The Way Forward

At the moment, everyone on the planet is greatly afraid that we have no way forward.

I certainly don't know what will happen; but I do know these things: time will pass, we will change, and it is possible to try to find a "better way."

It would be good to remember at this point that History does have examples of times when we found a better way.  The abolition of slavery, for example and women's suffrage.  It would also be good to remember that both those events were painful; and neither resulted in completely solving the problems; slavery most certainly still exists, and many situations exist where great chunks of the populace have no say whatever in their governance.

But the effort was made; by millions of us, and the outcome was better.  Hang on to that.

A few more things we know.  In all cases where we found better ways, the truth, and fairness (not quite the same thing as justice) played major roles.  Truth, because any path based on untruth must fail by the laws of physics; and fairness - because somehow, we creatures of Earth are built to expect it.  Not only humans, but most species ever tested—primates, dogs, horses, crows, ravens— expect fairness, and resent its absence - sometimes violently.  (Google 'sense of fairness in ... ' if you want to check.)

Right now, our major social battles seem to be very short on truth, and very short on fairness.

There are some major truths we all know- which are not allowed to be uttered publicly.  Like.  Some police are racist.  All of them?  No.  But some, yes.  And the cops are not doing anything about it.

512 people have been killed in the USA by police so far this year; 990 were killed last year.  How do we know?  The Washington Post decided someone should look into the matter- since no federal agency keeps statistics on police related killings; nor do local police report them.  Here is the WaPo database.  59 police officers have died in the line of duty this year; 29 by gunfire.

Just so we know.

And - people, and parties, on all sides of everything — are afraid.  And fear makes us blind and foolish — and dangerous; to others and to ourselves.  Also untruthful; and unfair.

Just saying those things out loud, as part of the conversation, is a first step.  What to do about it can come later.

Speak truth.  Work for fairness.  I'm afraid.

If you're looking for common ground- there it is.

Albatross.

If you're like me, it seems that people are just shoveling shit into fans all over the world, these days. And avidly looking for more fans to shovel into, and bigger shovels. Faster and faster.

I find the ongoing disaster in Japan mesmerizing; a horror it is hard to look away from.

Paralyzing.

So; I'm going to share something with you; which illustrates- well, something.

Life goes on, maybe. Life can be good, maybe. Something, in any case, to hang on to, in the radioactive winds of climate change.

Here's the albatross:

Photo: Pete Leary; US Fish & Wildlife Service.

And here's the story. You're looking, there, at the oldest documented wild bird in the world. She is "Wisdom", a Laysan albatross; and she is known to be at least 60 years old - biologists have been watching her that long.

That's her chick. At 60. That was sufficiently astonishing news for the world to get her into the New York Times. It's certainly exceptional for any wild bird to live so very long; but it was really unknown that birds of that age were still capable of laying eggs- and raising chicks.

But they are. Pretty doggone cool.

Wisdom, and her chick, live on Midway Atoll; a very remote islet in the Pacific. Millions of seabirds nest there; it's a wildlife refuge now, littered of course with the reminders of World War II. The average elevation of the atoll is - 4 feet above sea level. Four.

The tsunami following the quake in Japan swept over Midway, very thoroughly. It was a catastrophe; enormous. The estimates are over 100,000 albatross chicks were killed; and 2,000 adults.

Devastating.

But that photo? Is from AFTER the tsunami. That's Wisdom. And that's her chick.

You know; I think I can live a long time on that.

Thanks. To Wisdom; and to the Fish & Wildlife folks. It's a big deal.

More Wisdom pics, if you need them.

It's a real world, after all.

Here we are, a few days on, and Gabby has been wiped off the front pages by Tunisia, which has been wiped off the front pages by Egypt.

I was proud of my blog and my readers in your responses to the last post. Thinking people, sane discussions; in spite of what is often an inflammatory topic.

Events like all of these are serving as a Rorschach blot test for our cultures. People and pundits interpret them in the light of their own interests first. I was amused at the number of columnists pointing out that the real failures in Tucson were in the health services department. Why, if only they'd had better funding, surely this poor sick man would have been helped, and all this prevented.

Which is not impossible; but what is also incandescently true is that no matter how well you fund and run any program, some human or other will slide through the remaining tiny cracks, and bad things will happen, regardless. Less often. But you cannot ever reach zero.

Surely we know this.

Then what is required of those of us who think is - some provision for the exceptions.

And what a tangled can of worms we have there. I cannot provide "answers" to the two excellent conundrums posed in the comments to the last post: "should common citizens be armed", and from Steve Salmony: "is there any hope for our species."

But I can, I think, provide a bit of useful insight.

This world of ours is what it is; and we live in it.

Discussions and opinions about what it should be are useful. But they should not be mistaken for realities waiting to pop into place.

Perspective on arming of citizens comes from Egypt, right now. Their police have been rejected by the people, declared and made illegitimate. Leaving the streets open to any and all criminals, who, be assured, were right on their toes waiting for the very first opportunity.

So far, the result in Egypt seems to be that neighbors are arming themselves with anything available, and openly showing that they will resist looters. Often these neighbor-police only have sticks to show. Often the criminal element has an illegal gun or two.

None of which is any answer to whether the situation would be improved by better gun control, or everyone being armed. It's just worth knowing; seeing; you could find yourself in this situation; anywhere in the world.

That's reality.

And it's not easy to come up with pat answers and positions. I'm on the fence myself. We own guns, being way out in the country, and using them for hunting sometimes. At the same time, I think there is some point to trying to decrease the number of guns floating around in cities; and I am fiercely opposed to the idiotic new ruling here in the US allowing people to carry concealed weapons in our National Parks. The Park reality includes the fact that they do have a highly trusted police, who can keep those places as safe as the world is ever likely to be anywhere. We should keep it that way. (rant, rant.)

All of this, and similar stuff, adds up to a response to your question, Steve- likely the only one you'll ever be able to find.

Does our so-promising species have any chance at a future?

Reality:

There are quite a few of us species members who are going to fight for some kind of future, until we die, no matter what.

We already are.

The real world sucks. It always has; read Charles Dickens if you doubt it.

Incredibly bad things happen. Horrors happen. More of them are ahead of us.

But in all the past horrors, some of our species have struggled to make things better, just a little, whenever possible.

