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November 30, 2005

Wood That Warms Us Twice

While the walnut we're burning this year (yes, walnut) is not one of your top-BTU-yielding hardwoods, the glow from it's orange coals this morning sure feels good on a damp, chilly late November morning. And it warms me in other ways, knowing that our heating energy literally grows on trees. I've been reading lately about biomass as an alternative energy source, and we're blessed to be able to implement that planet-friendly lifestyle change in the near term. Perhaps some of you are contemplating a similar decision to opt for renewable sources for your winter heat. Maybe you'll find these links and info useful.

How much is our winter wood worth? The Smithers method assumes the following equivalents to one cord of average dry hardwood:


  • 150 gallon No. 2 fuel oil

  • 230 gallon LP gas

  • 21,000 cubic feet natural gas

  • 6,158 kwh electricity

We burn about 3.5 cords of somewhat lower than average yield hardwood in a typical winter. (A cord is a block of stacked wood that is 4' x 4' x 8'.) At $2.50 a gallon for LP gas that we would otherwise use, that's about 800 gallons and $1600 worth of fossil fuel we won't be needing this winter.

According to the official measures, our Quadrafire 4300 is about 70% efficient. You can use this link from CDC/Clemson U to compare exactly how this compares to other forms of heat energy. And this link tells you what the highest yielding woods are. But as I've said before: the best kind of wood is what you have plenty of. We have partially decayed oak, lots of tulip poplar that yields about like pine, walnut (which is about like cherry) and indeterminant windfalls of all sorts, and very little oak, hickory, locust or other 'good stuff' and manage to keep quite toasty, for the most part, as the result of our pleasant foraging down the valley. I've had truckloads of wood given to me as well by folks who don't burn stoves but have trees fall or die in their yards.

Something to think about. Let us know if you make the switch!

Water Under the Bridge

image copyright Fred First

It rained and rained hard most of yesterday, and by the time I left Radford for home at 6:00, the winds were up and the wipers could barely defeat the swirling fat drops. Rain and wind: a bad combination for our two mile drive down a single-lane forested canyon road. At every dark bend, I expected a tree down across the road and was relieved to reach the low water bridges and find they weren't underwater.

It rained all night. Ann worried about the board across the creek washing away--again. We'd forgotten to pull it up, and she fretted about it much of the night while I anguished over the gutters that have filled with leaves and all night long overflowed loudly onto the metal porch roof. I never called the guy with the 30 foot extension ladder. A bad combination: a pounding rain, a sleepless night and anguishing over things that are mostly, as we say, water under the bridge. Usually, nocturnal angst is her specialty, and usually in one form or another, it's our grown kids' issues that keep her tossing and turning. Both have large life events looming, or are traveling, or need a hug, and she can't help with any of that in the wee hours far away. And the water in the stream only passes one way, I tell her. Let it go.

Segue: Well, I started the two paragraphs above yesterday morning, and I'm sure I was going somewhere with this but got majorly sidetracked with honey-dos. We removed screens and washed windows because it was a warm day; but warm days are when the wasps revive, and one of the nasty varmits nailed me while I was holding a 3 x 5 foot screen out the upstairs window. Later in the morning Ann called me to another window: nine turkeys were zigzagging their foraging dance in a pouring rain, down by the garden. I watched them through the binoculars for a while. When they got about as close as they were likely to get (but still out of range for the rifle with no sight) I took a shot through the open window. Eight flew across the creek into the pasture; one hopped the opposite direction up the road--I might have winged him, but we discovered no sign. The house smelled of gunpowder for the rest of the morning. Later, we walked the dog up the road in a hard rain; the roiling water was deep over both the low-water bridges, explaining why we'd seen no one on the road during the morning hours.

While working on the screens upstairs, we found one of several plastic bins of unsorted photographs, and before long, we were sitting on the carpet passing pictures of dogs and kittens we have known, the half dozen houses and neighborhoods we've lived in, and of course, the kids through the ages. I'll have to remember how good it is for us, and especially for da momma, to at least be able to see our children, hold their dogeared memories and gather in the years of our lives together. Next time she wakes me at 2 a.m. worrying about currents in other lives that we have no control over, events that are passing on their way to the ocean of Fate and Higher Purpose, I'll just send her upstairs to the archives. It will do her, and so will do me, a lot of good.

November 29, 2005

Tipping Point: 2005

  • 1. Exploitation
  • 2. Technical Fix
  • 3. Wait and See
  • 4. Responsibility to Future Generations
  • 5. Unity of the Earth
  • 6. Precautionary Principle
  • 7. Back to Nature
  • 8. Drastic Actions should be taken now

These are eight possible persepctives (borrowed from this source) from which one might view the issue of global warming / climate change and mankind's role in adapting to or correcting the problem. The Bush Administration once again this week in Canada is voting to put the needs of corporations and stockholders first and measures health by the state of our economy and not the state of our biological systems. We'll let techology fix the problems that technology has caused. Besides, this approach of business-as-usual / clean up the mess afterward creates lucrative opportunities for the megacorps and will keep the shareholders happy, at least while the current regime remains in power. And that is as far as our vision extends. On the scale below, I'd say the Republican preferences fall in categories 1, 2 and 3.

My position is described better by some combination of 4, 5 and 6. There is certainly a role for technology in these responses to the problem, but a technology of human scale and focused on prevention rather than remediation after the harm is done, of working with nature, not overcoming it with a Bigger Hammer. Ecological understanding underpins economical; conservation is considered over consumption; doing with less is considered a greater virtue that stimulating the economy by spending more; and the good of planet and community come before maintaining the status quo for CEOs and campaign contributors.

How would you describe your point of view using the eight 'choices' here? (See "read more" for the complete descriptions.) Is there a ninth or tenth choice that should be included?


Exploitation – Since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, humankind has extracted and utilized coal, gas, oil, and metal ores. In addition forests have been cut down on a large scale to make room for agriculture and human habitation. People with this attitude believe that these resources are here for humans to use and when the resources run dry, we will develop new technologies or find new resources to take their place. Decisions are driven by economics – the cheapest resources are the ones we will use first – and the environment will take care of itself (as it always has). This also includes the attitude that any climate change will happen slowly enough as to not affect me or my generation. Why should we pay for something that has no immediate benefit?

Technical Fix – In the past humans have been so effective at developing new technologies to meet problems as they arise, we assume that this will always be the case. The technical fix implies that any damage can be corrected after it has been created rather than avoided in the first place. Proponents of the technical fix must consider the cost of changing now versus the cost of fixing a potentially huge problem later.

Wait and See – This attitude says that because we do not know for certain that global warming is occurring or what the future might bring, we should do nothing at all now. It is all right to continue to monitor and study the situation, but until we can determine more definite answers to the uncertainties, it would be foolish to act now. Furthermore, climate has been so stable, why not believe it will remain that way.

Responsibility to Future Generations – For many it is a basic instinct that we wish to see our children and grandchildren well set up in the world. We would like them to inherit from us an Earth that has been well looked after and not leave them difficult problems caused by our irresponsible actions. Although uncertainties exist in our understanding of global warming, there is enough evidence to warrant taking actions now to ensure that we do not ruin the Earth for future generations.

Unity of the Earth – Similar to above, except the main focus is that we have a responsibility for the larger world of all living things. Think of the views held by many native American tribes that all of nature is connected in a delicate balance. This attitude holds that humans are responsible for taking care of the Earth and all life, and action on global warming should be taken now since we are upsetting natural balances. For some, the responsibility to care for life was given by God.

Precautionary Principle – Lack of full scientific certainty does not mean that we should not take action. There is enough evidence and scientific basis about global warming for us to act now. Just as we take out insurance policies (that cost money) to cover the possibility of accidents or losses, there is enough of a threat that we should start spending money to make changes now. The cost of changing our ways must be weighed against the possible future costs of not changing our ways.

Back to Nature – This is the attitude that we all adopt a more primitive lifestyle and give up a large part of industry and intensive farming, essentially moving back to pre-industrial times. The back to nature approach will allow the Earth to heal in the short-term and allow humans to live in harmony with nature in the long-term. Two important considerations for this approach: can a population that is six times greater than it was 200 years ago be adequately fed by small-scale farming? In freezing technological development, is human creativity suppressed?

Drastic Actions should be taken now – This goes beyond the precautionary principle to say that we should deal with the global warming problem as if it will be certain doom for life on Earth if we continue to increase greenhouse gas concentrations. Since future changes are uncertain, we should prepare for the worst and not leave anything to chance. Industries and people should be forced to change regardless of what the costs are.

November 28, 2005

Linkage Shrinkage

I And The Bird ~ Map! Fragments holding down the entire southeast US!

The Human Animal/Creativity Curious creature that thou ART (for art's sake.)

Sense of Scale to keep your perspective this week.

Something for the ear: The Appalachian Waltz Trio audio via NPR

Would you prefer to Talk to a Human!?

Something for the eye: The Flickr Interactive Tag Browser!

And finally: Floyd Fido Finds Final Foster Friends. Put a happy ending on this story.

