Sights and Sounds of a Typical Day for Amanda

My day starts in the middle of the night, waking up to the sound of Joseph snorting a bit in his sleep.

Morning arrives, with the serenade of a male Cardinal (seriously, he is at our window every morning).

Fill the kettle with water (from our well via the sink).  Grind coffee beans and fill the coffee pot (ceramic, which should come as no surprise).  Kettle does not whistle, but does sound like an on-coming freight train, a multi-toned alarm to alert you that your water is, indeed, at 100 degrees celsius.

Joseph turns the TV on, to the only station he will watch in the morning - Good Morning America.  Watch the local morning news and then national news.  Eat breakfast - for myself, I usually have old fashioned oatmeal.  We don't have a microwave so everything relies on our gas stove.  Add maple syrup and some walnuts.

Change and out the door (both of us) by 8:30am.  We're very fortunate to have employers that don't make us start work too early.  Just as long as the work gets done.

I watch Joseph walk to work, only 100 yards from our humble cabin.  Sometimes in envy, most times a feeling of gratitude.

Our cabin faces the back of a barn, which houses the finished pottery on display.  We also see the Hewitt's Kubota tractor parked, in what I could consider, our "front yard," but nothing is ever "ours" when you're renting.  Walking past the barn, the two large kilns come into view, the Hewitt house, and the pottery.  Sometimes, I see Mark outside taking out boards of recently thrown, now drying, bowls and mugs.  In the walking path from the barn to the "parking lot" where I leave my vehicle, there are enormous pots the size and weight of an average man.  Stunning pieces of art, reflecting the morning light, dew collecting in their scratched-in designs.  What a fortunate bunch, we are.  

90% of the time I drive my car to work, only 2.5 miles away.  If I get the chance and it's not cold, rainy, or dark (and I don't have to haul worm food from the local restaurant), I get to ride bike.  The car creaks and cranks, jars and sighs, like the ancient whale that would rather rest on the surface, the ebb and flow all-inclusive.

Drive to the Industrial plant to pick up paperwork and check on my worm composting operation.  The little buggers look happy, delightfully eating their way in and out of the food that I sent through my "worm smoothie machine" the previous evening.  This time of year, the majority of the food are the edible greens like chard, kale, or collards.  This summer I had a lot of tomatoes.  At the Industrial plant, I encounter many things, most of which have become everyday life for me:  a large, 18-wheel tanker pulling in with a load of feedstock (aka chicken fat) to make the next 1.5 days worth of fuel, brightly colored doors invite you into each building, greenhouses and an organic farm hug the perimeters of the visible landscape, a bee hive, dogs playing in the grass, a grove of banana plants, a larger-than-life chess set, the smell of biodiesel as an employee drives past you in their Mercedes or Volkswagon.  Again, not sights, sounds, or smells that 99.9% of the world will encounter, but have somehow become typical to me.

The day includes a lot of sitting at a computer, crunching numbers, pushing papers.  Some phone calls, "We need to follow up on an outstanding invoice," I can't wait to let go of the jargon and live outside the world of admin.  Occasionally, I get to sell some worms, demo some worms, or just play with some worms while it is still daylight.  As long as my hands get to touch soil once per day, I am content, but never satisfied.  It is not enough to justify five years of college, but it is enough for one day in the life that is me.

Alaska - Truly Mystical

In pursuit of the most pristine wilderness, we encountered a place we thought only existed in our imaginations.  Alaska is stunning, untamed, and at times, untouchable.  So, the journey begins...

Depart North Carolina for MN for a wedding anniversary celebration for Joseph's grandparents.  From that point, we boarded our plane for a direct flight to Anchorage.  Lucky for us, we were traveling against the sun, gaining more time as we flew, heading northbound over the pock-marked landscape of Canada, stunning wetlands glimmering up at us.  We noted that you could clearly see that path that the ancient glaciers traversed, embedding distinct scarring into the land.

