At the 2014 Sustainable Agriculture Conference: Plant Breeding Workshop

This year's SARE conference, officially the 10th annual Alaska Sustainable Agriculture Conference, hosted by CES, is being held at the Wedgewood Visitor's Center in Fairbanks. The conferences start with a pre-conference workshop day, usually one full-day workshop and one or two half-day workshops. This year's workshops included one on plant breeding and one on record keeping and taxes for agricultural businesses.

I'm at the second half of the preconference workshop on participatory plant breeding, taught by Jim Myers of Oregon State University. We've been covering plant genetics and the difference between inbreeders (selfers) and outbreeders (crossers). It's a bit of an intense short course! I was taking notes earlier for this workshop, but lost them all on the laptop computer when I shut down for lunch. Lunch was pretty good, especially the potato chowder made from local potatoes! I went back for three helpings. (Several businesses contributed locally grown food to the lunch spread, including Basically Basil, Johnson's Family Farms, and several others. Unfortunately, I don't have the list. I'll post the company names here as I find out.)

Fortunately, Myers gave us all a CD with the full notes from his Horticulture 433 class, which is what he condensed part of his workshop from. It describes various systems of classification, from frost or cold tolerance, optimum temperature range, parts used for food, cultural groups, and botanical classification. There's 187 pages' worth of information on specific vegetables. It makes me want to cackle aloud.

Okay, so back to the notes I took from the workshop.

Myers gave us a short overview of the history of genetics and breeding in general, and how Gregor Mendel and his famous pea experiments were rediscovered in the early 1900s. We reviewed dominant and recessive genes, homozygosity and heterozygosity, and terms like allele and locus. Quite intense, as I said, and I won't go into the full details here (I can't remember them all, for one thing), but I'll explain a few things we went over.

In genetics, plants can be divided into those that have evolved such that they require no or very few crossing with other plants to maintain fertility and vigor (inbreeders or self-breeders, selfers for short), and those that do require it (out breeders or out crossers).

Inbreeders include:

• tomatoes
• eggplants
• most peppers
• beans (but not Scarlet Runner beans) (Fava beans are in between an inbreeder and an outbreeder, so one can use a small stock but not as small as true inbreeders.)
• peas 
• lettuces

Selfing a plant that is an F1 hybrid is a way to stabilize a variety for release. "F1" means the first generation between the cross between two distinct parents. Your hybrid starts out completely heterozygous (mixed genes of all sorts of traits). To make the plant breed true, or stabilize, breeders typically self 5 to 6 generations.

Nightshade family flowers in general have a higher percent of outcrossing, but still maintain selfing. Tomatoes may vary: some tomatoes have a style that sticks out beyond the flower (wild types), which will lend them to outcrossing.

Outcrossers include:

• mustards & brassicas, arugula
• melons & cucumbers, curcubits
• mustards have a sporophytic incompatibility: chemical self-pollination prevention
• corn (each seed has an individual silk down which pollen may travel)
• artichokes, daisies, sunflowers
• carrots, Queen Anne's Lace (protrandry: wind pollination)
• chenopod flowers
• onion family flowers: protrandry, vegetative bulblets (walking onions or Egyptian garlic also)

Financial finagling in food and sustainability

Week three of the Comparative Farming and Sustainable Food Systems class proceeded on in fascinating detail. We've been talking about sustainability and the design of food and farm systems. Sustainability can be thought of as the interactions of cultural, economic, social, institutional, and energy components in a system that have positive effects on the present, without compromising the future. The design of such a system has an end of healthy ecosystems and healthy communities, creating wellbeing for people and their environment in both the short and long term. Cultural are distinguished from social components in that the former have to do with identity (traditions, value systems, language), while the latter have to do institutions and systems of organization (political structure, systems of control and distribution).

One of the topics that came up during the course of discussion was the food price spikes we're seeing lately and the resultant riots around the world. The professor handed out an article on this from the January 15 New Zealand Herald:

The food riots began in Algeria more than a week ago, and they are going to spread. During the last global food shortage, in 2008, there was serious rioting in Mexico, Indonesia and Egypt. We may expect to see that again, only more widespread.

The article talks about poverty, climate change, world population, global consumption patterns, floods, drought, imports, local crop failures. Interestingly, it does not talk about commodity speculation in grains and other foodstuffs. I recalled a story written for Harper's Magazine by Frederick Kaufman about the food riots of 2008 and what led up to them: he specifically focused on the role of companies like Goldman Sachs and the issue of commodities futures in wheat and corn in the food crisis. The title says it succinctly: "The Food Bubble: How Wall Street starved millions and got away with it." (PDF)

Investors were delighted to see the value of their venture increase, but the rising price of breakfast, lunch, and dinner did not align with the interests of those of us who eat.