It can be crippling to look at our real world and bemoan what it is not. We could be so much more; so much better. You can freeze yourself into immobile depression by contemplating too long what we don't do.

Better, I think, to just keep in mind: It's a Real, Real, World.

One good response that can help keep you sane; find your iceberg, and push on it.

Talking About Hunger in the USA-

One of the things I admire about both Crunchy Chicken and Sharon Astyk is that they fearlessly charge into discussions that are bound to become difficult and rancorous. Lots of things just plain need to be talked about; regardless of hurt feelings. So they do.

I'm about to do that too. However, I want to start with a disclaimer: I'm not judging anybody here. I'm really not. But we have a problem no one is facing, and we need to face it.

In the last couple weeks Hunger In the USA has gotten a lot of attention, and rightly so. One of the nifty little facts that came out in the NYT was that currently 1/8 of adults are getting food paid for by the government, via what used to be called "the food stamp program"; and 1/4 of our children.

That shocked a lot of people. In truth, I'm pretty angry that people were shocked. We should have been horrified- and aware and doing something about it long before it got to this point. Once again, I'm embarrassed to be a citizen of this country. We let 1/4 of our children grow up in such poverty? Unforgivable. Not a word I use at all lightly.

At the time, Sharon put up a post on the topic; and my comment on it was the second one. My topic here is a little different.

There, I pointed out that quite a few people who are actually hungry- are in situations where their parents or caretakers truly just do not know how to feed them.

What I want to say here - non-judgmentally, remember! - is that many who believe they are hungry- are not. They do not know what real hunger is; in spite of those ubiquitous advertisements with skeletal children in them.

Today the Washington Post has chimed in; and I think without knowing it, they've hit a nail right on the head. There's both an article, and a rather long photo gallery.

These were the photos that set me off. Neither this woman, nor her child, are actually "hungry", in the sense of not having enough to eat. They certainly may be malnourished- but hungry? No.

I do not, in the least, doubt that the woman believes she and her family are hungry, and that she is frantic about the welfare of her children. I would be willing to bet she's entirely sincere, and in no way a "bad person"- quite the contrary. But her problem has been misidentified; and the help being offered her- will not help.

Later in the photo gallery there is another mother- who is skipping meals, so her children can eat. She's skinny. And I'll believe in a second her stomach hurts, and that her children's do too.

There is the crux of why I'm writing about this. One of my myriad ex-girlfriends (ok, 3) fiercely accused me during one of our breakups of being a "problem solver"; a great sin for someone who didn't want her problems solved, she just wanted me to listen to them. (Evidently this is a fairly common source of friction between males and females, but I REALLY don't want to talk about it.)

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima etc. Loathsome as it may be, I really do prefer to come out the other side of a difficulty in an improved state, if possible.

Hunger in the world is actually a major focus of my life. To hear that one out of every four children in my country requires help from outside the family in order to not be hungry sets me going. Big time.

A tried and true way to fail at problem solving is to apply the wrong solution to a problem. For example, like trying to fix a flat tire with a wad of bubble gum. Looks kinda like it might work, if we're lucky. But in fact, it's just truly dumb.

I think we have abundant proof available that we're applying bubble gum to our hungry populace. It isn't going to help; which is by far my biggest objection; and it's insanely expensive, in a time when the country doesn't have a dime to spare. The money could and should be spent so that the recipients of the aid actually get help for their problem.

Problems come in layers, more often than not. The next layer to this particular one is that we know many people on food stamps are not actually hungry- but we don't want to deal with what's really going on. It's embarrassing, from all directions. So, rather than cause some forced blushing- we continue as a nation to pretend: lack of food is the problem; and money is the answer.

Very simply- lack of food is NOT the problem; and money is NOT the answer. Can't get much simpler than that.

The problem is- we refuse to talk about, or deal with, the problem.

If you haven't read the Washington Post article, now would be a good time. Surprise! They actually talk about all this.

I was delighted to discover that; and that others are struggling with it.

Now what?

Once you've discovered your solution to a problem isn't a solution; and the problem isn't what you thought it was - you must, must, must - throw everything out and start over.

What we're doing right now, to continue the flat tire simile, is "hey, maybe if we got the gum hotter, it would work." "hey, maybe if we mixed the gum with gasoline, it would work" "hey, maybe if we put sand in the gum, it would work." "hey, mixing the gum with gasoline almost worked, let's try mixing it with brake fluid instead."

It's painful to throw out a "solution" that you're so deeply invested in. But anything else is almost certain to just add to the "fixing the fix" cycle.

A black hole for the people; and the money.

Norman Borlaug.

I left a comment on the NYT article on Borlaug's passing. Here it is:

The one time I met Dr. Borlaug, I made a complete fool of myself. We'll pass over how.

He was very gracious about it. There was nothing in the least pretentious about the man. But it was awe-ful to be in the same room with him. A large part of that was his complete accessibility. He would listen to you- no matter who you were. Which is the mark of a true scholar.

As an ecologist, I'm quite aware of the shortcomings of the Green Revolution.

He was, too. And it hurt him to have to cope with the sometimes sharp and unfeeling criticisms.

His motivation was simple. And pure. When people are hungry- you feed them. Gandhi had the same thought.

He fed them. Yes, it wasn't perfect, and he knew it. He bought us time; only that, and he knew it. In part, he figured he'd done his part- and now it was up to someone else to take the next steps.

That would be you. And me.

We miss you already. And will for a long time to come.

Norm was a man.

It's too easy to forget that about towering figures, and he was one.

Yes, I know I know I know; many aspects of The Green Revolution have not worked out well, or to the benefit of the common people.

But that truly was not Norm's fault. He was not a great philosopher; not a politician, though he tried consistently to use the weight of the Nobel Peace Prize as a bludgeon on the World Bank officials and other politicians he had to deal with. It wasn't his skill.

His skill was understanding crops, deeply. And need.

Could you stand and see a starving child- with food in your pocket- and not feed the child?

If your answer is yes- either you have never actually been in the presence of utter poverty; or you are subhuman.

Norm saw the poverty- and injustice, and all the rest that goes with living at the bottom of the human pile. His skill was plants. So he gave his life to working for the poor, primarily in that way.

Others saw ways to profit from his work, and often heartlessly derailed it. He hated that; but the starving, dying children still faced him. He never could do nothing.

