Almost the Season

A question from a colleague reminds me that I haven't blogged in a while -- all manner of things going on. I'll try to list them sequentially:

*** New boss at work. Always fun trying to figure out what they want.

*** Major eruption of vegetables. We have picked 64 pounds of blackberries so far this year. We've got more than five dozen jars of carrots and green beans; a couple dozen jars of potatoes (already!); strawberry and peach jam; about a dozen jars of home-made salsa; and a couple dozen jars of bread-and-butter pickles.

The tomatoes haven't been totally washed out, lots of dry beans are coming up, our sweet corn is doing well, the potatoes might wind up being all right, and the chard and kale have exploded. We might do some fall broccoli, although we've got plenty in the freezer -- next to the five dozen bags of frozen pesto, celery, onion, scallions and bell pepper.

*** Quest for firewood. I took a week off just to cut firewood, and only made it five days before the chainsaw crapped out. I used a generic brand of two-cycle oil with an ethanol mix, and it ended very badly. I got maybe -- maybe -- three cords of good wood before the Dolmar blew a piston and head gasket. Repair is going to be about $260. Sigh.

*** The 50 broiler chicks are outside in the small coop. Obnoxious as hell, too. I'll be doing the universe a favor when I fill my freezer (bought a used Montgomery Ward 16 cubic footer for only $60!) with them. The 15 feather-footed bantams are still in the bathroom brooder, so I haven't yet gotten rid of the peep-peep-peep sound in the house.

*** Planning to get out Wednesday and pick up two dairy goats, a La Mancha doe and wether. They're only four months old, so it'll be a while before we get any milk. We're hoping they'll do some more clearing that the Three Little Pigs have missed. We'll breed the doe later this fall and hope for milk by early spring.

*** The kids start school on Wednesday, which means I'll be back into a morning running groove. The best thing about morning running is that there aren't any excuses; you run, and you're done. Can't put it off. And it'll be gorgeous here soon, which means I need to get going on more bike time.

*** I finished a book draft. We'll see if it's worth publishing. More about that later, though. On to the next book project ...

Moving Day

One of those days where I'm going to want to get to sleep early.

Slept late, but it didn't help much. Got up, threw on some running clothes, and did six miles, which is as much as I've done in ... well, in a long time. Didn't feel too bad, other than just setting the stage for dragging most of the rest of the day.

Ran into Brattleboro for feed hay, mulch hay, rabbit food, grower pellets and corn. Stopped by the grocery and got some kid food -- cereal, pork chops (99c/lb!), ziti noodles, and all things dairy. I was tired and hungry and lusted after a couple of McD's quarter-pounders, but I had a couple of thoughts that saved me:

1. Do I really want to be this fat any longer than I have to be? and

2. Am I such a tool that I need to spend money, much less calories, on this reputed food?

No, and no.

So I came back home and gathered sap. Only about three gallons today. Either it's slowing down, or the lack of sun makes a big difference. Part of me hopes it's slowing down -- we've made three gallons so far this year, and should make a couple more. I think five gallons is a good first year.

Lisa and I grabbed old chickens from the small coop and threw them in the barn. Most weren't too pleased about it. Then, I went upstairs and put leg bands on the small chicks so I can identify them next spring and took them down to the small coop, eight at a time. They really weren't too pleased about it ... but I've got my bathroom back, anyway.

Dishes, laundry, a few other things, and I'm ready for bed. But before I crash, it should be noted that We Are Trendy (Although Not in a Swiss-Family Robinson Sort of Way):

April 6, 2008
Duck and Cover: It’s the New Survivalism
By ALEX WILLIAMS

THE traditional face of survivalism is that of a shaggy loner in camouflage, holed up in a cabin in the wilderness and surrounded by cases of canned goods and ammunition.

It is not that of Barton M. Biggs, the former chief global strategist at Morgan Stanley. Yet in Mr. Biggs’s new book, “Wealth, War and Wisdom,” he says people should “assume the possibility of a breakdown of the civilized infrastructure.”

“Your safe haven must be self-sufficient and capable of growing some kind of food,” Mr. Biggs writes. “It should be well-stocked with seed, fertilizer, canned food, wine, medicine, clothes, etc.

Think Swiss Family Robinson. Even in America and Europe there could be moments of riot and rebellion when law and order temporarily completely breaks down.”

Survivalism, it seems, is not just for survivalists anymore.

Faced with a confluence of diverse threats — a tanking economy, a housing crisis, looming environmental disasters, and a sharp spike in oil prices — people who do not consider themselves extremists are starting to discuss doomsday measures once associated with the social fringes.

I Cannot Disagree With Michael Pollan

A good point from the NYTimes (although truly, I just need to eat less. A lot less):

April 2, 2008
Some Good News on Food Prices
By KIM SEVERSON

WHILE grocery shoppers agonize over paying 25 percent more for eggs and 17 percent more for milk, Michael Pollan, the author and de facto leader of the food intellectuals, happily dreams of small, expensive bottles of Coca-Cola.

Along with some other critics of the American way of eating, he likes the idea that some kinds of food will cost more, and here’s one reason why: As the price of fossil fuels and commodities like grain climb, nutritionally questionable, high-profit ingredients like high-fructose corn syrup will, too. As a result, Cokes are likely to get smaller and cost more. Then, the argument goes, fewer people will drink them.

And if American staples like soda, fast-food hamburgers and frozen dinners don’t seem like such a bargain anymore, the American eating public might turn its attention to ingredients like local fruits and vegetables, and milk and meat from animals that eat grass. It turns out that those foods, already favorites of the critics of industrial food, have also dodged recent price increases.

Logic would dictate that arguing against cheap food would be the wrong move when the Consumer Price Index puts food costs at about 4.5 percent more this year than last. But for locavores, small growers, activist chefs and others, higher grocery bills might be just the thing to bring about the change they desire.

Higher food costs, they say, could push pasture-raised milk and meat past its boutique status, make organic food more accessible and spark a national conversation about why inexpensive food is not really such a bargain after all.