I did a little searching on the web and found the letter from Steve Strongin on behalf of Goldman Sachs in response to the article, Kaufman's reply to that, and an interview with Kaufman by Juan Gonzalez on Democracy Now!

The economics of sustainability has to do with full costing: what's known as the triple bottom line or the related integrated bottom line. We talked about economy of scale (Mike Emers of Rosie Creek Farm is helping to teach the class, and he spoke about this): maximizing your inputs (money, equipment, time, labor, etc.) for the most efficient and best levels of use for what you have—a balancing of costs and benefits. Each size of operation has an economy of scale that best suits it. Craig Gerlach brought up "neighboring," a term I hadn't heard before. This is a practice where neighbor farmers will work in common to help each other. For example, community harvesting: farmers in a particular local showing up at one farm to help harvest that farmer's fields, then moving on to the next farm in a given area, and so on, until all of their fields are harvested. Bringing in the harvest is an old tradition, as is barn-raising. Farmers may also share equipment.

in a food system, how do the local, regional, and global food systems link and interact? How do the scales of agriculture affect diversity in ecology, society, culture? We talked about the size of a farm affecting its ecological diversity: monoculture tends to be the rule on the extremely large farm. Gerlach hastened to point out that the modern industrial standard of monoculture and resource exploitation could be replaced with a restorative system, using organic and rotational methods, on the very large as well as the small farm, and that diversification of crops can be done over time as well as land area.

"Nature is the model."

This led us to talking about the plains vs. the prairie, and the idea of place-based development of breeds and farming methods. Gerlach mentioned the work of Wes Jackson, who became concerned about erosion of topsoil in the US (famously in the Dust Bowl of the thirties, but still continuing), and ended up founding an organization called The Land Institute. Most grains we use are annuals; we till the land, sow the seed, harvest the crop, and then plow under the stubble. The institute describes the situation and their mission this way:

No method for perpetuating agricultural productivity exists. Our goal is to improve the security of our food and fiber source by reducing soil erosion, decreasing dependency upon petroleum and natural gas, and relieving the agriculture-related chemical contamination of our land and water. Our specific research is an innovation for agriculture, using "nature as the measure" to develop mixed perennial grain crops as food for humans where farmers use nature as a standard or measure in making their agronomic decisions. Over 75 percent of human calories worldwide come from grains such as wheat and corn, but the production of these grains erodes ecological capital. Our research is directed toward the goal of having conservation as a consequence of agricultural production.

The classic documentary, The Plow that Broke the Plains, brought the problem of tilling and erosion to public attention in 1936. The sound is pretty bad on this, but it's an interesting piece.



"A healthy, well-integrated community needs to be integrated with its food," said Gerlach, and I agree. That means the consequences of agricultural economics has to be connected to the consequences of agriculture. Food, economics, human happiness: you can't rip off one sector without hurting the others.

Previous posts in this series:

Food systems, policy, and foodsheds
Food systems and shizen
Sustainable food systems class

Cross posted at SNRAS Science & News.

Sustainable food systems class

Well, I'm going back to school, or at least, I'm taking a course for credit. Craig Gerlach is teaching a course at UAF, Comparative Farming and Sustainable Food Systems. This is a 400-level undergraduate class cross-listed in geography, natural resources management, and cross-cultural studies. As you may have surmised, I am very interested in food systems and agriculture and food issues these days, and when, in the course of my work for the School of Natural Resources and Agricultural Sciences, Craig asked me to make a poster for the class, I decided that it sounded so interesting that I wanted to take it. Here's the description:

This exciting course explores the principles of food systems geography and food security, with cross-cultural examinations of dietary traditions, poverty, hunger, equity, and food access and distribution. What can be done about “real world” food, farming, and agricultural problems? Where is the contemporary agroecological system strong or weak with respect to restoration and renewability? How can we be better educated and more innovative in dealing with food production, distribution, access, and the promotion of ecosystem health? We will compare agricultural systems in the context of social, ecological, and economic sustainability. Alaska and other high-latitude food systems will be considered, including country food, wild game harvest, and rural to urban nutrition transition.

The booklist is pretty cool, too:

• Agroecology: The Science of Sustainable Agriculture, by Miguel Altieri (1995)
• The World Is Not for Sale: Farmers Against Junk Food, by José Bové and François Dufour
• Farmer Jane: Women Changing the Way We Eat, by Temra Costa (2010)
• The Fatal Harvest Reader, edited by Andrew Kimbrell (2002) [also, there's Fatal Harvest: The Tragedy of Industrial Agriculture]
• Diet for a Hot Planet: The Climate Crisis at the End of Your Fork and What You Can Do About It, by Anna Lappé (2010)
• Where Our Food Comes From: Retracing Nikolay Vavilov's Quest to End Famine, by Gary Nabhan (2009—this one was reviewed very favorably by Phil Loring in The Ester Republic)
• In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto, by Michael Pollan (2008—I have this one already, but haven't yet read it)
• Sex, Seeds, and Civilization: How the Hidden Life of Plants Has Changed Our World, by Peter Thompson and Stephen Harris (2010)

There are several other interesting texts on the syllabus.