An Object at Rest

image copyright Fred First

I suffer terribly from holiday inertia, here at the end of a whole week off, plus a weekend on both sides. Today, like my students, I have to go back and try to jump back on that moving agenda that is the semester in motion. After the next two weeks, we'll all be back up to speed, just in time for the whole contraption to grind to a halt in exam week.

And for holiday fun, just so I didn't suffer from too much holiday freedom, I toted home fifteen pounds of research papers (more than 100 of them, each of them ostensibly 2500 words) to 'grade.' Did I read every word of every paper? Well, no, as that would have sent me off red-penning things like "this is not a word / sentence / complete thought / thought of any kind." Basically, I checked word count (heck, that was the easiest part of this assignment a all their topics suffered from too much rather than too little material). I looked at the sources and citing of their references and whether those "works cited" were actually cited in the body of the paper in ANY kind of understandable way at all. I was easy on that. Except that perhaps a third of this class of freshmen gave no citations at all, even though they had a bibliography of sorts. They'll know better next time. Maybe. Today and Wednesday, they present their papers during lab. Should be interesting to see their public speaking personas.

I don't think I've told you: I may never teach this intro environmental bio class again, now that recent vacancies for full time faculty at RU have been filled. I'm surprised at how disappointed this makes me. I've learned so much and have a passion for both the general biology and natural history I can share in this class and for the very real, urgent ecological-environmental issues that need to be known by young people who will inherit them in the world of coming decades. I'll be teaching Human Anatomy and Physiology next fall--interesting and relevant, especially for the nursing students in the class. But it won't push my buttons (and you won't have to suffer my environmental rants) like the class that is now about to end.

Along the lines of professional future (not that anybody asked:) I will decide this week if I want to put back on my physical therapist hat again. I never would have thought so, but an opportunity has presented itself 'out of the blue' (hmmm...one wonders about the interplay between Chance and Purpose, but that's for another time.) It would be a part time responsibility, and would leave space for other projects I hope to finish before the next academic year.

What to use for an image for this ramble? Here's a slice of light--a still life, an object a rest, yes?--that I walk past dozens of times a day. It is Ann's grandmother's old Singer treadle sewing machine that sits not five feet from my desk, just the other side of the wall that divides the hallway from the room where the woodstove and my new favorite desk lives. Only in a certain propitious period of days each year and moments in those days does the sun crest the ridge and glance deeply into the entry way. On such a rare day last week, the red glass lights either side of the door tinted this machinery of another age in a eerie red glow. (I didn't touch color at all.) It's an odd image, and I didn't expect to use it anywhere. But it seems to fit just now.

November 27, 2005

Breaking News: Walmart Pays Employees!

But Jon Stewart can tell it better than I can. (.mov file, hat tip to BOingBOing)

Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

"On the level of North America as a whole, what major city do you feel has the most cultural and economic influence on your area overall?"

This is the question that colors the US map with zones of major city influence. (Click map for a magnified view--pretty cool!) Maybe it would be easy for you to say what city you idenitify with--a place that shapes your expectations for news, entertainment, and political focus.

Maybe that is what makes small, isolated towns like Floyd so unique. I'm thinking that for many Floydians, they'd have a hard time saying that any major city holds much sway or influence over them or this area. Maybe folks in our kind of setting identify more with our immediate surroundings, less with urban headlines, hurry and energy that comes from humans in aggregate. I dunno.

But it's an interesting study, early in data gathering, and perhaps will someday tell us more about how we should design cities, towns, villages and neighborhoods of the future--because we ARE going to have to be more proactive and less urban-flighty in the future, you know, if we're going to maingain an ever-growing population and at the same time maintain productive farmland, provide adequate water and other resources and live within our energy budget in a belt-tightening future world. Cities must be sustainable-- a word my students will never hear again (many apparently had never heard it before) without thinking of old 'fessor First.

Seasoned Greedings

image copyright Fred First

So far, I haven't found a lot of usefulness for Harry's Photo Filters, but the price was right. This swirling harlequinesque rendering of one of my favorite winter shots from the archives uses the pattern filter. Interesting, but not necessarily artistically pleasing--more of a greeting card kind of razzle. Or is it dazzle? I can never keep those two straight. Anyhow, happy holidays. Can you hear the giant sucking sound that is the vortex of consumerism pulling us inexoribly toward Giftmas? Exorible for some. How 'bout you?

November 26, 2005

Buy Nothing Day & Other Bits

** We violated the mandate for BND: we bought local pottery during the 16 Hands open-studio weekend, purchasing objects that are both creative and functional as well as locally produced by hand. BND is now celebrated in more than 65 countries full of people who refuse to suffer post-Thanksgiving Galleria.

** It has been nice to have some visitors come from the New River Valley Current section of the Roanoke Times, where Fragments has been the featured blog this week. It was there that I learned of a new local history, self-published by a Christiansburg man. I became interested in C'burg history a few years back when researching the Wilderness Road; both Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone have ties to Christiansburg, which I'm sure is addressed in the book.

** If you see me on the streets (heck, there's only one) of Floyd today, you might notice a limp. The house was still dark when I pulled a button-up flannel shirt from the hallway rack, not realizing that one sleeve was caught behind the very heavy middle panel for the table that we'd tucked out of the way there. I pulled and it came crashing down on my foot. Fortunately, I was wearing my puffy bedroom shoes and the floor under my great toe was cushioned and carpeted. The crash did get the dog thoroughly riled up, though wifey only weakly called from between the covers: "Did you fall down?" and promptly went back to sleep before I could answer.

** I think I have found our way to fame and fortune: we can become a regional source for Pathetic Trees. This is the very tree we find up behind the house every year for Christmas. Now, we find that we could charge $24 a piece for them (I wonder if this cost includes the red glass ball ornament and wire hanger?) We'll be heading up the hillside soon for our Charlie Brown tree. Can we put your name on one of them? (Shipping and handling $49.99, offer void where prohibited by good sense.)

** And finally (for now)...from our Don't Miss the Water Til The Well's Gone Dry department: take a look at some of the zany designs and colors from nature (my choice: the Arctiidae--the Lichen Moths and other favorites.) Page is full of images, takes a while to load, but worth the wait. And remember: we won't be seeing these colorful critters or anything like them now for many months. Feast your eyes, wait for spring.

November 25, 2005

Bit By BitTorrent

Mostly I haven't regretted pulling the plug on the satellite dish three years ago. There are times, though, when it would be nice to veg out and watch some old Seinfeld reruns or a western. Video stores are not strategically located for convenience to Goose Creek (can you believe it!) So I thought I'd check out all this P2P stuff that is so much in the web-news. Surely somewhere out there are some very old reruns of the Sid Ceasar show I could pull into the hard drive if I left it running all night. And so I set about coming up to speed on BitTorrent.

I found a torrent client--Azureus--highly recommended for newbies and experts alike. I configured my router (DI-624) to 'forward' to the correct address range. I added the port to my exceptions list in my personal firewall. I fired up Azureus. NAT error. And, when that program is up, the net is down, and I can't even reach Azureus online help. I lose. (I think my modem is acting as a server, but don't know what to do about it. A little knowledge is dangerous.) I give up.

But I can pretty well tell you, in the wee hours, I'll sit up in bed with an idea to try tomorrow, give it one more try. Dang, I hate to be skunked, even if I probably never would have had either the patience, the determination or the cahunas to download anything of questionable legality. I suppose we'll be watching the same MASH videos again this winter for the fifteenth time. Darn.

UPDATE/Saturday, early: Okay, I like the suggestion to make the transition from VCR to DVD player. I'll start doing my homework and do some online shopping soon, and probably 'give' us a DVD player for Christmas. But if anyone has suggestions on do's and don'ts in this purchase, I'm a rank newbie. Gimme some guidance, y'all.

Morning Has Broken

image copyright Fred First

In the instant it took to jump up from my chair and rush to the front porch, the sunrise color vanished. But it made me remember that I never showed you the view from the top of Buffalo Mountain a few weeks ago. You need to see it; I need to remember it. It is, after all, a time of thanksgiving.

I'll Be Watching You

CIDRAP >> CDC updating disease-control rules affecting travelers. Nov 22, 2005 (CIDRAP News) – Federal health officials today proposed rule changes to make it easier for public health authorities to keep travelers from bringing infectious diseases into the United States or spreading them between states.

The changes would require airlines and ship operators to report passengers who have certain signs of illness and to keep lists of passengers for at least 60 days after arrival, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) announced. The proposed rules also expand the definition of ill travelers to include those with influenza-like illness, and they provide more specific legal protections for people placed in quarantine.

The Department of Health and Human Services has authority to use isolation and quarantine to keep people with any of nine infectious diseases out of the country. Pandemic influenza was added to the list of diseases this year; the others are cholera, diphtheria, tuberculosis, plague, SARS (severe acute respiratory syndrome), smallpox, yellow fever, and viral hemorrhagic fevers."

Mandatory Animal Identification Plan Every chicken, every puppy, every gerbil gets a number--even eventually an embedded radio-frequency ID? And only a matter of time, I'm thinking, until their owners have one, too. Wanna bet? In the name of better s'curity. Lyrics by Sting.


