cabbage murder

I guess you have to live in a certain extreme to develop an allergy in a matter of weeks, but apparently, as I discovered yesterday, penicillin isn't my only one anymore. 

So, for another experiment, I decided I'd been immersed in my new lifestyle for long enough to appreciate the utterly gridlocked culture of the Hamptons from a new perspective. I drove there in a car, which was unusual enough on its own (I haven't been in one since the beginning of August, whereas throughout July and every other month of my life I buckle up almost every single day), but arriving at the no-holds-barred luxury of this immense end of the summer party in Sagaponack was a trip. We parked in a field that was filled with every kind of vehicle imaginable (most of them giant gas guzzlers or fancy sports cars), and walked down a path flanked with tiki torches to a glittering light show inside the party tent, with music blasting from huge elevated speakers and guests floating around drinking cocktails from transparent plastic flutes. The food was classic barbeque, hot dogs, burgers, potato salad and cole slaw, and a salad of cherry tomatoes and mozzarella, and the bars were numerous though not overly extravagant. Plumes of smoke hovered above the crowd as the storm that had seemed so imminent passed benignly overhead, and I was totally seduced by the atmosphere. It took a little while, but eventually the smell of the grill was so enticing that I was consumed with the desire for a burger with mustard and ketchup... It was the first really processed food I'd had since my mom's whole wheat pasta a couple weeks ago, and something in the bun must have triggered it, but I had the weirdest allergic reaction (which I have never had before, by the way), where my lips and eyes swelled up and I broke out in hives on the backs of my elbows and knees... Maybe it was a combination of things... spores of cologne and chemical products and airborne substances just hit me like a brick wall and knocked me down. In the space of about 5 or 6 minutes flat, I went from having a really fun time talking to people I hadn't seen in months on the luminous dance floor to feeling hot and prickly and panicked talking to a paramedic I didn't entirely trust in one of the host's various squeaky white bathrooms.

In any case, the reaction subsided quickly, but I went home anyway and took some benadryl... I don't know if I want to take medicine throughout this month... Definitely not for any small ailment--I got a bee sting yesterday and had no thought of anti-inflammatory drugs--but this was totally unusual and strange and no one in my family felt comfortable enough letting me go to bed without some anti-histamines. Bizarre! I think it must been some kind of combination that overwhelmed my system... Next time around (because I'm getting fairly certain there will be a next time), I want to plant an herb garden or (maybe) some kind of greenhouse to grow some useful or medicinal plants and herbs. Things like aloe for sunburn and citronella for bugs, and then of course the myriads of indigenous flowers and shrubs that were used for a long time before commercial drugs existed that I have yet to explore...

It is a very frustrating process, trying to manage my life in this new way... 

Figuring out what parts of my life actually need to be managed and what parts I am over thinking...

Getting my priorities straight so I have time for everything I want to do once I get what I need to do done.

Considering this lifestyle, realizing what is important to me, the reasons I adopted this lifestyle, and then incorporating the things I've loved in life the way I've lived it until now.

Taking advice to heart, and more importantly asking for it! 

Reaching out to the resources I have, trusting their guidance before my stagnant deliberation.

Acting in the moment to take full advantage of my time and space and abilities... I want to enrich myself while I'm out here, and I'm almost imposing my own sanctions.

I see what I need to do- like I always do- I just don't know where to begin! I have never been great at jumping into things... That's why I'm good at starting projects, I think. I just need to gather some momentum, and not get caught up in the general pace that exists here, and that is encouraged by long, hot summer days. It would really be great if we had more people working on this with us, because when Karen goes to work, I feel responsible for everything, even when others are willing to help, because then I know I'm the only one who really has all my eggs in this basket.  It would have a dramatically different and co-dependent energy and synthesis if everyone who is involved with the project at this point had truly committed themselves at the offset.

In any case... there's no time like the present!

My diet has really been making me feel pretty great, even though my metabolism is strange, and speeds up and slows way down almost day to day. For example, one morning a couple days ago, I had a few glasses of fresh milk for breakfast, and then nothing until eggs for dinner later but a cucumber around midday. Today, on the other hand, I've been eating little bites of quinoa and tomatoes every now and then, I had an egg earlier, and fresh goats milk too... It really does change day to day... But I've had pretty consistently high energy, regardless of how much food I ate on a given day. I always eat when I'm hungry, and I think I'm drinking plenty of water... Food almost comes second to everything else lately. I eat a little here and there, which I am happy doing, but so different from the traditional big summer brunches I'm used to.

I want to go on a nature walk, and get some practice gathering wild edibles! At this point I have some chickory roots to roast, probably tonight, which I can grind into a kind of coffee substitute. We'll have to see about THAT! I am a very picky coffee drinker.

