is a "worth while" "job"-  conducting incomprehensible hocus-pocus with huge piles of money.  The benefits to the world are obvious of course- an improved standard of living, all around.

We DON'T have to put up with this, you know.  The laws could be changed.  In fact, it's time to OUTLAW the trading of food- and energy - for profit alone.  Just as it is obviously obscene to think about "holding" chemotherapy drugs for profit- it's JUST as obscene to hold FOOD- for profit.  And oil, at this point- people are dying- now for the lack of basic food and energy.  No, they don't starve- it's violence, first.

The big money managers are all a-flutter as to what to DO about starving millions- "oh, what can we do?!" they cry (see previous 3 posts).

NOT ONE of them, so far, has suggested CLOSING markets to speculators.  Would it be difficult?  Duh.  Could it be DONE?  

yes.

Start now.  Get the colleges riled up about it- START TALKING about it; CALL your legislator and RANT about the PURE OBSCENITY of "food profiteers" - and tell them you want hearings- and legislation - on how much of the increase in the price of food, and oil, is purely due to "speculation".

Start it moving.

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Ask yourself.  Is it possible to truly "earn" - $3.7 Billion in a year?    From that article: "Combined, the top 50 hedge fund managers last year earned $29 billion." Personally, my answer is no, that's not "earning".  There's another word.  And golly, the World Bank can afford all of $10 million for the starving in Haiti.  

And- WHERE did that money come from?  It has to come from  somewhere.

Really?  Truly?  Ultimately it comes from all those like the people in Bangladesh - who last year were spending 40¢ a day on food - out of the $1 a day they have; and this year are spending 80¢ a day- on their one meal.  Out of the 90¢ a day they have.

OBSCENE.

So, today- crude oil hits a new record high; over $115- and the Dow closes UP 256 points?  Can you spell "totally clueless?"

Sorry, DC, I'm still really really pissed.  But I'm enjoying it, anyway.

Slow it.

Thanks, everybody, for the great comments and additions to the last post.  Lovely stories.

We do read at bedtime, too. Smidgen is a high-energy kid, and takes a lot of winding-down; so we entice her with a story (ok, or 2) first, then songs. She's listened her way all through Charlotte's Web, Redwall, and the first 3 Little House Books now.  Took a few tries to get her past the point of wanting to flip to the next picture, but she's there.

It's a big chunk of time, every day. And every once in a while, I find myself nudging myself about some chore that's still waiting - "hurry this up, for crying out loud; it's taking forever, and X is bloody urgent, and you know it..."

X IS bloody urgent. But this is where this sleep ritual turns into training for the parent; of a particularly forceful and valuable kind.

Most times, it's relatively easy to look at the almost sleeping child and see- what's REALLY the most important thing here.  And the most ephemeral.

I'm blessed to have 2 grown sons with whom I get along very well; they were best men at my wedding, for crying out loud.  My head knows, and remembers, the joy I had in their babyhood; the snuggles, tears, discoveries, bandaids and songs.

Oh, but- my body does not remember, not really.  Until - I feel the small warm fingers of this present Smidgen in my hand, and listen to her breathing quiet, and hear her very small yawn.

Then, I can physically flash back- and fully recapture; I had this same moment, with both boys, at one time or another.  It was so precious, and so fleeting.  It makes me try harder to fix this current moment in memory- to hang on to it.  It makes me KNOW- in the deepest philosophical sense- this is what's most important.  And most urgent.

And it sinks in.  This takes time; requires time; demands time.  My time.  Now.  The rewards, in this case, are immediate, and powerful.  There is nothing else I could be doing that could reward me like this.

If I'm not too sleepy by this point, the progression of thought is pretty straightforward.  Essentially- everything worth doing takes - time.  Slow, thoughtful, mindful time.  

Almost everything on your list of "green" or "sustainable" actions will have that requirement.  You need to be "present" - beginning to end- and I fear it will never be "like falling off a log".  

I'm inclined to think that's a good thing, though.  It just takes some getting used to.

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On a very different note; I got a good pat from Andy Revkin today, at DotEarth- comment #41, in case the link doesn't land you there...  DC, and Crunch, I see movie posters...  :-)

Cheer up, Brian!

