The worst of the cold weather is probably behind us, as spring approaches. The sun is out, and thoughts once again turn to the garden. It’s timely to review: how did our solarium perform over the short days and freezing nights of winter?

Adding thermal mass proved not to be enough to protect tender plants if outside temperatures dropped below ~25°. For the coldest nights, we needed to come up with a supplementary heat source. We use brooder lamps for ducklings. Why wouldn’t the same concept work for plants?

Electricity was the primary problem: a source wasn’t readily available, and providing a permanent hookup didn’t seem worth the cost or effort since power was needed only a few nights out of the year. So I wired an outlet at the solarium ceiling for two heat lamps to hang above our most sensitive citrus, an Improved Meyer Lemon and an Owari Satsuma Mandarin from One Green World that we planted right in the ground.

Power is provided when needed by plugging as extension cord into a male receptacle in a weatherproof exterior “inlet”.

This system works so well that we’ve moved into the solarium all of the cold-sensitive plants that we previously overwintered in the greenhouse. Space is at a premium in this 7? x 7? structure, so we’ve had to be inventive. Around the Yuzu Ichandrin, we installed shelving for pots . . .

. . . and above, a piece of ¾” pipe serves to hang containers.

Staggering the height of the plants allows more to be squeezed in along the pipe.

In the ground within the solarium, we’ve been growing herbs all winter long, herbs that otherwise wouldn’t grow in winter: cilantro, parsley, and an herb form of celery.

Fresh “cutting” or “soup” celery is great to have in the garden as celery, along with carrots and onions, are the three essential aromatic vegetables used in making stocks and sauces. Buying a whole head of celery in the store is wasteful. Although a good market will let you buy one stalk at a time, we’re a long way from a market. So keeping fresh celery on hand would otherwise be a challenge. Now all we have to do when celery is called for is wander outside -  with the solarium, any time of the year – pluck a few stalks, and tie them together with other herbs in a bouquet garni. Nichols has the seeds: VCE185, Afina. Plant seeds once, and from then on the celery will self-seed prolifically.

An added benefit: as long as I was wiring the solarium, I installed an outlet in the adjacent greenhouse to provide power for a heat mat. A heat mat will enable us to begin sprouting seeds in early February, a month earlier than would otherwise be possible. So it’s now time to begin perusing the seed catalogs and planning for spring plantings. Nichols and Territorial, here we come!

After a barren spell in November, our Muscovy ducks are laying again. Keeping a light on in the duck shed until 10:00 every night seems to have made a difference, as they began laying again shortly after we began that regimen.

Some of the ducks are content to lay in the duck shed. When we open the doors to let the ducks out in the morning (having been shut in over night to protect them from predators) there the eggs are, in the nests the ducks nestle into the straw in the corners of the shed. All we have to do is bend down and pick them up.

For other ducks, laying their eggs in the duck shed simply won’t do. So they seek out less convenient places. Some locations become semi-permanent, and they revisit them regularly: underneath the outdoor workbench behind the potting soil containers, behind the garbage and recycling cans, underneath the tarp covering the compost pile.

A few hens, however, are really secretive. They don’t want you to know where they are laying their eggs, and if you discover one location they tend to abandon it and find yet another. When the duck shed door is opened in the morning these secretive hens set off: alone, determined, and with a purpose. If you want to find their eggs, you have to follow them, and do so carefully and innocuously.  If they see they’re being followed, they will abort their clandestine mission. And if you divert your attention for just a moment they can vanish, disappearing into the brush.

Meet one of our surreptitious hens.

After watching this hen for several mornings I finally succeeded in tracing her to her nest right in the middle of a pile of brush and prunings waiting to be burned. And I do mean right in the middle. I had to carve my way in, using hand shears to tunnel a passageway through the bramble. Stretched out flat on my belly with only my ankles hanging out, I retrieved eight eggs.

Crawling on my belly like a reptile to find eggs simply wouldn’t do. I set a torch to that pile. She’ll never use that nest again.

The next day, that hen once more set out for her burn pile. What few coals remained of that pile were still smoldering. She circled it again and again, repeatedly coming back to and stopping at what had been her entrance. You could almost see her scratching her head: what the hell happened here?

Still, every morning she’s setting off towards where her burn pile used to be. There’s got to be a new nest. One morning I’m trying to follow two hens. Our burn pile hen disappears behind a copse of trees and brush. I rush to see where she’s gone. Damn, lost them both!

This morning, she’s off again. I’m keeping a loose tail. When I see her round that copse, I high-tail it over there. She sees me, pretends she’s just out on a stroll. But I’ve seen where she’s been looking, where she was headed.

That’s an abandoned wood rat mound, next to an old, rotting Douglas-fir stump. A little searching, and there it is, nestled under and inside the wood rat mound: her latest nest, containing a half a dozen eggs.

Another victory, albeit temporary. Tomorrow the game begins anew.

When you buy a whole or a half lamb from a local farmer, it’s not like going to the supermarket where you can pick out the exact cut you want, whether it be shoulder chops, loin chops, or a leg. Around here, you’re lucky to find a store that carries any lamb at all. In the mid-valley, the nearest place to buy a choice cut like a leg or a rack is probably Corvallis, at an upscale market such as Market of Choice.

When you buy local locker lamb, (half or whole) you get everything – from the neck to the shanks. You have to know how to cook the various cuts, as they each demand to be treated differently. And when it comes to an valuable cut like a rack, you don’t want to ruin it. Unlike a rack you buy at a market that’s been trimmed by a butcher, you cannot simply throw it in the oven and roast it. The rack has to be prepped for cooking first. If your rack comes wrapped in white paper from your local slaughterhouse, you have to prep it yourself.

A rack of lamb comes with a thick layer of fat across the back.

You have to take that layer of fat off. Leave it on and the rack will be impossible to cook properly. What’s more, the result will be a rack that is difficult to cut and serve; and the meat will be drenched in excess, unpleasant-tasting fat.

Fortunately, removing the layer of fat is easy. Simply grab it by one corner and rip it off – it comes off in one piece.  Begin by separating the fat from the meat with a knife at a corner, then pull on the fat, continuing to cut between the fat and the meat with a knife as necessary as you pull the fat off.

Now doesn’t that look better?

There’s some meat embedded within that layer of fat that shouldn’t be wasted. Trim it out rather than throwing it away.