Chicory Morning Lost & Found

The panel is now totally functional (hooray!!), and it has a much more sophisticated wiring situation now that a real electrician has checked it out. The only problem now is that my laptop battery isn’t holding charge, so I have to keep it plugged in whenever I want to use it. I wonder if that uses more battery than if it was holding charge. It really just means I have to leave the whole thing back at the house where there’s wireless internet, otherwise I’d have to lug the panel, battery, computer and everything else back and forth to type up my blog and then post it… (I’m at the tent typing into a Word document right now.)

Anyway!

The past few days have been quite eventful- from the goats RUNNING AWAY on Monday afternoon to cooking eggs on the stove inside the house, we’ve been working through the intense August heat with as much vigor as we can muster.

 

Events:

FLOPSY AND MOPSY ON THE LOOSE

So, we have had a hard time keeping the does on a regular milking schedule, partly because the only person who really knows how to milk them is Karen’s grandmother, so whenever she can come we milk them, and that’s not always the same time of day. To make matters more complicated, Karen works in Southampton a few days a week, and her dad just arrived from Colombia, which is the first time she’s seen him in 2 years. So, on Sunday night Karen spent the night with her family in Hampton Bays, but came back the next day around noon with her grandmother. (Karen is really in charge of the animals, so she told us not to worry about milking them until she got home.) Monday was especially hot and relentlessly sunny, so after milking the goats in the shade of their one little tree, the Sanchez family came down to the pool (or, as I call it, the watering hole), to cool off. We left the goats to graze as we normally do, thinking if they went anywhere it would be following us down the field (as usual). Flora and Little Bit were alone for no longer than about half an hour, but were absolutely NOWHERE to be found when we got back.

Hours we spent combing the property, calling their names, calling the neighbors, calling the police department, animal control, WLNG (a local radio station), everything we could think to do, we tried. We called the goats’ previous owner upstate, and he said we should just try calling out for them and maybe they’d wander back by nightfall. Nightfall came and went, and throughout the night there was not a single bleat or cry from the woods surrounding the tent that might have alerted us. In the morning, we were frantic, but I felt almost incapable to do anything about it because the sun was so strong. I kept in touch with my mom throughout the day (she’s in Maine with my dad for a week), and she kept me from panicking.  We all handle crises in different ways, and mine normally involves lots anxious consideration while my mom runs around taking control of the situation. Karen, on the other hand, gets mellow. Very mellow and quiet and calm. Her whole family does. At one point, after we’d been calling for them for a while, her grandma shrugged and said, “They’re not coming back,” as if it was just a fact of life. If I had heard her say that (and understood the Spanish), and Karen hadn’t told me that once they were safe at home, I think I might’ve given up right then and there. There was (as has been a constant theme throughout this project) everything to do and nothing to do at the same time, and endless, impossible possibilities.

            At around 2 PM, I called my mom again to check in, and she told my neighbor Joanne Comfort who has a farm on Lumber Ln. had found the goats at another neighbor’s house nearby. I screamed for Karen and called Joanne’s cell phone as we headed toward the southern perimeter of our property. When we got there, Joanne told us that Flora had been having a hard time walking, and both the goats looked lean and dehydrated. Little Bit was hesitant but still willing to walk back homeward, but Flora, who was clearly dehydrated, taking shallow breaths and grinding her teeth, stood motionless with her eyes slightly open even on the shady driveway. Joanne said they might’ve been drinking from the chlorinated pool, and I was wondering if pesticides had been sprayed on any garden plants they’d eaten. Flora was so resistant to walking that Joanne had to drive her little green farm buggy over to carry her back across the field. I got in back and Joanne lifted her onto the flatbed, and I stayed there with her, holding her tight as she stepped all over me trying to back herself off the buggy. Karen walked behind with Little Bit until we were about halfway back and we thought Flora could walk the rest of the way. She did start walking, but after only a few minutes in the direct sun, she stopped short and wouldn’t budge an inch. I stood with her for a while, trying to calm her down as Karen took Little Bit closer to the tent to get some water and food she could bring back. (I hindsight, this might not have been a good idea; even though Little Bit was willing to approach the tent without Flora, being separated from her might have stressed them both out even more.) A few long, hot, desperate minutes later we got some water for them, but neither would drink. After waiting a few minutes and trying to get them to hydrate, we finally just splashed them and urged them towards the shade near the tent, and they finally started walking again.