“It’s very hard to argue for higher food prices because you are ceding popular high ground to McDonald’s when you do that,” said Mr. Pollan, a contributor to The New York Times Magazine and author of “In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto” (Penguin Press). “But higher food prices level the playing field for sustainable food that doesn’t rely on fossil fuels.”

The food-should-cost-more cadre wants to change an agricultural system that spends billions of dollars in government subsidies to grow commodities like grain, sugar, corn and animal protein as cheaply as possible.

The current system, they argue, is almost completely reliant on petroleum for fertilizers and global transportation. It has led to consolidations of farms, environmentally unsound monoculture and, at the end of the line, a surplus of inexpensive food with questionable nutritional value. Organic products are not subsidized, which is one reason those products are more expensive.

As a result, the theory goes, small farmers can’t make a living, obesity and diabetes are worsening, workers are being exploited and soil and waterways are being damaged. In other words, the true cost of a hamburger or a box of macaroni and cheese may be a lot more than the price.

Walkabouts and Bad Dogs

Quiet Christmas. Boys got books, video games and clothes, mostly. I got Lisa a plane ticket to see her father in Florida and another Bohus sweater kit; she got me a workshop at the New England Cheesemaking Supply in Ashfield, Mass. Looking forward to it, though it'll have to wait until April. I have a feeling my shoulder's not going to be up to pulling mozarella and cutting mascarpone in time for the February class.

Been walking quite a bit lately, two and three walks a day. Don't feel like running, swimming, or biking. It's been nice outside, not too cold -- about 30 degrees or so -- and no snow, sleet or ice expected until tomorrow. Big full moon and quite a few stars. We've got about a dozen houses on our block (two full-time residents), and only a couple of families up for the holidays. Always amazes me that people will shell out hundreds of thousands for a place and never visit. Not that I'm complaining.

The good deal about the walking is that it's helped me sleep a bit better. I generally get to sleep around midnight, and my shoulder wakes me up around 430a or so. The walking put me out like a light last night -- went for three walks -- but the shoulder got me up around 5a. That, and the sound of chomping in the kitchen. Went downstairs to investigate, and the collies had managed to get on top of the kitchen island and chow down on the Christmas ham bone.

Bad dogs. Very, very bad dogs.

Went by the post office today. Seems like the garden catalogs are as bad as the Christmas ones. Probably won't see spring for another four months, and they're already flooding the mailbox. I'm pretty sure it's Seed Savers Exchange for us this year.

Lots of work to do this week. Taking vacation from the day job, but I've got a couple of book deadlines looming, a computer monitor that needs fixing, and a ton of cleaning to be done.

I also want to take some walks and not think about the shoulder.

Of Chickens and Chainsaws

So I'm very pleased with the chickens lately. I'm averaging 11 eggs per day. The New Hampshire Reds are laying more than the Aruacanas, which is expected. I'll get about seven brown eggs and four green eggs. And the baby chickens are starting to look like real Aruacanas, with the black and gold feathers. Very pretty.

The chainsaw, I am less pleased about.

Damn cover keeps popping on it, which means I have to tighten the chain about every five minutes. I just need a new chainsaw. I got the boys off to school about 645a, and cut wood until 8a, when the screw that holds the cover popped off. Couldn't find it, so I had to quit for the day.

Wrapped up the day job early and went for a 5-K. A rather vegetative experience, but good for me. I usually do a lot of thinking -- get some of my best ideas while running -- but I just turned the brain off for 27:03 and enjoyed the movement.

Wrapped up the run and took cans to be recycled, got my hair cut, grabbed some groceries, bought a new screw and chain for the chainsaw and picked up a bag of corn at the Agway. Came home, made dinner for the kids. Lisa's making semi-local pie -- Grafton cheese, CSA kale and onion, and our own green eggs.

Hope to get the damn chainsaw working tomorrow and throw some compost on the garden over the weekend. And in the "enough, already!" category, from WCAX-TV:

Brattleboro Considers Nudity Ordinance
Brattleboro, Vermont - November 7, 2007

The select board in Brattleboro is once again working on an ordinance that would ban public nudity.

They have asked Interim Town Manager Barbara Sondag to prepare a draft ordinance for them to review at their next meeting in two weeks. The select board enacted an emergency nudity ban this summer, but later voted down plans to make it permanent, because they couldn't agree on a punishment.

The board has reached a compromise that would make public nudity in Brattleboro a civil violation.

Passing an anti-nudity ordinance in Vermont in November seems like the height of unnecessary legislation. It's getting down to 20 already at night; another month, and anyone walking around Brattleboro with no clothes will confirm Darwinian theory.

So we're worrying about frostbitten wee parts in this neck of the woods, while other places are doing some really interesting stuff, like this:

In Berkeley we're thinking a lot about solar this week, because on Tuesday, the Berkeley City Council approved a breakthrough financing plan aimed at encouraging local solar panel and solar water heater installations.

Green Wombat has the full story, but the basics are simple. The city foots the bill for the installation, but homeowners retain ownership and pay the city back over 20 years via an annual property assessment. And if they sell their house before the bill is completely paid off, no worries -- the liability for the remaining bill, along with the solar panels, goes to the next owner of the house.

(Disclaimer: Green Wombat is not only a co-resident of Berkeley, but a fellow member of the Malcolm X Elementary PTA. I will now shamelessly steal from him: "Solar power in Berkeley: By Any Means Necessary.)

The math sure looks good to me. The annual property assessment fee adds up to about a year's worth of electricity bills. Like many homeowners, I've been daunted by the $20,000-$30,000 price tag for a solar installation. But I'm going to be lining up with my Berkeley brethren to apply for participation in the "Sustainable Energy Financing District" when it is up and running, perhaps as early as 2008.

Imagine if the federal government supported a similar program. My guess is that leadership on this issue might make buying some shares in a solar power start-up a pretty good investment. Oh, wait a minute: Solar power start-ups are already some of the hottest action on the market, without the federal government doing a damn thing. As Green Wombat also reported on Thursday, the stock price of thin-film solar module maker First Solar shot up 34 percent on Thursday, to a Googlish $224.43. The performance is all the more remarkable when considering how badly the rest of the market did this week.

