Nature, Harmony, and When There's None

Bleak. Stark. Still. We'd heard the stories and should've known, what with For Sale signs declaring the area's decline, that our drive through the towns of the Lower Murray would dampen the mood of our day.

Imagine you've based your life on a river. You fish for food and profit, you provide riverboats and tours for visitors. You do what your parents did, and their parents. You farm, live, exist on the river. Now, imagine a course of five years when the rains stop falling, irrigation channels are built, and the water slowly drains from your town like someone pulled the plug from the tub. This is what has happened in South Australian towns like Goolwa and the island of Hindmarsh.

A mixture of epic drought and urban water use has left the lower Murray, nearest it's mouth, with nothing but a small trickle of water. Boats sit neglected, run aground for more than a year, and tourism-centered main streets are left quiet, vacant.

I'd heard of this situation countless times on the news as some river-dwellers lobby for an injection of sea water into their basin, just to get the fishing boats afloat, and others still fight against the influx to avoid poisoning the fresh and brackish drizzle of water remaining with high-salt oceanic flow. It's another thing, entirely, to see it up close. To walk on what should have been covered three meters deep in brown-green currents.

Thanks to water locks and dams, the middle and upper Murray aren't suffering the same fate. Even other South Aussie spots, such as Renmark, are thriving on deep waters, their businesses taking up the tourist slack from the loss further south. But, as long as other states continue to drain the bulk of flow for their own use, the Murray's end will continue to become little more than a creek.

I wish there was a way, in our own homes, to contribute to the health of the Lower Murray, but it lies in the hands of politicians. This, of course, means it lies in the hands of registered voters. Follow your conscience. Even if you benefit from the re-routing of Murray waters, perhaps you can see clear to helping those who are suffering.

Climate and urban development have not been kind to Australia in the past few years. As I type this, hundreds of people are wading in knee-deep waters just to walk across their living room, submerged in the Queensland floods. Closer to home, tens of thousands of acres of Victorian and New South Wales homes, farms, and bushland are burning. And in our own back yard, there was an unbelievable life toll in the recent heat wave of more than a week above 40 C (104 F).

If the river's cause is not your cup of tea, then see if you can lend a hand to those surviving this impossible time, all during such an impossible economy. If you can't afford a financial donation, people in Victoria, Queensland, South Australia, and New South Wales are in need of many forms of assistance. Old air conditioners for heatwave sufferers, blood donations for fire victims, and gifts of food, clothing, books, and toys for both the flood and fire survivors. Below are a few links I've found of ways to help. If you know of others, please share them in comments.

For those worldwide, keep Australia in your thoughts.

Save the Murray, Red Cross Bushfire Relief Fund, Salvation Army Bushfire and Flood Relief Appeal, South Australian State Emergency Service, SA Drought Link

Amateurish Estimates of Independence

Anyone who's known me for any real length of time knows I have a sick obsession with spreadsheets. I can do anything, anything, given enough time and access to Microsoft Excel. It takes very little to set me off on a tabular tailspin, entering random figures, thoughts, plans, and daydreams into calculable formats.

Today's obsession came in the form of estimating the total amount of food, in kilograms, we consume in an average year with "we" being equal to one young adult male, one semi-young adult female, and one mid-to-large breed dog.

Photo by Farmers Almanac

To the best of my abilities, I listed every major item of food we consume on a regular basis, obviously missing several along the way, but I think most bases were well covered. I then looked up acreage required to fuel our consumption of edibles, added these to the building space necessary to house us and to process all the treats on which we subsist.

Days like these make me wonder if I don't have a touch of the ole' O.C.D.

The totals were mind-boggling. I mean, in theory, I'm aware the average healthy human adult eats round about 1.5-2 kg of food, give or take, each day. But good grief! It's far less an intellectual understanding when you see the actual sums. With a wide margin of error, I'm sure, we eat 1200+ kg of food per year, and drink about 1400 litres of items like soda, coffee, tea, and fruit juice.

Upon seeing those average, yet still startling, numbers, I was prompted to delve deeper into what it would take to feed our small family without commerical assistance. None. No stores. At all. Point of fact...no way could we do it.