Down deep, I think he expected others to give as he did; everything, their lives; to deal with the other aspects of the problem of too many people on one limited planet.

He was a farm kid from Iowa. Just a man. Not perfect; but he tried, with everything he had in him.

After I'd made a fool of myself, we eventually found ourselves alone together; for about 4 minutes. We talked about what was next on his schedule; he had rushed to get to the meeting we were at, and had to rush off to another. And another.

(Ok, that was how I made a fool of myself. I had to introduce him to the meeting. And I bungled it, because I was so nervous.)

I said; "They don't really give you much time to sit down, do they?"

"No, they don't." And more slowly again, "No, they don't."

We looked at each other, and he told me silently that he missed his family, and the time to savor life a bit.

Then he pulled himself back up, and went off to the next battle.

People will argue forever, I think, about whether his work alleviated human suffering, or created more.

I can't say. Philosophically, how can you say that it would be better if Person X had simply never existed? Very easy, in the abstract- but could you stand next to X, look him/her in the eyes, and think so?

He knew a simple thing that an astonishing number of humans never learn; people do not exist in the abstract. Each one is real, with pains, hopes, fears, despairs- exactly like your own.

He worked among the people, and knew them, face to face. He could not say; "No, you must not have any children. The world has no room for you."

He thought that decision was not his to make. Perhaps one of those whose lives he saved would in turn hold the answers for what happens next. We can't know.

What we can know is that here was a man who fought with everything he had; every day of his life- for the people of the world- all of them; every last one.

Is there more a person can do?

And now for something completely different...

Interesting times.

In case you haven't seen this, it's worth a look.  The NYT was running an "emotions" graphic, during the vote count last night, and up until 1 AM ET, I think.

It's different, and pretty interesting.

You need to click on each of the three categories in the upper right; "Everyone" "McCain Supporters", and "Obama Supporters."

This was generated by votes.  Anyone coming onto the site was invited to pick a word- one already floating, or type in any new one.  And you could vote for another word once an hour.  I voted twice.

Kind of cool.  Flip through them- then flip back to the summary - "Everyone".

Who knows, maybe we'll make it.

Life is sweet.

Yes, it is.

In spite of all the hyper-abundant crap we carp about constantly.

We actually had frost last night- not a killing freeze, but very light.  Leading to a brilliant, crisp Autumn morning for Smidgen's first day of - pre-school.

Spice and I and Beelar, her big brother, walked her out through the apples to meet the neighbor who's sharing driving chores with us.

So, I got to wake up early; make some hot coffee on our woodstove, which kept us warm all night, burning wood from trees I planted myself (with Beelar's help) - then walk out, through apple trees (which I planted and grafted 25 years ago) drooping with fruit in spite of no real rain since June- (really) and watch two of my children together, taking a big step forward -

Spice went along with the neighbor, who has twins; and brought back this pic of Smidgen feeling her way into school- first day, first moments- with "her" twins on either side.

Worth a lot.  Worth remembering, that the good times, the good things, are still there; even when the worries and bad stuff keeps piling up.

Happy Autumn out there.

The water is back.

When we bought this farm- 160 acres- it had a "rough corner" - a steep rocky ravine, with a dry bottom.  About 40 acres of forest there, some good timber, but this bit is not even close to being tillable.  Brought the over-all price of the land down a little.

No water in the bottom, although just over the fence with the neighbor to the south, there is a spring that runs all year, most years; have only seen it stop running once, I think.

The ravine, which we call "the valley", looks like it might well have once had a full time stream running in it.  Typically, around here, when the original lands went under the plow, the water table dropped, and some streams went dry.

I've hoped, year after year, that what we were doing here might bring the water back.  Year after year- dry.

But.  This year: 

We have water.  And not just a little- there are seeps feeding this flow all the way through our land- ending, in fact, exactly at the fence with the neighbor to the north.  It's about a quarter mile of spring and seep fed creek, that wasn't there before.  (You can hear a chickadee singing "spring-soon" early on, and then a wild  jungle-bird call, quite loud.  It's not fake- it's one of our pileated woodpeckers; just lucky to catch it.)

This is a lot of water, up from nothing.  It's crystal clear- unless we've had heavy rain, then we get run-off from the neighbors' fields, and it's muddy as can be, until the next day.  There are green mosses and algae living in the clear water- making oxygen.

It's been 30 some years.  For me, this is crazy exciting.  And satisfying.  I think, maybe, we've brought something back, that was supposed to be here.  Is water important?  What a question.

Now the stream runs, and even babbles.  Middle Child says he can hear it, from the house, if the wind is still.  He says it really changes the feel of the valley.  I knew it would.  Running water hits the human heart, and hind-brain, directly.

I can't hear it; unless I'm close.  Too much time with tractors and chainsaws.  (Yes, I ALWAYS had ear protection of some kind- except once, helping out a neighbor... I don't think the standard ear muffs do enough, over time.  Now I wear ear plugs AND muffs.)  Yeah, that makes me a little sad, but seeing the clear clean water, and having it there for my kids, makes up for it.

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When we bought the farm, it had been managed in the locally normal fashion, since about 1845.  Three quarters of the land had been cleared and plowed.  About 1/4 of it had been savannah grass, that was all plowed.   Most of it was really too steep to be plowed, but it was anyway; these days 3/4 of the tilled land is technically classified as "highly erodible".  There had been cows, too; the forest had been grazed periodically, though luckily about every other owner had NOT put cows in the woods, so it wasn't totally degraded.  We had much better wildflower populations than usual.

But the land had been used very hard; there were several places where clearly it had been plowed at one time, but erosion gullies had cut so deeply that a tractor could turn over in them.  Now these places were pasture.  Before we bought the land, a soil survey done in 1956 said there were between 12" and 18" of dark topsoil on the north hill- in corn and hay strips.  In 1976- we found between 0" and 6".  A foot of soil was gone, in just 20 years.

The farm is hilly, and the soil is light, a "loess" type, technically silt-loam.  Good soil.  The truth is, most farms in the US have been used this badly, at some point.  Many, many still are.  Even good farmers are pushed by many forces to cut corners, get higher yields, more acres plowed- a few more dollars for the bank.  As long as you use a plow, the process only moves in one direction.  You will lose the soil.  I didn't like that.

