decisions decisions

It started simply enough. We were thinking of alternatives for our seed packing procedure. Right now, my Fellow Man uses recycled office paper, folded into a simple envelope, to hold our seeds. Folding the paper is time consuming, and the envelopes can only hold so many large seeds. Perhaps an upgrade would be in order. So we browsed the large Uline catalog that we get in the mail every so often. We found, among the staggering assortment of boxes, envelopes, bags and other useful equipment, at least three distinct possibilities. They were reasonably priced,

I flipped through the remainder of the catalog and went looking for the ordering information.

On one of the back five-hundred-and-something pages, I found a letter from the Uline president. Aside from a nice paragraph about the new family dog, she expressed her sadness and anger about the Boston marathon terrorist attacks, and then went on to link the attacks to the importance of developing energy independence in North America. Her concern for the issue led her to visit the Bakken Oil Fields in North Dakota and the tar sands of Fort McMurray in Alberta, Canada. She closed with an enthusiastic statement of support for the Keystone pipeline.

I was stunned. I couldn’t place the order. I’ll help Paul fold envelopes instead. Thinking through my reaction has been a lengthy process.

There is absolutely nothing about tar sands oil that I can support. OK, maybe jobs, though I would be sad to pack myself up for work in Fort McMurray every day. Tar sand oil is dirty expensive oil. The science of how they pull oil from the sands is beyond me, but I don’t have to look far beyond the boon of extra oil production to see that there are problems inherent in the process.

The same goes for high volume slick water hydraulic fracturing (“fracking” for short). There are shale oil wells being drilled 10,000 feet below the earth’s surface. At that depth, the drill is somehow turned sideways, and carries on, horizontally, for miles. Something like five million gallons of water are forced, at very high pressure, into the well. Some of that water gets left down there. At least a million gallons comes back up, loaded with carcinogens and sometimes radiation. There are methods for disposing of that water, but you know what? It’s still water. That’s what we drink and use to clean and cook. Without clean water we cannot live. It falls from the sky and most eight year old children can tell you that the water cycle is closed system. The natural filtration system of the earth cleans the water as well as it can, over and over and over, but evaporation is only good for so much. Tens of thousands of these wells are made each year. How much water is going down these holes and coming back up in an undesirable form? The number is large but, let’s just leave it at A LOT.levon eating

Again, the science is amazing, but the overall cost is tremendous. If our economy allowed for any kind of reckoning for ecological costs associated with energy production, tar sands and fracking would be off the table.

It comes down to choices. We all make them every day, lots of them. I choose clean water and air over natural gas and crude oil, this time. But not all choices are so clear, and it’s much easier not to think about them.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m far from perfect. I’m still driving a car, and we use a tractor, a weed-eater, and a lawnmower. There is plastic in our house, and even though our homestead is off the grid, we still rely on a freezer plugged in at my gracious mother’s house in town. My three year old plays with legos and is obsessed with all that has wheels. And even though we do so much of our own work – growing and preparing food, building and repairing our own machines as often as possible, self-reliance is a limited concept. Cooperative inter-dependence is more realistic. We must rely on each other, as neighbors, and more recently, as a global community.

Because of this, I don’t want the choices I make to become divisive or overly emotional. Just because I don’t agree with the Uline company’s stated philosophy about energy independence doesn’t mean I bear them a personal grudge. It’s not US and THEM. We all share the water, the air, this planet, and therefore we all share the consequences of our actions, collective and individual in conglomerate. And each of us is deciding, all the time, how we use our share.peak1

Often, these days, our everyday decisions are made, not with concrete materials of a trade, or the making of daily bread, but with money. It can be difficult to make choices with money. Financial scarcity, real and perceived, is rampant. The perception that money IS wealth is a giant shimmering mirage that so easily sways our thoughts, feelings, and actions. It seems like the Bhutanese are proving the point with their “Gross National Happiness” measurements. We don’t have an official measurement of our happiness, but we are a wealthy nation on a lot of anti-depressants. No one ever feels like they have enough, and mostly we all want a “good deal”, “more bang for the buck” and the like. But, like so many things in life, it’s not how much we have, but what we make of it that counts. How we spend our financial resources, especially when on a budget, can be the most potent statement of our values, whether we know it or not.

Our little family business is so small. We don’t register as a speck to the Department of Labor or Agriculture. But we’re here, offering our services, using resources, and making choices. Uline will never miss the tiny bit of money we might have spent there. And my choice to not buy from them isn’t a personal attack on them. It’s just choosing to move our financial energy in a direction that builds a world we want to live in. By buying seed envelopes from a business that values and practices environmental responsibility, even if the cost is greater, we are choosing to invest in a different path into the future. It’s our tiny little drop in the ocean, and it still counts. I can’t claim that all of our economic choices are made so consciously. But sometimes a flag gets waved in your face, and you just have to think something through. I can thank Uline for that.

As they say in Economics 101, “there’s no such thing as a free lunch”. Extracting oil at high costs and building huge pipelines to move it around, serves to distract us from getting smart about using LESS, not making MORE. When our economy doesn’t account for ecological costs we are essentially deferring that payment for a later date. It is a payment that will one day come due. Most likely the children and grandchildren of the current generations will be the ones paying then. I would much rather pay more now than impoverish them later. I don’t think I’m alone in that sentiment.sunflower peek

And I don’t think that the payments we make now need to be so difficult. One of my problems with the whole race-to-the-bottom going on in the wide world of resource extraction and energy production is that it represents a gigantic failure of imagination. With all of our amazing innovations in science and engineering, why can’t we see outside the paradigm of fossil fuels? (I suspect the answer lies in that fickle money mirage.) Likewise, can we not find or create meaningful work for our people that doesn’t involve destroying our life-support system? I am not a scientist or an engineer. I don’t claim to have answers, but I believe that better answers are possible. I like to think creatively, and I believe that we humans are capable of wonderful adaptation and creation.