There’s more . . .

You’ll end up with a nicely trimmed rack, a little pile of lamb meat – enough for maybe a soup or a burrito or a stir fry – and a big chunk of fat to be thrown out.

If you want, you can cut out a little of the meat between the rib bones, leaving little bone handles to grab onto when eating. Add that meat to your pile of saved meat trimmings.

We’ve trained our butcher to cut off the chine bone, and he mostly gets it right. With the chine bone off, it’s a simple thing to cut between the ribs, carving off individual chops for serving when the rack is done. If the chine bone is left on the rack, this is impossible – so you have to make sure the chine bone is removed completely at this stage. If some of it is still there you’d best cut it off. A hacksaw works. The picture above shows the chine bone properly removed.

Now the rack is almost ready for roasting. Rub it with sea salt and freshly crushed pepper. Chop up a clove of garlic or two, and the leaves from a nice sprig of rosemary. Put in a bowl with a teaspoon of prepared stone-ground mustard and a splash of red wine.  Whisk in an ounce or so of olive oil. Coat the rack on all sides with the marinade and let sit at room temperature for a while, until you’re ready to pop it in the oven.

Roast the rack in a pre-heated 450° oven for 20 minutes or so, or until the internal temperature reaches 116° (check with an instant-reading thermometer).  Do not overcook! Rack of lamb should be served rare. Remove the rack to a serving dish and let it rest for a few minutes while you get the rest of the meal on the table and prepare the sauce. The sauce can be really simple -deglaze the roasting pan with a healthy splash of red wine, scraping up all the tasty brown bits.  Carve the rack, cutting between and separating the individual riblets. Pour the sauce around the rack and serve.

Bon Appétit!

Thursday morning (January 5), our first lambs of the season were born, twins – a male and a female. At first, things looked to be going fine. Each was strong and healthy, although the male was a bit bigger than the female; and mama was feeding both. But Friday evening, we noticed that mama was no longer holding still for the female to let her feed. She was now markedly smaller than the male, who had been growing and putting on weight. She was looking weak. If we didn’t do something, she wasn’t going to make it.

Irina fixed a self-feeding bottle for her, but milk replacer is not a satisfactory solution. Even if you can get the lamb to drink from the bottle and feed itself, formula just isn’t nearly as good as mother’s milk. Lambs don’t grow as much or as fast, and they never catch up from a slow start to become big, healthy adult sheep.

That night, I dreamt of sheep grooming stands. The headpiece would hold mama still while our little black lamb snuck in and suckled to her heart’s content. Next morning, I went straight to the computer and googled “sheep grooming stand”, looking for inspiration. This design I found promising:

The concept is simple, the device quick and easy to use, and effective. Kind of like “stocks” for recalcitrant livestock.

So first thing Saturday morning I went to work, using scrap lumber and remnants of a dismantled dish antenna. The device was designed to be installed in the railings separating the two pens so as to be usable from either pen. It was ready to be put into service right after lunch.

Mama may not be happy, but baby sure is. Five times a day, Malingering Mama is in lockdown for nursing.

Results were immediate. She’s strong and healthy again, and quickly catching up to her brother.

Sunday morning, we woke up to a bit of a hullabaloo. Four new lambs were scattered about the yard, two white and two black. Lambs were bawling, mamas were baaing. We gathered up the lambs from the mud, cleaned them up, then set out to sort things out, figure out who belonged to whom.

Finding the mamas was pretty straightforward. Pick up the lambs, put them in the lambing pens, and the mamas should follow. That part went smoothly. Problem was, we only had one open lambing pen. The other was occupied by Malingering Mama – if she was minding her young ones properly, she could instead be let out with the flock. Crammed into a single pen, the new mamas were butting each other. Little lambs were flying. So we had to quickly erect an emergency, auxiliary pen and separate the combatants. Then came the hard part: which lambs belonged with which mama? After careful watching, seeing who was being fed by whom, Irina finally figured out the highly improbable solution: one mama had had triplets, all female, two white and one black; the other, a single female.

So at the moment, all is calm in the sheep shed.

This morning (January 10), Malingering Mama was observed freely feeding her female lamb, without being restrained. Maybe she was just suffering from a bout of post-partum depression. A release date is pending, depending on continued good behavior.

Last spring you planted cabbage seeds; then transplanted the seedlings out to the garden; watered and tended the cabbage plants all summer; harvested the cabbage heads in the fall; shredded and salted the cabbage and pressed it in a big crock.

It’s December, you’ve got a hundred pounds of sauerkraut sitting in the cellar. Now what? How often can you stomach sauerkraut with sausage?

We’ve found that we really like sauerkraut prepared with a variety of meats: pork belly, sausage, ribs of all kinds – pork, beef, lamb – and poultry, especially duck. Duck hindquarters work well, as they are best braised. The other day non-pork eating friends visitd. Sauerkraut with our own Muscovy duck seemed the perfect treat.

Since there were to be eight of us, we used the wings as well as the hindquarters, to ensure we had enough meat to go around.

Sauerkraut with Muscovy Duck

1.5 liters sauerkraut
2 Muscovy ducks
2  medium onions, diced (we substituted leeks)
1 apple, peeled and diced
12 juniper berries, crushed
2 whole cloves
1 small bit nutmeg, crushed
2 bay leaves
1 C duck stock (chicken stock, if you don’t have duck stock)
1 C white wine
Salt and pepper to taste

Rinse sauerkraut well (three times in fresh water) and drain.
Cut wings and hindquarters off carcass. Remove duck breasts and save for another meal. Reserve duck carcass for stock or soup. Trim duck fat and save.
Trim upper part of wing from lower 2/3, reserving middle part and wing tip for soup or stock. Separate leg from thigh; chop thigh into two pieces.
Render duck fat.
Brown duck pieces; when browned, remove.
Add diced onions and cook, stirring, until softened.
Add apple and cook a bit, then sauerkraut. Cook for  a few minutes, stirring.
Splash with white wine; add stock, then browned duck pieces, bay leaf, juniper berries, cloves and nutmeg.
Bring to simmer and cook, covered, for 1½ hours or until duck is tender. Season to taste.
Serve with mashed potatoes and a nice little pinot noir.

Here’s the finished product.