How I got to that place, philosophically, is another long story; perhaps another time.  Right now, I just want to describe the directions we took.  Much of this was not fully formulated when we began- we learned as we went.

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Reader RC, in comments on the previous post, was kind of demanding an exegesis (careful, your academia is showing!) of my claim that the food we produce here is "Not Organic- It's Better!"

It all ties together.  

I wanted to focus on "tree crops", building first of all on J. Russell Smith's book with that title.  Mostly because of erosion here that I felt was really out of control- far beyond "unsustainable", moving towards "desertification", rapidly.  Did you know that there are cities in Italy- which were seaports for the early Roman empire- that are now 50 miles inland?  Plows.  And wheat.  What do they grow on those hills now?  Grapes and olives.

First- get rid of the plow.  Russell Smith documented many aboriginal peoples who harvested their staple foodstuffs from trees.  He, however, was not a biologist- he was a geographer.  I could see opportunities he could not, because of our different perspectives.  So I started focusing of some specific "tree crops", and some specific pathways of my own.

No, it's not "Permaculture®".  I never heard of Bill Mollison until things here were fully developed.  I'm interested in crops- and feeding cities; and I really don't think permaculture is.

Many "horticultural" crops, including apples and grapes, often include the plow still, or at least a periodic disc cultivation of the surface.  We only disturb the soil during the first year of establishment.  Then we have grass, which we manage in a number of ways.  The grass is a problem, more often than not at this point; but we're working on ways to integrate other practices, without going to cultivation.  Cultivation is bad because; it causes erosion, it destroys biodiversity, it costs huge quantities of fossil fuel, it costs money and time- year after year.

Second- No spray.  Ever.  Meaning, no pesticides; no insecticides, no fungicides, no general herbicides.  No toxins.  Not even "organic" ones.  Two exceptions; we use a little fly spray in the greenhouse (the same stuff used in dairies), and we have, in the past, used a little Roundup during year 1 of plant establishment.  But I've almost quit doing that, too; probably will.  Don't need it.  We do, rarely spray a little fertilizer, if the plants are starving.  I don't think the frogs like it though, so we try not to.

I didn't set out to go "no spray"; in fact in the early years, I just took the received wisdom, and used the "at least!" dormant oil spray universally recommended for fruit trees. (Turns out, it's a big mistake; don't do it.)  Little by little, over the years, I've experimented (I did do all that PhD work) - quite formally - and learned; and had a number of wildly useful and illuminating accidents happen.  I'd need a long book to go through them; maybe some day.

It was my new non-horticultural tree crops that taught me that dormant oil is a mistake.   Took about 10 years to figure that out; it was not a snap dogmatic decision, but an insight based on long trained formal observation.  No, it's not published- just haven't had time.

That worked this way: the first time I saw nasty caterpillars eating all the leaves on my young trees- I was outraged, of course, as one is.  MY plants, you vermin leave them alone!  But.  The scientist/ecologist/parasitologist/ethologist in me insisted that I wait, and watch; at least a couple of years.  This is a new planting here; perhaps this caterpillar is exploding just because it has a new food source; and given some time, perhaps a predator, or disease, will catch up with it, and control it without having to resort to poisons.  I was out on new ground, crops no one had grown this way, so there were no experts to tell me otherwise.

So I waited, for several ticks of the annual clock.  You have to give predators and parasites plenty of time to show up- they may be quite rare, and they don't reproduce at the high rates the herbivores do.

Here's the thing.  So far, in 30+ years - 100% of the time; outbreaks of this bug or that- fade.  Typically, in year one of a new bug, it'll look like slaughter, and over and over, I'd think "oh, boy, here it is, I'm finally going to have to spray."  But- scientifically; the only way to know that is to wait, and watch.  And I've had the luxury of being able to do that.  In year 2 - every time- the damage caused by the bug has dropped; away from the "where's my spray gun?" point to at least the "that's ugly- but not killing us" point.  In year 3 - it's less yet.

Every time.

Except once- and that pest was a foreign invader; we just needed some different genetics; it's over, now.

That's a really huge deal, in fact.  The rock bottom dogma of conventional agriculture and horticulture is that you MUST spray, because you're growing these plants in an intensive monoculture, and there is no alternative... oh, wait...

Third.  No monocultures.  All of our plantings have species mingled, a couple rows of this, then 8 rows of that.  We've specifically striven to include diversity in species and genetics and physical structure, just for the sake of the diversity.  More diversity means more critters can live here.  The more species living here, the more stable the entire system is.  That's an ecological dogma.  But humans have never acted like we believe it.

It's true, and it works.

For example; back to dormant oil spray.  The idea there is that you're suffocating the eggs and dormant forms of your pest insects, which overwinter right there on your tree, all ready to start eating come spring.  The scum.  Sounds good, and logical, and the oil is not really even a poison, so why not?  Everybody on the planet says it's a good idea.

I did dormant oil spray on our apples for 10 years, just like everybody.  Then- extrapolating from what I was learning in my other crops- it occurred to me, via my parasitologist/ethologist training.  If you were a pest predator-  where would you lay your eggs?  

In fact, I already knew the answer- they lay them right next to their food source; eggs or dormant bugs- right there on your tree.  We know this.  But we don't act like it.  Spray your dormant oil spray- and it kills off your predatory insects- better than it kills their prey.  Because of relative population numbers and reproductive dynamics- herbivores tend to be abundant and reproduce fast, predators are few, and reproduce slowly; even if they're minute wasps instead of wolves.

The field of agriculture is rife with embedded double-think; and food is so sacred (the staff of life!  the new oil!)  that we never examine basic and hidden assumptions.  All good farmers simultaneously believe, with all their hearts: a) they grow FOOD.  b) the world will starve if they don't produce all they can.  c) farmers never get paid enough for their work- because they over-produce so much it's dirt cheap.

Some of that has changed a little, just recently, but those are all rock solid core beliefs for farmers, any time in the last 50 years.  And, in case you didn't notice- they're contradictory.

So, when my little lightbulb went off, after a mere decade, and I realized I was doing something that I knew did not make rational sense- I quit spraying my apples.  At all.

Gasp!  You can't grow apples without spray!  Everybody knows it!