I am a little intimidated about the work and reading load that this course will require to do right, but the topic is of such interest and is so pertinent to my job at the U that I am plunging on with it. I've decided that I will blog about the course as it goes along, too—it will be a good way to organize my thoughts and work for the class, I think.

Library, gazebo, garden

Library:

This last week I spent considerable time updating the John Trigg Ester Library website and the Friends of the Ester Library website. They both still look a bit funky to me, but they're serviceable, and there's a lot of good information on line now. The monthly board meeting is coming up tomorrow; these meetings have been running two hours, up from one hour or less when we first started meeting. There's been so much going on (fundraising, designwork, construction & work parties, nonprofit applications, etc.) that we end up not having enough time to get through evverything.

Matt Prouty has been working on the revision of the library plans to one storey, and should have them for us at tomorrow's board meeting, along with the new cost estimate. The site plan is the big thing needed, so that we can get on with our driveway-building and site-clearing. I haven't done any scything of the grass jungle in the drive this year because I figure that there will be massive dirtwork done soon. I'm hoping we can have a tree-felling extravaganza in the next two weeks.

Gazebo:

The gazebo is really part of the library project, but since it's a separate structure, and smaller, and almost done, I think of it separately. We'll probably have a work party or two, coming up July 24 and 31. This will be pretty cool, actually. We will be doing the following tasks:

• building benches
• cleaning up the woods
• making a two-sided 4x8-foot corkboard to put between two of the gazebo posts
• putting in the final ties on the ceiling
• taking out the center post
• putting the metal skirting on the posts

Hans and I planted the hanging baskets and four flowerpots at the gazebo this summer, and I've been going down there once a week or so to water them (most of the baskets are under the overhang of the gazebo roof--a couple will catch a little rain, but not enough). There's a bunch of wood scraps and leftover pieces from the roofing last year that need to get cleaned up, and plenty of corks and peeled logs. We'll need to buy some sealant or stain or something to help preserve the benches.

Garden:

The garden is beginning to explode. (Fortunately, I have a cookbook for just this type of emergency.) The potatoes are HUGE. I hope all that energy they're putting into leaves and stems is translating into lots of potatoes underground. I managed to give/sell the last of my extra tomatoes and corn yesterday, but I still have to get sufficient dirt to plant the rest of the tomatoes I have that still need transplanting into big buckets. Lots of little green tomatoes all over the yard. The beans (black coco bush) have finally started to flower, and the fava beans are blooming and making lots of pods. The brassicas keep wanting to bolt, though. (Cabbages are still holding out.)

Fruit, fruit, glorious fruit

Here's a really interesting little slideshow on fruit and seeds and the techniques plants use to spread their progeny. One of the fruits that interested me was the citron called Buddha's hand:



You learn something new every day!

A weekend of gardening

Taking advantage of this amazing heat wave, I've been doing a LOT of gardening this weekend, mostly in the form of watering and transplanting. On Saturday Kate Billington and I took some greenery down to the park and planted sunflowers, nasturtiums, pansies, petunias, a cosmos, calendulas (possibly--we weren't sure what they were, actually), peas, and a whole lot of perennial seeds and some anemone corms. It was quite the production, hauling the water from the fire station (after spending some minutes filling up the jugs and pitchers and the washtub borrowed from Lisa Sporleder) on the little cart (also borrowed from Lisa) up through the driveway and along the bike path and then down to the park itself, all ever so slowly so as not to spill that precious water. Kate's been working on getting a big tank for the park (the Valentines may loan theirs, which is 250 gallons, or the ECA may just buy one from George, although that one's only 100 gallons) so we don't have to do this elaborate haulage routine. Kate's also planning on buying George's old truck to use for, among other things, park work.

I've been having to do much more watering than usual, as many of my plants are in small containers (particularly those I am readying for the Ester market) and dry out quickly in this heat: baby's breath, nasturtiums, and my infant late-sprouting nightshades. The tomatoes are hardened and a nice dark green, but they've started robbing their cotyledons of nutrients, so I mixed up some worm castings tea to fertilize them with. I'm hoping that will help.

On Monday, Kate and I went up to Calypso Farm for their spring plant sale, where I picked up some cauliflowers and summer squash, and one acorn squash. (Also a t-shirt.) I had finally given up on my own squash, French Ronde zucchinis and patty pan squash, as I had planted them a month ago and they hadn't done anything. Ironically, upon returning from Calypso, I discovered that two of the French Rondes that I'd saved from seed the year before had sprouted just that morning! The new seed packet of French Rondes still haven't come up. Now, however, I have hope that they might come up after all, if I can just keep them watered enough. The new squash, Magdas, I planted in the bed by the firepit benches, since the Chioggia beet seeds that I'd planted there earlier didn't appear to be doing anything.