Outside of Anchorage is the area called Turnagain Arm, with the world's largest tidal zone.  Here they have the mud flats, which pose a serious threat to any nieve tourist or native.  It acts like quicksand, making it difficult to escape.  It happens often enough that the local fire department has a special truck and protocol for rescuing anyone caught in this awful trap.  To free the person, they force water into the sand, helping to "float" the person up and out of the muck.  The sign below mentions something of the tidal zone, however, you can see that this sign (and many others) have become part of target practice.

Our ride was a sweet one!  We asked for a compact car, and we definitely got what we asked for.  It even has racing stripes across the top.  I am guessing that we averaged about 40 mpg for the entire trip.  We had to wait in line to enter a one-way tunnel that is shared with the train.  It only goes to the town of Whittier.  Here is where we depart for our glacier cruise into Prince William Sound.

Begin the cruise!  Tons of gorgeous waterfalls cascading down the mountainsides as the glaciers melt above.  And, yes, the water is really that shade of blue-green (it's also about 40 degrees in temp - don't fall in!).
Our first large glacier.  Here we are about one mile away from the face which towers over 600 feet.  This was the most active glacier that we saw.
Here you can see the entire face of the glacier crashing into the water.  It was the largest calving that the tour company has seen.  It created a surge of water probably 8 feet high, threatening to topple over our cruise boat.  We high-tailed it out of there, some people seeing visions of the fate of the Titanic.  It was breath-taking.
Moose!  Unfortunately, this one is in a wildlife refuge, but it looks like a National Geographic photo (sort-of!).

Here is where you can see evidence of the 1964 earthquake that shook Alaska.  The dead trees that you see in the foreground sunk, allowing salt water into their roots which killed them.  In a few places, the ground sunk up to 8 feet.

The day after our glacier cruise we decided to take an impromptu trip down to Seward.  It wasn't part of our original itinerary, but so many people said to go there so we jumped on board a wildlife cruise.  Here are some the creatures we saw....

Sea Lions...

Humpback whales breaching....

Sleeping humpback whale

Bird rookery (bird habitat where they create a hierarchy, closest to the water being the lowest rank)...

It was a wonderful day, although while we were in pursuit of the breaching whales we happened upon some rough waters, whitecaps, and rain.  It was a trying time for those lacking iron stomachs.

After departing Seward, staying only for the afternoon, we continued on through the stunning Kenai Peninsula.  It is known as "bear country."  Constantly, Joseph and I were searching on road sides, along mountain tops, on river banks for any sign of bear activity, but found nothing.  I guess brown bears don't frequent highways.  What a surprise.  This ain't Yellowstone, baby!

Our destination was the southern-most point in Alaska reachable by vehicle: Homer.  The drive in felt like the drive up to Duluth, MN for anyone that has done it.  Taking Hwy. 35 N, the hills climb around you, the temperature drops, and you finally cross around the belly of the mountain anticipating the explosion of hustle and bustle, people and buildings, cars, the smell of the water, the lights, the trees, the sun setting on the Lake; feels like home.  This is what it was like to arrive in Homer.  Stopping at a scenic stop on the side of the road, Joseph and I both remarked that this place felt familiar, like home.  Too bad we were thousands of miles from it.  Or were we?  Who knows.  Maybe in another life.  

Day 2 in Homer involved a half-day kayak trip, including lunch.  During our trip, we encountered elephant kelp, puffins, sea otters, and other interesting sea life as well as some fantastic rock formations (seen below).  Our lunch included some sea lettuce and kelp (I know it sounds weird, but it was truly delectable).  Apparently, you could eat a sea star if you were that hungry.  I think it would taste like salt-water taffy, but with prickles.

On the Homer "spit," which is the 4-mile long peninsula out into Kachemak Bay, there are all sorts of businesses: art dealers, wood carvers, fishing and kayaking charters, and the most fantastical seafood you could ever indulge in.  The scallops were buttery and soft, the crab was to die for, smoked salmon from heaven (or from that river just behind you).  Here was a common sight: an employee of the charter cleaning that days catch made by the tourists on board.