"Every breath you take
And every move you make
Every bond you break, every step you take
I'll be watching you

Every single day
And every word you say
Every game you play, every night you stay
I'll be watching you"

November 24, 2005

FloydArtsWeekend

And we wondered, years ago as we contemplated a move to Floyd County, if there would be enough to do here! Come up the mountain this holiday weekend for total immersion in artsy-craftsy goings-on in and around Floyd.

First, for those of you who saw and admired my oak desk I was so proud of back in the summer, the craftspersons who made the desk for me will open up their shop and studio for your visit. Here's the email that invites you to come by--you'll truly be glad you did:

AN INVITATION FROM PHOENIX HARDWOODS:

Hi! Many people have asked when is a good time to stop in at the Phoenix Hardwoods woodworking shop, and see what we do there. Now is your chance!

SATURDAY, NOV 26--11:00 to 5:00 and SUNDAY, NOV 27--12:00 to 5:00

Directions from Floyd: From the stoplight go north on 221--You will pass GJ Ingrams Marathon gas station on your left after about 5 miles, then about 1 more mile, cross the bridge and we are immediately on the right, in a one-story cement block building with a curved roof. (The old roller-skating rink.)

Hope to see you soon! Best wishes, Corinne & Bill PHOENIX HARDWOODS / 540 745-6403

Of course this is the BIG arts weekend in Floyd, with the regionally famous 16 Hands Pottery Tour. They have a very nice website complete with maps, lodging, everything you need. Check it out.

And while you're out and about, swing by Vitro Yo Yo glass studio over in our end of the county. I think Tim will have the furnaces going, if for no other reason than to warm up the place!

Woodman, Spare That Tree

(This post is cut-and-pasted from three sources: Audubon Magazine, and Boreal Birds 1 and 2.)

Next week as my biology class draws to a close, we'll be continuing our survey of major biomes. My notes from last year say that the Northern Coniferous Forest or Boreal Forest biome is the largest of all. I couldn't remember my source for that fact, so went checking to confirm that I am telling it right. I am. Here are some of the discussion points I found for our focus on northern forests:

The global realm called boreal forest encompasses 6.5 million square miles in Siberia, Scandinavia, and northern Canada. There is more intact forest in Canada’s boreal than there is in the Brazilian Amazon. In fact, the boreal, named after Boreas, the Greek god of the north wind, is the largest intact terrestrial ecosystem in the world, and Canada’s portion alone represents 25 percent of the world’s remaining frontier forests, consisting of a 1.4 billion-acre shawl of black spruce, aspen, paper birch, and larch that drapes from Newfoundland to the Yukon.

Nearly half of the regularly occurring birds on the North American continent use Canada’s boreal forest either for breeding or as home habitat. Each spring, according to data compiled by Peter Blanchard when he was working for Bird Studies Canada, a nonprofit conservation group, up to 3 billion songbirds migrate to nest in the boreal. By midsummer, an estimated 5 billion birds start flying south.

But sheer size is not enough to protect this global treasure, and it is not just the birds who need it.

Every year timber companies slash swaths of forest almost as big as Connecticut, mostly to feed American consumers’ prodigious appetite for wood and paper. "Less than 3 percent of the southern boreal is protected right now,"says Hobson. And less than 10 percent of the Canadian boreal as a whole is permanently protected.

Protected from what? Our demand for wood fiber. Kimberly-Clark Company, which produces Kleenex, Scott, Viva, and Cottonelle brand tissues, toilet paper, and paper towels, uses no recycled content in many of its disposable products, and it cuts down more than a million cubic yards of boreal forest a year. The American Forest & Paper Association estimates that recycled paper represents less than 5 percent of the fiber used in the printing and writing market. Nearly 95 percent of the paper and fiber for book production comes from newly cut trees.

The advocacy group Forest Ethics reports that about half of the paper used to print magazines, newsprint, and the 17 billion catalogues produced annually in the United States was once boreal bird habitat. The majority of mailed catalogues are produced using virgin boreal wood fiber logged in clearcuts as big as 30 square miles.

What can you and I do to be part of the solution? Be careful consumers of wood products, including our reading material.

Noted bestselling authors like Barbara Kingsolver, Alice Walker, Margaret Atwood and Alice Munro have joined with environmental groups to promote more use of recycled paper and less use of ancient trees while producing books. Natural healing author and physician Dr. Andrew Weil has made a similar pledge. In Walker's case, her last three books were printed on recycled paper. She has the practice written into her contract with Random House.

One alternative is to buy from publishers who use post-consumer and non-virgin sources for paper. Raincoast Books prints more than 95 percent of its text-based books on ancient-forest friendly paper. When the large-house Canadian publisher printed almost 1 million copies of the last Harry Potter book on recycled paper, enough trees were saved to more than fill Seward Park and Discovery Park combined. Raincoast has been very pleased with its ability to get the paper it needs, deflating the notion that supply wouldn't match demand if big U.S. publishers went to recyled paper. Many paper industry leaders concede that if larger publishers wanted recycled paper, the supply flow would be there.

November 23, 2005

Do You Know Where Your Children Are?

image copyright Fred First

I may encourage our son to add this warning to the invitations for their wedding reception. Threatening, eh?

How Here From There?

Just in the past few weeks, I've been getting visitors from all over the world that seem to find fragments images on Flickr by searching Google images. Here's an example from Sitemeter:

http://images.google.nl/imgres?imgurl= http://photos17.flickr.com/22853860_9e1f94e2fe_o.jpg%2

The image linked here (and the one most frequently sought) is a Google Earth image of our part of southwest Virginia that is both posted to Flickr and linked on the front page of Fragments. But I still can't figure out what folks are searching for that leads them via this route to the blog. Nice to have the company, I just don't know how they arrived here. Ideas?

Portals and Passages

image copyright Fred First

January is the month named after the Roman god of portals--Janus, the two-faced good who looks toward the future and back toward days just past. And yet I find in my life, the sense of crossing that threshold in the year happens earlier than that winter month. It often comes to me when the leaves have fallen but it isn't quite winter yet, and I turn inward in anticipation of those months of short, brutish days when life comes indoors.

"Janus is the Roman god of gates and doors (janua), beginnings and endings, and hence represented with a double-faced head, each looking in opposite directions. He was worshipped at the beginning of the harvest time, planting, marriage, birth, and other types of beginnings, especially the beginnings of important events in a person's life. Janus also represents the transition between primitive life and civilization, between the countryside and the city, peace and war, and the growing-up of young people."

My semester will end soon, and because of staffing changes at the university, I may never teach this 'environmental' biology class again. I'll not be teaching at all from December until August and life here over winter will take on new rhythms and a new center that I cannot fully know until it arrives. I may become involved again in my all-but-abandoned profession of physical therapy and will know about that change soon. And our son is getting married in less than a month and there is an ending and beginning here that Janus would surely notice.

So, pardon my ruminations. As I look back over fragments past, this turning inward happens to one degree or another every fall. This farewell for our son, from the fall of 2002, seemed especially fitting to the mood of the morning, and I add the link more for the purposes of tying my thoughts together than to expect readers to follow me into the wayback machine--though some of you who are experiencing "the growing up of young people" may appreciate where I am this morning.

November 22, 2005

Jots and Tittles

By Their Fruits You Shall Know Them: TOKYO — In what appears to be influences from global warming, abnormal fruits, such as grapes not turning red and peaches with their flesh turning brown, are being reported throughout the country, forcing producers to try to find effective countermeasures."

GM pea causes allergic damage in mice "The researchers – at Australia’s national research organisation, CSIRO – took the gene for a protein capable of killing pea weevil pests from the common bean and transferred it into the pea. When extracted from the bean, this protein does not cause an allergic reaction in mice or people. But the team found that when the protein is expressed in the pea, its structure is subtly different to the original in the bean. They think this structural change could be to blame for the unexpected immune effects seen in mice."

Man dies while working in concrete mixer I couldn't help notice the location: "GOOSE CREEK, S.C. - A man died when a concrete mixer began turning while he and a co-worker were working inside the drum." Yikes.

I Hate It When She's Right ~ PR Newswire: "Surprisingly, there were actually more germs found on an average classroom water fountain spigot than there were on a toilet seat." Okay, so I won't drink from grammar school water fountains any more.

As The Twig is Bent: There are people managing to effectively combine the medium and the message regarding sustainability issues, says Dale Littlejohn. "It's not rocket science: Check Your Head gets people taking about real issues in clubs, the Better World Handbook used a mini folk-fest approach, and the recent Car Free Day in Gastown was great." Check Your Head provides education, resources, training and support for youth, who then facilitate workshops, organize events and coordinate projects promoting education and action around issues of globalization and social justice. We provide a forum where youth can learn about ideas and debate issues like sweatshops, international trade, corporate power and responsibility and many others.

Here are the Seven Foundations for a Better World (from the Better World Handbook)


  • Economic Fairness

  • Comprehensive Peace

  • Ecological Sustainability

  • Deep Democracy

  • Social Justice

  • Culture of Simplicity

  • Revitalized Community

Got the Music In Me

Image copyright Fred First The pull of music is compelling. It can draw something out of even the most reserved among us. The quietest and most timid person you know may open up to music, become engaged, animated, filled with rhythm. The roots of music go deep. Ever find yourself singing the lyrics of a song you didn't know you had ever known, much less remembered beat for beat?