This morning I brought in one of my currant tomatoes to Jeff Werner at the university; he's been looking for a small sweet tomato that can be grown in the area, and hadn't heard of this type. It's a different species than your regular tomato: Lycopersicon pimpinellifolium. The plant is really tiny, just getting the second of its first set of true leaves, but it's a nice dark green and looks pretty healthy. I get my tomato seeds from Tomato Growers Supply or Seeds of Change. These ones came from seed I bought from Tomato Growers Supply. I found an interesting history of the tomato on the web while looking up currant tomatoes.

The Ester Market rides again

Yep, we're bringing it back. Monique Musick is once again the chief organizer, but we are without a market manager (Nannette can't do it this time around). We've got a survey for market vendors (what day of the week, start dates, how many times a month, that sort of thing). I updated the website.

I plan to take my humongous numbers of tomato sprouts and offer them for sale at the opening day. I've gone rather overboard in this area, given the limited area in the house that is sunny, cat-free (relatively), warm at night, and okay to get muddy and composty and all that. I also have plans for some flower seeds.

Photographic proof to follow in future posts.

In praise of dawdling

I am a dawdler at heart. Always was, when I was a kid. This feeling that plagues me nowadays, as an adult, of having Too Much To Do, gives me a panicky feeling that I hate. Paul Adasiak, over at the Fairbanks Pedestrian, hit it on the head with his post on the metaphor, "Life is a Highway," when he described it as odious.

Indeed.

So we zoom from birth to death as fast as we can with as few stops along the way as possible when we live our lives as though they are highways. And occasionally we get stuck in traffic jams. But basically, we're in a metal box of a life on a concrete, ugly, high-speed and pretty much pointless rush to get nowhere.

Nuh-uh. That is not the life for me. Yesterday I had a perfectly delightful, very productive, very slow and dawdle-filled day. I even took a nap, but I got rid of a huge pile of paper trash, planted seeds of various sorts for my garden, swept up, put away dishes, got the mail, and tidied. I did it slowly and with a great sense of satisfaction. I made quite a bit of vitamin D for myself. (It was sunny, and I made sure to stand in it for a while.)

It's amazing how much one can get done without noticing it when one dawdles and meanders and putters. And it's very relaxing. I always feel as though I'm in a huge stressful rush at my campus job (and frequently with the Republic), and I don't think it's very good for my health.

Fire at the Stones' house

Sunday afternoon was a bit exciting at the Stones' house. A stack fire caught the roof on fire, and four fire departments came to the rescue: Ester, Chena-Goldstream, University, and Steese. The Fairbanks Fire Department was at the ready, too, just in case, but somebody had to sit tight to man the rest of the area. They had a backup tanker (Kris Chandler, Ester resident and Fairbanks Fire employee, had to stay at the station and grit his teeth while a house in his back yard burned).

There are now three big holes in the roof and lots of charring (and busted windows and frozen plants and lots of ice), but at least the Stones still have a house, unlike Kim and Kevin, who lost everything in the house fire that they suffered the week before. The neighborhood showed up to help carry out burnables and freezeables (both in the form of Ester volunteer firefighters and your general neighbor-types) after it was safe to go in. We saw Billingtons, Camerons, neighbor Sandy, Hillary (she gave me and our various shop-vacs a ride up), Chris Martian, and a bunch of people I didn't know by name. Tom Richardson, Mark Simpson, Ryan Williams, Cameron Wohlford, JD Ragan, Dan Weatherly, and a few others I knew were the firefighters there, plus a bunch of others I didn't know (probably from the other volunteer fire departments).

It was pretty amazing. The firefighters did a great job, with not too much water damage (although the windows blew out when the steam hit them). One of the trucks got stuck on the way out (the Stones' driveway is a killer). Thank god for the Ester Volunteer Fire Department--and all the rest of them who showed up. Amy and Don got photos, some of which will be in the January Republic.

The next day a few of us went up and tidied the studio so it is now semi-habitable (this is where we hauled all the stuff the night before). I haven't talked to the Stones yet, but man, what a thing to come home to (they were in Utah--and their housesitter was none too happy either).

Pre-party cleanup

Hans and I have learned that, aside from keeping the dishes under control because we need something to eat off of, really the only way that we get motivated to clean the house is to have a party. So that is what we are doing this Saturday. This is ostensibly my (very) belated birthday party, but since my birthday was a month and a half ago, that's just a token excuse. We just want to have a clean house.