Green Wombat bills itself as covering "the intersection of the environment, technology, business and policy." But if you review the last six posts as of the morning of Nov. 9, every single one concerned some aspect of solar power, with a heavy focus on California. Solar power is exploding in California, and a horde of venture-capital funded start-ups are jostling with each other to get a piece of the action. So while Democrats and Republicans trade jabs over who is responsible for the current price of a gallon of gas, and by the latest reports are fumbling a major opportunity to pass legislation that would significantly boost the production of renewable energy, here in California, something powerful is actually happening.

Then again, almost all our power in Vermont should be coming from the Quebec hydro plant on Rupert River by 2012. So nyeah. We're cleaner and greener and can afford to bicker about trivial crap like clothing-optional towns.

Bake It

A good piece from The Simple Dollar on baking your own bread. Why? Here's one good reason -- look at the ingredients in store-bought:

Enriched wheat flour (flour, barley malt, ferrous sulfate (iron), “B” vitamins (niacin, thaimine mononitrate (B1), riboflavin (B2), folic acid)), water, sweetener (high fructose corn syrup or sugar), yeast, wheat bran, whole wheat flour, wheat gluten, molasses. Contains 2% or less of: soybean oil, salt, sweet dairy whey, butter (cream, salt, enzymes), maltodextrin, honey, corn syrup, calcium sulfate, soy flur, dough conditioners (may contain: dicalcium phosphate, calcium dioxide, sodium stearoyl lactylate, ethoxylated mono and diglycerides, mono and diglycerides, and/or datem), yeast nutrients (may contain: ammonium sulfate, ammonium chloride, calcium carbonate, monocalcium phosphate, and/or ammonium phosphate), cornstarch, wheat starch, vinegar, natural flavor, beta carotene (color), enzymes, calcium propionate (to retain freshness), soy lecithin.

It's sometimes a pain in the butt, and it's always time-consuming. But it's worth it. We do pretty much all our own bread; sometimes, buying hamburger buns, or as a treat, potato bread for the kids. But for day-to-day stuff, we do all our own. The kids snack like fiends on it.

It also, of course, takes fewer calories to produce.

So I'm looking at the "all-new Chrysler Town and Country minivan" while reading about a new game: "Peak Oil Shock Me."

An increasingly popular parlor game among peak oil activists is to see who can serve up the most shocking morsel of peak oil news at any one sitting. There are now plenty of morsels to choose from on an almost daily basis. Here are some recent samples:

A former Saudi Aramco executive said he believes the world has peaked.

Production at the large international oil companies appears to be dropping like a stone. (Recent reports on Shell, BP and Exxon tell the story.)

Greenland's offshore undiscovered reserves are estimated to be far less than previously thought.

Persistent new highs in the oil price of late only add to the end-times quality of the game.

Just a bit of cognitive dissonance going on ...

Speaking of which, the price dropped a bit today. Be entertaining (if that's the right word) to see what happens on Wednesday when the next inventory report comes out. Seems as though lately it drops on Monday and Tuesday, then goes up midweek.

Food, Glorious Food

I was really blown away by Michael Pollan's book, The Omnivore's Dilemma. Here's his op-ed in the Sunday NY Times:

November 4, 2007
Op-Ed Contributor
Weed It and Reap
By MICHAEL POLLAN
Berkeley, Calif.

FOR Americans who have been looking to Congress to reform the food system, these past few weeks have been, well, the best of times and the worst of times. A new politics has sprouted up around the farm bill, traditionally a parochial piece of legislation thrashed out in private between the various agricultural interests (wheat growers versus corn growers; meatpackers versus ranchers) without a whole lot of input or attention from mere eaters.

Not this year. The eaters have spoken, much to the consternation of farm-state legislators who have fought hard — and at least so far with success — to preserve the status quo.

Americans have begun to ask why the farm bill is subsidizing high-fructose corn syrup and hydrogenated oils at a time when rates of diabetes and obesity among children are soaring, or why the farm bill is underwriting factory farming (with subsidized grain) when feedlot wastes are polluting the countryside and, all too often, the meat supply. For the first time, the public health community has raised its voice in support of overturning farm policies that subsidize precisely the wrong kind of calories (added fat and added sugar), helping to make Twinkies cheaper than carrots and Coca-Cola competitive with water. Also for the first time, the international development community has weighed in on the debate, arguing that subsidized American exports are hobbling cotton farmers in Nigeria and corn farmers in Mexico.

On Capitol Hill, hearings on the farm bill have been packed, and newspapers like The San Francisco Chronicle are covering the legislation as closely as The Des Moines Register, bringing an unprecedented level of attention to what has long been one of the most obscure and least sexy pieces of legislation in Congress. Sensing the winds of reform at his back, Senator Tom Harkin of Iowa, chairman of the Senate Agriculture Committee, told a reporter in July: “This is not just a farm bill. It’s a food bill, and Americans who eat want a stake in it.”

Right now, that stake is looking more like a toothpick. Americans who eat have little to celebrate in the bill that Mr. Harkin is expected to bring to the floor this week. Like the House bill passed in July, the Senate product is very much a farm bill in the tradition- al let-them-eat-high-fructose-corn-syrup mold.

For starters, the Old Guard on both agriculture committees has managed to preserve the entire hoary contraption of direct payments, countercyclical payments and loan deficiency payments that subsidize the five big commodity crops — corn, wheat, rice, soybeans and cotton — to the tune of $42 billion over five years.

The Old Guard has also managed to add a $5 billion “permanent disaster” program (excuse me, but isn’t a permanent disaster a contradiction in terms?) to help farmers in the High Plains struggling to grow crops in a drought-prone region that, as the chronic need for disaster aid suggests, might not be the best place to grow crops.

When you consider that farm income is at record levels (thanks to the ethanol boom, itself fueled by another set of federal subsidies); that the World Trade Organization has ruled that several of these subsidies are illegal; that the federal government is broke and the president is threatening a veto, bringing forth a $288 billion farm bill that guarantees billions in payments to commodity farmers seems impressively defiant.