I would play some ragtime thing on the piano, long ago, knowing exactly what it would do to our young son. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he would run into the room and fall into the beat--not so much by choice as by the power of the rhythm, the rise and fall of the melody. "Stop the music! I can't quit dancing!" He'd say eventually, approaching exhaustion but carried along by the music.

We watched in utter amazement at the wedding recently as kids piled up onto the stage in a wholly spontaneous choreography of unbridled motion. Nobody had to teach them. The DJ put on the music, they came out of the woodwork, pulsing to the beat. It comes from someplace deep and innate (although this young man obviously had picked up some moves from MTV or the local 'hood.)

According to this BBC article, even those whose minds have wandered away from their bodies as the result of dementia can benefit from the power of music. Alzheimers patients have even regained some of their communications abilities and motivations as a result of group singing events, learning how to learn all over again, entering into communication once more after being trapped behind the mask of their mentally altered state.

I fully understand the power here. When in doubt, play music; whistle, hum, play percussion on the dashboard. My wife will tell you: "Unless you want a karaoke moment, stop the music! He can't quit singing!"

November 21, 2005

Mountain High

image copyright Fred First

First, let me confess with regrets that this is not my image. I've posted it here before--almost three years ago--when my friend and hiking buddy Dave sent it in an email after he and wife ventured to the top of Roan Mountain (TN) in January 03. It comes to mind because Dave has lost the original from his hard drive and emailed to say he wanted to use it for a desktop image (no great surprise!)

It just seems appropriate on this chilly, rainy pre-winter day, to look ahead to the beauties only winter in the mountains can bring, rime ice being high on the list. Some especially spectacular showings are in windy places where frost appears as if it were extruded only from the lee side of every branch and twig--easier to show than to tell about.

November 20, 2005

Warning! Fragments Unlawful and Profane

Say what?

"This website is probably unlawful in Britain from the 1st October 2004. The British Disability Discrimination Act makes it unlawful to discriminate against a disabled person by refusing to provide any service provided to members of the public - including websites."

This, according to Silktide Web Development Experts' SiteScore for Fragments from Floyd (takes a good while to load) where I also learned:


  • Your website contains a Flash element. (It does? Doug, is this right?)

  • The following 3 features were specifically identified: Moderate profanity (??), Search facility, News. Generally, our analysis detected an average selection of text and features.

  • About 40,300 other websites were found linking to this website. (3250 quality links, out of 40300). The website is extremely well linked to.

  • Silktide Sitescore: 7.5

That said, there may be further caveats to FFF viewers, as I would hate for this to happen to any of you. As highly cultured and emotive individuals, as a result of the pithy prose and poignant pictures displayed here, you might leave this site with disorientation, heart palpatations and mental imbalance. Called the "Don't Look, Ethel" syndrome and recently studied in Italy. Remember: you were warned. ;>]}

Uptown

image copyright Fred First

I had a friend in grammar school who moved to Birmingham from somewhere else, and he didn't talk like us. My family always went 'downtown' but he would ask if I wanted to go 'uptown' and I never quite figured out the difference. However, there's no doubt that last night, in downtown Floyd, we were uptown. Following a very nice ceremony in a local church, our friends' wedding reception and dinner was held at Winter Sun, stage left in this image.

The food was exceptional (catered by Rob and the crew at Oddfellas, just beyond THE traffic light in town) and the decorations and ambience reflected the considerable good taste and hard work of a core group of gals (including Ann as go-fer) who spent their week getting ready for the big event. We got to see quite a few familiar faces and met some new ones as well.

I had the rare 'opportunity' to don a dark suit (last worn at my daughter's wedding in 1997)--the pants of which, thank you very much, I could both fasten and sit comfortably in. I pulled my black Rockports from the dark depths of the closet for the occasion, only to find that they were blue-furry with mildew, but with a little brown shoe polish (all I could find) they passed for acceptable, especially at night. Could be there will be some pictures floating around of Fred Cleaned Up since Doug Thompson did the photography.

November 19, 2005

Lego House

image copyright Fred First

Hollow walls of pink styrofoam began rising from the concrete footers this week. On Tuesday, the concrete truck will come back and pour the hollow forms to create the walls upon which framing will be set. I think I understand that the walls will have to cure for about a month before backfilling. But 8 inches of concrete and two of foam on either side will give us a high R value. On the north side of the house, with a concrete floor, it will surely be the coolest room in the house in the summers. I think we've decided to save several thousand bucks and at least start with a painted concrete floor and area rugs.

Look, I'm saying "we." Resistance is indeed futile. I've fear I'm going over to the Wife Side. If you can't beat 'em... So is this becoming OUR project? We still lack anything like a condition of harmonious equivalence on the need and importance for this MoreSpace construction. It's not too late to just push all that dirt back in the hole and say we made a mistake. Dear?

Virginia Solution to Traffic and Bird Flu:

Off-shore oil drilling, according to the Hamptom Press. Cynical? Yes. Sarcastic? Yes. Spot on? Yes. But I'll let the author (a marine science prof) take the heat for his hyperbole and verbal caricature, and not this backroads blogger from the Blue Ridge. Recommended reading if you're from Virginia, because this oily issue is sure to rear its slippery head again during the current regime.


...Both of Virginia's Republican senators voted to open ANWR for oil extraction and to allow petroleum exploration off of the coast of our state. Just think of the benefits! Virginia Beach could add the tar-ball sculpture contest to the annual sandcastle-building competition. Beach merchants could rake in a fortune selling those special foil-wrapped towelettes designed to remove tar from beachcombers' feet. Offshore oil drilling could also help solve our transportation problems, since those pesky tourists would likely find cleaner beaches to visit and spend their vacation dollars.

Income from massive refineries built to handle the crude could also help pay for the elevated cancer rate associated with living near petroleum plants. With determination, we could beat out Louisiana for first place in the competition for highest cancer rates. The pride of claiming the No. 1 spot!

With any luck, an oil spill or two would drift into the Chesapeake Bay, the toxicity helping to quell silly arguments about limits on the harvest of menhaden, oysters and crabs. The spreading oil would also kill thousands of seabirds, and that would help make us safer from the bird flu. A sort of pre-emptive strike like President Bush did in Iraq, but with more planning and less deceit.

November 18, 2005

Sequelae

There is the disease itself. Then, there may be delayed pathology in the survivors called "encephalitis lethargica"--a disease whose cause is poorly understood but which is linked to locations and times where influenza outbreaks have come and gone.

So says Oliver Sacks, physician-author of the book, Awakenings. According to Dr. Sacks:

The influenza pandemic of 1918 was followed by another epidemic. The disease was encephalitis lethargica, or the "sleepy sickness," and like influenza it spread through most of the world. Its symptoms were extraordinarily varied - most commonly there was lethargy, but sometimes there was insomnia, and even frenzy; sometimes there were paralyses, sometimes mental disorders.

...it would take several decades for the disease to become of serious interest again. When the drug L-dopa was introduced in the 1960s to treat "ordinary" Parkinson's disease, it was also tried on patients who had the far more severe form of post-encephalitic parkinsonism. Many of these patients "awoke" and did spectacularly well for a while, but the effects of L-dopa then faded, and the patients returned to their trance-like states.
This parkinsons-like condition makes for a terrible aftermath to a terrible disease, but apparently provided the subject matter for a memorable movie (1990, Robin Williams, Robert DeNiro) that sounds like its worth seeing.

And the Chapel Bells Were Ringing

image copyright Fred First

Every man's death diminishes me. Even when it was a lonely man I did not know beyond his pain and his anger. We were in many ways, miles and worlds apart. But his recent sudden death in Floyd leaves an empty place. I imagine looking down from the top of Buffalo Mountain, hearing church bells ringing for this lost brother, who knows now what is on the Other Side.


Three Bells, lyrics by Jim Ed Brown, still living

There's a village hidden deep in the valley among the pine trees half forlorn
And there on a sunny morning little Jimmy Brown was born
All the chapel bells were ringing in the little valley town
And the songs that they were singing was for baby Jimmy Brown

And the little congregation prayed for guidance from above
Lead us not into temptation bless this hour of meditation guide him with eternal love

There's a village hidden deep in the valley beneath the mountains high above
And there twenty years thereafter Jimmy was to meet his love
All the chapel bells were ringing twas a great day in his life
For the songs that they were singing was for Jimmy and his wife

And the little congregation prayed for guidance from above
Lead us not into temptation bless oh Lord this celebration
May their lives be filled with love

From the village hidden deep in the valley one rainy morning dark and grey
A soul which wait in the heaven Jimmy Brown had passed away
Just the lonely bell was ringing in the little valley town
Twas there well it was singing to our good old Jimmy Brown

And the little congregation prayed for guidance from above
Lead us not into temptation may his soul find its salvation of Thy great eternal love"

Three Bells, lyrics by Jim Ed Brown, still living

November 17, 2005

Heavyweight Education

Nursing that first blissful cup of hot coffee, I booted up the browser this morning and scanned the headlines. You can imagine a physical therapist's reaction to the ergonomic horror of this banner from Reuters:

"Researchers unveil 58 pound laptop for schoolkids"

The poor little beasts of burden. You know that since they don't have phys-ed any more none of them have actual strength or endurance for carrying a 58 pound laptop. Don't you suppose they'll strap them to the little suitcase frames that have wheels on them? Can you see it: hundreds of poor sweating, grunting childred at change of class, balled up at the stairwells of the local elementary school, leaden laptops kerthunking step by laborious step, to the next floor. Won't be pretty.