            It took a long time for either of them to start eating or drinking, and Flora didn’t leave the pen (which is filled with sun in the afternoon), until we brought them both to the shady area behind the tent. Karen made a series of calls until she got in touch with a vet who told her that Flora was probably having a digestive issue since she hadn’t been urinating or defecating since she came back, so Karen ran out with Orlando to get milk magnesium to clear her system. They had to force feed it to her with a long necked bottle, which made her cry and scream for the first time since she’s gotten here. It was such a terrible sound, but it had to be done, and she’s feeling much better today, albeit a little skittish. Karen’s grandma milked them last night, but since they hadn’t been drinking much water, there was much less milk, even though they were three milkings behind. The milk we got yesterday I didn’t want to drink last night because I was afraid they might’ve ingested something weird that would be present in the milk. But I’m drinking it now! It tastes ok- we called it “adventure milk.” Some farmers say you can taste a goat’s day in their milk, which makes sense to me, the same way you can taste a summer in wine. (Next year’s vintage, even though half the crop’s been destroyed by the weather this year, should be pretty good.)

 

Last night, once the goats were asleep in their pen, the day darkened strangely quickly, and the wind picked up, rippling the tent walls like sails. There was clearly a storm coming, and I couldn’t start a fire in the pit. Franco was over, and he was going to come help, but I couldn’t tell if or when it was going to rain, so I just gathered some logs, 8 eggs (that Karen had already scrambled), and a little satchel of cherry tomatoes and walked over to the house. I had to add more eggs from the carton in the fridge (local brown) to feed the whole group, which I thought was a good idea anyway because no one is living at the house for another couple weeks. I cooked the whole thing in the stove in the living room, and Franco built a little a-frame stand to support the pan over the fire. Karen and Orlando stayed at the tent, but came over a little later to eat with us.

 

It’s weird to spend time with people who aren’t doing the project, but still participate. Gaby, for example, weaves in and out sometimes, but spends the majority of her time out at the farm with us. I just wish I didn’t have this feeling of uncertainty about what I’m doing out here. If the point of the project, as it was for a while, is to live sustainably without estranging ourselves from friends and family, we are doing it well, because there are almost always people here, sleeping over in the tent, lighting candles with us, eating fire grilled homegrown vegetables. But there is an integral part missing from their experience, even though they get to see the contrast. As much as I love their company, we’re not keeping it the right way, I’m afraid. We won’t reach that point of utter community unless we really LIVE together. (But I’ll probably revise that thought soon enough)

There are a few major realizations I’ve made by working on this project, and some very important elements that have not been present in our life out here, or at least not effective in the sense that they are making life out here better.

1.     Community

A dedicated, hardworking community with shared principles and a common vision is necessary for the integrity of a project like this.

2.     Solitude

As important as friends and family are, to fully appreciate and reflect on our days out here, and to develop a sense of what we are each looking for, time alone for meditation or writing or thought is essential for spiritual health.

3.     Exercise

Before I started the project, I told myself I’d be doing yoga every day. But because of busy schedules and lack of routine, (which I tend to avoid in general) I often miss my chance. Our lifestyle is inveterately active on the farm, weeding, gardening, milking, carrying water, cleaning, biking, etc., but swimming and yoga, for me, are two perfect outlets for stress that really improve my mood and attitude.

4.     Nutrition

Getting all the nutrients we need hasn’t been a problem, but variety has been a little limited, at least compared to the way I eat at Ross throughout the year. Our diet has consisted primarily of eggs, raw goat milk, quinoa, and walnuts. Other than that, we basically have whatever is ripe in the garden. All our staples are high in protein and omega-3’s, so we’re in good shape, but unless we make a big salad, we’re a little low in the greens department, and we’re feeling the absence of sugar. (My mouth is raw from all the tomatoes I’ve been eating, but the cherries are everywhere in the garden and they are so sweet and delicious.)

 

What I need to keep telling myself is that this is shaping up to be a stumble through for what could be a remarkable success next year. The best I can do right now is experiment to see what works and what doesn’t, and just keep better track of my activities for reference.

What makes me feel good?

What makes others feel good?

What reminds me of how beautiful it is to live this way?

What is harmonious?

What can I learn from others?

What can I teach others?

How can I seek balance?

 

Who’s with me?

Sunny Day :)

Today has been really beautiful, and I am very happy with the way it was laid out.

I think we're getting the hang of this.

When we woke up, it was really foggy everywhere, and the tent walls were still up from when we lifted them to let in the breeze yesterday... You could vaguely see my dad's spooky sculptures every now and then lurking in the grounded cloud cover. My friend Harris thought he was dreaming when he woke up.