Look what I found, mom!  Joseph went out on his own charter while I wandered around town and investigated the art galleries, local food coop and craft stores.  He caught about 30 pounds of fish.  We had this Halibut professionally cleaned and package, sent via airmail to North Carolina.  Now, we have 8 pounds Halibut (try it in a Ginger Teriyaki marinade and you will just melt)  and another 5 pounds of regular and smoked Salmon to indulge in until our next trip.  Yum!

Eagles were an all-too-common sighting in Homer, with over 60 living on or near the "spit."  They became as regular as the sea gulls.

Homer was our "home away from home away from home."  It truly was magical.

From Homer, we continued our way back up through the north, stopping for a night in Palmer (the neighbor town to Wasilla - famed hometown of a now famous former mayor, Sarah Palin).  Palmer felt like we were in "Farmtown," USA; there were grazing cows, pastures, massive vegetable crops (midnight sun helps out a lot when aiming for 1 ton pumpkins!), and an upcoming county fair complete with tractor pull.  

Here, we masqueraded  around on horseback for a few hours in the woods, all the while having to continue conversation, although sometimes superficial, in order to warn the bears that we were riding through their country.  Never have I felt more vulnerable and humbled in nature, no longer feeling as though I am the dominant animal (although, we were ever?).

Next stop....Denali!

I wish I had our videos up right now to show you the expanse of this mountain.  It is truly fantastic.  We were one of the lucky ones to see it; only 20 days out of the tourist season typically are clear enough to have Denali visible.  This mountain is so large that it creates its own weather systems, making it equally difficult to see.  

We opted for a bus tour into the National Park.  No cars are allowed within the park, with only one dirt road (2 lanes) traveling 8 hours into the park, then turning around to traverse the same road back.  Here we spotted our first momma grizzly with two cubs.  Apparently, this time of year the bears are eating mostly bugs and roots pulled from the earth.

Watch out for that moose!

I will definitely need to add videos in a future blog.  We were so overtaken with awe on our adventure that we barely took any photos and pretty much all video.  Soon to come!

Our night was spent in Talkeetna, which is an old gold mining town south of Denali.  This is where all the mountain climbers start their climb by boarding a prop plane and flying up to base at 7,000 feet on the side of the mountain.  At that point, it takes 2 weeks to climb up, stopping at two more bases before reaching the summit, then 1 week to climb down, which is sometimes the most dangerous part.  

In our B&B, we were told by the house-lady (she might have been a little tipsy) that we were staying alone in a house that was haunted.  There just happened to be no other renters that night.  I barely slept.  

The next morning, we awoke to a mildly foggy day ready to board our prop plane for a summit Denali flight.  It was intense.  Another reason to get videos up on this site.  We had to wear oxygen masks because our ascent was so quick and the cabin wasn't pressurized.  

The plane went to 21,000 feet to view the summit of Mt. McKinley (known as Denali in Alaska).  We were able to see the camp where all the mountain climbers were resting due to a recent blizzard and sub-zero temps.  The pressure in the plane was so great and the elevation was enough to make me ill.  Both Joseph and I felt numbness and tingly in our arms and legs, a bit of dizziness, and an icky stomach.  But, no casualties!  We landed safe and sound, having experienced the summit of Denali minus the frostbitten toes and frozen eyelashes.

To give you a feel for Talkeetna (sort of a hippy-haven), I have included a moose sighting.

On our way out of Talkeetna, heading south to Anchorage, we stopped at an old Russian Orthodox cemetery in Eklutna dating back to 1650.  The dead were buried in little dollhouses called "spirit houses."  It is still an active cemetery with over 100 "houses" in it.  The size of the house is determined by the social status of the individual and the colors correspond to the clan affiliation (this is an area where natives were converted to Russian Orthodox christianity).  I really enjoyed it and could have spent hours here, taking photos and analyzing the little houses, very childlike.  