Doom and gloom is, like, so depressing!  And Cheery Chicken has to go and talk about murdering horsies today!  sigh.

In an attempt to not drive all my readers away permanently, by sheer weight of the world's burdens, I'm going to write about something a little more palatable.

Singing your children to sleep.

I sang my boys to sleep until the younger was what- 4? or 5.  A long time.  And every night, with very few exceptions.  Spouse and Spice share(d) the chore sometimes; but frankly I like doing it, and kind of stole this job when I could.

It started with my first child- when I was youngish and raring to go forth and prove that education is useful.  As far as I know, I just thought this up- by using what I knew-

People expect singing to soothe the child; but I set out to intentionally CONDITION the baby to fall asleep when I sang.

Babies, and children, sometimes are at odds with their parents regarding the timing of sleep.  This probably comes as a shock to the non-parents out there, but alas, it's true.  Sometimes, when you are dead tired and want sleep- the little stinkers won't.  And won't let you, either.

It would be SO wonderful to be able to wave a magic wand, say "sleep, beautiful child", and have the little boogers just conk out.  PLEASE.

So.  I tried singing.  Guess what?  The dirty so-and-so WAKES up to listen.  Hey, new, interesting!  I can wave my feet in time!

Back to the alleged thought processes.  What do we know about triggering desirable behaviors?

Pavlov comes to mind, though it's not more drool I want, it's SLEEP.

With somnolence aforethought then, I made an EFFORT.  I made it a point to be there, when the durn critter was already falling asleep because of sheer exhaustion.

DON'T start to sing- until the child is nine-tenths gone.  Sing softly.  Continue singing for a good minute after the creature is clearly asleep.

Then do it again.  And again.  Then start singing when the kiddle is HALF asleep.  Repeat.

Then start singing just as they're getting sleepy.

You should be getting the idea by now.  You are getting sleepy...  drowsy... so warm and comfortable, it's hard to keep your eyes open...  you will send me money, lots and lots of  money...

While just the sound of your voice is a big part of it, having one particular song for the exact transition works even better.  When the child is actually conditioned, singing in the accustomed way can MAKE the child sleepy, and put them to sleep; ready or not.

We started this process with Smidgen way back there.  Now that she's 3, it's a major part of nightly ritual.  Sure, it takes time, but it's a treasured bit of the day, for all concerned.  It takes precedence over any other urgency- the kid needs to go to bed NOW- I have to be there, to sing.

Have to.

At this point, Smidgen is highly aware of it all- and puts pressure on for...  MORE.  Don't wanna go to sleep yet, sing me another song.

Ok, smarty... here's one... in French.  Ha.  Slipping a little education in, and you don't even know it.  Now I get "sing me porkwa"  on a regular basis.  I do provide a translation, too- this is "Dites moi", from "South Pacific".  

So you can expand your repertoire, and the child's.  There's an awful lot of songs that have lessons in them one way or another.  You get to choose.  And you can make up your own- sticking in bits of things from today's events- or tomorrow's.

And you can play, always.  Sometimes I sing "Raindrops on roses" - and sometimes I sing "Raindrops on noses".  Keeps her on her toeses.  Mostly I get a little wriggle and grin and a "nooooo.  Start over."

But the conditioning still holds.  When it's really TIME; I start to sing "All the pretty little horses" - and on the second line- Smidgen will yawn.  95% certainty.  The second time I sing it- she's dropping off fast.  The third time- which is hummed- she's out; sinking down into deep stable sleep.

At the end of that- ha!  she's putty in my hands.  :-)  I can slip my arm out from under; straighten her out, even move her to another bed- and she will not wake.

This is useful in sickness, too; when the child is waked up off schedule, miserable, can't sleep- a little cuddling, and the song- and they'll relax, and sleep.  Also in strange places; traveling...

Thank you, Pavlov.

I haven't ever tried to calculate the hours out of my life spent singing to my children.  It has to be many hundreds, by now.   

Thanks, kids.

Because: Yes.

Today is Smidgen's 3rd birthday.  Do I have time to be doing this post?  Of course not.  But I'm doing it anyway.  Why?

Because- yes.

That's Smidgen's straightforward answer, when I ask HER "why?" 