This recipe would work equally well with a stewing chicken, game hens, or a small turkey, and would be even tastier with the addition of some pork or sausage. The possible permutations are endless, offering myriad ways to enjoy your summer garden all winter long.

My sister complained that last week’s missive didn’t have any Thanksgiving photos. Hey, gimme a break – I was trying to get the newsletter out before the event. Anyhow, here you go, Peg!

Here’s the noble bird, before being sliced and served.

That’s a 20 pound, free range turkey from Joe and Karen’s Rain Shadow El Rancho, processed right on site at their own facility that does poultry other area producers as well (including our ducks). The turkey was Joe and Karen’s contribution to the dinner. Isn’t it wonderful to be part of a great community?

The photo shows the beer drinkers’ table. As you can see the beer is pretty local – Deschutes Brewery Black Butte Porter from just over the hill in Bend, smooth and creamy, perfect on a cold day while relaxing snug and toasty by the wood stove. Never fear, the La Ferme Noire Pinot Noir was flowing freely as well.

Each of the 20 guests brought something – in particular, I thought Kim’s chocolate chili was killer, even if it’s not what one might associate with Thanksgiving. It deserves to become a La Ferme Noire tradition – we’ll have to ask Kim for the recipe.

Irina made the beautiful orange soup in the photo.

AUTUMN SQUASH BISQUE WITH GINGER

Ingredients

2 tsp vegetable oil
2 cups sliced onion or leek
2 pounds winter squash, peeled, seeded and cut into 2 inch cubes (= 4 generous cups)
2 pears peeled, cored & diced
2 gloves garlic, peeled and crushed
2 tbsp fresh ginger, peeled and coarsely chopped (or 1 tsp powdered ginger)
½ tsp thyme
4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup water
1 tbsp lemon juice
½ cup plain non-fat yogurt (Greek yogurt is best)
Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation

1. Heat oil in large pot over medium heat
2. Add onions (leeks) and garlic and cook, stirring constantly until softened, 3-4 minutes
3. Add squash, pears, ginger and thyme, cook for 1 minute, stirring
4. Add broth and water; bring to a simmer
5. Reduce heat to low, cover pot and simmer until squash is tender, 35-45 minutes
6. Purée soup, if necessary in batches, in a food processor or blender
7. Return soup to pot and heat through. Season with salt, pepper and lemon juice; stir
8. Garnish each serving with a spoonful of yogurt

My contribution was to cook the turkey. Here’s how:

Two or three days before cooking:

1. Trim off wing tips, the neck, and Pope’s nose.
2. Dry  turkey inside and out and rub skin and cavity with a mixture of about 2 T coarse sea salt and 1 T of freshly crushed black peppercorns.
3. Put turkey on a rack inside a pan and then uncovered into the refrigerator to dry (this helps the skin to turn crispy during roasting).
4. Right then make the sauce. Throw turkey trimmings and giblets into a roasting pan, along with coarsely chopped carrots, celery, and onion.
5. Roast in a hot (~400°) oven until well browned and caramelized.
6. When turkey bits and vegetables are all well browned, removes from oven and place roasting pan on a burner. Splash in about a quarter bottle of dry white wine (an open bottle of pinot gris was handy) and scrape brown bits off the bottom of the pan with wooden spoon until they are dissolved in liquid.
7. Add chicken or other poultry stock (we had a couple of containers of chicken and duck stock in the freezer – a good quality store-bought stock such as Kirkland is okay, too) until turkey parts and vegetables are immersed and you have enough liquid for your sauce.
8. Add herbs and spices:  parsley, thyme, and bay leaf from the garden, a couple of whole cloves, perhaps a piece of star anise.
9. Bring to a boil and simmer for three hours or so.
10. Strain through a colander into another container and let cool.
11. When settled, spoon off the fat layer on top.
12. Refrigerate stock until ready to use. Having the stock finished on Monday means a lot less fussing when company is around on Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving Day:

1. Take turkey out of the refrigerator in the morning to warm to room temperature before going into the oven.
2. About two hours before serving place turkey, breast-down, on a rack in a roasting pan. Add ~two cups of prepared stock. Put into a pre-heated 450° oven, immediately reducing heat to 375°.
3. 45 minutes later, flip the turkey so it’s breast-side up.
4. About an hour and a half after going into the oven, the turkey will be done. An instant reading thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the flesh where the thigh connects with the body should register 150°. The result: a beautifully browned, tender, moist, and juicy bird.
5. Remove turkey to a warm platter and cover loosely.
6. While the bird rests a bit before slicing, bring the prepared stock and juices from roasting pan to a simmer.
7. Thicken sauce (I like to thicken with corn starch rather than flour – it’s easier to control and I think results in a more refined texture). Put a couple of heaping fork fulls of corn starch into a small container, add cold water, whisk with a fork until dissolved, then drizzle into the simmering stock while stirring. Let cook a couple of minutes until stock thickens.  Repeat until you get the texture you want.
8. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

For ease of carving and serving I first remove the hindquarters from the carcass, and then each breast in one piece.

Then the turkey is a snap to slice. You had to be quick: all the dark meat disappeared first.

And of course we had plenty of Irina’s famous bread, fresh, warm, and crusty from the oven.

Party animals that we all are these days, we had cleaned up and were in bed by nine.

The next day, the turkey carcass and all the leftover bones and trimmings went into the stock pot, along with aromatic vegetables (carrots, onions, and celery), fresh herbs (thyme, parsley, bay leaf), and a couple of whole cloves. A couple or three hours later, I strained the stock, set the bones aside to cool a bit, and put the stock back on the stove. I added a handful of barley (grown by our friends Paul and Nonie), sliced leeks, and diced carrots and turnips, all from the garden. When the turkey bones had cooled enough, I picked off the meat and added that to the pot, and then some diced potatoes. Simmer a bit more, until the potatoes are tender. Et voila! Turkey soup!

We’re now in to December, and we’re still harvesting broccoli, Brussels sprouts, and cauliflower from the garden – in fact, we have a new crop coming on, from the seedlings we transplanted out in August.

It’s pretty nice not to be dependent on the supermarket for vegetables, even in December. And really nice not to have to drive, or to travel at all, to get them. They’re right outside the door, fresh as can be.

Niko, harvest crew foreman

. . . thanks to the noble efforts of our volunteer pickers.