Well, I do.  Yes- I had to grit my teeth through several bad years, when bugs ate everything.  But- have faith, my children- if you feed them (and don't poison them) they will come.  Predators - birds, frogs, insects, shrews, mice- parasites- bacteria- viruses- oh, my.

Hey, it's an ecosystem.  

If you plow- you can't have one.  You go back to dead sterile soil- and nowhere for the ecosystem to live.  The wasp pupae need a safe, stable place to overwinter, and bare dirt is not it.  We have permanent, deep sod; everywhere between the trees, with many species of plants in it.  And a few pines, in the apples.   Among other things.

If you spray - you can't have one.  No sprays are species specific, the claims notwithstanding.  And in any case; if you wipe out the deer; you also wipe out the wolves.  Guess which comes back first?  Now- we've had multiple visitors, knowledgeable ones, who see our apples (about 60 standard trees) and ask what our spray regimen is.  "No spray."  "Wow!  You mean you're organic!?  I've never seen an organic orchard that looks this good!"  "No- no spray, at all."  ...  "What?" ...

The years do vary- sometimes, one bug or another comes up and is pesky.  Two years ago, the Minjon apples had a bad apple maggot fly problem.  Last year- trivial, really.  Codling moth- there's always a little, but it's no biggie, fairly easy to spot.  And- we have Amish neighbors who are happy to swap us something for the codling moth affected apples- they make great apple butter or sauce, or cider, if you can cut out the bad core; and they have the labor available to do that.

Fourth.  Genetics.  Most of our apples are "heritage"- old cultivars that were developed long before spray was so universal.  They've usually got the genetic tools they need to respond to pests.  One of our worst performing apples is "Haralson" - a big commercial favorite here.  Born and raised in the University, released in 1922.  Those were the days of dousing in Bordeaux mix- and lead arsenate sprays.  I kid you not.  Without spray- we get a few to eat once every 6 years, or so.

Finding plants with the appropriate genetics for your land is an absolutely critical part of this.  And it's a long process.  If you've ever bought fruit trees, you know how the catalogs read: "Absolutely hardy; huge crops of delicious juicy peaches, every year!"   The only words in that sentence that are not a big fat lie are "of", "peaches", and "year".   And "peaches" is questionable.

Basic hint- the cost of the trees, at planting, is the tiniest part of the investment you will make in a good food tree.  Plant lots- plant them thick; let nature sort them out.

Fifth.  Fertilizer.  You have to feed your plants, one way or another.  The organic movement decided that chemical fertilizer is evil, bad for water, bad for worms, etc.  Yup, if you're putting it on bare soil, that's likely true.  If you're spreading modest amounts on top of permanent sod- getting to the trees, we hope, by timing the season right- or waiting (both work)- it's just not the same thing.  Most of the fertilizer used in farming is applied to naked soil- when the target crop has no roots to speak of.  It rains- it runs off into the Gulf of Mexico.  When we spread fertilizer, it falls on grass sod that has roots 2' deep; or trees that have roots 12' deep.  None of it ever gets away; we've tested.

Plain N-P-K fertilizer is an over-simplification of what plants need, of course.  But ours also get a steady rain of bird manure, from residents, and migrants; deer, raccoon, and whatsit manure galore- and- spider poo.  You'd be surprised at how much poo spiders put out.  If they're not dead, and there are bugs to eat.  We keep testing for micronutrient deficiencies, to keep track; so far haven't really got any, so far as we can tell.

And, as it turns out- well fed plants just kick off pests.  It's when they're starving that they get sick.

Sixth.  Tweak, don't Demand.  Way back there, I considered talking about "Pestapo" style agriculture.  Eradicate everything.  And contrasting it with my own "Tweakology".

But I decided that was just a bit too cutsey.  It does illustrate a basic attitude, though; pest "control" is not something we do- we do a little pest management.  But you will always have some pests, and pest damage...

And you WANT to.  If you have no prey- you will have no predators.  That's a setup for an epidemic outbreak.  Cheaper, easier, to tolerate low pests, and work around them.

Example: mice.  Mice are a big problem in some tree plantings; they can eat the bark and roots in winter, killing even big trees in bad years.  Lots of orchards put out mouse poison, on a schedule.  We do two things; we mow the grass down tight to the ground before the snow comes, and put up  "hawk-roosts"; big poles put up in the right places to attract hawks and owls.  It works.  We have mice.  We also have a resident pair of red-tailed hawks, who raise their brood feeding them mice, out of our plantings, every year.  Plus tons of owls, who take over the night shift.

We try to nudge a pest in the direction we want; never shoot for eradication.  That kind of total control is a trap; you'll have to do it forever, because, of course- you've also eliminated ALL the natural antagonists to the pest you're controlling.  There are dozens, at least- probably hundreds - (how many diseases do people get?) but if they have no place to live, they're gone.  Clean slate- ready for the pest to explode next season- unopposed.

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Ok, better stop, before you all fall asleep.  RC- our stuff is better than organic because it comes from highly biodiverse permanent plantings- no plow, no toxins.  And full of frogs (one spray of rotenone will wipe yours out for good) and bird nests.  Eco-system based pest management.

So far, for us it's working.  Which doesn't mean there won't be bumps.  Grit your teeth.

The water in the valley- is crystal clear, but may well have some chemicals in it from all the years this land was "conventional".  Atrazine, maybe.  But for years now, all the water soaking into the ground has been free of toxins.  That's hopeful.

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Haven't forgotten the hunger issue, but we all need a break.  There IS some progress; more are becoming aware- and some of it is as likely due to the noise we're making as anything.  Take a look at the articles and links here.  More before long.

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.

there and back again.

Ok, so she wasn't generating chaos ALL the time.  Smidgen's hair got just long enough to gather into a ponytail a few days before the trip.



There is just something about a sleeping baby that is irresistible. I've got zillions of pics like this; of all 3 kids. Alas, the first 2 are on film, not digital.

But, I can catch them now.  Beelar came along on this trip, thank goodness; and cheerfully carried his little sister- more than I did, I confess.  She seems pretty content.

Then we got home- to this.

Yeeha.  This was the in-out thermometer this morning; 42°F INSIDE; -18° below Zero Outside (-28°C).

Looks like getting colder tonight.  In light of all the interest in our potty habits, I'm thinking of doing a detailed post on how, exactly, one uses an outhouse in really chilly weather...  :-)

  Crunchy has this ongoing thing about freezing one's behind off... and I now have a rep to maintain for advanced nuttiness, thanks to her...