I suppose this is the price they pay for access to education: the engineers can make a laptop cheaper, but all the parts are made from scrap iron. sic

Follow-up 7 pm: Lest it slip past your notice, and so that my 'joke' will float somewhat higher than a lead balloon, please note that this piece was clipped from Reuters UK. Don't make me spell this out here, people.

November 16, 2005

Some Rain Must Fall

It has been, not to anyone's great surprise, a slow process. There were delays in getting the requisite paperwork, partly because of Veterans Day holiday took county office folk away from their desks last Friday; is it one of Mr. Murphy's laws that whenever you're going to do something important, it will always straddle a federal holiday? The construction inspector was out of town on a long holiday weekend; then some other stuff happens, as it always does when you are antsy about scheduling something before it rains, freezes, snows or your money gets spent for something else.

The inspector showed up yesterday. I'd been led to expect the possibility of a lot of niggling issues with one thing or another before we would be granted our permit. But he parks his car, gets out, and just stands there, down by the road, looking out across the pasture toward the barn. He stood there for a good while before he finally came up to the back door where I was waiting to greet him. I realized at the last minute before opening the door that I was still wearing my 'moon boots' that have the duct taped soles. Oh well.

"I just want you to know" he said before telling me who he was of why he was here "that this is one peaceful spot. I got out of the car (I don't know if you saw me standing there) and had the strongest sense that this was a special place." With that kind of introduction, I dropped my concerns about the permit, and he was very happy with the way things were going, permit granted. We called our contractor, and he is to come this morning along with the concrete truck to pour the foundation. However, no silver lining is without its cloud.

While we've been terribly dry these past months, the possibility of rain has been something we've looked forward to like school kids expecting snow. But the forecast of heavy rains this morning followed by drastically falling temperatures and a hard freeze tonight was not the kind of weather report we wanted just now. I guess it all hinges on the extent of 'heavy' and 'hard' to see what will be decided.

And just for interest, this morning the power is out. Don't know why. Called AEP to report it and this kind of problem 'has been going on all night.' I am typing this by the light of one of our new Aladdin lamps. Whether this lack of power will matter for the job this morning, I don't know. Will call Karl, the contractor, at some reasonable hour. It is 6:00 now, Ann is off to work, dog is fed, I had way more coffee than I wanted early on but had to drink it while the percolator was still hot. And now I think I'll go back to bed, if the caffeine will let me, and get up when there's light to see. I'll head off to Radford sooner than usual, assuming the university has power so I can get prepared for today's class. Now, if I just had a locker room at school where I could shower and shave.

The kerosene lamps, by the way, are performing wonderfully--nice and bright (with the shade to diffuse the light) and I haven't noticed any sign of kerosene smell after more than an hour of burning. The thing puts out a good bit of heat from the tall glass chimney. I wondered if you could light a match by holding it over the chimney. Answer: yes. Lesson: don't put the lamp anywhere under a kitchen cabinet or such. And have S'mores ready for the next power outtage.

It promises to be an interesting day.

7:30 a.m. ~ I did manage to sleep an extra hour, and when I finally opened my eyes again, an eerie orange light flooded the valley. A short while later, the rains came. It is darker now than it was a while ago as I ate my cereal under the skylight and listened to NPR on the crank radio. I ran some water for brushing my teeth before the water pressure was gone. I guess I'll walk the dog in the rain, and leave an hour earlier than usual for school, just to have some normalcy to the morning. Hope we have power by later in the day.

9:15 a.m. ~ Still now juice when I left. Drove through blinding rain on the way over Pilot Mt this morning, and it was headed toward home. Won't be any concrete poured if the forms are full of standing water. Yet another delay. And so it goes.

November 15, 2005

Buffalo Mt ~ #1

image copyright Fred First

A week ago today, I trudged up the flank of the incongruous chunk of rock locally called "the Buffalo." Its windblown summit stands a thousand feet above the elevated plateau of western Floyd County.

This bucollic scene is from Union School Road, where cresting every ridge made us look for a place to pull off the farm-to-market road, even while we raced the clock to reach the top of the mountain before the sun settled into the thick clouds. Would we be rewarded for the considerable effort by some sunset shots? If not, it would still be a good trip because it was as much about the getting there as the being there.

Gesundheit

What with the brooding (?) threat of hypervirulent poultry viri this winter in many places around the world, don't you know folks will be more vigilant than ever at the sign of the first sniffles. Is this a cold? Is it the regular seasonal flu, or the high-test variety? It would be a good year to avoid any kind of upper respiratory symptom entirely, don't you think?

I typically don't get a winter cold, and when I do get one, it is generally mild and short-lived. Why? A healthy immune system? Infrequent contact with large groups of infected people in elevators, buses, and such--given our rural existence here? Or is it because I minded my momma when she warned me I'd "catch my death of cold" if I didn't bundle up? I am a believer in keeping my ears warm, and wear a ski band or hat with ear flaps when the temps fall. I keep the beard so my face doesn't freeze. Maybe, it turns out, our mothers were right after all: stay warm, avoid a cold.

A recent experiment in Britain seems to bear this out. Those subjects in which chill was induced were more than twice as likely to get colds, and their colds were significantly more severe than subjects not exposed to experimental chills. Interesting.

And too, in the rhinovirus folder: an article I hesitate to hold up to public light--an endangered native plant, ginseng, actually does seem to have some properties that boost the immune system against cold virus, according to this BBC report. What remaining ginseng-in-the-wild that hasn't been depleted by collectors sending their find off to China (and now to Big Pharma) has been eaten by the Deer Hordes. The only hope is that for this use against the common cold, the horticulturally produced (vs naturally grown) ginseng will suffice. Meanwhile, sad to say, Echinacea 'wilts as a common cold remedy.'

So, bundle up, children. Wash your hands. Cover you mouth when you sneeze. And remember: An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of Kleenex.

November 14, 2005

Illuminations

image copyright Fred First

This shot was a gift. Click for larger image.) I had gone to fetch the dog home after he chased a deer into the woods. He wouldn't come. As I grumbled and groused my way home along the edge of the pasture, I turned for one last hollar at the dog. And this is what I saw behind me--and would have missed. There's a life lesson in here somewhere.

Old MacDonald Had a Factory

I wondered if I was the only person to lay at least some of the blame for the present or future spread of bird flu at the scaly three-toed feet of the high volume industrial chicken 'ranchers.' Apparently, others have made the same connection: stressed birds housed by the tens of thousands are a prime opportunity for disease. Literally tons of antibiotics are required to sustain factory farming conditions; in China, they fed their high-density chickens Amantadine--a drug that might have had some use against bird flu--to protect them from bird ghetto illness. It is a rearing method developed in the US, exported all around the world--and especially prevalent in southeastern Asia--the hotbed of most influenza viruses. Now, our chickens are coming home to roost.

Even apart from H5N1 or the next wave of virulent viri, there's a lot to dislike about this form of meat production where efficiency and profit are the overriding values. Consider some snips from two articles: 1) Agriculture at the Crossroads, from the Sustainable Agriculture Society; and 2) An article by Peter Singer, bioethicist from Princeton. (See also THE BIRDS: The Monster at Your Door, by Mike Davis, that discusses "Tysonization" and its costs.


Since the turn of the century farmers have been told to industrialize or face extinction. Earl Butz's "Get big or get out" was simply one of the most familiar refrains. This industrialization process put farmers on three treadmills. The "technological treadmill" (Cochrane, 1979) wherein each new technology adopted by farmers sets them up to need the next new technology. The "pesticide treadmill" (van den Bosch, 1978) wherein the use of a pesticide creates an environment that requires more pesticides, and the specialization treadmill. Specialization not only creates a need for more purchased inputs but it causes the over production of a few commodities thereby lowering the prices and creating the need to produce even more of that commodity in order to survive economically.

...Despite these trends farmers are currently being pressured into yet another round of industrialization. What is now being called the "Tysonization" of agriculture is being proposed as the next industrialization process farmers have to comply with if they want to survive. The term comes from the Tyson corporation's revamping of the broiler industry, first in Arkansas and then across America. (Note: this article seems to be from about 1994, so should be amended to spread this er, innovation, across the world.) 1


"The National Chicken Council, the trade association for the US chicken industry, recommends a stocking density of about 550 square centimetres per bird--less space than a standard sheet of typing paper. When the chickens approach market weight, they cover the floor completely. No chicken can move without having to push through other birds. In the egg industry, hens can barely move at all, because they are crammed into wire cages, which makes it possible to stack them in tiers, one above the other."

...Environmentalists point out that this production method is unsustainable. For a start, it relies on the use of fossil fuel energy to light and ventilate the sheds, and to transport the grain eaten by the chickens. When this grain, which humans could eat directly, is fed to chickens, they use some of it to create bones and feathers and other body parts that we cannot eat. So we get less food back than we put into the birds _ and less protein, too--while disposing of the concentrated chicken manure causes serious pollution to rivers and ground water.