So yesterday I laid down sawdust next to the raised beds and on the path in the garden. The grass from the lawn is invading the herb bed with a vengeance, and making some serious inroads into the lettuce bed. It was amazing how much sunnier the beds became when I stomped down the grass and weighed it down with a pile of wood shavings. We'll see if this keeps the weedery down next year, too.

I cleaned up the greenhouse and the atrium, and Hans hauled away a carload of trash. I picked a handful of berries, and tidied the plastic bag avalanche (no pictures for the public of that monstrosity, alas. Then I cooked an absolutely fabulous dinner featuring roast slab pork and orangey-pink borscht-like lentil soup (with local vegetables, except for the lentils and leftover chicken bits). The Noble Spousal Unit did the dishes!

I've put a paper plate up in the bar ("Transvesterites Welcome") but people don't seem to realize it's happening. So, for those of our friends and relations who may be interested, it starts at 4 pm and goes on until the cows come home. Potluck, with games and music and movies all night: The Rocky Horror Picture Show, To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything Julie Newmar, The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert, and Kinky Boots. Ought to be a lineup to frighten the local homophobes away, I hope.

Today we'll continue the Grand Cleanup. Mopping is on the horizon. In the meantime, I'm going back to bed, as it's still really way too early in the morning, especially since I woke up at 4:30 am (too much rum last night--gives me insomnia).

Ester market today

Yep, the third Third Thursday is upon us, and the August Ester Village Farmers and Craft Market. We've had two so far, one in June and one in July. They've been fun, and last time we had live music, too. Here's some photos from the previous ones.



In June, Tobias (ye olde Badde Whyte Dogge) became cover dog for The Ester Republic with this classic canine pose (photo taken by Amy Cameron).

The market was pretty small to start, but we did better than expected and it was a nice sunny day. We set up on the lawn off the village square. Kate Billington and I shared a tent; I sold books and papers and plant starts and library t-shirts, and she sold spices and plant starts and library t-shirts. We did pretty good.



In July, we had several new vendors (twice as many, in fact). This was Jessica and Sammi's table (photo taken by Monique Musick).

And of course, we had greenery, from Matt Springer and Rosie Creek Farm, and other food items (honey, spices, etc.). I spent too much...



This is Amy and her kids near the Rosie Creek Farm stand (photo by Monique).

Gazebo progress

So yesterday, again after a hastily gobbled open-faced sandwich dinner, Hans and I headed down to work on the gazebo some more. On the way we saw a porch gathering of guys--including Bill! so we stopped and said hi. Jim Smith had invited us to a bratwurst barbeque at Bill and Michelle's place a couple of days ago, but we didn't have complete directions, so we spent a while driving around Fiddle in Cripple Creek, which was sort of a pleasant exploration, but didn't get us any brats. I gave Bill a hug and told him I was glad he wasn't dead. Hell, what else can you say to a guy who damn near froze to death?

Anyway, we hung out for a bit and drank red wine and apricot beer (I avoided the peanuts), and then went off to the gazebo. It is really wonderful how many people stop to tell Hans how good it looks or how much they appreciate the work he's doing. One woman complimented us on it and asked if it was a bus stop. I said, no, it's just a gazebo for the library, but actually, she's right: it could be a bus stop, too. I'm realizing just how useful this little place will be: bus stop, music chamber, hangout, reading room, wedding chapel, playhouse…and I bet there will be scads of people using it during the Fourth of July.

I finished painting the first coat of stain on all the boards and did the second coat on the first batch, the ones nearest the gazebo. Hans got a bunch of old cedar shiplap from Mark Simpson (donated for the cause) and put up the planter hooks. He put up the planters, and we stood and admired the rather gazebo-like effect for a bit before heading up to the Eagle to celebrate. It's going to look pretty good when it's done.

Hans and I were thinking about maybe dedicating it or naming it for some local woman, perhaps Ida Clausen. Margaret Rogers suggested that we ask the Flodins if there was anybody they might want to consider dedicating it to, since it's their land. My opinion is that it should be a woman, somebody of importance to the community, and someone who is not alive anymore. Alaska Linck? Ida? Mrs. Pidge? Rose Berry? Ester and Eva? I'd also kind of like to have a little transfer of title/dedication ceremony to break the gazebo in. It could be fun.

Oh: I found my camera. Or rather, Frank found it and gave it to Monique who gave it back to me. So once I get the images off it I can show you what we've been up to!

Smoke, rain, and the garden

Rained again last night. It looks a bit drab outside, although there's a touch of blue fringe at the ridgeline, so perhaps we'll get some more sun again today. I woke up (POING!) at 3:30 this morning, and, not being able to go back to sleep, updated the website, fixing a bunch of bad links on my link pages and adding an article to the February contents page (I had inexplicably left out the "Fairbanks Spring Hysteria" article by my dad). It was a bit chilly, so I lit the fire and burned a bunch of junk mail and cardboard boxes to heat up the house a little bit. Big billows of white smoke are now drifting through the woods; I can see it through the bedroom windows.