How could this have happened? For starters, farm bill critics did a far better job demonizing subsidies, and depicting commodity farmers as welfare queens, than they did proposing alternative — and politically appealing — forms of farm support. And then the farm lobby did what it has always done: bought off its critics with “programs.” For that reason “Americans who eat” can expect some nutritious crumbs from the farm bill, just enough to ensure that reform-minded legislators will hold their noses and support it.

It’s an old story: the “hunger lobby” gets its food stamps so long as the farm lobby can have its subsidies. Similar, if less lavish, terms are now being offered to the public health and environmental “interests” to get them on board. That’s why there’s more money in this farm bill for nutrition programs and, for the first time, about $2 billion to support “specialty crops” — farm-bill-speak for the kind of food people actually eat. (Since California grows most of the nation’s specialty crops, this was the price for the state delegation’s support. Cheap indeed!)

There’s also money for the environment: an additional $4 billion in the Senate bill to protect wetlands and grasslands and reward farmers for environmental stewardship, and billions in the House bill for environmental cleanup. There’s an important provision in both bills that will make it easier for schools to buy food from local farmers. And there’s money to promote farmers’ markets and otherwise support the local food movement.

But as important as these programs are, they are just programs — mere fleas on the elephant in the room. The name of that elephant is the commodity title, the all-important subsidy section of the bill. It dictates the rules of the entire food system. As long as the commodity title remains untouched, the way we eat will remain unchanged.

The explanation for this is straightforward. We would not need all these nutrition programs if the commodity title didn’t do such a good job making junk food and fast food so ubiquitous and cheap. Food stamps are crucial, surely, but they will be spent on processed rather than real food as long as the commodity title makes calories of fat and sugar the best deal in the supermarket. We would not need all these conservation programs if the commodity title, by paying farmers by the bushel, didn’t encourage them to maximize production with agrochemicals and plant their farms with just one crop fence row to fence row.

And the government would not need to pay feedlots to clean up the water or upgrade their manure pits if subsidized grain didn’t make rearing animals on feedlots more economical than keeping them on farms. Why does the farm bill pay feedlots to install waste treatment systems rather than simply pay ranchers to keep their animals on grass, where the soil would be only too happy to treat their waste at no cost?

However many worthwhile programs get tacked onto the farm bill to buy off its critics, they won’t bring meaningful reform to the American food system until the subsidies are addressed — until the underlying rules of the food game are rewritten. This is a conversation that the Old Guard on the agriculture committees simply does not want to have, at least not with us.

But its defiance on the subsidy question may actually be a sign of weakness, for one detects a note of defensiveness creeping into the rhetoric. “I know people on the outside can sit and complain about this,” Representative Collin Peterson of Minnesota, chairman of the House Agriculture Committee, told The San Francisco Chronicle last summer. “But frankly most of those people have no clue what they’re talking about. Most people in the city have no concept of what’s going on here.”

It seems more likely that, this time around, people in the city and all across the country know exactly what’s going on — they just don’t like it.

Mr. Peterson’s farm bill passed the House by the smallest margin in years, and might have been picked apart on the floor if Representative Nancy Pelosi, the speaker of the House, hadn’t leapt to its defense.

(She claimed to be helping freshmen Democrats from rural districts.)

But Senate rules are different, and Mr. Harkin’s bill will be challenged on the floor and very possibly improved. One sensible amendment that Senator Byron Dorgan, Democrat of North Dakota, and Senator Chuck Grassley, Republican of Iowa, are expected to introduce would put a $250,000 cap on the payments any one farmer can receive in a year. This would free roughly $1 billion for other purposes (like food stamps and conservation) and slow the consolidation of farms in the Midwest.

A more radical alternative proposed by Senator Richard Lugar, Republican of Indiana, and Senator Frank Lautenberg, Democrat of New Jersey, would scrap the current subsidy system and replace it with a form of free government revenue insurance for all American farmers and ranchers, including the ones who grow actual food. Commodity farmers would receive a payment only when their income dropped more than 15 percent as the result of bad weather or price collapse. The $20 billion saved under this plan, called the Fresh Act, would go to conservation and nutrition programs, as well as to deficit reduction.

What finally emerges from Congress depends on exactly who is paying closest attention next week on the Senate floor and then later in the conference committee. We know the American Farm Bureau will be on the case, defending the commodity title on behalf of those who benefit from it most: the biggest commodity farmers, the corporations who sell them chemicals and equipment and, most of all, the buyers of cheap agricultural commodities — companies like Archer Daniels Midland, Cargill, Coca-Cola and McDonald’s.

In the past that alliance could have passed a farm bill like this one without breaking a sweat. But the politics of food have changed, and probably for good. If the eaters and all the other “people on the outside” make themselves heard, we just might end up with something that looks less like a farm bill and more like the food bill a poorly fed America so badly needs.

Michael Pollan, a contributing writer at The Times Magazine and a professor of journalism at the University of California at Berkeley, is the author of “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” and the forthcoming “In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto.”

A Quick Update

So John's interviews went well, even though he flat-ass refused to put his hair up in a ponytail or somesuch. He was polite, had his spiel down ("I just really want to be part of a great place to work"), and kept eye contact. The recruiting head told me they'd call Monday, but by the time we got back, there was a message from one of the managers. We'll know more on Monday.

Did six miles, mostly uphill, today. And -- bonus! -- got two eggs. Made the near-fatal mistake of setting them by the coop, and Stink, The Original Egg-Sucking Dog, almost got them.

Hoping for decent weather tomorrow. I'd like to dig up the last of the potatoes. I made some bread this afternoon that came out OK; the leek-and-potato soup, not so much. Not sure if it's dog food or chicken food for tomorrow.

About Time

Busy weekend, but mostly good things.

Had to go to NYC on Saturday. Long day. Left for Albany around 6a, got back after midnight. Slept late Sunday and cleaned house. Busy as hell on Monday; grocery, CSA pickup, chicken feed, dog food, and ...

John's 16th birthday. It's today. Time flies.

Sigh.

I'll take him out for some new clothes he's been wanting when he gets back from school. I got a few video games and books for him, but he told me not to spend too much money on him. When was the last time anyone heard anything like that from a 16-year-old?

Sigh again.

Have to go to Washington tomorrow.

Triple sigh.