Wrapping up our time in Alaska was bittersweet.  As we arrived in Anchorage, cold and rainy, we realized that we were leaving a place that could have been "home."  We weren't ready to leave, didn't feel like we should leave, and yet our lives were calling us back to North Carolina.  We made some final stops in Anchorage, watching windsurfers in the bay, going for a walk, picking wildflowers (shhh, don't tell anybody, I don't think we were supposed to).  We will be back.  There is no question.

A New Addition to the Sand Family

Everyone....meet Chloe!

We (meaning Joseph) fell in love with this bunny at the county fair and picked her up from the breeder two days later. Isn't she the cutest?!?!

An Interesting Post on Driving Behavior

(article courtesy of Waste News)

The late great comedian George Carlin said that we all think everyone who drives faster than us is a maniac, and everyone who drives slower than us is an idiot. It´s funny and it´s true.

A new book out examines how different cultures help determine different driving habits. The book, "Traffic," by Tom Vanderbilt, states, for example, that drivers honk their horns all the time in Mexico but they don´t in Los Angeles. Countries like France and Belgium have more accidents than other European nations because they issue fewer traffic tickets.

The psychology of driving is such that it tends to make us anonymous, and that permits many people to behave more rudely with their cars than they ever would in face-to-face contact. But conversely, a broken traffic light generally returns us to polite social behavior as we take turns going through the intersection.

One theory presented that I´ll heartily agree with is that improvements in car safety have prompted people to drive more aggressively, resulting in more accidents. I would add that the explosion of SUVs on the road has added greatly to that tendency.

What does this have to do with the environment? Driving fast, accelerating and stopping, idling in congested traffic -- these are all great and largely underrated gas guzzling causes, which of course contributes hugely to carbon dioxide entering the air, resulting in pollution and global warming.

One interesting suggestion is congestion pricing, which would charge people to drive into high traffic areas. Such a fee might reduce traffic congestion -- and would help the environment as well.

Much of Vanderbilt´s book focused on the correlation between aggressive driving and safety, which involves environmental management as well. Safety and garbage trucks is a huge ongoing issue, and one of the problems is how the trucks affect the traffic around it. Aggressive driving to go around a waste truck leads to increased accidents.

If we really want to reduce our fuel consumption, we have to change behavior that´s ingrained in the American fabric. And driving fast will be one hard habit to break.

This Ain't Your Typical Dial-Up Service

Look closely......

A Snapshot of Amanda's Work Place

As seen from a visitor:

http://blog.lawsonforcongress.com/2008/08/12/a-snapshot-of-sustainability/

Living Green Expo - St. Paul, MN

http://www.livinggreen.org/

What an awesome event!  I volunteered there during my last two years at the U of MN.  They were able to recycle or compost 95% of the waste generated at the event; over 25,000 people were in attendance.  If you didn't make it out there this year, I would highly recommend attending next year.  If you can't wait until then, jump on their website to learn more about what sustainable organizations exist in your area and how you can help live a healthier, more self-sustaining lifestyle.

Link to Track Where Your Food Comes From

If you were curious about where your food travels from:

http://www.leopold.iastate.edu/resources/fruitveg/fruitveg.php

I have quite a few co-workers and friends that have committed themselves to the 100-mile diet.  I couldn't do it; I like rice.  Although, there is "local" rice grown in South Carolina, I cannot afford the $9 per pound rockstar price for a grain that is a large part of my diet.  

Once we have our own home, we will be able to grow and preserve a lot of what we eat.  I am even going to make Joseph's soy milk that he drinks every day.  Oh what fun!  We are both excited to get back to the earth, become homesteaders and learn to be self-sustaining.  There seems to be a push in my generation to regenerate our roots and connect back with nature.  What a great time in the world to be (re) learning how to provide for our own well-being.

