I am following the wise words of Maria Popova, who explains how she has decided to “stop measuring my days by degree of productivity and start experiencing them by degree of presence.”
My lower back is coming out of “guard mode” but I’m diligently reminding myself not to overdo it and re-injure myself. Continuing to learn lessons in healthy dependence, humility, and focusing on the long-term Big Picture rather than short-term busyness.
On a permaculture setup, when one system breaks down, it’s a minor hassle and usually easily remedied. When multiple systems break down concurrently, it becomes a major hassle but still totally fixable. But when one of those “systems” is your own body, we start looking at total system failure.
It’s been a rough month, indicated by a 10-day late blog post and numerous folks’ “Dude, where’s the update?” emails. If you think this blog post is late, you should see the backlog on my micro-farm chore list.
Several weeks ago I injured my lower back *again*, this time with a spasm-induced face plant on the floor and subsequent army crawl to the nearest bedroom where I camped out for two weeks; easily the most debilitating injury I’ve had in several decades. The first few days were spent in mortal fear of figuring out how to do basic items like go pee or breathe deeply without triggering another muscle spasm that curled me into a fetal position. Thank goodness for small town doctors who still make house calls (Julie and Holly, you rock).
Multiple specialists (including my own amazing wife who is a skilled energy healer) are telling me this acute flair up and the past two years of repeated lower back injuries are directly related to how I am managing the stress of my current day job, so I’ve been actively searching for a more permanent fix, one that likely revolves around increased meditation, more frequent hands on treatment by various medical specialists (as opposed to popping pills from Big Pharma), fixing my basic movement patterns and compensations via Functional Movement Screen, and a modified yoga practice (thank you Jen and Joyce).
Despite the injury, this past month *has* had multiple highlights to share – in addition to realizing just how lucky I am to have doctors who are also neighbors – including re-learning a healthy dependence on and sharing of micro-farm responsibilities with the rest of my family. We’re moving at a slower pace now, with harvesting from the hugelculture beds and preparing food for storage in the evenings and weekends. Time is now measured in the number of songs on Pandora it takes to complete a chore like preparing strawberries for the chest freezer.
Together, we are slowly making repairs to the broken systems: finding and mending the irrigation piping broken while trenching electrical conduit for our winter solar panel project, returning the chickens to the pasture and cleaning up the food forest where they spent six months, pruning the fast spring growth on the grapes and kiwis, rebuilding the chicken watering system that harvests rainwater which they managed to mess up during their stay in the food forest, changing on how we handle pallets of chicken food ordered in bulk with other micro-farming families, and so on.
The top highlight for me from this past six weeks has been pondering the wisdom of an eight year old who says she is “Glad you hurt your back so badly so you spend less time working and doing chores and more time playing chess with me.”
Hmmm. Pure wisdom.
Two highlights to share this month as the hugelkulture bed becomes more populated with greenhouse transplants and the direct sow seeds begin popping up.
First highlight: the return of the bees. I’ve been checking on our new bees almost daily to see who’s winning a war with ants from the pasture.
Before installing the new colonies in the hives, we did a clean sweep (read: stomp) of the ants that had swarmed the dead hives over the winter and created a careful (will affect the bees as well if they land in it) perimeter barrier with dichotomous earth (DE).
After installing the bees, two of the colonies promptly kicked the remaining ants to the curb and went about their business of bee-ing. But one hive began what’s become an epic battle with the ants, who have them outnumbered by several millions.
We’ve assisted by tracing the ants back to their nest – not difficult given it is 4’ wide and 3’ tall – and bombed it to give the ants something else to focus on besides raiding the honey stores of our new colonies. The bombs made of DE + boric acid + cat food are designed to give the queen indigestion, and they seem to have helped.
We *do* want the ants around for their beneficial nature, but just need to distract them away from the hives while the bees build up their strength in numbers. It seems to be working as the reduced hive entrances now feature multiple bee guards and ants being challenged at every step as they try to regain access.
I’m thankful for the returning sound of thousands of bees over my head as I walk underneath our Japanese maples in early bloom. I can only imagine the sound of millions of these new life forms as they spread out on farms and backyards throughout the west coast of America and beyond. It’s the sound of life, the sound of balance, the sound of happiness, perhaps?