On the contrary, it is only when these viruses enter a high-density poultry operation that they mutate into something far more virulent. By contrast, birds that are reared by traditional methods are likely to have greater resistance to disease than the stressed, genetically similar birds kept in intensive confinement systems. Moreover, factory farms are not biologically secure. They are frequently infested with mice, rats, and other animals that can bring in diseases.

What is now clear, however, is that such government spending is really a kind of subsidy to the poultry industry. Like most subsidies, it is bad economics. Factory farming spread because it seemed to be cheaper than more traditional methods. In fact, it was cheaper only because it passed some of its costs on to others--people who lived downstream or downwind from factory farms could no longer enjoy clean water and air.

Now we see that these were only a small part of the total costs. Factory farming is passing far bigger costs--and risks--on to all of us. In economic terms, these costs should be "internalised" by the factory farmers rather than being shifted onto the rest of us.

That won't be easy to do, but we could make a start by imposing a tax on factory-farm products until enough revenue is raised to pay for the precautions that governments now have to take against avian influenza. Then we might finally see that chicken from the factory farm really isn't so cheap after all. 2

November 13, 2005

More on Water Needs

image copyright Fred First

Just a followup to a post from last week: several people, myself included, wondered at the "4 to 5 gallons of water a day to survive" quoted in the "Water Facts" post. That seemed much higher than the couple of liters of water I'd thought was necessary to keep a person alive.

The article from which these 'water facts' were extracted did have footnotes which lead to the table you see here. It comes from the Sphere Project, whose function is the care and provision of basic needs for people suffering as a result of natural disasters. So in that planning, up to 4 or more gallons of water need to be provided for each person in the disaster area, depending on many cultural, seasonal and other factors.

So, at 3.75 liters per gallon, 14 liters is 4 gallons per day and explains that larger number. Now we know.

Good Folks, Good Music

image copyright Fred First

While there was more music last weekend than a visitor to downtown could take in, there were even more notes rising from the hills of Floyd County. More than thirty folk converged from several southwest Virginia counties on the home of some local musician friends near Willis for a home concert. The performers were top notch, previously members of or performed with top tier names in traditional, blue grass and old-time music.

After the first long set, they invited the crowd to join them. Fiddles, banjos and guitars emerged from cases carefully concealed under chair and sofa. While the larger crowd and chorus were of mixed talent and pitch, the energy and the comraderie that comes from shared musical appreciation was powerful. The walls of the clapboard country home pulsed with the heartbeat rhythm of the music; golden light from the windows pierced the indigo black of a starry night; and all seemed well with the world, in that one place. At that one hour, the circle was unbroken; life was good.

November 12, 2005

Saturday Jots ~ November 12, 2005

** Smell Smoke? ~ I think I've reached Fall Semester burnout. I have a long list of things to do here as the term winds down, and what am I doing? Reading about how to get organized, about making lists and working efficiently to reach goals. Doing those things? Heck, I'd rather just read about planning to do them. I'm pretty sure I'm ready for the week off, coming up soon, for Thanksgiving break.

** BangBang ~ This is the first day of deer season for rifle hunters, and I dread the next six weeks. Of all the counties in Virginia, Floyd is one of very few that have an extended season this year because we have such a glut of deer. Ask the auto insurance guys: a couple of cars and trucks will be totalled (not to mention the deer) every week til the season is over sometime around Christmas, I think. But it is the hunters that will be the aggravation, not the deer, for the coming month or more. While most are respectful of private property and use good sense, there are those idiot hunters who don't. For every good shot, there are three lousy marksmen who wound deer that die and decompose in unconvenient places like our creek; that's another story I'd rather not think about while I'm having breakfast here. We have bad hunter memories from last year, and the dog will be on a leash (and in the construction dirt) for what promises to be a long early winter.

** Foto ~ Fragments Friday Fall Featured Foto only one day late. I'm beginning to transition from my old gallery (which goes belly up soon) to the new galleries on SmugMug. I'll be pointing that direction soon, when there's more up to look at.

** In the Mail ~ Ah, the sun's up and the frost is melting off the truck windshield, so I have to make a mail run to the Post Office in Check, Virginia--a not very wide place in the road on 221 between Floyd and Roanoke. Yep, that's where we get our mail. "The check's in the mail" is some kind of double entendre in our case, I suppose. Anywho, maybe I'll carry the camera and see if I can come back with a grab shot from what's left of the fall foliage.

November 11, 2005

Water Facts: Did You Know...

On Monday, HR1973, the Water Bill for the Poor, passed. It sets aside less than two days worth of Iraqi Freedom equivalent monies to give millions basic access to clean water--one item from a long list of 'rights' we take for granted in this country. But consider the following water facts, count your blessings, and support your tax dollars going to legislation like HR1973 instead of for unwinnable wars abroad. (Water facts from water.org)

Presently, 1.1 billion people lack access to improved water supply and 2.4 billion to improved sanitation (1). Unless action is stepped up, the number of people who lack access to improved water supply could increase to 2.3 billion by 2025 (13).

Of all water on earth, 97.5% is salt water, and of the remaining 2.5% fresh water, some 70% is frozen in the polar icecaps. The other 30% is mostly present as soil moisture or lies in underground aquifers. In the end, less than 1% of the world's fresh water (or about 0.007% of all water on earth) is readily accessible for direct human uses. It is found in lakes, rivers, reservoirs and in underground sources shallow enough to be tapped at affordable cost (2).

If all the earth's water fit in a gallon jug, available fresh water would equal just over a tablespoon.

A person can live about a month without food, but only about a week without water (3).

A person needs 4 to 5 gallons of water per day to survive (4, 5).

The average American individual uses 100 to 176 gallons of water at home each day (6, 7).

The average African family uses about 5 gallons of water each day (7).

More than 200 million hours are spent each day by women and female children to collect water from distant, often polluted sources (8).

Approximately 60 to 70% of the rural population in the developing world have neither access to a safe and convenient source of water nor a satisfactory means of waste disposal (9).

Water systems fail at a rate of 50% or higher (10,11,14,15,16,17).

According to the UN, 20% of the world's population in 30 countries face water shortages. This number is expected to rise to 30% of the world's population in 50 countries in 2025 (12).

Some of the world's largest cities, including Beijing, Buenos Aires, Dhaka, Lima, and Mexico City, depend heavily on groundwater for their water supply. It is unlikely that dependence on aquifers, which take many years to recharge, will be sustainable (12).

Poor people in the developing world pay on average 12 times more per liter of water than fellow citizens connected to municipal systems; these poverty-stricken people use less water, much of which is dirty and contaminated (13).

Every $1 invested in children, including money to improve access to clean water and sanitation, saved $7 in the cost of long-term public services (18).

More here on water-related diseases. WHO calculates that 80% of all sickness in the world is related to water and sanitation issues.

Wood Heat: Hearth And Home

image copyright Fred First

Our move from Alabama to Virginia in 1975 introduced us to real winter, and our southern bones were not at all prepared for it. That first season of snow and ice, my young family had to hug the cast iron radiators to stay warm. We knew early on that there must be a better way to keep from freezing indoors. We bought our first woodstove for reasons of sheer survival.

The day they delivered our Fisher Momma Bear stove, I thought we’d conquered winter’s cold at last. But to feed our cast-iron heater, we owned neither truck nor chainsaw. With Ann on push and me on pull, we bow-sawed our wood from deadfall by permit from the National Forest. We hauled it home in a Datsun hatchback, full down on its rear shocks, and split it piece by gnarly piece with an axe. This was the famous wood you’ve heard about that heats you twice (or more.) For a naïve immigrant, the energy that goes into wood heat was a shocking lesson in ‘simple living.’ Other lessons learned by the novice country mice that year included creosote. And flu fires. But those are stories for another time.

As we grew into our new southwest Virginia lifestyle and became comfortable with the rhythms of the heating year, I began to appreciate that ‘hearth and home’ are words that do truly belong together. When the cold winds whistled over the roof and the windows glazed with ice, family life was centered around that black box with the kettle hissing on top. The kids sprawled on the floor beside it and played dominoes. Ann sat in the high-backed chair with cross-stitch in her lap while I read or played the guitar in the warmth of wood we’d gathered from our own hillsides.

Thirty years and a hundred cords of hardwood later, I still enjoy the heat of wood, but I’m not quite as energetic now about the gathering of it, or the splitting, or stacking, or toting as I once was. The ground, it seems, gets a bit farther away from my hands with every passing year, and I swear a cord of wood didn’t used to be so doggone heavy. But we’ll hold out against the temptation of alternatives, especially now that other forms of heat are so expensive and might not be consistently reliable through life’s storms to come.

The trees will continue to die and fall in our little valley, and it seems wasteful to give away such a windfall of energy to the decomposers on the forest floor. I’ll be obliged by habit and my frugal nature to bring in the wood for yet another winter to feed this iron pet that lives with us. But there are other reasons to burn wood. I know this will sound strange, but the woodstove does seem like a family member, and it wouldn’t be Virginia winter without it in our home.