Pickers, hard at work

The picked grapes were immediately dumped into the stemmer-crusher, the juice and pulp falling directly into fermentation tanks (32-gallon food-grade plastic containers).

George ensures everything is done right.

The picking was done before noon, culminating in the harvest celebration.

Yield was about 1800 pounds, pretty light for our acre of Pinot Noir – but not bad, considering the weird weather this year. Sugars came in a little under 19° Brix – the lowest we’ve ever seen, but we were thankful to get any grapes at all. About 25 pounds of sugar brought the Brix up to ~21°. The grapes are now bubbling away in the shop (which temporarily serves as the fermentation room).

Punching down the cap

The cap, formed of skins and pulp, must be punched down twice a day, to maximize color and flavor extraction (the red color of almost all red wines comes from the skins, not the pulp) and to minimize the risk of oxidation. Fermentation will take three to four weeks. Six fermentation tanks holding ~25 gallons each will yield enough wine to fill two 60-gallon oak barrels. That should get us through a couple more years.

Once the grapes were in, attention turned to other essential farm tasks – like managing manure. The sheep shed needed to be cleaned out in preparation for winter.

From foreman to shit shoveler

The manure-infused straw is piled high to begin composting.

Ducks feast on unearthed worms and insects.

After about six months, the compost pile is ready to be moved and in the process, turned. The pile below was started about six months ago.

This pile will now be covered with a tarp to keep it from getting soggy during the winter months. By next spring, the straw and manure will have transformed into rich and beautifully textured soil, ready to be worked into the garden beds.

Then we start all over again.

A study by Lieutenant Colonel Christopher Fleming at the U.S. Army War College concludes the volatility we’ve seen in oil prices and the lack of increased production as a response to high prices is evidence that we’re hitting geological limits to global oil production.

The excerpt below is from the abstract of the study “Considering oil production variance as an indicator of peak production“:

The primary finding was unprecedented statistical variance in oil production rates as well as in oil prices beginning approximately 2005 to 2010. In the case of oil production rates, variance is at historically low levels. In the case of oil prices, variance is at historically high levels. The data indicate a new higher order of inelasticity between oil price and oil production.

These findings support peak oil forecasts in the range of 2005 to 2010 and together provide strong evidence that geological factors could presently be limiting world oil production.

The inelasticity between oil price and oil production Fleming talks about is evidenced by the wild swings in oil prices over the last six years, as seen in this graph posted by Stuart Staniford at Early Warning . . .

. . . while the lack of response from oil producers can be seen in this graph posted by Gail Tverberg at Our Finite World showing production from the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) since 1965.

MENA Monthly crude oil production, based on EIA data.

MENA’s oil consumption is rising, so even if MENA’s oil production could rise, that does not mean that oil exports would rise. For example, Saudi Aramco projects Saudi Arabia’s domestic consumption will reach an equivalent of 8.3 million barrels by 2028, more than double the 3.4 million barrels equivalent in 2009 – leaving precious little for export.

Ecological economist David Stern recently published a paper on the essential role of energy in economic growth, aptly titled ‘The Role of Energy in Economic Growth“. Stern observes that mainstream economic theory pays no attention to the role of energy; however, physics shows that energy is necessary for economic production and, therefore, economic growth. The “synthesis” model proposed by Stern explains the industrial revolution as a releasing of the constraints on economic growth due to the development of methods of using coal and the discovery of new fossil fuel resources.

Climate considerations aside, for business as usual – the continuation of economic growth – it’s bad enough that the world is bumping up against limits to oil production volume; however, the energy returned on energy investmen (EROI) is dropping, too – it’s costing more and more energy to produce the same amount of oil. A new study titled “A New Long Term Assessment of Energy Return on Investment (EROI) for U.S. Oil and Gas Discovery and Production” finds:

EROI for finding oil and gas decreased exponentially from 1200:1 in 1919 to 5:1 in 2007. The EROI for production of the oil and gas industry was about 20:1 from 1919 to 1972, declined to about 8:1 in 1982 when peak drilling occurred, recovered to about 17:1 from 1986–2002 and declined sharply to about 11:1 in the mid to late 2000s. The slowly declining secular trend has been partly masked by changing effort: the lower the intensity of drilling, the higher the EROI compared to the secular trend. Fuel consumption within the oil and gas industry grew continuously from 1919 through the early 1980s, declined in the mid-1990s, and has increased recently, not surprisingly linked to the increased cost of finding and extracting oil.

A new paper by economist James Hamilton titled Oil Prices, Exhaustible Resources, and Economic Growth documents that a key feature of the historical growth in production has been exploitation of new geographic areas rather than application of better technology to existing sources, and suggests that the end of that era is nigh. Hamilton shows that economic dislocations have historically followed temporary oil supply disruptions.  He concludes:

If the peaking of global production results in further big increases in the price of oil . . . the economic consequences of reduced energy use would have to be significant.

* * *

If the future decades look like the last 5 years, we are in for a rough time.

Most economists view the economic growth of the last century and a half as being fueled by ongoing technological progress. Without question, that progress has been most impressive. But there may also have been an important component of luck in terms of finding and exploiting a resource that was extremely valuable and useful but ultimately finite and exhaustible. It is not clear how easy it will be to adapt to the end of that era of good fortune.

Tom Murphy writes that we now find ourselves in an energy trap.

In brief, the idea is that once we enter a decline phase in fossil fuel availability—first in petroleum—our growth-based economic system will struggle to cope with a contraction of its very lifeblood. Fuel prices will skyrocket, some individuals and exporting nations will react by hoarding, and energy scarcity will quickly become the new norm. The invisible hand of the market will slap us silly demanding a new energy infrastructure based on non-fossil solutions. But here’s the rub. The construction of that shiny new infrastructure requires not just money, but . . . energy. And that’s the very commodity in short supply. Will we really be willing to sacrifice additional energy in the short term—effectively steepening the decline—for a long-term energy plan? It’s a trap!

A rough time, indeed. Effectively coming to grips with this new reality won’t be from the top down; it’s futile to look for or expect political solutions. Rather, doing so will require the kind of “magic” that begins with the individual, and works outward from there. It’s not the solution that matters, but the journey. We are all capable of taking that first step.

The needed miracle has happened: our grapes are finally ripening.