Photo by Old Recipe Book

Oh, the space requirements aren't too bad. Around 5-10 acres would provide more than enough space for a couple milking goats, 60+ egg and meat fowl, 2 beef cows, 2 pigs, 3-5 lambs, a decent fishing pond, a honeybee hive or two (Ha! As if I'd raise bees), small fields for oats, wheat, and other grains, a large fruit grove and vegetable patch, and a little place for us to live, as well.

But the time, knowledge, energy, and dedication required to host such a variety of animals, to produce so many things like cheeses, oils, etc...it's all far too much for we two small folk.

Sure, we could go vegan and spare ourselves the hassle with meat, dairy, honey, etc...but that would suck nearly all our personal joy out of eating, so scratch that idea.

Alas, consumers we are and consumers we shall remain. Short of founding a mid-sized commune, I don't really see a way we'll ever reach that level of sustainability and self-sufficiency. Perhaps if we were old school, planning on five children who could each be assigned to various chores--But, we want one, maybe two kids, and enjoy too many things about relative urban life to go so far into the land-life.

Where does that leave us? Right where we started, I think. Trying to grow what we can. Trying to prepare for our few little chickens. Trying to buy local produce, if at all possible. Yeah...trying.

Perhaps this new found knowledge will serve to inform our eating habits. Maybe a few vegetarian meals per week wouldn't kill my carnivorous husband. Perhaps a little less milk in my coffee would do. After all, knowing is half the battle, right?

No Junk Mail

The scene was grim, Tuesday afternoon, as I sorted through the piles of junk mail we'd received in the past three weeks. Piles and heaps and heaps of piles of tree pulp turned into ads promising the best deals on holiday food, toys, roof repairs, and consumer electronics.

Consumer. Consumption. That's the word for it. We are voracious consumers, and no matter how much we avoid playing into the "spend, use, and spend some more" game, it is nearly impossible to avoid. The dictionary defines consumption as, "The act or process of consuming by use, waste, etc.; decay; destruction." I think that says it all, really. We consume, whether we realize it or not. We consume every tree pulled own for the production of the junk mail we then consume again by throwing it out.

In 2004, alone, Australia delivered to homes 8.2 billion pieces of junk mail, with the average household receiving 20 items of unaddressed mail per week and 15% of addressed mail coming from soliciting companies, as well. Keep in mind, the population of Australia is around a mere 20 million.

So, what can be done with all the junk? Some suggest mulching one's plants with the mess. Alas, most of the mail we receive is on glossy paper and uses excessive colored inks, which make them less than beneficial to our garden. I suppose abstract art is an option, but frankly, I don't have the time or urge. And thus, into the recycling bin it goes. All three armloads full.

Photo by Everita

It angers me each time I pull the pages upon pages of nonsense begging for our nonexistent money from our mailbox. Now I am in the process of figuring out how to make it stop. We will be installing the tacky, yet unavoidable, "No Junk Mail" sticker on our letterbox. We will also be registering on the Australian Direct Marketing Association's Do Not Contact list, and e-mailing companies that continue to send soliciations. But this only addresses our unaddressed mail. What can we do to fix the problem on a grander scale?

Perhaps Planet Ark or ACF would be helpful. I don't know. I'm a relative newcomer here, a non-resident, and not eligible to vote, so I feel a bit powerless. I will have to make a real effort to figure this one out.

The Quest for Local Food

Photo by Bishops Adelaide Hills

Yet again, we find our food bill creeping northwards. Ironic, as fuel prices have finally dropped nearer to cheaper oil markets. Still weeks away from any real harvest, and more than a month until we will have our chooks, we again find ourselves struggling to cut back on grocery costs.

One possibility we've been considering for awhile is the purchase of whole or half meat-animals, direct from smaller farms. Ethically, this appeals to my inner hippy, as I'm ever aware of the necessity of a locivorous (see Locavore) diet. Financially, one can't deny the spendthrift lure of discounted bulk products.

Here's the problem: We don't know any farmers!

I did stumble across South Rock Lamb, a Kangaroo Island producers cooperative that delivers (I think) 10 kg cuts of lamb to the Adelaide area once monthly. If the price seems right, we'll be signing on with them for every third month, or so. But, primarily, we prefer beef, fish, and chicken. I'd love to support a local cattle farm, a fish hatchery or fisherman, and certainly would enjoy some free range chicken that isn't corporate-stamped. I just have no idea where to begin.