 I'm a strong believer in turning the tables on your children, as soon and as often as possible.  Since she's well into the age of "why?' - she gets it right back.  "Don't tickle me!"  "Why not?  It makes you laugh and wiggle.  You like to laugh and wiggle, you do it all the time, all by yourself.  Why not?"  

"Because: don't!"

Strikes me as quite wise- and generally irrefutable.  I hope to use it often.

It has happened a few times that I have been asked "why"- why are you doing "this"- meaning living this way?  My answer is simple.  For the children.  Mine, yes; but all of them, really.  We need to leave our children a world that has a future to offer them.  And it seems obvious to me, that if your children are desperate- my children will suffer.  So yes- for all of them (whether you actually have any, or not.)

So I'm taking the time today to put these self-indulgent bits regarding the journey so far together.  Smidgen does get a kick out of seeing herself on the web, of course- hope you enjoy these too.

Because: yes.  

This is where we started- Smidgen, age 1 day. 

(all these photos can be clicked on for larger versions.)

Smidgen, age 3-days.  My hands, and hers.

Death by carrots.  The Way is not smooth.

First ocean experience- well before dawn, due to jet-lag.

Ocean-shmocean, now THIS is really interesting.  (with big brother Beelar)

Ok, yes, waves are cool.

So are big brothers, and tree roots.

(you really need to see the bigger version of this one)

Some tourist attractions can be interesting...

Limits.

Enough tom-foolery.  This is the plan.

(Bigger version recommended.  Note how precisely I hold the stylus, 

and ignore that bit of chocolate at the corner of my mouth.) 

Happy Birthday, Smidge.

New solar panels are up!

Hey, Chrusty Churkey!  Here's a nice long dense one for ya!  :-)

(For others- do be aware there will NOT be a test after you finish reading- feel free to skim over some of the technical bits; and you'll find pithy parts here and there, and at the bottom...)

As regulars here will remember, in October we had the delightful addition to our work of having our greenhouse solar power array wiped out by a direct lightning strike.

We did, finally, get the panels replaced, and up and operating.  That was a whole bunch of work- illustrating a number of points regarding attempts to move towards a greener lifestyle.

The solar panels WERE covered by our business insurance.  Mostly.  They're expensive, you know- and critical to the business, since they provide the main power for the greenhouse; so they were specifically listed on the insurance policy (unlike our stolen farm truck- not listed; worth $500 or so, and a minor piece of equipment- that was NOT covered; though our stolen chain saw; not listed, but worth $800 or so- WAS... go figure.)

But.  Insurance has become a game where most insurers spend most of their effort figuring out how to NOT pay you anything for your losses.  They sell you the policy smiling and saying "we're here to help you through bad times!" and when the hurricane hits, it's "no, no, see the fine print here?  Says if the storm hits on a Thursday, we don't owe you anything!  Ha!  Gotcha!"  

In fact my business insurance company is WAY better than most- they specialize in insuring nursery/greenhouses, and that whole world is small, and idiosyncratic in spades; so they have to be somewhat accommodating just to survive.  

The coverage on the panels though was a little too specific to be useful, causing an extra 4-6 days of discussions before we could agree on how to proceed.  The policy read "6 solar panels, max coverage $300 apiece; prorated for age; maximum liability #1800.00."

What I actually lost was 6 Siemens single-crystal panels, rated 48 watts apiece, installed in 1992.  All 6 were damaged by the lightning strike- which was just as well, since trying to find panels to hook up and replace half of the array would have been impossible.

No, that's not me, that's Jerry, who came all the way from NY to help out.  These are the panels AFTER the strike, incidentally - they look fine from this distance - but they don't work; blocking diodes melted, and some of the surface wiring between individual cells was vaporized.  Took me several days before I noticed my battery bank was not getting charged.

Nobody makes 48 watt panels today (that I could find) - and the standards for the precise inner workings of the panels have changed...

In fact EVERYTHING about solar panels has changed since I bought my first ones- in 1982, I think (the cost- about $15/peak watt.)  The only option then was single crystal- and a "nominal" 12V panel put out 16.something V max under load; 19V open circuit.  If YOU are the one putting the system together, yeah, you have to know ALL those numbers; they make all the difference in whether the array is going to work or not.