Since we are using the outhouse (it being summer, and the septic line not yet being unfrozen), I had to make the morning trip outside, and checked out the sprout status of the garden. The lettuces I got from the EMCE planting day on Sunday have quintupled in size, except for one, which has only tripled (!). The dinosaur kale (apparently a variety rediscovered/redeveloped by Frank Morton of Wild Garden Seed) has straightened up and is thinking about getting bigger, possibly.

And then there's the seeds I planted in flats in the atrium: five zucchinis, with what looks like three more throwing the dirt around enough to show life underground, at least twenty sunflowers (Evening Suns and Jerusalem Lemon Yellows), and a whole lot of nasturtiums (Alaska variegated, although I can't see any variegation yet, and some sort of trailing mix nasturtium). No sign of the catnip or sweet marjoram or gem marigolds yet, though. Nor of my purple Columbian fava beans—but they like it really warm, so it's no wonder they're not up yet.

I'm pretty excited by the zucchinis: although the germination seems slow, they are from saved seed, and I haven't done that for a long, long time. I'm hoping to grow enough to can or freeze a bunch for winter--and to keep saving seed. These zucchinis are pretty tasty, and they stay solid and good even up to double-softball size. They aren't the giant zucchinis that you'll see attempting to squash the Tanana Valley every summer, but they get big enough!

Planting day, gazeboed, and sunny sunny summer

WHEEEEEE! Oh, man, it is sunny and warm and feels GREAT! I just LOVE this time of year: not too many bugs, the butterflies are out (saw my first one, an Alaska blue, down by the post office a few days ago--here's another nice photo), no smoke, hardly any rain, very few tourists, and it's not too hot! Well, the frost the other night was a bit chilly, but still!

A whole bunch of people turned up (late, of course, most of them--no need to hurry) for planting flowers around the village on Sunday. (This was the first EMCE event.) Mayor Hannah and Monique went off to Plant Kingdom to buy a bunch of flowers for the Eagle and the village, so at first it was just me and my nasturtiums and sunflowers and Scott Allen. Then Kate showed up, and then Maggie, and then the ball got rolling. Richard Gumm brought a bunch of vegetable-rated municipal compost. George Gianakopoulos showed up in straw hat and with a humongous amount of nasturtiums, marigolds, lettuces, sunflowers, and mysterious mixed whatnots from Calypso Farm, donated to the village! Dwight Deely brought petunias. Then Hannah and Monique came back with a whole flat of lobelias and some other goodies. (I took a bunch of photos, but now of course I can't find my camera so you'll all have to wait until later to see the festivities.)

So we were mixing dirt and sand and compost and peat and putting it in buckets and pots and old oil drums and boxes and who knows whatall and then planting a dizzying selection of flowering greeneries. Hannah and I planted stuff in the buckets around the old post office/library annex (that's officially the Old Post Office Espresso Library Annex, or OPOELA for those of you who like acronyms). Scott drove Kate and I down Village Road, stopping every twenty feet or so so that we could unload yet another basket or bucket and place it by the roadside. It was a blast, and I forgot clean about going over to Molly's at 3 to review the paperwork for our ECA nonprofit status. I was planting until after 6 pm!

Kate and I went down to the park and planted a couple of the planters. One of them we stuffed full of sunflowers. Somebody, Ruth, I think, had prepared the soil (but there was no sign of the perennials we'd planted last year, so they may have gotten dug up by accident, alas). She'd planted a park planter before the big frost, but everything looked pretty good, actually.

We brought eight hanging baskets down to the gazebo to hang up once we get hooks (and the rafters have been varnished). The old partially collapsed 55-gallon oil drum that was there and filling up with leaves we cleaned up a bit and filled up with dirt, and planted with a selection of mystery plants. Plus a nasturtium. Or two.

Hans has been working like mad on the gazebo, and now all the copper is on the cupola and the edge of roof, and a lot of the siding has been given its first coat of stain (I did a bunch of it yesterday afternoon and will finish it up tonight). He finished up the bracing yesterday (it looks so COOL!) and is going to work on the rough sanding tonight. Kate gave him some iced tea from the planting day; we drank some that day and then took the rest home. I took home the leftover pots and flats and a few flowers that didn't get planted, and then yesterday planted the remainder. Hannah and I brought the last few pots over to the OPOELA.