So, blogaverse, I put the call out. Creep out of your lurky hideyholes and recommend your local farmer, friend, service, or co-op. We'd also be open to dairy producers as well!

Our region is the Fleurieu Peninsula, in South Australia. So, anything from KI, the Riverlands, Adelaide Hills, or Adelaide suburbs would be great. If it's a bit further, we're open to that too—We really just want to cut some cost, and get a bit greener in the cutting.

If you have no suggestions, or are far from our region, how do you keep your grocery bills from skyrocketing in these pricey times?

Free Range Politics

Photo by Marilyn Jane

It'd be difficult to let a day as monumental this pass without comment. But, it's not the presidential election that compels me, today. It's not even the most controversial of the California measures up for vote. It's a lesser-known California proposition that would prevent some of the cruelty heaped onto factory-farmed livestock. So, please join me around my soap-box for awhile, won't you?

Proposition 2, on the California ballot, would require the phase-out of all battery house confinement of egg-layers, tight-box housing of calves (veal), and the use of gestation crates for breeding sows, by 2015.

Basically, this statute would do for production animals what we all do for our own meat and dairy critters in our own backyards. It would allow them to move.

I'm not a vegetarian, and I love cheese to much to go vegan, and I've eaten every type of meat you can imagine. But, I respect animals and the sustinence they provide for our breakfast omelets, and that favorite Sunday roast. Prop 2 would set a precedent for prevention of the cruel housing of these sacrificial beings, and that seems right to me.

As with any measure, there are drawbacks. There will be an initial financial hardship on effected farmers, and it may take time to work around the psychology of often-aggressive pregnant pigs, but we homesteaders and semi-steaders know that there is always a way, if you just look hard enough.

I don't write this to sway votes. Most of you aren't even American, and the California polls close within mere hours. I write this to encourage you to research your local regulations. Should unethical farming be legal in your council, your city, your province or state, please press your leaders to change. Please help provide the grocer-dependent public with ethically produced foods.

Not everyone can have a herd, flock, or drove in their back garden, but everyone should have the peace of mind that their food was produced under less cruel circumstances than currently prevail.

The City Mouse Goes Global

I'm happy to announce that I've become a writer for the quirky eco-news website Environmental Graffiti.

They saw fit to put my latest article, 20 Wonders of the Microscopic World on today's front page! Further down, they've also featured my story, Biofuel Racing Hits Atlanta.

So, for environment related stories with a major sense of off-beat humor, that's the place to be!

Accidentally Green

A lot of people use a lot of things as a measure of personal superiority. Being "greener than thou" is definitely one of these measures.

What you see here are (click on image above for full view) my current estimated personal environmental footprint and (click on image below for full view) my footprint at this time, one year ago. Now, instinct may lead to congratulations for cutting my eco-impact by over two thirds. Hell, in some circles it'd make me eligible for Green Living Poster Child. But that would be a lie. You see, I have become accidentally green.

Until January 2008, as many know, I shared a condo outside Washington, D.C., commuted two hours round-trip every day, drove out to the country nearly every weekend for hikes or markets, used central air and heat, grew no food, bought clothes, shoes, books, and other household items as I liked, and, due to involvement in a trans-world relationship, I undertook over 60 hours of jet travel.

Since the big move to Oz, things have definitely changed. We have a house that's roughly the same size as my old condo, I have no car, I go very few places at all, most produce and meat in stores is locally produced and there are small fruit & veg shops on nearly every corner. We buy next to nothing, recycling is readily available and well utilized, we're growing probably 70% of our produce (though we won't harvest for a few more months), and we have zero plans for major travel for at least another year.

Still want to give a pat on the back? Okay, sure. Give a hug, even. But then ask why. Why is my lifestyle so very different now? Was there a conscious choice involved?

Nope.

I have no car because the one we bought died and we haven't the dough to replace it. I love driving! I could hardly imagine giving that up willingly. I'd nearly kill to have central air and heat once more, though I would be happy to power those with a solar array, but all this house has are three window units and a gas heater, so that's what we use. We go nowhere and buy nothing due to that same lack of cash and my current position as housewife-extraordinaire instead of bad-ass office-jockey. And, well, Australia just has better recycling programs than my old neighborhood. True, we did decide to grow our veggie patch, but had I the space in my old condo I'd have gardened there too. Though, all things equalled, we would dine out a fair bit more than we do (never) now, if the cash flow were prime.