Also, when I first bought panels, there were approximately 3 companies doing business- and the internet did not exist.  Decisions were pretty simple.  

Not so today.  There are about 25 major companies selling panels over the internet- from about 15 different major manufacturers.  And there are minor ones, too.

The good news is- the internet really does let you compare stuff very well.

The bad news is; it still takes hours- and it's still confusing/confused after you've done your darnedest to untangle it.  

Let's just start with the hardware.

There are now single-crystal; poly-crystalline, amorphous, wire-pulled crystal, and hybrid solar panels to choose from.  At least.  Are there differences?  Duh.  Do they matter?  Hey, just read their advertising!  

Is there a good disinterested source that compares the types, based on initial cost, length of service, rate of power loss... fragility... track records...?     Not that I could find.   Actually I couldn't find even a bad, self-interested source with broad comparisons.  Even digging down into the scientific reports and engineering journals didn't help.  Half the technical info is on cells not available to the public- Gallium Arsenide, instead of silicon- and even more exotic stuff.  Wildly expensive, and not going to be available for decades, if ever, to you and me.

Just sorting out, with some level of certainty, the differences between the stuff that IS available took days.

So, here's what I learned, and what I think.  No real guarantees I'm right, though.

The original solar cells were made in the 50's - out of single cell crystals.  (They're still working, incidentally, though at a reduced output.  You own any other gizmo that's 50 years old and still works all day every day?)  

When people got interested in trying to get the cost of solar cells down, they came up with "poly-crystalline" cells.  They were supposed to be cheaper to make (though I don't see any real price differences today).  But- originally, they didn't put out as much power as single-crystal cells; and they didn't last as long.  Today, their specs claim they DO make as much power- and the 20 year/80% output guarantees are very similar.  But.  When you dig down- it seems that the RATE of power loss is still higher for both poly-crystalline and amorphous cells; single crystal cells lose power at something like 1% a year for the first 25 years; the others may lose power at 2-4% a year for the first several years; then slow down the rate of loss.

Amorphous cells rarely last longer than 10 years before needing to be replaced- they're just not as durable.  Cheaper, flexible, lighter weight, but not going to last- barring lightning (or earthquakes, tornadoes, or what-have-you), a good silicon array can be expected to function adequately for - FORTY YEARS.  

Eventually I decided I did want to go with the old single-crystal cell type.  Mostly because they've got the track record.  Some of the newer types are a little more efficient- but they haven't been around for even 20 years, so we don't exactly know how they'll be doing down the road.  Ok.  Now- which ones?  Made by whom?

Here some of the panel sellers ARE useful- the best ones list good, uniform technical specs for each panel- with the manufacturer's spec sheet available as a downloadable PDF.  Great- still very time consuming, and you have to be conversant in the language; and able to sort out stuff like:

Performance under standard test conditions (STC)
Peak Power (Pmax): 175 watts
Maximum power point voltage (Vmpp): 35.7 volts
Maximum power point current (Impp): 4.9 amps
Open Circuit Voltage (Voc): 44.4 volts
Short Circuit Current (Isc): 5.4 amps

Performance at 800w/sq m, NOCT, AM1.5
Peak Power (Pmax): 131 watts
Maximum power point voltage (Vmpp): 33.1 volts
Maximum power point current (Impp): 4.0 amps
Open Circuit Voltage (Voc): 41.1 volts
Short Circuit Current (Isc): 4.4 amps

Minor reduction in efficiency under partial load conditions at 25C at 200 W/sq m, 95% (+/- 3%) of the STC efficiency (1000 W/sq m) is achieved

And, what does that all mean?  Basic translation: "these panels claim to be 175 watt output, but "Standard Test Conditions" are unrealistic; slightly more realistic ones suggest 131 watts is a better average guess; and if it's a little cloudy, subtract more.  These are "nominal" 24VDC panels- which is why they're putting out 35.7V under good conditions, of course- so your 24V batteries actually get charged."

Getting a headache yet?  I sure was, around day 4 of trying to sort this stuff out.

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Slight aside #1: if you're thinking of getting solar panels- or a wind generator- do you really have to know all this technical stuff?

Answer: It's very much like getting your car fixed.  You either have to be able to do it yourself; or you need to be able to TRUST your mechanic.