Although the weather hasn’t exactly been hot and sunny, days have been warm even when overcast, and it hasn’t rained all that much. Persistent cloud cover has kept temperatures up at night.  While we probably won’t end up with the 21° Brix we’d like to see, we should come close and the grapes will be plenty ripe enough to make good wine, even if we have to chapitalize a bit. It’s a good thing, too – all the barrels in our cellar are empty.

Now all that’s left is to fight off the birds and yellowjackets for a few more days. The propane cannon is booming every fifteen minutes or so . . .

and Niko, our house guest from Germany, is on vineyard patrol.

Where’s that wascally wobin?

I’ve been monitoring temperatures inside the solarium since it’s been finished. During the day, temperatures have consistently been 10-15 degrees warmer than outside, even when cloudy. I was surprised to see inside temperatures falling at night to as low as outside temperatures. Since the main objective of the solarium is to provide some frost protection, that was a little troubling. So we added thermal mass, to better hold warmth during the night.

The tubes are 8? PVC, cut from two 20? lengths into five approximately 8? lengths (the shorter pipe is two 4? lengths glued together, which loses a foot). Caps are glued on the bottom and just slipped over the top. The tubes are filled with water, with Rim Guard added as an anti-freeze (Rim Guard is a non-toxic, agricultural byproduct of sugar beet processing, normally used for ballast in tractor tires – it looks and smells like molasses).

After installation of the tubes, I’ve noted low temperatures inside the solarium remaining 2-3 degrees warmer than outside low temperatures at night, which is getting close to the additional warmth we need to protect our tenderest plants during the coldest of cold spells. Our coldest nights come on clear, crisp days when the sun shines brightly, which should allow the tubes to absorb plenty of heat. This winter will reveal how the solarium performs under those conditions.

IEAs chief economist Fatih Birol, speaking at a conference in London, said that the oil import bill in Europe, the U.S. and Japan is close to the level hit in 2008, when high prices were a contributing factor in the severe recession. Birol noted that when expenditures on oil rise to around 5% of gross domestic product, it has historically caused economic problems. He then warned:

Today with a more than $100 oil price, we are close to that 5% hurdle.

Birol said that of all the economies in the Organization of Economic Cooperation and Development, the U.S. is most vulnerable to high oil prices.

Although oil prices have not yet approached the $147/barrel mark hit briefly in 2008, the total OECD oil import bill for 2011 is close to that of 2008. Brent crude is up again, hitting $113/barrel earlier this week, an increase of nearly $14 a barrel over last week’s lows. WTI prices have recently been hovering around $86 a barrel. The spread between Brent and WTI this week widened again to $25.79 a barrel, only a dollar below the record high of $26.87 set on September 26th.

One sign that global oil production has hit a plateau is that crude oil production is no longer responsive to price signals, as seen in this chart posted by Gail Tverberg at Our Finite World.

Robert Hirsch (of Hirsch Report fame) observes that global oil production has been on a plateau for the last seven years, fluctuating within a 6% range. He expects production to continue to fluctuate within a narrow range for another 1-4 years, and then to transition into decline.

Tom Whipple at the Falls Church News-Press writes that the ongoing and intractable European debt crisis is a symptom of the depletion of cheap oil. The European economies – and economies of the rest of the OECD, and especially the U.S. – are, for the foreseeable future, likely to contract under the weight of expensive energy. Bailouts and recapitalizations will prove futile, serving only to transfer more wealth from taxpayers to the rich and powerful, especially the banksters.

While global economies might take a hit from high oil prices, that won’t do much to postpone the inevitable decline in global oil production. Hirsch calculates that even a decline of a few million barrels per day in world oil consumption would result in a relatively small delay in the onset of world oil production decline.

Kurt Cobb observes it’s hard to imagine a future that is different from the recent past – for most people, perhaps an insuperable task. Even as conditions worsen, people will expect that if governments would just take the right steps, the world will return to the path of exponential economic growth. For a while longer, politicians – Democrat and Republican alike – will get elected promising to do just that. But wish though we might, those dreams are over. Little by little, we’ll have to begin to let go of the dreams we’ve grown up with, and to begin dreaming something altogether new.

Although the weather hasn’t exactly been hot and sunny, days have been warm even when overcast, and it hasn’t rained all that much. Persistent cloud cover has kept temperatures up at night.  While we probably won’t end up with the 21° Brix we’d like to see, we should come close and the grapes will be plenty ripe enough to make good wine, even if we have to chapitalize a bit. It’s a good thing, too – all the barrels in our cellar are empty.

Now all that’s left is to fight off the birds and yellowjackets for a few more days. The propane cannon is booming every fifteen minutes or so . . .

and Niko, our house guest from Germany, is on vineyard patrol.

Where’s that wascally wobin?

I’ve been monitoring temperatures inside the solarium since it’s been finished. During the day, temperatures have consistently been 10-15 degrees warmer than outside, even when cloudy. I was surprised to see inside temperatures falling at night to as low as outside temperatures. Since the main objective of the solarium is to provide some frost protection, that was a little troubling. So we added thermal mass, to better hold warmth during the night.

The tubes are 8? PVC, cut from two 20? lengths into five approximately 8? lengths (the shorter pipe is two 4? lengths glued together, which loses a foot). Caps are glued on the bottom and just slipped over the top. The tubes are filled with water, with Rim Guard added as an anti-freeze (Rim Guard is a non-toxic, agricultural byproduct of sugar beet processing, normally used for ballast in tractor tires – it looks and smells like molasses).

After installation of the tubes, I’ve noted low temperatures inside the solarium remaining 2-3 degrees warmer than outside low temperatures at night, which is getting close to the additional warmth we need to protect our tenderest plants during the coldest of cold spells. Our coldest nights come on clear, crisp days when the sun shines brightly, which should allow the tubes to absorb plenty of heat. This winter will reveal how the solarium performs under those conditions.

IEAs chief economist Fatih Birol, speaking at a conference in London, said that the oil import bill in Europe, the U.S. and Japan is close to the level hit in 2008, when high prices were a contributing factor in the severe recession. Birol noted that when expenditures on oil rise to around 5% of gross domestic product, it has historically caused economic problems. He then warned:

Today with a more than $100 oil price, we are close to that 5% hurdle.

Birol said that of all the economies in the Organization of Economic Cooperation and Development, the U.S. is most vulnerable to high oil prices.