Second highlight: through work I met an interesting fellow with an amazing private collection of 100+ giant crystals and fossils, some of which have been dated to 500M years in age. Since they are in a private collection and not a museum (yet), you can interact with and lay hands directly on them. Something about touching an enormous 5’ crystal unearthed from three miles below the earth’s crust where it grew for 1/2 billion years puts your local problems into perspective. Amazing.
Only three lowlights, all relatively minor:
Turning on my fancy lawn irrigation controller that’s been repurposed to be a fancy food forest irrigation controller revealed multiple water line and electrical cable breaks caused by our solar installation this past winter. Bummer. And the detective work to find and make the repairs is always 24″ down, which means lots of shovel work (and guessing). Double bummer, but now fixed.
Second lowlight was the vigor with which bindweed surged forth from its hidden base in our rock retaining walls. I’ve recruited my elder child into helping me battle this back several times per week with a spray mixture of white vinegar + salt + dishwashing soap. If you pull it, the roots send out shoots, spreading it even faster.
The third lowlight involved most of the family. Imagine the loudest primal scream you’ve ever heard, an equal mix of rage, sadness, and surprise. Now imagine it’s originating from the vocal cords of a very strong, very motivated eight year old child. That sound brought me running to the back pasture, where I found my little girl and German Shepard tearing down the hill at full speed after a beautiful eagle which (unfortunately) had one of our chickens in its clutches.
After chasing it over an acre of pasture, screaming at the top of her lungs, the eagle had enough of this weirdness and dropped the chicken from a height of 40′. Amazingly, the chicken is alive and will fully heal. And we got a great up-close view of the eagle for ten minutes, as he watched me dig the chicken out from under a mess of stinging nettle and blackberry thorns. Gorgeous bird, but I imagine he was pretty frustrated with us.
We’ve been loving the early spring and welcoming its cheerful colors popping out of each fruit tree’s guild of flowers.
As you can see in the nearby image, we’re inadvertently conducting an experiment in the food forest, seeing how well the fruit trees handle the chickens’ extended presence while their pasture regrows from the solar array installation.
The closer tree still covered in blooms is what the further tree looked like just a few weeks ago. The further tree has been a favorite of the chickens, who hop around it, plucking off flower buds with abandon. Oops. We’ll see how that affects the fruit yield.
On the remaining fruit trees, the tent caterpillars were sent to their next life by the tens of thousands this month. Better luck next time, little dudes.
Lots of transplants of the hardier veggies like kale and chard made their way from the greenhouse to the newly compost-topped hugelkultur bed, while we were rebuilding trellises in the food forest and the nearby supporting beds. You read that right, the veggie starts made their own way out there; it was like Fantasia!
And here’s the time lapse-ish prep and install of the PV panels…
Mother Nature is keeping us in balance (at least by her definition) with some gorgeous January weather – blue skies, bright sunshine – that is opposite of this past summer’s Juneuary. I suppose it is a matter of perspective, but the sunshine sure makes me happy no matter what time of the year it comes.
Projects this month included (finally) bricking up the base of the attached greenhouse so it matches the rest of the house, starting the earth-moving work to prep level pads in our pasture for inbound photovoltaic panels that we’ve been thinking about for five years, and starting seedlings for spring planting under the grow lights.
I use this time of year to reflect on what went well this past calendar year, what didn’t, and what I can do about it for the coming years. As the accompanying graphic from the always-brilliant artist behind The Oatmeal explains, greatness for any given project (or just life in general) is the oh-so-lucky intersection of at least four major influences.
Upon reflection, my day job of the last two years (where I have that excellent colleague as indicted in the graphic) is increasingly taking me away from food production duties, and yet that has only decreased our production by 10-20%, mostly due to not prioritizing the daily/weekly management of season extending devices like grow tunnels and Agribon paper.
This year I’ve continued to experience the benefits of a two decade-long buildout of a personal Board of Mentors. They’re like a Board of Advisors for a company, but at a personal level. I’ve found one gaping hole, however, with the lack of a mentor in permaculture. I’ll remedy that this year by carving out time this year to pursue a PDC certificate (permaculture design course) through which I can recruit a mentor specific to my bioregion.
Looking forward to this next year, our first major project will be installation of a ground mount solar PV system we just purchased (will pursue adding wind harvesting when the tech improves as our measurements are currently too low). The solar will be a ground mount system since our roof has way too many angles and not enough continuous space for PV panels.