There are plenty of mechanics who will rip you off if they CAN.  "Hey, your infrahydraulic-frammulator is totally clogged!  Dangerous to drive with it that way!  I can put in a new one for only $320!"

Unless you know SOMETHING about it all; you're at risk of being ripped off, but good.  And the more you know; the better.  Not to mention that even good honest mechanics DO sometimes make boo-boos- and it helps if you're paying attention- knowledgeably. 

The good news again- is the internet.  You CAN educate yourself enormously faster, and better, than you could 15 years ago.  But you still need to go into the process with your brain turned on; and be aware that there are thieves and liars on the internet, too.  Surprise.

---------------------------------------

So - back to my installation- here is what I wound up with: 

Two panels; instead of 6.  And they're 24VDC instead of 12 (greenhouse battery system is 24V.)  Those numbers above are for these panels; nominal 175 watts.

Basically, as more folks are installing solar arrays, the available panels have been getting bigger- and cheaper. Some economies of scale do seem to be kicking in. These panels were advertised at one site as $4.60/watt - which is CHEAP. Buying 50 watt panels to replace my 288 watt array would have cost me over $6/watt, best I could find. Some good incentive there for me to go just a bit larger; I can always use the extra power.  Now- which panels, exactly?

The basic specs on a lot of panels have changed since I last bought some, 10 years ago.  They all operate at slightly higher voltage; and they ALL come with built-in blocking diodes; something my first ones didn't have.  All that is good- part of the learning process I'd helped pay for, by buying the early stuff.  

And yes, I intended to support a growing, immature industry, by paying outrageously high prices for electricity- when friends and advisors kept pointing out "that's not even close to a competitive price for power, you know."  I knew.  We need to support green processes with our own dollars- they'll die on the vine, otherwise.

When solar panels were experimental, the engineers naturally  - put them out in the sun, right?  And measured their performance.  Unfortunately, residences and small businesses have some other factors in their reality - they're called "neighbors", "utility lines", and "trees".  All of which make "shade".  It turned out that having just ONE CELL shaded on the old panels could make the whole array quit producing power.  The voltage would drop on one panel- so the other panels would now push power- into that low panel, not the batteries.  The blocking diodes prevent that from happening; so one shaded cell doesn't mean you lose the output of the whole array; just that one panel.  And the higher over-all voltage also helps - better performance when it's a little cloudy, for example.  Quite significant in terms of power delivered to the batteries, over the years, in the real world.  Ok; having sorted THAT out (took one day, I think); I started looking just for bigger single-crystal panels, with an open circuit voltage around 44V...

Picking a manufacturer was an odyssey, too. In case you haven't noticed, the big petrochemical companies have been buying up the solar cell manufacturers. Eww.

The first panels I bought were Solarex.  They were among the first to sell to consumers; based in Maryland, I think- big plans for building a "solar breeder" plant; where all the power to make their cells would come from... solar cells.  BP (British Petroleum) bought them, quite a few years ago now- so BP can print tons of ads about how wonderful BP is, for doing all this advanced research on solar power.

Same thing happened to the Siemens solar division- which made the panels the lightning hit.  They were bought out by Shell Oil.  Double Eww.  I will run out of gas, and walk, before I buy gasoline from Shell.  Long story.

Then I ran into very similar panels made by Conergy- which, it turns out, is a German company.  Cheap, too.  Except.  As it turns out.  When you dig into the technical sheet - THESE particular German panels, imported into New Jersey, are actually made in China.  Which you can really only tell IF you can decipher their product code- they don't exactly brag about it.

Now- I'm the opposite of a China-basher.  I love the place; love the people, and I think as a country they have huge potential, if they can just avoid making all the mistakes we already have.  Sure, they have some corrupt politicians and greedy businessmen - uh - SO DO WE, in case you haven't noticed.  They also have huge numbers of very good people, including some politicians and businessmen, doing their darnedest to make China; and the world, "work".

But it IS on the other side of the planet- and the energy required to ship them just doesn't make environmental sense, as we know.  I'd rather pay more money for panels made somewhere closer.  Back to the drawing board.

There was another panel; made by a company I'd never heard of- "SolarWorld".  Kind of a cheesy name; sounds like they hired a consultant to choose it...