Into the Wild!

Joseph and I are off to the big blue yonder, the land of the midnight sun....Alaska!

It has been a long time coming.  A place that I have always wanted to see.  One of many on my list of things to accomplish in life.  Joseph wants to see bears.  I want to see a touch a glacier.

Saturday is the summer solstice, the time when the sun doesn't even set in Alaska.  Be sure to bring your sleep mask, your black curtains, whatever.  It will be hard to fall asleep, but who would want to in a place like that.  Start in Anchorage, drive to Whittier where we jump in a cruise boat on the Prince William Sound to view tidewater glaciers: the kind that creak and groan as they inch towards the water, breaking off chunks of ice the size of a car.  Next, on the most beautiful drive in all of America, down the Kenai peninsula; destination, Homer, AK.  It is the end of the road at the end of all land on the peninsula.  An artist's community.  I expect it will be hard to leave.  Joseph will judge the place based on the quality of it's pottery, me, I base it on the quality of good cookin' and pristine landscapes.  We will spend three days there, visit an isolated island community, with floating art studios and coffee shop, via the mail delivery boat (aka "water taxi").  One of our days will be spent kayaking around the estuary, viewing sea life, rock formations, and volcanoes in the distance.  Next, we head up to Palmer, spending the whole day driving.  This the Matanuska Valley where you can find giant cabbages and zucchini squash the size of your head.  All due to the midnight sun and fertile soil.  From there, we traverse the lone Denali highway, preparing for our journey the following day into the Denali National Park.  We will hop onto a bus and ride into the park, 4 hours in one direction.  At any point can you get off the bus to hike around.  Soak in the landscape without a trace of human disturbance, view the wildlife: mountain goats, all sorts of birds, eagles, bear, moose.

A friend told me today that you are supposed to wear a bell for black bears and carry pepper spray for  grizzly bears.  And if you come across bear poop, you can tell the difference between the two bears.  The poop of the grizzly bear will have bells in it and smell like pepper spray.

At the end of our day of bus-riding and hiking, I'm sure we will be thrilled to be sitting by the river, relaxing.  The next day we travel south again to the small community of Talkeetna.  That night, we hop onto a small plane to take a sight-seeing flight around Mt. McKinley (known as Denali to the natives - which is it's original name) and then land on a glacier half way up the mountain.  It will be thrilling to say the least.  I'm quite nervous about that portion of the trip, but I'm sure it is well worth the stress.  A night in Talkeetna, and then back down to Anchorage where we spend two nights, riding bicycle around the coastal trail, a vigorous hike to the top of Flat Top Mountain to view the sun before going to bed, and then a tour around the Heritage Center where we will see totem poles and learn about Alaskan history and it's people.

It is one trip (of many) of a lifetime.  So amazing.  We won't get to see all of Alaska.  It's just another reason to go back.  

It's no fun being sick

For some reason, I got sick.  Don't know how, who/where it came from, or what it even was.  At first I thought it was the flu (cold-like, not stomach).  It didn't pass for two days.  I rarely get sick and when I do, it is rough.  It knocks me down and kicks me hard.  Not fun.  After it didn't go away for a few weeks, naturally, I was concerned.  I thought it had morphed into a cold, and then moved onto a full-blown sinus infection.  Although, the timing was a bit coincidental in that this time in NC is when the dreaded yellow pine pollen rains from the sky.  You have to use your windshield wipers to disperse the distinct granules from your front window in order to begin your drive.  It covers everything in sight, so don't forgot to bring in your clothes from the drying line as they will all be a lovely shade of yellow.

Allergies run in my family.  I previously had not shown any symptoms.  This was my fear.  I am allergic to North Carolina.  

Support Your Local Farmers!

Pre-reading instructions:  This post contains interactive links to some websites.  Please feel free to click and discover!  This will be a common occurrence in future blogs as well, for how do we learn if we do not share ? 