So, the next time you find yourself feeling above the electricity-guzzling, water-wasting, carbon-spewing masses...ask yourself, how much of your Green is accidental? How much of their footprint is beyond their control?

Be green. Better still, be kind.

A waster of water is a waster of better

Photo by Barry Allwright

Dune. Arrakis. Desert Planet.

Not quite—that's a view from the Northern Territory of Oz—but it can often feel that way in my neck of the woods.

In Australia, there is a crude-but-accurate saying that the weather is "drier than a nun's nasty." Okay, so that's really gross, but it sums up just how little rainfall we really get. And I live outside the driest of the dry, when it comes to civilized regions. Sure, the Simpson Desert is definitely hotter and absolutely devoid of all moisture, but that's not terribly suburban.

To make matters worse, we've been in a catastrophic drought for five, going on six, years, and have adopted strict water-use restrictions as simply a part of life.

Average Annual Precipitation
Charlottesville, Virginia: 68.5"/1740mm
Columbus, Georgia: 48.6"/1234mm
Dallas, Texas: 37.0"/940mm
Manchester, UK: 31.8"/807mm
Onkaparinga, South Australia: approx 19.7"/500mm
Phoenix, Arizona: 8.3"/210mm

The heat and lack of snow runoff don't help, with summer temperatures getting up to/past 44C/111F and so-called winter bottoming out this year at 2C/35.6F.

The gist of this is, it's damn hard to grow what you enjoy! However, it does "force" you to be Green. Earth-friendly irrigation is not a hippie concept, here. It's normal. It's what the yuppie woman down the street does, and the hillbilly grandpa across the road, not to mention the schools, businesses, and well, just about everyone.

Here are some SOP (Standard Operating Procedures) for life in Droughtville, and which of those we actually manage.

Rainwater tanks used for gardening
Rainwater tanks piped into house
Grey water used for gardening
Dual-flush toilets
Drip irrigation used max 3 hrs weekly
/1-day-per-week watering w/ trigger hose
/Native plant gardening

Our rainwater tank died last year, but it's first on our list for Xmas gifts, though we can't afford to pipe it into the house. We're planning three tank systems. One catching house runoff for the mid-back garden, one catching shed runoff for the back-back garden, and one catching the eventual chicken house runoff for their own drinking water.

We're not perfect about only watering on our assigned Sunday evenings. But we rarely water more than once per week. And we were using the drip irrigation a lot, but that's before I found out the regulations. Ugh.

As for native gardening.. we're working on it, but most of what we do is relocation of existing plants from around the yard as new plants are pricey.

These are required measures in most parts of Australia. But can the rest of the world afford not to follow suit? My own step-dad is considering rainwater collection and they're in relatively wet Central Virginia! What do you do to combat the effects of global warming on your garden?

What is the Suburban Plot?

plot n.
1. a. A small piece of ground, generally used for a specific purpose: a garden plot. b. A measured area of land; a lot.
2. A ground plan, as for a building; a diagram.
3. The pattern of events or main story in a narrative or drama.
4. A secret plan to accomplish a hostile or illegal purpose; a scheme

This blog exists in response to each of the four above definitions of plot. Sure, in simplest interpretations, this is a chronicle of my little family's efforts to work the soil of our small chunk of Suburbia, but there's more to the story. More to the plot, if you will.

What is the great suburban plot, then?

Making money. I know, catch your breath, that was a real shocker, I'm sure. The great suburban plot is to make money from providing goods and services for a population that's forgotten the skills to provide for themselves. And that, more than anything, is what has motivated us to grow our little garden.

To be fair, my husband has quietly daydreamed of constructing a veggie patch in the ample back garden since he bought the house three years ago. And again, in fairness, I have a touch of inner hippie that requires a good bit of dirt digging to keep the peace-sign-flashing demons at bay. But truly, it is a mercenary thing that brought us to this place of gardening goodness.

We're broke! Yep, that's right. Broke. I mean, we pay our bills (mostly) and we've not been late on the mortgage even once, but still...we're broke. This is, in no small part, due to our terrible, unfortunate habit of liking to eat three times a day...sometimes four. Our food expenses ranked second amongst all our spending. Something had to be done.