On the bright side, leaves are hitting their peak. One of my chickens laid an actual, real, live egg. It's small and brown (so I'm suspecting a Red did the deed), but it's an improvement. I'm very pleased.

Here's a picture of the driveway. Pretty leaves, no?

And I got leeks at the CSA! Mmmmmmm. Prepare for leek-and-potato soup. Good stuff when it gets chilly at nights.

Read of the Week: Last Stand: Logging, Journalism, and the Case for Humility.

What's Wrong Here?

So we're manufacturing meat now?

Maybe that's part of the e. coli problem ...

October 5, 2007
Meat Company Going Out of Business After Recall
By KEN BELSON and KAREEM FAHIM

Topps Meat Company, one of the country’s largest manufacturers of frozen hamburgers, said today it was going out of business after it recalled more than 21.7 million pounds of ground beef products last month.

The company, based in Elizabeth, N.J., said a few of its 87 employees will remain at the plant to help the United States Department of Agriculture investigate how the E. coli bacteria tainted frozen hamburger patties made there.

Anthony D’Urso, the chief operating officer at Topps, said the company was unable to withstand the financial burden of the recall.

“This is tragic for all concerned,” Mr. D’Urso said in a statement. “In one week we have gone from the largest U.S. manufacturer of frozen hamburgers to a company that cannot overcome the economic reality of a recall this large.”

A handful of workers trickled out of the company’s plant after being told that its doors would close. Vivian Quinones, who worked in the customer service department for two years, said employees were told this morning that Topps was going out of business.

“It was very emotional,” said Ms. Quinones, who has a 7-year old daughter. The news came “out of the blue. Everyone was somber.”

The company opened its doors in 1940 and was bought in 2003 by Strategic Investment and Holdings, an investment firm in Buffalo. Topps made branded frozen hamburgers and other meat products for supermarkets and mass merchandisers.

Plugging Away

Been a busy couple of days.

Coming closer to having the new chicken barn finished. Trenches have been dug around the yard, chicken run panels (6 x 6 frames with chicken wire) finished, support beams for the rafters nailed down, and wire skirting down to a foot around the exposed parts of the barn. Stained T-111 plywood panels for the walls and framed a couple of windows.

The stepdaughter has left the house, again. Sigh. Almost 21 and no clue about civilized behavior. Locked her younger brother in the rabbit shed for a couple of hours. Sibling shit. I could deal. But the smirking, deciding she didn't want to help with the barn, and refusing to apologize was a bit much. Lisa told her, my way or the highway. So she took the highway. We'll see if and when she decides to apologize, but my suspicion is that she'll hang out with friends until they get tired of the act.

Ran out to Brattleboro this morning and picked up some hardware miscellany and chicken feed, then out to the CSA for veggies. Spent the afternoon hammering and sawing. I'm thinking (and hoping) I'll be done with it by the weekend.

Now, I'm Sacrificing.

So I'd entered to run the Bar Harbor marathon, but I think I'm going to give my entry to charity. You've got to respect the distance, and I just don't feel like I've put in the miles. I could theoretically finish, maybe even do respectably. But dammit, I want to do better.

I've also got a work-related conflict that would put me in Vermont one day, New York the next, and then Bar Harbor. Not exactly a good idea to run a marathon after driving overnight (and that's what I'd have to do) from New York to get to the starting line in time.

I could rationalize that. But dammit! there's now a meeting not too far from the house that weekend (http://www.postoilsolutions.org/) that I really wanted to make on using cold frames to extend the growing season, and I have to be in New York. And since I've been able to haul a couple of old windows from driveways, I was really looking forward to it.

Sigh.

On the plus side, an embarassment of farmer's market riches -- Brattleboro will be open through the winter!

http://www.postoilsolutions.org/2007wfm

Speaking of food, this I like:


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Sneaky Mac
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2 cups cauliflower
2 medium zucchini
1 tsp lemon juice
4 tbsp water
1 cup grated Swiss cheese
1/2 cup cheddar cheese
1/2 cup skim milk
1/2 pound finely chopped Andouille sausage
2 boxes macaroni and cheese
1 tbsp white pepper
¶
Steam the cauliflower. Mix raw peeled zucchini with the lemon juice. Add the cooked cauliflower and mix with zucchini, adding water as needed until mixture is pureed. Do not allow children in the kitchen.
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Use two boxes of standard, macaroni and cheese noodles. Boil, drain and rinse noodles. Finely chop, then sautee Andouille sausage while noodles are boiling. Grate 1 cup Swiss cheese and 1/2 cup cheddar. Make children leave kitchen if necessary. Throw away the cheese packets that came with the macaroni and cheese, taking care to ensure they are at the very bottom of the trash and will not be discovered. You can also hide them in the vegetable bin of your refrigerator, where they are not likely to be discovered.
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Mix macaroni noodles, cheese, pepper, skim milk and sausage in pot over low heat until cheese is melted. Check again to make sure children have left the kitchen. Add cauliflower and zucchini puree. Stir very thoroughly. Clean bowls and/or blender, and hide copy of Missy Chase Lapine's "The Sneaky Chef."
¶
Leave macaroni and cheese boxes on kitchen island for suspicious children. Serves four.

***

Where was I?

Oh, yeah. Spent yesterday cleaning like a banshee. We got the first floor pretty well mucked out, which was no small accomplishment. Ran out in the afternoon and bought a dozen sheets of 4 x 8 plywood for the barn walls, and a dozen 1 x 3s for the barn rafters, plus more chicken food. Rolled the plywood out to the car, which raised an interesting dilemma:

How do you put a dozen 4 x 8 plywood sheets into a Subaru?

You don't. I took the kayak rack off the top and used the Thule straps to tie down the plywood. This being Vermont, I had a good dozen helpers and assorted onlookers, including one of the hardware store clerks who must've spent 30 minutes lashing the plywood down. We spent a good 15 minutes discussing route possibilities and the likelihood of the plywood peeling off and decapitating someone. Yeesh. I could've driven 80mph into a wind tunnel, and I don't think it would've moved an inch. Anyway, got home, unloaded, did some more cleaning and threw some hay into the chicken run since it's been wet and was getting disgusting.