The woodstove’s care and feeding for the next six months will be as essential as our own eating and breathing. We will open its mouth and feed it often; we will check its temperature to make sure it becomes neither too hot nor too cold and we’ll watch its breath out the chimney for signs of congestion. After feedings we will clean up the crumbs with a small brush and a dustpan. All winter long, we will pay homage with split oak, locust and ash—offerings to this revered, cast iron symbiotic creature in our midst.

From these first brisk, gray fall days until the crocus and bloodroot pop up in the sunshine of April, the stove will be the first thing we care for each morning, the last duty we attend to every winter night. Before bedtime, we will sit in our chairs and watch the flames leap behind the glass door of the stove, and nod in the drowsy glow. From our bed in the dark, we’ll hear it purring contentedly in ticks and pops as it warms, and we will fall asleep in its flickering light.

This piece printed in the column, Road Less Traveled, Floyd Press 03 Nov 05

November 10, 2005

Salvaged Faces: Still Life With Star

image copyright Fred First

That's the end of the salvage yard faces series. I think maybe this image is my favorite from the seven.

That was fun, and a pretty good run considering that for each image, there was only a single shot, since my chief duty of that day was wife-o-centric and not photographic.

I have a couple more morning fog images to post, and a couple from Buffalo Mountain (from Tuesday of this week) that I'm rather pleased with. So stay tuned! Also, the concrete truck comes on Friday to pour the footers into the mudhole. This is almost more excitement than a ol' country boy can take. Quick! Fetch the smelling salts, Ethel.

Thursday Shorts...

...(because on Friday, we'll need our long woolies. Brrrr!)

** TaHeck with Hummers: The story. The Pictures of hidden HumVees.

** W-mart: The Movie. O goodie!

** Hours of mindless Machinations: The Blue Ball Machine

** Mammatus Clouds

** US Postage Stamps from your Photos? For Real.

** Caring for your Inner Introvert

** Speed-Test your Connection. (This one is particularly snazzy.) My DSL speed is mediocre, but it's remarkable that here in the boonies, we have DSL of any speed!

November 9, 2005

Days of Dirt

image copyright Fred First

This is where he always lies--in what only a short while ago was the grass of the backyard--so why shouldn't he continue to survey the pasture from his favorite spot? Oh, no reason. Except that after he runs through the wet field chasing a junco, then lies down in the excavated foundation dirt, he becomes a walking mudball.

Our only salvation is that, in a few months, the liquid dirt will freeze solid every night; but this southern exposure will thaw on sunny afternoons in January. And every time we bring him in from the cold, we will go through the motions: find a rag, wet it with warm water, and attempt to hold a large, wiggly dog while wiping each muddy foot.

I've been toying with the idea of some kind of lift--like the ones they put your car on to work on its brakes. Dog in the air at a comfortable working height; paws hanging conveniently in front of you; dog prevented from licking your face or twirling around to avoid foot washing; much less cursing involved. What's not to like?

Salvaged Faces: Scales of Justice

image copyright Fred First

Maybe I'm reading too much into this found composition. Still, there's something here: the street urchin selling bread (I guess?) looking so much like she's weighing right against wrong. And she's standing there set against an attorney's frosted glass. But wait a minute: is that a price tag around her neck?

November 8, 2005

Morning Mist ~#1

image copyright Fred First

We live in a deep valley. Early mornings are often foggy, but by the time the sun rises high enough to crest the top of the ridge and flood the valley floor with light, the day has warmed, the fog has lifted and disappeared. One day last week, in a rare timing of humidity and temperature, we had sunlight piercing the morning mist.

I have three from that morning I'd like to share with you.

Salvaged Faces ~#4: Fallen Angel

image copyright Fred First

I rather think the crafter of this piece intended a more ethereal and lofty countenance for this winged being that hovers between man and God. Maybe it is his living eternally with such course features that has made this angel so obviously unhappy with his state in the earthly realms. He wants to smile, but cannot quite pull it off, frozen forever in cherubic indifference. Or perhaps his weak joy comes from something he sees in me of which he disapproves.

Reputation is what men and women think of us,
Character is what God and the angels know of us.
--Thomas Paine

November 7, 2005

Salvaged Faces: Twixt the Devil

image copyright Fred First

Given my problems with a possessed computer this morning, this seemed to be the 'found image' that best suites the moment. I'm thinking this is not old Wormwood or his ilk, but it has a sinister look about it, don't you think? The red light is natural, cast by a stained glass window hanging behind this biblical patriarch or Greek philosopher's eerie bust.

More nature pix, and an update on the MoreSpace Project, coming tomorrow.

Images Without Measure

You have entered a new dimension in time and space.

You open MyPictures where all your precious pixelated pictures are stored. You hold the cursor over the image du jour to get its size in pixels to post on your weblog. There are no dimensions shown, only file size. No column option for dimension appears in MyPictures/View/Chose Details. It is totally missing. Oh, the horror! This is a function you use many times daily and it worked just fine only the day before. You are lost in time and space, in a dimensionless realm known as the Twilight Zone.

Apparently, I am not the first one to have this happen. Fixing it requires a registry hack. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my. And even this fix assumes that "dimensions" still exists.

Is there another way to restore Microsoft Image Thumbnailer and Viewer to default settings? Can I delete and reinstall and bring dimensions back, ya think? There are other ways I can get height and width of images, but when something breaks, I want it fixed!

This little glitch has hijacked my morning focus. Niggling worries like this are hard for me to shake until they're resolved. Know what I mean? They buzz around in my head like mental mosquitoes. Somebody help me swat this sucker?

Pharmacognosy: Plants to the Rescue?

Economic botany, it is called: the role that plants play in commerce and the wealth (or poverty) of nations. Economic botany, epidemiology, veterinary and wildlife biology, global politics and public health all come together in the mounting story of bird flu.

Maybe you knew this: Tamiflu, the (possibly somewhat effective) drug of choice against avian flu is made from the extract of a plant grown in usable quality only in four provinces of China (according to some sources) and is in short supply. The unlikely botanical source is called Star Anise and is commonly used in oriental cooking as a spice. From it, in a 10-step process, a substance called shikimic acid (sounds Yiddish) is derived. It is a process that is both arduous and dangerous: one of its steps is highly explosive. So, there's not going to suddenly be an overabundance of Tamiflu, even though Roche is also making shikimic acid from E. coli. This star-shaped plant fruit is the real limiting factor for having enough drug.

Meanwhile, back as far as March it was being reported that another plant (with added spices and fermented in a crock under the back porch) may be our salvation from the uncertain plague that cockadoodledoos its winged arrival. The wonder drug: sauerkraut. The proof of its effectiveness awaits confirmation. Don't hold your breath waiting on the Kimchi Cure. Or on second thought, maybe you'd better hold your nose.

November 6, 2005

With a Bang or a Whimper?

Power source that turns physics on its head

"In a recent economic forecast, Prof Maas calculated that hydrino energy would cost around 1.2 cents (0.7p) per kilowatt hour. This compares to an average of 5 cents per kWh for coal and 6 cents for nuclear energy.

"If it's wrong, it will be proven wrong," said Kert Davies, research director of Greenpeace USA. "But if it's right, it is so important that all else falls away. It has the potential to solve our dependence on oil. Our stance is of cautious optimism."

This enery discovery could turn into an interesting chapter in history (of physics and human culture) should it bear out. Workable full scale models could be in operation within four years. Hmmm.

Imagine a time when we have unlimited energy. This solves a lot of global problems, obviously. But unlimited power with undisciplined desire is a bad combination. We need to understand nothing in our time so much as the fact that the planet's material resources are finite. With our present short-sightedness, I wonder if really cheap energy wouldn't just tempt us to work more diligently at converting matter into waste and heat.

Would cheap energy merly grease the slope of entropy, I wonder?

November 5, 2005

Blogging Starting Points: Where?

In our last telephone bill insert from the local cooperative, there was a "news" piece on blogging--recently discovered by the otherwise worldly wise writer of the little newsletter. For him, as well as for many of the readers of that couple of paragraphs, the world of blogs is an upstart phenomenon. But not a lot of information was given in the phone bill insert that would do more than introduce the term. The writer suggested that folks google "blogging in Floyd", and apparently a few did, and arrived at Fragments and other local blogs.

So, I thought this might be a good time to say more about blogs, blogging and bloggers in an upcoming Floyd Press piece. I think the best way to let readers see the relevance of blogs is to direct them to blogs from the area by way of the Southwest Virginia blog aggregator, or from the list of bloggers maintained at the Roanoke Times. But what other Blog Directories do a good job of categorizing blogs by subject or region or in some other way that makes sense without being overwhelming to a newbie blog reader or potential blog owner?

Salvaged Faces~#2

image copyright Fred First

I watched the images appear for the first time in Photoshop and this one sorta spooked me.I don't remember taking it. (I'm sure it was at a moment of peak excitement over a pair of French doors that I was supposed to share, and had to snap this lion-thing on the sly and get back to the business of being salvage-happy.)

There is a whimsy about this beast that is somehow both alarming and engaging. Reminds me of a character out of the Chronicles of Narnia where animals took on human reason and speech. He's seen things. You can tell. What would this creature say to us if he would only talk?