And I finally planted my garden, such as it is, with some of the leftover lettuce starts. My sunflowers and nasturtiums are finally coming up--I've got flats and flats of them. I'm going to be in real trouble once they start needing permanent homes. The squash seeds I saved from last year, French ronde de Nice that I got originally from Seeds of Change, FINALLY started to sprout. I was afraid that they'd maybe not ripened enough and were infertile, but nope, it looks like I'm going to be zucchiniing the neighborhood later this summer...

Gazebo work continues

Hans has been working hard on the gazebo. Part of the sticking point now is copper flashing for the cupola (he got part of it covered last night but ran out--looks pretty cool! more pictures to come) and sanding the posts. It's a slow slog. Here's where the gazebo construction was as of May 22, with the tar paper laid on:



and the view of the ceiling from underneath (still not prettied up):



Here's a view of the Ester Post Office from the side of the gazebo:



At the moment, Hans isn't sure that he wants to enclose the gazebo; it may be nicer to keep it open and airy. People have been talking about the gazebo as an Ester Visitor's Center, which sort of gives me the heebie-jeebies. Its main function is as, well, a gazebo, affiliated with the Ester library. So it's going to have a bulletin board, bookshelves, brochure racks, benches, flower pots, and--who knows--the occasional wedding or reading group or music practice in it. It'll probably serve as a waiting spot for people catching buses or rides with friends. Big gazebos can handle bands and receptions, little gazebos can handle a few people or quiet events.

It's pretty exciting to see the progress. I called up Larry and Gail Flodin, who own the property it sits on, to let them know that actual progress on the construction was indeed progressing.

Genetically modified crops not so great after all

And not for the reason you'd normally expect to hear from my mouth. It turns out that GM crops just don't produce as well as normally bred strains, even ones that are almost identical to the modified ones.

Genetic modification actually cuts the productivity of crops, an authoritative new study shows, undermining repeated claims that a switch to the controversial technology is needed to solve the growing world food crisis.

The study - carried out over the past three years at the University of Kansas in the US grain belt - has found that GM soya produces about 10 per cent less food than its conventional equivalent, contradicting assertions by advocates of the technology that it increases yields.

This holds true for other crops, too, such as cotton.

But getting the news out can be a little difficult when a very rich corporation is involved. The phenomenon is still being studied, of course.

What a weekend!

Well, we had the library lallapalooza. THIRTY people volunteered! it was amazing. People walked in the door during the event and said, "What can I do to help?" It was great. A couple people who'd said they were going to come weren't able to make it (the flu), but a whole lot more who hadn't let us know showed up, so we certainly weren't short-handed.

We earned better than $5,600!

Hodgepodge the Patchwork Chinese Dragon was draped about the room and helped muffle the echoes, and so the sound quality was better than in previous years. There was a definite food theme to the auction this year: we had gift certificates from Wendy's, a spice basket, lots of coffee (College Coffeehouse, Alaska Coffee Roasting Company, North Pole Coffee) and coffee mugs and teacups, a certificate for a gourmet dinner for six made by the Ester Fire Department's station manager Tori Clyde, and some Russian laquered spoons and carved wooden mugs.

There were lots of good books, too, including one by Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton (yes, that Bulwer-Lytton): Harold, the Last of the Saxon Kings. Although, given the author, I'm not sure "good" is the right adjective in this particular case. But there were Alaska books and cartoon books (and a cartoonist) and kids' books (Chérie Stihler was there signing her books).

And we had a couple of bidding wars. The best, however, was for a bumper sticker from the original Ester Howling Dog Saloon. We filled up an entire bid sheet and it finally sold for $60. There was some fierce competition among three or four bidders for it, but now it hangs behind the bar at the Golden Eagle.

The lasagne feed was amazing: great salads and lasagnes and a lot of chocolate desserts. We had South African wines from David Stone for auction and a huge donation from Gold Hill Liquor of wines, some of which were auctioned and some used for beverages. Mary Ireland donated plates and utensils and these great colorful plastic cups (I didn't know they came in pink!), and Gerry Nordmann coordinated the whole food table.

Many of the volunteers hadn't worked on the lallapalooza before, and I was impressed by their energy and just how well we all did. Melinda Harris coordinated the auction, Gerry was the sustenance czar, Mary was a general dogsbody and floater, Al Klek and Mike were tote-and-haul guys, Birch Pavelsky was a greeter, Cécile Lardon and Rachelle Dowdy helped man the pay table, Hillary Schafer of the Golden Eagle made coffee, and even a couple of little kids, Tala and Cole Ireland, were a big help in putting up signs and helping out their grandma. And then there were a ton of people who had done it before, of course: Oliver and Margaret Rogers, Hans and me, Kate Billington, Mali Noreen, Judie Gumm. I can't even remember everybody (I'm still sort of recovering from it).

It went smoothly in comparison to previous years, the music was great, and people seemed to have a good time.

And that's the important thing!