Got up early this morning and hauled all the trash to the dumpster, went to the hardware store and got some stain (Penofin -- it's wonderful stuff, as long as you're not interested in having any more children) for the coop panels. Came back and couldn't find my work gloves. So I puttered out to the store to get work gloves and some new jeans for Will; he was very appreciative, as always. I swung by the hardware store again and grabbed a half-dozen roof panels, plus some more 1 x 2s for the chicken run.

I didn't get home until 5p, which meant I could only spend a couple of hours working on the new barn. I got the area around the building trenched with a pickax, then cut wire and staple-gunned it to the two short sides. If I lose a chicken, it'll be one determined weasel that digs through a foot of rock and wire to get its meal.

Will be taking the next two days off from the day job to get most of the barn done. I'm hoping we can spend tomorrow staining, trenching the chicken run and assembling the chicken run panels (it'll be a 12 x 16 space with chicken wire stapled to 1 x 2 frames, and a foot of chicken wire running into the ground). I'll spend a chunk of Tuesday, hopefully, putting the walls up. It's going to be kind of tricky, since I've got to cut for two doors and two windows. If I get well and truly lucky, I might even be able to put up rafters and the roof by Tuesday, but that's really pushing it.

Bottom line, I'm hoping to have the chickens in their new home by next weekend. But there's a lot to do between now and then. Hoping for a few stray moments to run. And bike. And swim.

Days Are Getting Shorter

Again.

Almost dark by 730p. Good thing I work out in the morning.

Did a four-mile run Thursday, another 5-K on Friday. Taking today off to rest and relax, mostly in the kitchen. Scooped up some purple Andean potatoes last night and thought about what to do with them for most of today. Finally settled for olive oil-and-sea salt purple potato chips. Threw together a quick four loaves of bread, did some laundry.

Chatted with the kids' school on Friday. John really wants to do better, and it's being noticed. His guidance counselor is bringing him chocolate chip cookies every week, and he's been OK'ed to take Western Civilization (usually a junior- or senior-level course) next semester. Not bad for a sophomore. And Will's been approved to take ninth-grade algebra -- as an eighth-grader! None too shabby.

Chickens are getting as big as eagles. We've been feeding them a fair amount of weeds, green apples and compost-y things like watermelon rinds. Bunnies are getting big, too. Been thinking about getting a rainwater cistern at some point, but that's probably going to have to wait quite a while (as will everything I'd like to order from the Lehman's catalog).

Will try increasing my workouts a bit, get some major work done on a day job project, and do a bit of cleaning this week. Supposed to rain all week. Hoping it'll dry up enough for me to finish up the barn next weekend.

School Again

Yesterday was a bit of a scramble.

I woke up early and got going on a few miscellaneous projects. Plugged away throughout the day and broke around 330p to get to the CSA in time for the weekly pickup. Nice day; spent far too much time in the fields picking out spoilage for the chickens. Got four bags of split grape tomatoes, tomatillos and ground cherries. Drove over to Greenfield and did a big grocery haul, making it home just in time to feed kids and get them into bed before school.

The boys were up at 5a; clearly, no one is excited about school this year. They got me up around 615a, and I drove them to the firehouse to catch the bus, then went down to one of my usual running spots. Did 3.1 miles, but really started hurting the last tenth. Made it to the car and about two miles down the road before I had to jump out and find a good place -- hell, any place -- to be sick.

They say everyone will have at least one run completely ruined by stomach problems. I'm hoping today was my one run.

Anyway, was home by 730a and slept it off, then worked on the day job. Fed the chickens some wild apples that Lisa had scrounged and stuck to bland stuff (oatmeal, wheat bread, Power Bar) for myself. Boys came home from school at 315p, both looked pretty pleased. Hope it'll be a good year for both.

I'll be working until the wee hours tonight, I suspect.

Working, Working, Working

... At least the end of the 12- to 14-hour days are in sight.

(Maybe. The irony gods tend to have sharp ears).

Took a longer-than-usual lunch today to get John a new pair of hiking boots, which we'll try to break in this weekend. Also ran by the farm and picked up some goodies -- tomatoes, cantaloupe, onions, greens, cilantro and a big honkin' sack of flowers.

Hell continues to progress, although I'm afraid terminal grumpiness is in the offing if I don't get off my butt. Maybe hiking this weekend will help.

Babes In The Woods. And The Shed. The Bathroom, Too.

Because it was my birthday -- and possibly more to the point, because it was an extraordinarily nice, sunny day -- we loaded up the kayak rack yesterday afternoon and went to the lake after I'd worked a few hours. I swam about three-quarters of a mile and kayaked (is that actually a verb?) about a half-mile. Scooted into town and had a birthday dinner of Cheap Chinese at the all-you-can-eat. Came home, did some more work.

Went out to check on the Angora rabbits in the shed. The pregnant doe was alone.

Or maybe not.

She'd been pulling hair out and stuffing it, along with hay, in a little nesting box. The hay was rustling. Lisa and I got a couple of long wooden spoons -- do not get between a mom rabbit and her babies if you value your fingers and poked through it. There were four little hairless bunnies curled up deep in the box.

Which reminded me. I had to reassemble the chicken brooder, just on the off-chance that the Aruacanas chicks would show up as promised. Finished work and put it together late, finishing up around midnight. Phone range this morning. This is why I really like the post office in My Town: They opened up a few minutes early for me. When I got there, the box o' peeps was on a table, next to a radio.

"We've been trying a little bit of everything," they said.

"Huh?"

"They don't like NPR."

"That could be a problem."

"They were pretty indifferent to Smokey Robinson."

"Hmmmmm."

"But they really seem to like the Four Tops."

It's a small town, and a small post office, so maybe we don't get that much mail. But I was still pretty charmed by the idea of a group of federal employees helping me to narrow down entertainment choices for chickens. Took them home and put them in the brooder, where they went right to town on some scratch. Amazing how they learn so quickly.

My own personal blonde moment: I was trying to figure out how best to describe the size of a day-old chicken when it came to me:

They're the size of an egg.

You think?

They're in the brooder, peeping happily now. I'm still a little concerned that they don't have vaccinations for coccidiosis or Marek's, but I guess that's what sulfa (and cage cleaning) is for.