Digging to find out who they are- turns out, it's a German company, with what looks like a good track record- and - guess what!  These panels are being made in the California factory that they just bought- from Shell!  Who bought it from Siemens.  Round we go.

I liked the quality of the panels I'd had - these are probably made by the exact same PEOPLE - and Shell is now out of the picture.  The engineering and manufacturing is critical on anything that SHOULD last for 40 years.  These guys seem to know how.  Ok, we have a winner.

I didn't buy the panels where they were cheapest.  A) they didn't answer my emails; B) their website was a little slick and short on information; C) they shipped from the east coast; and these panels are made in California.  I bought my two panels (a tiny order) from a company that ships from California; and they answered my emails, and even called on the phone to see things were going ok with the order.

The panels arrived on a semi (too big for UPS) - like 2 days after I made the order.  Took several more days to get them installed; the old mount really could not accommodate the much taller panels; we managed to modify the old mount with some new steel; lots of sawing and drilling.  Used an old "post drill" hand powered drill press to make most of the new holes in steel.  Then took most of another day to get the panels bolted on, and wired (VERY CAREFULLY).  And we added MORE lightning protection; another ground rod, just for the panels; heavy ground wireS.  With any luck; it should be good for 40 years.

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That's most of the story on replacing the panels.  A huge part of my reason for detailing it here is to highlight the real difficulties of sorting out "what's green; what's greener; what's true; what's false; what's real; what's fake..." out here in the real world.  

That's a topic that's come up several times in all the blog conversations I check into; for example No Impact Dude; Chuncky Chincken, and Green as a Whistle.  And others.

Just the topic of "exactly how useful/green are Compact Fluorescent Lightbulbs" turns out to be complex enough to keep people writing about it, including me.

At the moment there's a serious shortage of authoritative and trustworthy voices on green consumer practices, and a worse shortage regarding particular practices.  The US Federal Govt. occasionally puts out some good comparative data- sometimes very extensive- BUT; you really have to dig for it, often it's in a weird incomprehensible form, and sometimes- it's biased by politics.

The only way to get this problem fixed: 

1) Get everybody to understand that you have to take ALL "this is green" statements with a grain of salt- and do some homework of your own to see if you can believe it.  And always will.

2) SOMEBODY (not me, I'm really busy) needs to found a green version of Consumers Union; the publishers of Consumer Reports.  They're non-profit; never accept advertising from ANYONE; forbid any maker to use their name to recommend any product (and they'll seriously sue when someone does)- they really try hard to be independent.  Perfect? no; always right, no- but the best thing I know of out there in terms of thorough independent testing and information.  But they're not about to take on this chore of green certification, on top of what they already do.  We need a new organization.

Somebody could make a good living doing that, actually, very fairly; and provide an invaluable resource for the rest of us.

And, such an organization could start to push for changes (Consumers Union members have considerable political clout) - like- how come, when you're buying a computer, or TV, or something similar- you have to absolutely BEG for the information on power consumption?  Why isn't it listed right up front; always?  Why don't businesses like Gaiam, which totally focuses on being "Earth-friendly" - actually give you the numbers?  What they say there is "Energy Star Compliant."  Oh, be still my heart.  What that means is; some bureaucrat thinks the energy use is "not too bad".   I WANT TO KNOW EXACTLY.

I NEED to know, exactly- because I'm off the grid; and every photon counts; today.  I not only want to know their "wattage" - which tends to be kind of meaningless - but I want average power consumption under 3 conditions; max load; half load, and light load.  Because EVERYTHING varies on how much power it actually pulls.  And I want numbers for average watt/HOURS/day, for each of those conditions- because a watt is just a measure of instantaneous power use- not power consumption per time.

Other stuff we need to know- embedded energy content; per gizmo; exactly how many ergs went into manufacturing this thing; and transporting it HERE.  Lifetime - lifetime energy cost, and cost/year.  Standby power use.  (And EVERYTHING needs a switch on it; up front; so there is NO standby power drain.)

We label our food like we care about it.  We've GOT to start labeling our energy consuming devices the same way.

The government is NOT going to do this, anytime soon- we're going to have to demand it, ourselves- and there's almost nothing out here, as an organized, authoritative green voice.

So.  Who's going to DO it?  You?  

Why not?