:-)

The turn of the year

There's a special autumn event I look for every year. It doesn't have a name.

Actually, I've never met anyone else who has seen it, or heard of it. A fact that makes me think, and wonder if that should worry me. Us.

It's quite a spectacular thing, when it happens. Spectacular as it is, though, it goes unnoticed; partly because at the best, it can only last for a half an hour. No more. And it doesn't happen every year, either.

It used to happen most years, at least in part. Now it happens less. That worries me, too.

In a good year- meaning one with good rainfalls, good growing weather- we go into autumn with the trees having their year's work fully completed. The leaves are drying, getting ready to drop; all the nutrients that can be recovered already pulled back into the tree for storage. That's what the fall colors are about, of course, the leaf machinery has been shut down; the nutrients sent back for recycling.

Several species of trees, particularly those with "compound" leaves; walnuts, hickories, ashes- often reach a state where few leaves have fallen yet, color is rather minimal, yet the leaves are finished, and the "abscission layer", the exact area where the leaf is attached to the tree, is fully mature; the leaf is separated, but still, just, hanging on because of a little residual "glue". A compound leaf, you understand, is one that has a central rib with maybe 5 to 9, or more, leaflets on it. It's really one leaf, cut up by nature; and the whole thing is shed when it's time.

Then comes the first frost.

Here, that almost always means a day when a fierce blustery cold front has been moving in, rattling branches, leaves, and teeth, all day. Like magic - year after year- the wind dies to dead calm exactly as the sun goes down; leaving the crystal blue autumn sky fading through all possible blues to black. The stars appear, almost unblinking in the winter-like clarity; the wind stays still; and we know, going to bed, that there will be frost tonight. We usually don't light the woodstove, but just put on sweaters and extra blankets; we know the heat of "Indian summer" will certainly follow this day or two of winter previews.

I make it a point to be up before dawn on these days, because of what happens when the rising sun just touches the treetops, instantly melting the frost that's grown slowly all night long. The frost in the abscission layer; in-between the leaves and the branches. Millions of leaves are now attached to their parents not by glue, or tissue; but only by a tiny thin layer of lacy ice...

You have to be IN the woods to see this. And you have to be up before the sun. And you have to watch every year; because sometimes- it doesn't happen at all.

The air, typically, is still dead calm. The stars are starting to fade as the sun, still below the horizon, brightens the eastern sky. No red in the sky- no clouds to make it. The coffee in my hand is hot; and welcome because it's cold, since I've stubbornly refused to light the fire. The sky gets steadily brighter.

Then- the sun touches the highest leaves.

Nothing happens. Well, the ice has to melt, you know; it doesn't happen instantly. How cold is it? 33°? Should melt fast. The leaves get colder than the air, as they radiate their heat to the black cold of space. This is true- the air temperature can be 35°, even; and if the air is still and the sky clear- it will frost. Or is it colder? 26°? It will take longer to melt if it's cold.

Will it happen? Or is this not the right year?

Then- in the right year- from the very top of the tallest ash tree- an entire compound leaf detaches; in the totally still air- and drops. Sails, is more like it. They can float down like kites with broken strings, shifting, drifting, changing directions- and bumping other leaves. Then another. And another.

The sun only moves up; the warmth only increases, the ice melts faster, the leaves let loose in great shoals, schools, flocks.

Sifting down through the branches; knocking some non-participant maple and elm leaves off, too.

All in total silence; no wind, no sound. Except the sighs of the descending leaves. In my memory, even the birds are silenced by this astonishing forest-wide event. Everything stops to watch. And the whole woods whispers.

For perhaps a half an hour, the sky rains leaves. Quietly, with only the occasional drip of melted frost to accompany the swish of the sailing leaves. What happens when some compound leaf loses a leaflet or two on one side? Unbalanced, they twirl, and swirl, and... well, dance is the only word. Each an individual; a sky full of brilliant, flashing, variations.

Walking in it is transfiguring. Walking through it with a loved one- moreso. Walking through it with a small child- neither you, nor they, will ever forget.

It's a throat-hurtingly beautiful thing; a rite of change I've shared with my loved ones whenever I could. This is IT; the exact instant of change, from summer to fall- the world has turned, successfully, once more. That "successfully" bit is not a given, you know.

I hope you can see it; a little, here. And I really hope you have the chance to see the .. hm. The Last Dance? in real life, someday. It's not easy to do; you can't sell tickets to the leaf peepers, the actual event is far too unpredictable. If you don't actively seek it out, you'll never see it. I'm sure ash trees in cities do drop their leaves this way sometimes- but it's not the same as walking through a forest, where it's all happening at once.

It didn't happen, this year. We got the frost; and the clear clear night; but the trees were oddly on both sides of the equation; the walnuts had all dropped their leaves weeks ago, when drought turned to flood. And the ashes. But hickories, strangely, are still brightly green. Even if the hickories decide to drop at a later frost, the "whole forest" thing can't happen. Of course, I'd been looking forward to showing the Smidgen. Watching her watch with her wide, wide "2 anna HALF" year eyes. Chasing leaves. Seeing the world turn.

Not this year. I'm not greatly disappointed- I'm pretty sure there will be other times. But I do wonder, and worry. When I first lived here, this was something that happened pretty reliably, 2 years out of 3. But in the last 10 years- it's only happened twice, I think. Too many climate signals drifting away from their original settings? It's not just me, the real old-timers here notice the changes, too.

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

One of the points this leaves me pondering is- how much of our world do we miss- or misunderstand- because critical pieces of it simply go unseen?

Any student of human behavior will tell you that humans mostly see what we expect to see; what we're taught to see.

I don't know anyone else who's ever seen, or noticed, this Last Dance; spectacular as it is. I HAVE had a couple visitors who were here during one- and still didn't SEE it, until I pointed it out.

I doubt the Last Dance has any particular environmental significance, on its own; but-

What else, on this earth, have we just never seen? Never noticed? We humans are so short lived, really- and so self occupied. And still we assume, even the most careful of us, that we have a reasonably good idea how "things" work here.

I have my doubts. And some evidence. And how do we learn; and how do we teach- how to open our eyes?

It's important.