A screaming boatload of work to do today. More later.

Satellite Frustration

I'll cop to missing a very, very few things about a large metro area. Starbucks. Daily newspapers you can hold. Occasionally decent Tex-Mex. But No. 1 on my list is reliable broadband.

We use satellite -- not to name any names, but this provider put me on hold for 35 minutes today when my connection went down. Talk about frustration. All told, I spent four hours diagnosing, troubleshooting and re-connecting.

Got up and took the bike to the shop to check the shifting problem. For some mysterious reason, it decided to shift for the shop owner. It's not a bike repair person I need -- it's an exorcist. Anyway, the Very Good Bike people didn't charge me anything other than a few funny looks, and a recommendation that I maybe think about a bike rack.

Scooted over the border to the CSA and picked up the week's haul:

Broccoli
Carrots
Spinach
Scallions
Swiss chard
Basil (more pesto!)
Parsley
Cilantro
Flowers

We got some spoilage; carrots, mostly, for one of the Angora rabbits, which is going to have a litter any day. Lisa is going to take some organic bread to the CSA next week and see how many shareholders might be interested in signing up for a loaf or two. That's a Good Thing.

Stopped by the farm supply store en route home and picked up grain for the chickens, ducks and turkeys; another water bucket so I can make one trip to and from the hose; and some thistle for the songbirds.

Also drove my running route yesterday. The Outback odometer was cooperative; it reported that I ran 13.1 miles. Seems like I was lot more tired than I usually am after running a half-marathon, but it was uphill. And raining. Wah. Poor me.

More from the Cohasset triathlon, which apparently involved a lot of EMS folks. The Boston Globe reported that it's the third death this year in a triathlon (story follows below), and the Cohasset Mariner reports at least three people wound up in the hospital.

Here's the Cohasset story:

Woman treated for cardiac event, man dies in triathlon
Triathlon CPR
Photo by Chris Shores
EMT's jump on board a Cohasset Harbormaster boat Sunday morning during the Cohasset Triathlon to help a participant in distress. Four participants were pulled from the water, three of whom were transported to the hospital.
By By Mary Ford and Nancy White
GateHouse News Service
Mon Jul 09, 2007, 11:26 AM EDT
Story Tools: Email This Email This | Print This Print This
Cohasset -

In a joint press release this afternoon, Cohasset officials stated a 40-year-old woman who experienced a “cardiac event” during the swimming leg of Sunday’s triathlon was transported to South Shore Hospital by ALS ambulance where she was admitted and treated in the Intensive Care Unit. She is now awake and alert, officials said. Reports that she was transferred last night to a Boston Hospital have not been confirmed.

The woman was swimming during the fourth of six heats in the swim leg. Safety personnel responded to her immediately and transferred her to the beach where she was met by emergency medical personnel including an emergency room physician.

A 38-year-old man died at South Shore Hospital yesterday after being pulled from the water in the first-ever Cohasset Tri, that includes swimming, bicycling and running. He was in the first group of triathletes to begin the swim leg. Several fellow racers signaled to a nearby Harbormaster boat about the 38-year-old’s distress. Upon arrival on the beach, the victim went into cardiac arrest and CPR was immediately initiated. The man was transferred to the Advanced Life Support ambulance then driven to South Shore Hospital where resuscitation efforts continued.

“Unfortunately, the male was not resuscitated and was pronounced dead,” the press release states. Officials have not released the cause of death.

Four participants in all were pulled from the water, three of whom were transported by Advanced Life Support ambulance to South Shore Hospital. A 29-year-old male in the fifth group of racers was treated for exhaustion during the swim. He was transferred to the beach by one of the triathlon safety boats. He was awake and alert when met by emergency medical personnel including the emergency physician on the beach. He was transferred to South Shore Hospital in an ALS ambulance, was treated and released.

Another woman, who was plucked from the water, was fine, needed no medical care, and continued with the race. The names of the affected participants are being withheld at the request of the families, the press release states.

The water leg, which was conducted in six “waves” spaced five minutes apart, meaning not all the participants were in the water at the same time, was the first part of the event.

According to Fire Chief Robert Silvia a total of six people were treated during the event including two minor injuries – a blister and abrasions – that occurred in different legs of the race.

Silvia met with Police Chief James Hussey, race director Bill Burnett, and South Shore Hospital ER doctor Michael Hughes this morning (Monday) to go over yesterday’s events. They issued a formal press release Monday afternoon.

Hughes was at the race Sunday working in conjunction with the Cohasset Fire Department and paramedics from South Shore Hospital. As part of the safety plans in place, two ambulances were at the event, one from South Shore Hospital and Cohasset’s backup ambulance, which is shared with three towns. Five paramedics, one ER doctor and the fire chief were on duty.

Cohasset’s ALS ambulance, which was away on an unrelated call at the start of the event, went to the scene and transported the first victim. Hull and Hingham ambulances transported the other two.

Cohasset Harbormaster Lorrie Gibbons and three assistant harbormasters were all working the swimming part of the event, Silvia said. There were also eight kayaks and paddleboats that were organized by race officials.

The harbormaster boats responded to three of the four participants needing medical help; a private vessel working the event responded to the fourth; all were brought to the beach.

Upwards of 700 athletes participated in this first-ever Cohasset event. The water off the beach was relatively calm making for good triathlon swimming conditions. The swimming course was designed to be in water not more than nine feet, according to the Cohasset Triathlon website. The temperature of the water was around 60 degrees and many of the participants were wearing wetsuits.

Over $45,000 was raised for the Cohasset Triathlon charity, Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

And here's the Globe story:

Monday, July 9, 2007
Cohasset death 3d this year in a triathlon

By Mac Daniel, Globe Staff

The death of a 38-year-old man at the inaugural Cohasset Triathlon on Sunday was the third death in the nation this year at a sanctioned event, said officials from USA Triathlon, the sport's governing body.

One participant died in Tampa in April, and another person died three weeks ago in Missouri, said Kathy Matejka, USAT events services director. Both occurred on the swim course, as did Sunday's fatality in Cohasset. Matejka said two deaths occurred in 2006, also on the swim course.