November 4, 2005

Salvaged Faces ~ #1

image copyright Fred First

An image in a short series from Black Dog Salvage, Roanoke, October 2005.

Adventures in MoreSpace

image copyright Fred First

The backhoe didn't run into the water main. That's the good news, as six months of mud is now underway. Well, it's not mud yet: we haven't had enough moisture in the last six months to make it anything but dry soil, and that's good, too. Excavation there on the north side of the house would have been much messier after a long wet spell.

Our contractor friend (right foreground) who worked on this woobegone house in 1999 is back, and will be with us for some while, during which we will do that love-hate dance that you do with someone who daily invades your privacy, makes horrendous noises, shuts off your power at odd intervals and leaves things messier than they were when he came (gotta break some eggs to make an omlette, right?) Every time you see this person and his crew you imagine the taxicab meter numbers tumbling, or those spinning digits that show the national debt in real time: every minute he is here, it's X dollars, X-y for his helpers, X+z for the backhoe, the concrete truck. And yet, when this crew of noisy interlopers is finally done--some time in the spring or summer of next year--one of us is going to be very happy. Maybe two. We'll see.

BTW, I'm still waffling in indecision about using SmugMug or other general-public places to store and display images. Maybe I should go all out and buy a Pro account where there is a small chance I could sell enough images to recoup the cost of the account, maybe a little extra. I dunno.

Here is the Day One MoreSpace image stored in a new SmugMug gallery that has only this one picture so far. Many more to come. Stay tuned.

November 3, 2005

Galler-y Galler-ah

I got an email while at work yesterday. "Send pictures of moles ASAP." It was from the picture editor of a magazine that has included me on their list of stock photographers. Every time there is a special need or a long term project coming up, I get an email like this. I sent her a gallery link to the only mole image I have: one of the dog tossing a saliva-covered mole in the air, then catching it before it hit the ground. And this gallery will disappear within a week.

The point is, it's nice to have images arranged in an easily retrievable and accessible location when the need arises. Having online links to images, being able to arrange images topically by galleries, is one of the things I'd like to be able to do, as I mentioned here a week ago.

I've looked at a number of sites, and like some things, don't like others about all of them. But this morning, I signed up for a trial week at SmugMug. The basic plan (for $30 a year, unlimited uploads) is good, but I'd like more customizability over the look of the page vs the very limited black or white choices. I'd like to be able to copy-protect images. So if I stay, I'll probably go with their PowerUser category for $50 a year.

I have a week to think about it. I considered doing it all manually, which is doable, but I'm spread too thin to spend the time to pull that off, and would have to depend too much on my tech-savvy friends to do the tweaking. I am generally content to get behind the wheel, turn the key and drive. I'll let somebody else keep the paint job up, balance the tires and tune the engine. I just wanna know how to turn on the radio and go!

But What Does It Mean?

image copyright Fred First

I took my camera to the salvage house because I'd seen things there before that were visually appealing to me. I can't explain why, nor can I tell you what the images I brought home 'mean' to me, much less what a viewer should see in them. I only know there was something there for me in the line and form, and there was pleasure in discovering these apparitions of faces in an old warehouse salvage yard.

This kind of subject matter is far from what I have to work with around home. so 'finding faces' in the old warehouse was fun, and a challenge that quite took my mind of our (or at least her) purpose there: to find doors for the new addition. (My lack of full attention to the task was duly noted and I was encouraged to remember why we were there.)

Is it art? If someone painted this image, not only would it be fine art, but it would invite both discussion of color and form and an attempt to explain what the artist was trying to 'say' with this disembodied face hanging on cold metal bars, peering icily into space. Is it a self portrait, they would ask? Does it speak of isolation or of powerlessness? The face is classical Greek statuary style. Is there a significance to this versus having used a modern face?

But it is simply a found image. I did nothing but point and shoot. (Well, maybe a little more than that.) Even so, it appeals to me for reasons I cannot entirely explain. And maybe that is the value of art--in the questions it makes us ask, not in the answers it gives us.

So Ann thought we were going to buy doors. I was going to an art gallery to be challenged by the faces of statuary, yard art and kitsh. More to come.

November 2, 2005

Java Jive

Am I the only one who has problems running SOME BUT NOT ALL javascript from FireFox?

A half dozen times a day, I have to switch to MSIE to run some scripts from a web page while others on the same page work fine. I don't know nothing 'bout runnin' no java. Ideas?

Java is enabled and the most recent java installed on the most recent build of FFox. Is it just that webpages are not completely FFox compliant? Or do I need to tweak something?

Hallelujah Chorus: The Solo

image copyright Fred First

Ann is hearing the angels sing. The backhoe comes tomorrow to begin excavation behind the house to prepare the area for the concrete slab that will become the floor of HER new room.

I am hearing March Slav, decidedly a minor key and evocative of barefoot soldiers marching through miles and miles of mud in snowcrusted rags in winter.

What lies ahead are three months of daily machinery noise, power and gas outtages (all lines buried in the path of the backhoe will need to be dug up and rerouted.) An armada of service trucks will clog the driveway, including concrete trucks for a time. The incline of our driveway will be devoid of gravel by the time it takes wear in three months that we couldn't give it in five years. And there will be mud--a sea of mud--until April or May at the earliest, when we can get grass seeds to grow. Ann and I will take our muddy boots off. The dog, on the other hand, will not. The dog, who will have to be pottied on a leash, even in the very dark very cold before the workmen arrive, to keep him (relatively) clean and pretend to protect our carpet. Can you tell I'm not as excited about this as Spouse? She sees Cherubim, while I'm seeing another kind of diety entirely. About which some images...

We went to Black Dog Salvage yesterday for doors. She found some. I found pictures. And so expect an uncommon string of characters to appear on this page for the next week--the faces of Black Dog.

And do you think you've heard the last about The Addition? Oh no. It will become a little chapter in the continuing story of the clash of Martian and Venutian world views on Goose Creek. You'll hear of the decisions and indecisions that go with unexpected complications of construction; and, hopefully, in the end, of the final product that she thinks is going go be a little piece of heaven on earth. I hope she is right. But I wouldn't bet my life on it.

November 1, 2005

Ad Infinitum

Funny how an image can be worth a thousand words, even if those words have become buried in years of forgetfulness and inattention. The image that sparked this meander is here. It brings back a kind of delicious horror of childhood. And then it continues forward horizontally in time, vertically in the heirarchy of a personal sorting out of how things fit, and why. Let me explain.

It was in some department store, I think, where mirrors were arranged in three-panel cubicles for the potential customer to admire her new skirt or blouse. I was maybe five years old when I saw it first, standing there waist high to my mother in her pleated dress: there was me, looking in a mirror that reflected a smaller me looking in a smaller mirror, and me... I had the sensation of falling, of being swallowed up by an infinity of space. Was there a larger version of this reality going on behind me, so that the mirror in front of me, those many me's, were only the visible parts of an invisible endless reality that continued to the vanishing point in both directions? Was there more to this vision than I could see? Of course, I had no words for this sensation at the time, only the sense that I had touched an edge of the world I did not know.

I saw this again, years later, in M C Escher's works: a hand drawing a picture of a hand; reptiles that emerge from the page and enter it again seamlessly; the Mobius in all its forms. But these were like the mirror, something becoming larger or smaller parts of the same level of reality--fascinating, disturbing, perplexing and enlightening all at once--but not leading higher or lower in the chain of being.

The chain of being. I may have encountered this first in E F Schumacher's Guide to the Perplexed, in his m+x+y+z ordering of things: matter with life, matter with life with consciousness, matter with life with consciousness with self-consciousness. This wasn't a new way of looking at the cosmos by any means; the Renaissance kept this idea of universal order and universal interdependence alive in the philosophy and theology of the day (eg, the cosmological argument for the existance of God built on this assumption of levels of perfection.) But it was a new paradigm for me in my twenties, and somehow, it seemed that if the thread were followed it would lead somewhere worth going.

Arthur Koestler approached this subject from a number of perspectives in Janus and Ghost in the Machine. He introduced the concept of the 'holon'-- with each level of the Great Chain both a self-assertive and integrative part of the larger hierarchy. At the time, I was growing more and more to reject pure reductionism as a path toward the fullest understanding of the whole, and his work provided some language and concept to work with. This was altogether different that the infinite regression of self-portraits I had seen in the mirrors as a child, though that experience pointed the way to the possibility of infinite regression in the order of the material cosmos and in the relationships of autonomy and independence, a 'wheel in a wheel' that I continue to believe is 'really' there. I'm seeing all this anew with this recent hard, long look at global ecology at the same time I re-examine my own small world of thought, belief, action and faith.

Well isn't that interesting. I had only intended to post a link to the eye-candy webpage when suddenly my free-ranging fingers launched into a discourse (read: garbled navel gazing) sure to have readers thinking I've gone off my medication. Speaking of which, I do need more coffee.

Ah blogging. It doesn't have to be anything but yours to publish. Caveat emptor (and emptoress too, of course.)

Eye in the Sky

image copyright Fred First

Sky's-eye through pines -- shines round an iris of light

God's eye glances down -- graces me with sight