Getting Them Involved

I started answering Caroline's very nice comment on the previous post; it got longer; and longer- so I finally realized it would be best dealt with here.

She said; "I don't know how we're going to teach our kids to see those limits other than by living in a way that shows sensitivity to the fact that there isn't infinite amounts of anything."

Teach the kids. That's absolutely one of the most important things we need to focus on. There's an awful lot of older folks who will never learn; never understand, never change. It's the kids.

And thinking about "how", and how this can relate to the real world (ie. NOT little houses in the woods, but Little Tiny Apartments In The Incredibly Huge City) - I found myself starting to tell this story. It does turn out relevant, I think.

Aeons ago, my son Beelar was asked as a school exercise to "write down your favorite food recipe". This had to be 3rd grade, I think. An assignment teaching both handwriting, and the beginnings of composition, and story telling.

We got called in to talk to the Principal about it. No, really- the teachers were in an uproar about his recipe/essay.

Man, I wish I had a copy of it- but it happened back before computers. Paper disappears; if it's in the computer, I can find it.

He chose "Spaghetti" as his recipe. Ok, how weird can that be? Then he started off: "First, you plant the tomatoes..."

You have to understand, he was UTTERLY serious; not a bit of smart mouth going on. This was his answer- this is how you make spaghetti.

The part that really freaked the teachers out though, was when he got to "Then, you add some ground Bambi..."

Ok, now THAT was smartmouthing; he knew that "regular folks" don't talk about ground venison that way. But WE did. Not in any attempt to be callous- we still loved the lovable parts of the movie; and deer- but in an attempt to be HONEST about what we were doing. We're eating deer. Right here, in the spaghetti; not hiding the fact from the kids. You have to shoot the deer- and gut it, and butcher it, and store it- to get this. All wrapped up in that wiseacre "ground Bambi".

The teachers really didn't know what to make of this; was our child being warped? Abused? What the heck?

We managed to convince them the boy was not in danger; and not really warped- just with a different viewpoint; but it took some fancy dancing, and put us on the FBI's permanent "Watch" list, I think.

He KNEW what goes into spaghetti. You plant tomatoes; and weed them; and can them; and you kill animals; and butcher them. He knew because he'd seen it; and helped do it. I really don't think he can see a can of tomatoes on the shelf at Walmart without seeing also.... the tomato plant- in Florida- the can, on a truck... etc. Likewise with the package of hamburger.

He knows.

How is this relevant to the City? I'm not suggesting you should go out and shoot pigeons, or squirrels, for your soup- just a bit impractical, never mind the legalities.

But even in the City- you have a windowsill. It can grow SOME of what goes in to your food. One pepper plant? One tomato plant? A pot of sage, thyme, oregano- chives?

Each child can have their own- it's their job to care for it, water it, grow it, harvest it- add it to the ... pizza. You can have a special meal where most of ingredients come from the window; and the family shares- harvest; cooking, sharing.

They'll start to get the idea. Wow; just growing the peppers was a LOT of work. Hm... You can nudge them into understanding a little more.

Of course, in the burbs, it's easier. 10 tomato plants- and canning the crop. You DON'T have to do industrial quantities. What you DO want to do is get the kids INVOLVED - on a comfortable level. Actually, my own father having grown up on a truck farm, he always planted vast food gardens, and dragooned the kids into "working" in them. I hated it. He was astonished when I started planting my own; me too. I think it's possible to get kids involved without making it into something to be avoided.

This kind of thing can be done in school, too; get the 4th grade to grow their own spaghetti/pizza/soup. (I think we can let them buy the pasta, or flour, don't you? Maybe the High School kids can mill their own flour...)

It's an old situation; and an old answer. Look in Laura Ingalls Wilder's book "Farmer Boy". Chapter 16, "Independence Day". Almanzo asks his father for a nickel (5¢) - because the other boys dare him to- they don't think his father will, since boys rarely had money at all. His father is talking to an adult friend- they're amazed at this forward child. "What for?" his father says. Almanzo stutters out a story about needing to buy lemonade... Father is not dumb, and sees more of what's really going on. He pulls out - not a nickel; but a half dollar; 50¢; ten times as much. Then he makes Almanzo answer a long series of questions- for the benefit of the adult friend. "You know how to grow potatoes, son? What do you do first?" Almanzo knows; he's been helping grow potatoes since forever, and he actually loves it. It takes all year- including storage, selecting/preparing the seed; plowing, planting, weeding, digging, sorting, hauling, back to storing- the selling- and what is a bushel of potatoes worth? Hauled in to town? Half a dollar. Father gives Almanzo the entire 50¢, to do with as he likes. As long as he understands- all the work, the whole year long, that went into a bushel of potatoes, is in that half dollar.

Almanzo gets it.

But only because- he knows what good work is; and what it's worth.

There is a connection between understanding work, and understanding limits. If what you have is the result of your own work- it IS limited. You can't work to an infinite extent- it will kill you to try. Eventually the connection comes- no one else can work "infinitely" either. Everything has limits- you can know this in your bones.

But not if all you've ever done is plug in a toy.

We CAN give that comprehension to our kids; but in this world, you have to make the effort to give it to them. Otherwise, it's TV and video. And if you haven't seen No Impact Man's post today, that's where you should go next, because he clearly "gets it."

The Entire Planet Picnic-Week Plan.

Judging from the underwhelming response here, there are quite a few folks with doubts about the name, at least, for an "Earth-Lent". Here is the original conversation Crunchikini and I had-

Crunchy- "Eco or Earth Lent - Personally, I would really want to leave out any religious reference. First, Lent is heavily tied to the Christian religion(s)  and to those who know even the slightest about it (and let me tell you I've have had multiple conversations recently with people asking, "what is Lent about again" and we all went to Catholic school for 10 years) it generally means some sort of deprivation and/or penance. Which doesn't scream fun to me."

Greenpa- "I thought about that. I'm a non-catholic school person- and actually, the primary meaning of Lent to me is Mardi Gras, and sales on seafood. Really. Us outsiders never notice any deprivation going on- just the occasional whine, which really seems recreational mostly "oh, god, I've given up chocolate for Lent" - quite amusing, from the outside.

You do have a point, however. I wonder if the Pope might sue- "hey we own Lent, you can't have it." which would be great publicity. I'm SURE some people would be quite put off/out- but I'll guarantee you that will be the case regardless.