On a weekly basis I get an email summary from the Climate Crisis Coalition (I know, a lot of doom and gloom business, but how are we going to change the world if we are ignorant?)

This posting below really rang true with mine and Joseph's passions right now. It should be a focus for all of us. The only way to make change is to support local foods, local farms, buy organic when possible, and plant your own garden. One of the most patriotic things you can do is to have your own garden and provide some of your own food. Eating from your own garden also lessens the crunch on your bank account. You also know exactly what sort of chemicals or additives you use on your produce (I recommend not using any, just some manure, vermicompost(the website isn't mine, although it's coming!), and a good organic leaf mulch). Count how many fruits, vegetables, and other daily staples (and unnecessary calories added to our bodies) are from a different country. Herbicides, pesticides and fungicides that have been banned for decades (remember DDT?) are still being used in these countries. Join a Community Supported Agriculture program/farm in your area. They will deliver a box of fruits and veggies that are in season to your doorstep. Join the Slow Food Movement. Shop at your local farmer's market. Eat in season and eat a diverse range of foods and food groups. Your body is a temple. Eat to Live, not Live to Eat.

Take Note, Rome: Loss of Biodiversity and Sustainable Farming Practices Are Big Contributors to Hunger. Commentary by Gonzalo Oviedo, BBC News, June 2, 2008.

"We have a global food crisis... Unsustainable agricultural policies and technologies, inequitable trade rules, agricultural subsidies that distort the markets, and the systematic marginalization of small producers lie at the heart of [it]... [along with] chronic under-investment in agriculture in developing countries, and a real neglect of the basic premise that ecosystems have to be in good shape... The... massive expansion of agriculture [over the past 50 years]... has left us with 60% of all ecosystem services degraded, accelerated species extinction, and huge loss in genetic diversity. Currently, four plant species -- wheat, maize, rice and potato -- provide more than half of the plant-based calories in the human diet, while about a dozen animal species provide 90% of animal protein consumed globally. We have already lost three-quarters of the genetic diversity of agricultural crops. As the agricultural frontier has expanded, those farmers previously dependent on [more diverse crops] have converted to cash crops. As traditional varieties and breeds die out, so too do the traditional knowledge and practices of local farmers. Those same practices could now be critical in adapting to climate change." Gonzalo Oviedo is senior advisor on social policy with the International Union for Conservation of Nature (formerly the World Conservation Union).

My boss has just published his second book and it talks about just this concept. It is called "Small is Possible: Life in a Local Economy." Check it out here. Amazing. Inspiring.

We live the way we want to, in hopes that someone else will notice and ask why we are so happy. It is, then, that we will tell them.

She's got worms!

So, today I taught my first ever worm workshop. Well, actually co-taught. Brian Rosa is our local "worm wrangler" (from NC Department of Environment and Natural Resources Department of Pollution Prevention and Environmental Assistance). He specializes in organics recycling, specifically in vermiculture (using worms to compost organic waste). I assisted him in bringing together a four hour intensive on vermiculture in the home. At the end of the day, people left with a small worm bin complete with a half pound of worms to process all their kitchen/garden waste produced in their home.

In the greenhouse we built, we have the first permitted vermiculture project in North Carolina. That's a big deal. There are other operations that exist in the state but do not have the proper permits to allow them to market and sell their end product in accordance with state guidelines. It's very exciting and I try to hold the project to a high standard to maintain that sort of prestige that comes with being 'the first' in anything.

So, on this glorious day we held our worm workshop. Thirty eager bodies absorbed as much as they could on composting basics and worm care-taking. An excellent time was had by all. Brian did a fantastic job with the presentation. It is part of his job description to go around and do these talks so he has done the same spiel hundreds of times. I hope to be able to get to that point. Here is a link to photos from the event (it also goes to a flier for our next workshop coming up on April 5th):

http://gallery.mac.com/tschwerin#100176

Can't wait until the next workshop!