Librarypalooza auction items

Just in case you were wondering if it was worth it to show up to the John Trigg Ester Library Lallapalooza & Book Bash, here's a few more items we're putting up for auction:

• tickets for two to the Palace Theatre
• an Ivory Jacks sweatshirt & a $25 gift certificate for lunch
• two one-pound bags of Ethiopian coffee from the Alaska Coffee Roasting Company
• a bottle of Aurora Borealis merlot from Goldstream General Store
• introductory flight lesson in a Cessna 172 plus a 6-month subscription to Flight Training Magazine, from Warbelow's Air Ventures
• a water fillup gift certificate from Goldstream Water
• jewelry from Judie Gumm Designs
• artwork from Jamie Smith
• books from the Ester Republic Press, including certificates for three books not yet published: freeze-frame IV & Nuggets and Jorgy
• a subscription to The Ester Republic
• a collection of hot, rare, & exotic spices, with recipes and wine (this basket's got some rarities in it--you're not going to find garam masala and other such spices in Fairbanks anywhere else)
• a basket of live plants (spring!)
• a basket of family movies & popcorn & theatre candy
• campy horror movies (Santa and the Martians!)

Not only that, but the lasagne feed menu is looking pretty good, with a variety of white and red sauces, salads, bread, and beverages.

Invasive Weed Task Force

Several years ago, I wrote an editorial about the dandelion-digging squads uprooting the dandelions of Denali. I like dandelions, and in that editorial I pointed out that really, the way to stop the spread of invasive weeds was to keep the people and particularly their vehicles out of the park. My editorial was in defense of dandelions and other colonizers, and a bit of a tirade against monoculture.

Yet, invasive weeds really ARE a problem. And they're a problem in Ester. This last summer, I noticed that the white sweetclover had begun to creep up Stone Road and was crowding out everything else. The purple vetch is starting to strangle the willows and grasses and other things on Village Road. And the Siberian pea has finally escaped Frank's yard and Gambleton (aka Bachelor Row on Alpha Way) and started showing up in the woods amongst the highbush cranberries.

I dread the thought of all our local berry bushes vanishing under the onslaught of inedible northern kudzu equivalents.

So I did a lot of yanking of white sweetclover last summer. But it went to seed before I could get all of it, and so next year, the rosebushes are going to be hard pressed to survive amidst the green tide of the invaders. White sweetclover is one of the most pernicious invasive weeds we've got in Alaska, and is choking the margins of rivers and streams in the Matanuska Valley. And now it's moved in to our village. I plan to get out there and deal with the Siberian pea as well as the roadside monsters next summer.

The UAF Invasive Plant Task Force is forming to tackle the problem of invasive weeds in the Fairbanks area. (UAF, incidentally, had introduced purple vetch into the area decades ago when they were doing research on forage--this sort of thing, unintentional sowing of havoc, happens with gardeners and farmers a lot.) Their first planning meeting is Tuesday, Feb. 26, 5:30 to 7 pm room 102 at University Park (my old elementary school!), 1000 University Avenue.

Whitewater Canyon

Day before yesterday, that would be, what, Friday? Dad and April and Hans and I went up to Whitewater Canyon and the Catwalk National Recreation Trail. The canyon is a narrow, high-walled affair through pink volcanic rock; the layers of sedimentary rock between the magma-laid volcanic stone are darker, still a reddish or purplish hue. Apparenty this whole area was very volcanically active millions of years ago. Lots of mauve limestone, shale, sandstone, and whatever this volcanic rock is.

The catwalk is literally that: a catwalk affixed to the canyon walls, over the cold, cold Whitewater Creek below. The spray freezes in places, so some of the creek has ice floating in it, or icicles and frost hanging down from rocks above the water. It's in the Gila National Forest, much farther north than the edge next to Gila. Our camera conked out (low batteries) so we couldn't take pictures of the more spectacular spots. But in the one above you can see the beginning of the catwalk itself. There was a silver mine (copper, too, I think) up in the canyon, and the miners built a pipeline to bring water down to the mill and a catwalk (much smaller than this one, a boardwalk over the pipes) to access it. There was a high-water mark in the canyon about two feet over our heads. The creek was anywhere from ten to twenty feet below us.

We hiked up and back about three or four miles, walking past the formal, maintained trail up to a nice picnic spot. My knees were so tired and stiff by the time we got done that I was a bit unnerved. Old lady knees--I've got to get out and do more walking.

The place is beautiful. But hoarhound, an escapee invasive plant that grows all over Gila and Cliff, is up here, too. There were prickly pears growing right out of the rock, sycamores, juniper, mesquite, scrub oak. It was fully forested. We saw a canyon wren. Lots of little birds, juncos and other things. On the way to the place we saw ravens and buzzards circling some dead thing way up on the hillside. Lots of ravens around here. It got very cold in the shade, hot in the sun.