evan's ant village log

Day 270

So far the new defenses are holding. Either that or the predator is simply biding it's time before striking again.

I cut and stacked some firewood, and also started using the drawknife to remove the dark, mildew-spotted, outer layers of the posts in Siesta. While no small task, the result will be a much brighter and healthier space.

Day 271

Paul and Jocelyn had us over for a scrumptious dinner featuring chili and salad, and I got to use a mandolin to cut potatoes that were then deep fried to make homemade tater chips!

Also there were pfeffermoose cookies! And a birthday banana spice cake for Sharla's birthday!

Thanks for yet another lovely feast, Jocelyn!

Day 272

Happy Birthday, Sharla!

We went out to Missoula and saw the new Star Wars!

Also we did a bit of wandering through walmart observing the oversaturation of star wars merchandise. It was hard to find an aisle that didn't have something with a wookiee or a lightsaber on it...

You have a door for the duckfati, right? The wire and mesh is to keep them contained during the day, but you have a solid door for night time.

There's a reason we all know the phrase "sitting duck!"

Best of luck to you and your birds. I know the anguish of losing chickens (haven't had ducks yet). The best thing I've found is a good dog. Good dogs are not super easy to find.

Day 273

Pioneers Week starts today. As no one signed up in time, it'll be more of an alpha test than a beta test. Basically, I'll be testing myself, seeing if the achievements are achievable in the given time frame, and generally getting a feel for what it takes to put on a PEA Workshop. Hopefully this trial will yield some valuable information for both myself as a workshop teacher and also other folks who may be considering attending a PEA Workshop in the future.

I attempted to put myself in the shoes of someone who had never been here before, someone who doesn't already live here and have all their supplies here. I dressed in more layers than usual, to demonstrate the idea of seasonally appropriate attire. I packed a backpack with all the minimum supplies a workshop attendee is expected to bring. I hoofed all my gear to wofati 0.8, breaking a trail through the thick snow. It was a good workout and I was shedding layers by the time I arrived.

0.8 was already above-freezing inside when I arrived, despite going without heat for maybe a month. There's plenty of yoga space and crash space, and I think it'll make a comfortable and practical place for the workshops. I didn't follow the schedule exactly, but I prepped some firewood and I did some sharpening.

Day 274 (part 1)

The first full day of Pioneers Week.

I've been more or less following the schedule, or at least attempting to spend about as much time as allotted on each of the scheduled activities. So far the timing seems okay, but I decided to do the observation journaling before dawn instead of midday. Observation journaling is on the schedule as around noonish everyday, but I think more diverse observation times will be more valuable.

The idea with observation journaling is to go outside, find a place to sit, and observe nature. What do you see, hear, feel, etc.? And then write about it, as much or as little as you like. Poetry, prose, lists, whatever, just make observations and record them.

Here's my observation journal entry from this morning:

"I seem to be sitting on an upside down bucket in Lewisylvania, Ava.

The sky looks softly dark, blue, and gray. A few stars are still visible overhead, and the moon, a waning crescent in the southeast, is obscured by clouds.

My phone whistles at me, alerting me to a new message posted on permies. I mute it, hoping to avoid distractions for now. My goal is to observe nature.

Road noise, reminding me that civilization is still humming along, remains audible in the distance, mingling with the much closer sounds of the ducks stirring, reminding me that I am home.

The department of ducks is mildy disturbed at my presence this early in the morning. They heard me fill their water dish from the bucket on which I now sit, and they saw me through their gate checking up on them, but now they're quietening and seem to be returning to sleep.

My fingers are the only part of me that feels cold. I'm not wearing my gloves since they don't allow me to type on my phone, but besides that I am very thoroughly layered and I feel warm, despite sitting still in the below-freezing air.

The sky to the east is getting lighter, and the bright white blanket of snow all around reflects this new light. The pink and orange of dawn is arriving quickly.

The department of ducks makes an executive decision. It is morning, they are awake and they demand to be fed. I stand up, put on my gloves, and head back to Siesta to get the ducks their breakfast."