Although oil prices have not yet approached the $147/barrel mark hit briefly in 2008, the total OECD oil import bill for 2011 is close to that of 2008. Brent crude is up again, hitting $113/barrel earlier this week, an increase of nearly $14 a barrel over last week’s lows. WTI prices have recently been hovering around $86 a barrel. The spread between Brent and WTI this week widened again to $25.79 a barrel, only a dollar below the record high of $26.87 set on September 26th.

One sign that global oil production has hit a plateau is that crude oil production is no longer responsive to price signals, as seen in this chart posted by Gail Tverberg at Our Finite World.

Robert Hirsch (of Hirsch Report fame) observes that global oil production has been on a plateau for the last seven years, fluctuating within a 6% range. He expects production to continue to fluctuate within a narrow range for another 1-4 years, and then to transition into decline.

Tom Whipple at the Falls Church News-Press writes that the ongoing and intractable European debt crisis is a symptom of the depletion of cheap oil. The European economies – and economies of the rest of the OECD, and especially the U.S. – are, for the foreseeable future, likely to contract under the weight of expensive energy. Bailouts and recapitalizations will prove futile, serving only to transfer more wealth from taxpayers to the rich and powerful, especially the banksters.

While global economies might take a hit from high oil prices, that won’t do much to postpone the inevitable decline in global oil production. Hirsch calculates that even a decline of a few million barrels per day in world oil consumption would result in a relatively small delay in the onset of world oil production decline.

Kurt Cobb observes it’s hard to imagine a future that is different from the recent past – for most people, perhaps an insuperable task. Even as conditions worsen, people will expect that if governments would just take the right steps, the world will return to the path of exponential economic growth. For a while longer, politicians – Democrat and Republican alike – will get elected promising to do just that. But wish though we might, those dreams are over. Little by little, we’ll have to begin to let go of the dreams we’ve grown up with, and to begin dreaming something altogether new.

Firewood is cut, split, and stacked. Chimneys are swept and wood stoves cleaned.

We’re processing tomatoes from the garden into salsa, stored in jars in the cellar; and into tomato sauce, for the freezer. This year, for the first time, production of peppers, cilantro, and basil is keeping up with the tomatoes.

Garlic, onions, shallots, and potatoes are already hanging in the cellar. Squash vines are beginning to wither, and we’ll soon gather winter squash to be stored away. We’ve already put up one batch of sauerkraut, and two more are fermenting away.

We’ve been eating lemon cucumbers and summer squash. Corn has been late this year, but is finally coming in. We’ve been harvesting broccoli and cauliflower, and should start harvesting Brussels sprouts soon. As an experiment, this year we started and planted out another crop of broccoli, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts, to see if we can grow them through the winter and into next spring. Dry beans should soon be ready for picking and shucking. Our green bean crop was a total failure, succumbing to gophers this year.

The solarium is finally finished . . .

. . . and beginning to be planted.

Two years ago – before the solarium was in the works – we planted an Asian pear tree, in a spot which inconveniently turned out to be right front of the solarium door. It will have to be moved to a new home this winter.

With leftover Solexx sheeting, I threw together a row cover . . .

. . . which I think I’ll use to grow mâche this winter. The mâche, along with lettuces and spinach, have been started and are growing in the greenhouse, to be transplanted out when ready.

We’ve been replanting and picking lettuces and spinach all summer long.

In the vineyard, grapes are just now turning color.

I recall that in the late ’90s and early years of this century, verasion happened around mid-August. But the last few years, it seems to be happening later and later. In what turned out to be the great and bounteous vintage of 2008, veraison was around September 8. That was really late; we had resigned ourselves to not making wine that year, until a late and extended warm and dry spell turned dross into gold. 2011 is two weeks behind 2008. We’ll see . . .

A big project for us while the weather holds out is replacing a failed septic system. This involves a new drain field . . .

. . . as well as a new tank.

That’s our friend John Powell doing the work. The puppy – Zephyr – belongs to friends living in town who need a puppy-sitter for a few weeks. She’s really “digging” being a farm dog. Reverting to city life is going to require a tough adjustment.

Global civilization’s many crises continue to develop, seemingly in slow motion.  Despite the EIA’s decision to tap 60 million barrels of oil from reserves and signs that Saudi Arabia has managed to increase production a bit – at least momentarily – resulting in global production rising, oil prices stubbornly remain high at around $118 (Brent) and just below $100 (WTI) – high enough to threaten whatever “recovery” economists and politicians might hope to see as dozens of countries across the globe experience energy shortages and power outages. Washington European nations, at the moment trying desperately to head off a Greek default that could ruin its banks and put an end to the Euro project, continues lurching from crisis to crisis – Ireland, Greece, Portugal, Spain, Italy – each more serious and more implacable than the last. Arctic sea ice continues in its death spiral. Antarctic ice is melting faster than ever. 2010 was the most extraordinary year for extreme weather events in history, and 2011 is already the most costly for natural disasters – after only half a year. In Washington any action at all, much less the drastic steps necessary to avert global ecological suicide, are proving impossible. Even efforts to return to the “growth” that is responsible for our predicament are gridlocked in a time warp, as Democratic policies which would seem woefully timid to the Roosevelt administration are blocked by Republican insistence on imposing policies  that would seem extreme and vicious to the Hoover administration.

But on the farm, all is not bleak.

Mama duck has been in the duck house, sitting on her clutch of eggs, for 28+ days now, long enough they should be hatching. Yesterday, I noticed that one of the eggs had been pushed out of the nest. Reaching down to pick it up, I found a hole where the egg was partially cracked open. The egg being cold, I expected the duckling to be dead. But then I noticed a slight motion.

From long experience, we have learned that non-intervention is the best policy when it comes to handling farm animals. Interfering takes time, an emotional investment, and sometimes money that equals or even exceeds whatever profits might be realized – and the efforts are usually futile, anyway.

But this time, I couldn’t help myself. I picked off the remainder of the shell imprisoning the duckling (those shells are tough!) and placed it under a heat lamp, close to water and food. A couple of hours later, the little darling was up and about. That night, we let the older ducklings into the brooding room. The new arrival spent the night snuggled up with its older brothers and sisters.

The next morning, we opened the doors as usual, letting everybody out to roam free. The new duckling soon found its way back to mama.

Sometimes the magic works.