Surely we can rise above this fray. It’s not people for jobs vs. people for the environment. It’s not Democrats vs. Republicans, Old vs. Young, or Rich vs. Poor. It’s people, all of us, trying to live our lives in a rich and meaningful way. People, making choices. We all want good lives, and beautiful futures for our families. Our true enemies are ignorance and fear.  Not Canadian tar sands, shale oil, pipelines, or money.  The sooner we realize that, the better.getaway

I have purposefully avoided making many statements about the science and numbers around resource extraction. I’d hate to mis-quote and mislead anyone. Huge amounts of information are available about the oilsands and Fracking, if you want to learn more. These are some of the stories I’ve referrenced:

Letter from Liz, Uline’s president –

“The Whole Fracking Enchilada” by Sandra Steingraber in Orion Magazine – plus the interesting discussion, 186 comments long, with only one (that I found) defending the fracking industry. –

“Oilsands Tailings Seeping into Groundwater, Athabasca River: Federal Study” by the Canadian Press, with more links on the Huffington Post:

“The New Oil Landscape” by Edwin Dobb, published in National Geographic Magazine, March 2013 –

The Union of Concerned Scientists also has some good articles. Here’s one:

I honestly believe that the future is going to be millions of little things saving us. I imagine a big seesaw, and at one end of this seesaw is on the ground with a basket half-full of big rocks in it. The other end of the seesaw is up in the air. It’s got a basket one-quarter full of sand. And some of us got teaspoons, and we’re trying to fill up sand. A lot of people are laughing at us, and they say, “Ah, people like you have been trying to do that for thousands of years, and it’s leaking out as fast as you’re putting it in.” But we’re saying, “We’re getting more people with teaspoons all the time.” And we think, “One of these years, you’ll see that whole seesaw go zooop in the other direction.” And people will say, “Gee, how did it happen so suddenly?” Us and all our little teaspoons…” – Pete Seeger


It has been a wet spring. Water just keeps falling down from the sky… water in the form of rain, rain, rain! The weeds in the garden are getting a good hold right now and still the rain comes. But I’m not complaining, and I’m not going to. I will cherish all of this water especially as my thoughts drift to the conditions of one year ago: intense heat and no rain.IMG_2564

Precious rain water is what makes our gardens grow, after all. We rely only on the rain that falls from the sky to keep our gardens lush and verdant. We have never irrigated our gardens, and we don’t ever intend to. I suppose we might if conditions were desperate, but even with last year’s drought and heat wave, we fared ok. Our objective is to keep our garden soils full of organic matter so that they have the capacity to hold more water. Instead of spending our dollars on plastic irrigation pipes, we choose to spend them on straw or hay to use as mulch, to keep all of the soil’s moisture protected by a blanket of organic matter, which will decompose and nourish the soil.IMG_3016

But whenever the soil conditions in the garden are too wet to accomplish anything but sinking deep in the mud and doing more harm than good, we look for other things to keep our busy selves occupied. I often find myself puttering around the house trying to regain a bit of order from the neglected messes left in the wake of a busy spring. If the house is somehow in a state of cleanliness, I have been sitting down to my spinning wheel. The stir-craziness of indoor time subsides as soon as I sit down and feel the wool in my hands, my feet keeping time. Eric often finds inspiration to tackle a building project (as long as it is not pouring, in which case he finds a good book.) Right now, he’s working on extending the overhang on our outdoor kitchen (“the pavilion”) so that when we have lots of rain like we’re having now, we can still sit in the porch swing and not get dripped on. On one side of the pavilion is the kiwi trellis, so while he was working on the overhang it made perfect sense to tackle that unfinished project as well. And for the first time ever, the vines have set fruit… even more reason for a proper trellis.  IMG_3114Ira knows that when it’s raining the fish are biting so, not dissuaded by getting wet, he heads on down to the creek to catch what he will. It’s all good to Ira… be it a two-inch long baby gar or a two-foot long small mouth bass, each is a treasure from the water that he cherishes. The girls tend to hang with mama in the house during wet spells, playing and reading and making things. We’ve just inherited a couple of pairs of roller skates from some dear friends, so our house has become a roller rink for princesses during all of this rain. Quite amusing.IMG_3089Water courses through this farm like blood in veins. Sometimes when the branch (local term for stream) in front of the house is dry and we get a sudden downpour, we can watch the wall of water moving down the rocky stream bed, towards the big creek. It’s a fascinating thing to watch. From the vantage point of our rocking chairs on the deck, we’ve seen the water turn from an absolutely raging torrent to a giant still pool as the big creek spills it’s banks and all of the water flowing past our house backs up, having no choice but to sit still and wait for the chance to flow again.IMG_3100

We harvest and harness all sorts of water on this farm, from the hydraulic ram pump that Eric built to service the livestock’s water needs (using the force of gravity to make water flow uphill), to the gravity-fed spring water system that services our household water needs, to the thermo-siphon system that circulates through our wood cook stove to give us the luxury of hot-running water in the house, to the black painted barrels full of water in the greenhouse to help stabilize the air temperatures within. We have given lots of thought to water.IMG_3130

And now, after a warm and sunny day (finally… but remember, I’m not complaining!) filled to the brim with work and chores and sweat and dirt, my thoughts are drifting to a big glass of cool spring water and a refreshing dip in the creek. Have I mentioned that I love water?

(And for a little more reading on the topic of water, check out the current issue of Taproot magazine…)