If you've read back a bit, you'll know that in my past life I was an analytics specialist, deciphering patterns of data into solid trends. In other words, I'm a spreadsheet junky. So, naturally, I applied the trusty tools of MS Excel to our grocery problem and began tracking common purchases at several different local stores over a period of twelve weeks.

In the beginning, the trends showed that, no matter what we bought or where we shopped, we were averaging $140 (AUD) in total weekly grocery spending (food, supplies, personal care, etc). Through some creative shopping and planning, we've knocked it down to $100-110. This is for a family of two adults with no pets. That may not sound like much, but when non-grocery bills total around $1950 per month, and one's total income is about $2600, monthly...well, you do the math. Inspired by curiosity, I also conducted a little poll of an online Adelaide community and discovered we were all in the same fleet of expensive little boats, with average food-only spending for a family of 2.2 (yeah, yeah, I know.) people at $118.24 per week, not including take-out and restaurant food, nor that occasional cappuccino at the corner cafe.

This is an Oz-wide—likely Worldwide—problem, which even led the government to attempt some pitiful semblance of price monitoring, though I think one of the morning talk shows does a better job of it. We don't even have unit-based pricing (ie price per kg/lb etc) here! So, while I'm not a conspiracy theorist by nature, one does have to wonder how anyone, shy of a spreadsheet-obsessed immigrant with too much time on her hands, is supposed to save on food at any of the whopping three main grocery chains.

The easiest solution when faced with near-monopolistic food-peddling empire and lackluster government policy? Grow it yourself. So we are.

More on this rant later, no doubt!

DIY Drip Irrigation

Drip irrigation is an excellent water-saver, and it's good for your plants too. It allows precise, measured delivery of water to the roots of the plant, helping to prevent watering nearby weeds, or encouraging bolting on certain plants which respond badly to being watered from above.

Bunnings (the Aussie Home Depot) currently sells pre-drilled 30 metre drip irrigation hoses for around $37, and that's just the beginning. Add in fittings and stoppers, timers, and all the other things their project books insist you need, and you could easily drop as much as $100 on just one length of watering hose for your veggie patch. Here's how we cut the total cost under $7.

Supplies:
30 metres of black, UV tolerant poly tube - $4.95
1 stopper fitting - $0.60
1 tap-attachment fitting - $0.60
1 small, sharp metal nail - Free from our hardware stash
A dozen or two metal tent stakes, or similar - Free, but others might not have these laying around.
Tools:
A hammer
Potentially a saw or metal grinder of some sort, but we'll get to that.

First, stretch out the full length of tube to straighten it as best you can. They come coiled, and they like to stay coiled. Next, step back from your garden and get a real visual plan of the best route for laying your irrigation. Remember, one end needs to attach to a water supply, or the project kind of ends there! Bonus points if you can hook it to a rainwater collection tank, or greywater system if you're irrigating established, non-food plants.

Grab a friend and start laying tube, with the goal being to get the base of every plant exposed to some part of your irrigation system. Use a hammer to nail tent stakes into the soil, with the crooked end acting as an anchor for the tubing.

TIP: If, like us, you don't have enough tent stakes, or your soil is too soft for stable anchoring, make your own anchors. We had excellent luck cutting up an old, unwanted, rusty metal trellis "gifted" us by some previous homeowner. The hubby cut them into a large U-shaped bracket and they worked like a charm!

Once you've secured the tubing to the ground put a stopper fitting into the far end of the tube and, you guessed it, join the tap attachment to the tube and the tap. Now, grab your trusty (but not rusty) nail and get to stabbing! Start with one hole for every plant or clump of plants you'd like to water. If there are just too many, sparsely perforate the tube as needed. If there's nothing planted along a section of tube...don't poke it! Save water where you can. For planted mounds, I prefer a low "rainbow" of tube overtop to trying to wind the irrigation around the whole damn thing.

Once everything is stabbed and poked, turn on the tap. But be careful--Your peaceful little drip irrigation system can easily become a geyser if the pressure is too high. And if you feel you absolutely need a two-hour timer for your tap, that should only bring the project total cost up to $16 or so.

Congratulations! You just built your very own drip irrigation system! Now that you know how to do the basics, on the cheap, you can experiment with adding offshots, T-joints, L-corners, everything you need to flawlessly water your entire patch.