A cautionary note, for anyone thinking of moving to Oregon: here’s the farmer on an Oregon summer day, working in the vineyard.

Recall the heretical, anti-growth words of beloved governor Tom McCall:

Come visit us again and again. This is a state of excitement. But for heaven’s sake, don’t come here to live.

Where is a Tom McCall when we need him?

Writer and homesteader Ellen LaConte has a new book titled Life Rules: Why so much is going wrong everywhere at once and how Life teaches us to fix it.

The book first diagnoses our condition . . .

Economic and polar meltdowns, inept, corrupt and bankrupt governments, long-term double-digit unemployment, climate instability, failing social services, collapsing ecosystems, a widening wealth-poverty gap, unprecedented species extinctions, mass migrations, peak fossil fuels, religious, ethnic and resource wars, spreading hunger, poverty, chaos and disease. . .

Why is so much going wrong everywhere at once? The global economy has gone viral. It is ravaging Earth’s immune system, triggering a Critical Mass of mutually reinforcing environmental, economic, social, cultural and political crises that are compromising the ability of Earth’s human and natural communities to provide for, protect and heal themselves.

The prognosis? If we keep doing what we’ve been doing, Life will last but Life as we know it—and a lot of us—won’t.

. . . and then offers a course of treatment:

What should we do instead? We should remember that Life rules, we don’t. The global economy operates as if it were larger than Life. It isn’t. As if it had multiple Earth’s to supply its appetites. It doesn’t. . .

Among the rules written into Life’s Economic Survival Protocol are local self-reliance, intercommunity and regional functional cooperation, non-carbon energy sourcing, resource conservation, sharing and recycling, and organically democratic methods of self-organization and governance. . .

We can learn Life’s rules and adopt lifeways that are at once authentically conservative, deeply green and profoundly liberating.

Robert Jensen interviews LaConte at Energy Bulletin. She reminds us something we seem to have forgotten – that humans are but bit players in a much bigger system.

The largest context – the largest high-functioning complex system within which we live our lives – is not the nation, nation-state system or global economic system but Life itself, the whole-earth, emergent and self-maintaining system of natural communities and ecosystems. That system, the ecosphere, teaches us the physical laws, the relationships and behaviors discovered in physics, biology and ecology and exemplified by the so-called “mystical” spiritual teachers, that we have to obey if we want to remain viable as a species.

The global economy has become pathological and is undermining the ability of human and natural communities to provide for, protect, defend and heal themselves – and here’s where LaConte invokes the analogy of AIDS/HIV:

I think we are presently at the HIV stage of the disease; it hasn’t quite yet become full-blown planetary AIDS. But I insist in the book that doing more of what we’ve been doing to exceed Earth’s physical means as well as our own fiscal ones — in other words, trying to heal and grow the very kind and scope of economy that caused this disease — is akin to injecting a patient who already has HIV with more HIV. That’s precisely what we’re doing.

Lynn Margolis argued in Symbiotic Planet that much of evolution on Earth is better explained by symbiosis – “the living together in physical contact of organisms of different species” – than by competition. LaConte similarly sees life on Earth as a cross-species, communitarian phenomenon. We’re not the “masters of the universe” we’ve come to believe we are, but rather a small part of a larger system. The most important and hardest lesson we will need to learn as a species is self-limitation. We have to stop behaving as if we were larger than or apart from Life and become constructive participants in it. If we fail to do so – if we don’t choose to transform ourselves and our lifeways – Life will force us to. Life rules, we don’t, and Life will not hesitate to rule harshly and even rule us out.

How can we possibly give up on economic growth? LaConte suggests focusing on what we need, as human beings.

Like everyone else, I need food, clean air and water, clothing, some sort of shelter, preferably warm in winter, occasional medicine or medical care, spiritual and physical exercise, colleagues, friends, family, if possible books, lots of quiet, a garden to work in, woods and wild not too far off. To love and be loved. To carry no debt. To believe there is some sort of livable, desirable future for the next seven generations. . . . To be happy, I need good work to do, work that I feel is, in my late mentor Helen Nearing’s terms, “contributory.”

We could all agree to get to work to fulfill that vision.

The Little Book of Life’s Rules for Surviving Critical Mass, a pocket version of key economic survival principles and practices culled from Life Rules, is soon to be serialized in posts at LaConte’s website.

By Irina

Ever since we began keeping a small flock of sheep, mostly for meat and barter, we’ve been lamenting the fact there is no market for wool, gratis or otherwise. Our sheep get shorn once a year, and their wool always landed in the burn pile. A shame, and a waste.

At long last we have found a wonderful solution to this problem. The Creekside Fiber Mill recently opened in Lebanon, providing the much-needed service of accepting raw fiber (from sheep, llamas, alpacas and goats) from anywhere in the U.S. and processing it into yarn, batts, rovings, or needle-felted fiber products. Living nearby, we save shipping costs, which in the past have been substantial enough to make wool a losing proposition.

I took last year’s wool from four ewes in various non-white colors and had it processed into rovings for spinning.

After I saw the needle-felted blankets they produce at the mill, I gathered all my scraps, old pieces, odds and ends and had 2 blankets made. The results were so beautiful that a friend offered to buy both of them at first sight.

Needle felting is particularly appropriate for less than prime fiber or left over wool as any size pieces can be used to create these felted pieces. The sheets of felt can be used as is, or the felt can be cut to create garments, pillow covers, hats, purses – your imagination is the only limit.

Having a local fiber mill means I may be able to develop a great niche market for my wool. In 2011, we’ll have nine ewes to be shorn. I can hardly wait to create some interesting designs and projects.

At long last, our poultry project is beginning to yield results.

Facilities are through the shake-down period and running smoothly, and we’ve been collecting an increasing number of eggs over the last few weeks.

Muscovies are at the water trough (there are automatic waterers inside the shed).

The trough is big enough so that the ducks can get in and swim around a bit, which they seem to enjoy immensely. This trough used to be right on the other side of the fence, belonging to the sheep. But the ducks much preferred the large trough to their small tub, and were constantly going under, over, around and through the fence to get at the sheep’s water. So we gave up and switched. Note the “duck deck” under the trough. Turns out ducks love to eat mud. The trough quickly came to be perched on a mesa. Putting a 4? x 8? deck under the trough solved the problem.