Reading your updates has me missing you guys and bringing my thoughts back to Wheaton labs. Putting on your workshop series sounds like fun, I hope you get some participants for the next weeks of activities. Your trek up to 0.8 reminds me of my near daily hike up to the ridge house, draging a sled full of supplies. I've got a whole bunch of new lumber to get up there, a few pieces at a time, but at least o get to sled back down the road :O it's almost controlable.

See you guys come springtime, and happy birthday Sharla!

Good to hear from you, Jesse! And having seen the road up to the ridge house, that's quite a trek, and it must be a blast sledding down! We might make it out to visit before winter's over, but if not, see you in spring!

Day 274 (part 2)

Pioneers Week.

I cut and limbed some junkpoles. And also started a batch of sour kraut! I've never made my own kraut before, but it seems super easy. I just sliced up a cabbage, massaged some salt into it, stuffed it into a couple jars, weighed it down with smaller jars, and then covered the jars with a breathable fabric. Apparently the salt makes the cabbage release it's liquids, and as long as you keep the cabbage submerged in this liquid, or brine, the good bacteria do their magic and turn the cabbage into kraut.

The temperatures in here are a little on the low side, so it will likely take longer than usual to ferment, but at the same time, it should last longer too. I guess we'll see.

Day 275 (part 1)

Pioneers Week.

Some of the PEA Achievements have a certain confluent tendency, in that with just a little forethought, in the course of achieving one it's possible to simultaneously achieve another.

For example: I cut and limbed at least 50 junkpoles, each at least 8ft tall, and once I put them together into a fence I'll have earned the Apprentice Fence-Builder Achievement (worth 1 Wood.) Because I mostly dragged whole trees over to a single spot before limbing them, I was able to concentrate my limb dropping in such a way as to cover a mostly contiguous area, about 250 square ft, earning me the Minor Mulcher Achievement, (worth 1 Grain.)

The first picture below illustrates what 50 junkpoles and ~250 sq ft of mulch looks like. Totally attainable, right?

I had a couple pb&j sandwiches for lunch. Sandwiches for lunch everyday for 5 days is an easy way to meet my food needs with little time and effort.

I did my observation journaling just before noon today:

"I seem to be sitting on the snow-covered ground in a grove of doug firs somewhere in the vast uncharted wilderness of Wheaton Laboratories.

I have just been limbing, cutting, and gathering fence material so I am breathing heavily and my heart is beating faster than usual. I am warm, too warm, so I remove my gloves, hat, and hood. My hood dumps the load of snow it was collecting.

I drink from my water bottle. The liquid is soothing on my dry mouth and throat. Soon my breathing gentles and my pulse slows to normal.

My saw is in the snow beside me, golden-brown bits of wood still stuck in its teeth like spinach, a frosting of snow on it's mirrorlike surface.

Immediately in front of me is a baby doug fir, less than 3ft tall and no bigger around than my thumb. Too small to be worth gathering for my fence.

I pick off a few fir needles and pop them in my mouth. The familiar astringency is still there, but doug fir needles taste better in the spring. This doug's winter needles are not as deep a green.

A tiny growth of yellow lichen clings to an elbow of the doug's branches. An even tinier growth of light teal lichen has established itself below the other. Dark green fibers of old man's beard moss weaves its way through the doug's needles. A few of the needles are trapped, along with dozens of little air bubbles, in a piece of ice, melted and refrozen snow that managed to filter down through the canopy above.

Looking up, I can barely see the blue sky through the gray branches and green needles.

A snowflake lands on the screen on which I am typing and instantly melts, leaving tiny prismatic droplets that quickly evaporate.

My bare neck is gently showered with a bit of snow shed from the branches above. It is refreshing, but I am cooling down now, reminding me to get back to work, so I stand up.

My legs and feet tingle from sitting cross-legged so I hold onto the baby doug's mother for support while my legs wake back up. She is plenty sturdy at 7 or so inches in diameter, even with a substantial curve in the base, and she stands more than 20 ft tall, reaching for the sun."

I find much pleasure in your posts, thanks. I'm getting a bit older now but I still put in a couple of hours of wintery snowy work in the balsem fir. I love to snowshoe in with my axe and saw- stamp down a work area. take of the snowshoes and thin the woods. I also like to nibble the fir, you can also nibble the old mans beard (usnea) just a little it's medicinal but don't nibble the yellow lichen.