One of my thoughts was - religions are historically one of the great agents of change- it might be smart to adopt some of their features."

Something to remember- no matter what we choose, some cranks will be offended. So that should not be a huge factor, though we don't want to SET OUT to turn people off.

We might worry about names later; I'm not going to insist on Lent, that's for sure. Kinda like Planet Picnic, at the moment; not much baggage there, and has the connotation of an open event.

Here, as lucidly as I can, is how this could work. A lot of the "why" is in the previous two posts.

We need many many more people to be making individual choices that help the planet. It's difficult for them to get started, as we know. A one week community type event would really help- no long term commitment implied; and lots of company suffering at the same time.

I like the idea of folks setting up/hosting a community "Planet Picnic" - on the Summer Solstice. It's a day when Earth is really DOING something; and nobody else owns it at the moment. (Yes, I know the Druids still observe it, but they're not opposed to others noticing, too.)

1) Pick a park that folks can get to without driving too far- would be lovely if folks could bike or walk; BUT-

To the extent there are any "rules" here, I really think #1 should be - "No Preaching"; and #2 should be "No Excluding Anybody". If somebody really wants to come; and they have to drive 10 miles to get to one, they sure as heck shouldn't have to worry about some fanatic chewing them out for using a car.

2) YOU could host one- all by yourself. But this is intended to help the community along too- you might want to share the hosting. Is there a local group you could convince? Audubon? Sierra Club? Or, just call a friend. "Hey, let's do this! It's a picnic!"

3) Once you know where it's going to be- get the word out. A little, anyway. You might call the papers- or not, depending on where you want to aim. You can make this very laid back- just you and a couple of friends- or you could shoot for a couple hundred folks- your call. My own solstice event grew over the years; now folks look forward to it (though they always have to be reminded...) and come back year after year. As Alison clearly understands, this can be a good long term approach.

4) When you have a core group- PLEASE stretch out. Ask a neighbor- specifically one who does not normally take part in this kind of thing. It's a picnic for neighbors- they'll feel a little bad if they turn you down (and that's good). Just don't make a big deal about the greeny stuff. "Hey, we're having a picnic! Yeah, it's part of that Planet Picnic thing- but that's not a big deal- I'd just like you to come; we don't see you enough." Nothing works as well as a personal touch- catch them somewhere; or a phone call - answering machines are not as good.

5) Make sure folks are clear on where; and when. When can be pretty open, but telling folks "oh, anytime" is likely to make them forget. "Folks start to show up around 6- most a bit later; lots of folks stay past midnight..."

6) Make some specific arrangements for food. No picnic works without food. This could easily grow into a huge "pot-luck" affair- but particularly the first few times, the organizers need to be SURE there are good marshmallows- and sticks - and a fire. Eventually folks could bring a sample of their favorite "green" food- of whatever kind. But no exclusions.

7) Don't forget the world is not a safe place. And you want this picnic to BE safe. Be sure you've got enough folks to handle any obnoxious types that show up- if the local cops can come; fantastic. Be careful about drinking- etc. Just try to get folks to understand, at every stage- "This is a G-Rated Event- we've got little kids, babies, pregnant women - so just be cool, man." I've never actually had a problem of any kind; but somebody will. Let the cops know it's going on regardless; ask them to check in. You may need legal permits, in some places, remember.

8) People need things to sit on- blankets for the young, chairs for the geezers.
9) People need toilets- they ain't staying long if their innards are in pain.

10) Arrange some kind of activities. I listed a bunch in the previous posts. Here's the original conversation with Deenykini-


Crunchy - "The one last question I have, is what did you envision would occur for this no hair-shirt party? I think you'd want some sort of activities or recommended activities for people to get involved in."

Greenpa- " Dancing in the moonlight- homemade music- toasted marshmallows, hide and seek; "Statues" there's a whole children's culture of after dark games that have almost disappeared. Storytelling; ghost stories.

- summer solstice is the longest day of the year; the shortest night- should have the parties in places where there are NO artificial lights, maybe just candles and a small wood fire for the weenies (hey, nobody's taking my weenies.). Some youngsters make it a point to stay up all night; watch the sunrise on the other side of the year.

I've done basically this for 15 years; and people love it. Of course- not to hide anything- the big feature for that event for me is a HUGE bonfire. I've got a vast amount of "waste wood" that comes out of my operation, and I NEED to get rid of it (or it will rot and go to methane; can't have that) - so we revived the old solstice bonfire. That might be tricky to recommend; though it can be appropriate in some places. It's a very ancient and primal celebration. People come 150 miles for ours.

We could build a NEW holiday - specifically NON- denominational, but which in fact borrows from EVERY religion we can think of. The solstice of course is universal religion- far predating the Book. The Big Party, likewise. We could borrow from the Hindu festival of lights(?) I'm not at all sure I've got that right- but they have this festival where they throw dye all over each other- blue- GREEN - yellow, etc. Could be a harmless hoot, I think- kids would totally love it. And anything else anyone can think of . A Universal Earth holiday."

Squirt-gun tag? Kites, definitely. Do you know someone in the community who's fond of some lawn game? Invite them; get them to teach. Volleyball.

Home-made music is fantastic. Sing really dumb old campfire songs (I wish I was a fishy in a bowl...) Let the kids run. And shout.

You won't have to force it. You know what good folks do when they're sitting around and nobody's shoving them to do stuff? They talk. Assuming they can hear each other. No loud music, I think; either canned or over loudspeakers. I leave those places, myself.

11) A bunch of folks will want to help clean up- let them. Have somebody in charge, though, and make sure it's cleaned up.

12) Holler "See you next year!" to everyone as they leave.

13) Follow through with the next week- give something up, Lent fashion. It's just a one week commitment- everybody CAN do it. The folks who come to the party will either DO it, or THINK about it, all week. Invite them one and all to call you and check on how you're doing- with no car, or no refrigerator, or whatever.

14) DO write it up for the local papers afterwards. And publish the plans for next year; right away.

Ok. There's my thinking. Also in the previous two posts. There's supposed to be a poll at the end of this week, hosted on Crunchy Chiquita - not that we have to choose "either- or", really- but to get an idea of which kind of event folks think will get the best participation- and have the best effects.