Two Khaki Campbell drakes and Khaki Campbell and Rouen hens are at the outside feeder.

The ducks are finally getting old enough to begin laying eggs. And this week, off some went to the slaughterhouse – all seven Pekins, and all but one of the Rouen and Khaki Campbell drakes. Or at least that was the intent. One of the Khaki Campbell males slipped out the door while I was gathering them all up (I had neglected to install a latch that could be operated from the inside, an oversight that has since been corrected) and, in the dim light of pre-dawn, I inadvertently replaced it with an unlucky Rouen drake. Which is why you see two Khaki Cambell drakes and no Rouen drake in the photo.

fortunately for us Scio Poultry Processing is just up the road a piece. It’s a soon-to-be USDA-inspected facility owned and operated by our friends Joe and Karen Schueller at Rain Shadow El Rancho.

The ducks arrive in crates.

Go in the front door, and come out in cryovac packages.

That’s a dozen ducks, which should be plenty for holiday dinners and more.

We chose to raise ducks rather than chickens because free-range chickens are readily available and affordable, whereas ducks are a delicacy, a luxury item we couldn’t otherwise afford. Getting the infrastructure in place was neither quick or nor particularly cheap, but now we have in place durable, efficient, predator-proof facilities adaptable for a wide variety of poultry.

Shirin Wertime has a must-read article at Culture Change that poses the question: what will happen to our food system as fossil fuels become increasingly scarce and expensive? The following is my summary of some of the highlights.

Today’s agri-food systems are almost entirely dependent on fossil fuel energy for everything from food production to transportation to food preparation and storage. The structure of agriculture production, aided and abetted by government policies, has spurred the expansion of farm specialization and consolidation, monocultures, the delocalization of agricultural production, and the adoption of industrial farming practices. The increase in globalized food production, which has come at the expense of local production, is sustainable only as long as cheap energy supplies can subsidize the transportation of goods across long distances. It will take deep-rooted structural and institutional changes as well as lifestyle changes on the part of individuals, their governments, and societies to transition to a more sustainable, non-petroleum based food system which oil depletion and rising costs will inexorably force on us.

Farming itself has become the least profitable and least energy intensive segment of the entire economy of agriculture. Only one-fifth of the energy that goes into our mouths is actually used for growing food.  The rest goes to transport, processing, packaging, marketing, and food preparation and storage. Farmers end up with only 10% of the total food dollar, while 25% pays for farm inputs and 65% goes for transportation, processing and marketing. A century ago, farmers ended up with closer to 40% of the food dollar and most farm inputs were produced by the farmers themselves by using draft animal power, storing seeds, and using animal manure for fertilizer.

As oil declines, industrial agriculture in its current form will become impossible. It will prove increasingly difficult to feed the world with diminishing fertile land and water resources. The current structure of power relations and resource control in the United States prevents the widespread move away from fossil fuel based agriculture and transition to localized, sustainable agriculture. Without a change in the status quo, small local and sustainable producers cannot compete against fossil fuel subsidized agribusiness. But the reality is that the present agricultural system cannot be maintained for much longer. Decreasing oil production and rising oil prices will effectively bankrupt the American agri-food system. Without petroleum and all of its benefits, there will be little choice but to revert to a system of local, organic production and consumption.

Peak oil will turn our entire world upside down. There will be a return to localized, small-scale photosynthesis-based, appropriate-tech agricultural production and an end to the domination of economic and power structures that place profit above all else.

Now, I can buy all of this except the last part of the last sentence. I’ll believe in the end of avarice only when I see it.

Back in December I wrote a post about our poultry shed project. The predator-proof poultry shed is now complete (except for painting, a project awaiting warmer and drier weather).

And the ducks have arrived, special delivery by U.S. mail, 19 day-old ducklings squashed together for warmth in a 12 x 10 x 6 cardboard box. Here they are – seven Pekins, six Rouens,  and six Khaki Cambells – in their new quarters in the brooder room of the poultry shed.

In addition to the ducklings, you can see the heat lamp for warmth, the automatic feeder, and the plumbing for the automatic waterer (hidden behind Zooey the duckshund). We’ll have six Muscovys arriving in late May or early June.

Zooey has never shown much interest in the sheep, but she’s fascinated by the ducks. Her new assignment, when the ducks get old enough to be outside on their own, is going to be to round them up every evening and herd them back into the poultry shed for protection from night time predators. We’ll see how that works out.

You may ask, why bother to raise a few ducks? It’s most certainly not going to provide an income stream worthy of mention.

John Michael Greer has a post this week that helps explain why it’s not only worthwhile, but an enriching endeavor. It’s all about reinvigorating the household economy.

Here’s a chart from Wikipedia, showing how the labor force participation rate changed from 1948 to 2006:

United States’ Labor Force Participation Rate 1948-2006. Source: United States Bureau of Labor Statistics

And this chart from a post at Calculated Risk breaks the labor participation out by gender:

A good part of the gain in per capita GDP over the last 60 years is the result of increased labor force participation, especially by women. Americans have been abandoning the household economy for the money economy. And as Greer describes, people are often worse off as a result of the trade.

What’s all this got to do with ducks? Ducks are hard to find, and expensive. Check out Willamette Local Foods: ducks range in price from ~$30 for a small one to ~$45 for a large one. Duck eggs are expensive, too – $7.20/doz. Ducks and duck eggs are a luxury we could seldom afford, if we had to pay cash. But we can raise them ourselves, and live richly.

Same thing goes for lamb. Leg of lamb goes for ~$8/lb, and lamb loin chops even more. We first raised sheep ourselves because we can’t find good lamb at local supermarkets, and we couldn’t afford it if we could find it. Now we raise a little, sell a little, and live wie Gott im Frankreich.

And then there’s wine. A decent bottle of Pinot Noir fetches ~$15/bottle. We grow our own grapes, make our own great wine (if I do say so myself), and have a bottle on the table every night, plus plenty to share with friends. That adds up to a minimum $5,500/year – way more than we could afford, in after-tax dollars, if we had to buy it from a wine shop.

Plus we don’t have to commute to work, we don’t have to do shit work,  we don’t have to put up with bosses, we don’t have to worry about getting laid off or fired. We get to putter around the farm most of the day, enjoying the sunshine or the rain, the fields and the woods, and the company of each other and our critters.

Now, if we could only raise doctors and nurses . . .