Cohasset officials said the death appears to have been an accident. Bill Burnett, director of the Cohasset Triathlon, said event officials planned to respect the wishes of the family and were not going to identify the man who died.

Two other swimmers also had problems on the course Sunday and had to be rescued.

Triathlon is a growing sport, with many newcomers joining the ranks of the USAT, where the annual membership is expected to climb to 100,000 this summer. In 2004, USAT had 1,500 sanctioned events and surpassed 2,000 events for the first time last year.

Tragedies like the one in Cohasset are "something that's always on our mind," Matejka said.
Posted by the Boston Globe City & Region Desk at 02:21 PM

I don't know what to think about this. It's easy enough (and self-righteous as all hell) to think, well, a lot of people enter triathlons without respecting the sport, without training enough, without really thinking about the consequences. But a lot of people get kicked in the head during the swim, have seizures for no good reason, have heart attacks at totally random moments, etc.

And having struggled in the water myself, I can see where these things can happen.

My last rant: Listened to David Broder on Bob Edwards' XM show this afternoon. Edwards asked him about Gore. Broder said "there's no enthusiasm" for another Gore campaign.

WTF?

Is my confusion a function of living in The People's Republic?

I suspect if Gore came to Our Town and called for electoral jihad, he'd have it.

But my hunch is that Gore's just smart enough to know that if he runs today, he gets torn down tomorrow. And the same people who bitched and moaned and whined for him to run today would be pissed off about a dull campaign tomorrow.

Again, though, maybe that's just me.

No workout today; between the chores and the satellite issue, I'll be up late getting my eight hours of work done.

I Am Not Terribly Clever

We got up not-too-late this morning and headed to the lake. There were some pretty dark storm clouds over the mountains, but no rain. So I practiced some open-water swimming for an hour or so while Lisa showed off her Bohus sweater to passers-by. The swim wasn't too bad -- I probably did about a quarter-mile, just back and forth about 50 feet from the shore. Stuck to a sidestroke, which probably helped me from inhaling half the lake.

After a while, the clouds were moving across the lake, so Lisa took the car and I changed into my running clothes. Thought it would be a good thing to break in the new shoes (Brooks Adrenaline GTS 6).

Of course, it started raining just as I started running for home. I'd measured it on the way to the lake, and it looked like about 10 miles, but when I tried to start the Garmin, it said the battery was low. Damn.

At least the Nano didn't cave. I ran about two, two-and-a-half hours, and every last foot was uphill. I'm guessing the total distance was between 14 and 18 miles. I'll have to measure it when the Outback speedometer decides to cooperate, or when the Garmin begins functioning again.

Anyway, I got home around 5p, dehydrated and shivering. Laid down for about 30 minutes, but it didn't seem to help much. Went to the grocery and grabbed some Gatorade, bananas, ice cream and oranges. Fed the chickens and made hamburgers for the kids.

Legs are pretty damn sore tonight, but I popped a couple of Tylenol and swilled Gatorade to knock off the dehydration. Will get up in the morning and drag the Mercier to the shop to see what's up with the gears. Lot of work to do tomorrow, too.

Nada Much

Lazy days.

I'm sleeping late. Not doing a huge amount of training. Which I feel OK about. I'll do the triathlon this weekend on rested legs (and everything else). Took the bike in to get tuned today, picked up a few small things for Lisa's birthday. Got some wood to fix the chicken coop door. Grabbed a few groceries. Pecked away at day job stuff.

Likely, I'll take next week slow, too. Then off for The Hike. My hunch is that a 273-mile hike will be a pretty decent workout.

Then back in time for another triathlon, either a half-marathon or century ride (still can't decide), some serious swim/bike/run time in late August and September before the Mount Desert Marathon.

A bit on the muggy side here today, but not too bad. Rained like hell last night. It's supposed to be nice and sunny (highs in the low 80s!) on Sunday, so I may just find a flat rock by a lake and lie out like a lizard.

No. 100

It's my 100th blog post.

Whoop-de-doo.

But in really good news, I got it today -- my Mercier. It's not exactly a Red Ryder BB gun (I'd shoot my eye out!) but it looks pretty sweet. The picture below doesn't exactly do it justice; it's currently sitting on my porch, awaiting some air in the tires.



I'll fill the tires tomorrow and give it a spin.

Woke up this morning and headed east for the weekly CSA pickup:

Scallions
Snow peas
Basil (pesto, change-o!)
Parsley
Carrots
Cucumbers
Mesclun
Broccoli

Stopped by the co-op in Brattleboro for pine nuts, olive oil and miscellany. Got home and worked like a fiend until 7p or so. Stopped to make another grocery run for some kid stuff.

Interesting story today in Slate on the shrinking American newspaper. Jack Shafer says that papers today aren't all that much worse off than papers in the early 1970s. I think he might be omitting a few major issues:

(a) There were more family-owned papers in the 1970s. True, many of them sucked. But there was less external pressure on most papers to hit quarterly profit targets.

(b) Newspapers were a lot blander in the early 1970s. No color, few graphics and no multimedia. Meant there were a lot more jobs devoted to pure newsgathering, but a lot fewer jobs devoted to reader-friendly news. There were some fantastic reporters and some great storytellers, but they didn't have tools like journalists have today.

(c) Shafer's benchmark year, 1972, was at the start of Watergate, which is generally romanticized to a fare-thee-well. It was great journalism. But people forget that a ton of newspapers, including some of the best in the country, either ignored Watergate or jumped on it late.

(d) The real golden days of newspapers occurred (in my humble estimation, as a mere consumer of news) from the late 1970s through the mid-1990s. Bartlett and Steele, anyone? Computer geeks churning up fantastic databases? Yes, news organizations missed some huge stories (Iran-Contra, HUD, the savings and loan debacle) but got a lot right, and not just at the national level. I think a comparison of staffing between now and, say, 1995, would be much more fair.

(e) Finally, a very high percentage of newspapers just sucked in the 1970s. Sorry. They did. And their editors and/or publishers would tell you that. Reluctantly. But they would.

Will knit and cook tonight, hit the road tomorrow.