Karen, Gaby and I milked the goats around 8 AM, which is when we decided we'd do it from now on (and then again 12 hours later at 8 PM). Goats are very routine-oriented, and get stressed about almost everything, so keeping a steady milking schedule is helpful. We're still not getting enough milk from them by ourselves, though... It takes us twice as long to milk the goats as it takes Karen's grandma, but she gets three times as much. By the time the goats are to antsy to hold still anymore, we've only gotten a few cups at MOST, and their udders are still full. We should be getting about a gallon of milk a day, but instead we're only getting several cups. It's making us crazy... We want to build some kind of milk stand that the goats can jump onto like in Karen's goat book.

After that, Gaby and I biked into Sag Harbor to go to a yoga class. This is one thing that I am thinking about critically... We didn't actively use any energy, but the money we paid for the class (albeit a student discount), will probably contribute to the grid in some fashion, which makes it a tricky transaction.

In any case, the trip to Sag Harbor was fruitful... or fishy... We met a friend of my sister's named Arthur who was fishing on the dock. Arthur goes to my school, and I've always known he was the outdoorsy type, and had a knack for (gently) catching bugs with a net when he was younger. He had had a lot of success in the past week, and at home he said he had about 8 Porgies and Snapper in the freezer, but the one fish he caught today he gave to us! It was a pretty big Porgie, bigger than either of the ones we caught when we went fishing earlier this week, and he taught us how to gut and fillet it before he stuck it in his cardboard bait box and we took it home.

The bait Arthur was using was bloodworms, which I have never seen before, and hope I never meet while swimming out in deep water. They're a local, prehistoric looking biting worm, kind of like a leech, but without the numbing chemical leeches produce when they bite your skin. Eeeeee....

When we got home, Karen had already biked to work in Southampton, so we washed the dishes (with hot water this time, I thought they might need a little heat to get rid of any stray chicken poo), and grilled up the Porgie and some eggs and quinoa. The eggs we actually cracked into half a bell pepper and then tossed on the grill. My sister did that at her birthday party, and it's amazingly delicious. We actually wrapped the fish in beet greens before we put it on the grill to prevent it from burning (that didn't work, but corn husks do). And we boiled the rest of the eggs so they keep well in our little fridge.

After that, Franco came over on his way home from the beach and helped us chop wood. Well, he did all the chopping, we just carried it to the porch. I've tried to use the chopper (which weighs a good 20 lbs itself), and it's really really difficult to even pick up. 

We were completely out of wood after Gaby and I built the fire today... We shouldn't let that happen again... If Franco hadn't been able to come over we probably wouldn't have been able to light a fire tomorrow even. None of us can lift that chipper.

UPDATE...

Well,
it's about time I updated this blog, I'm only too sorry I haven't been able to in the past few days.

I first want to note how difficult it has been to articulate my thoughts on paper without getting pulled in lots of different directions, and without suddenly getting so far ahead of myself that I feel exasperated and give up.

The past 6 days have been such an intense emotional and physical experience that I have had trouble being objective in regards to regular tasks, and also had trouble trying to ask myself philosophical questions without getting overwhelmed.

First, I want to point out that my daily schedule has changed a lot, and become much less planned or productive than it was in the days right before we started. I often find myself standing stock still on the porch of the tent, or right behind the screen, staring out at the birds in the field, wanting to do everything, doing nothing, feeling almost paralyzed.
And yet, MUCH has happened in the past week!
I feel like I've been living in my tent FOREVER. It is truly strange.

I have conducted this project in much more of an experimental way than I initially thought I would, or ever thought I would feel comfortable doing. I am pleased with my "decision" (if you can call it that, I didn't make it consciously), because "trying things on" is the best way to know what works. And I can always take things off, which is something I need to remind myself of every time I feel I have broken.

!!The goats arrive...
On Monday, Karen and Orlando drove the 7 hours up to and 7 hours back from Rome, NY, to pick up "Flora" and "Little Bit" from their little farm in the middle of nowhere. Believe it or not, even in such a remote location, the goats were in rather close quarters, and were not accustomed to fresh grass when they arrived in their new home at our farm. (About 50 planes headed towards the East Hampton Airport have been flying low over the farm every day recently, making noise totally alien to the goats. They run for cover every time, often on our porch.) Every day since their arrival, Karen's grandmother and Orlando have driven over in their red minivan twice a day to help us milk them. And WHAT an ordeal that has been. The younger but bigger goat, named ironically "Little Bit," was separated from her kid when she left the farm upstate. Karen said she only ever saw her baby was being weaned off its mother, and only ever saw her when it needed milk, but the first time Little Bit was ever milked by hand was the day Karen picked her up. She brayed all night and thrashed around when we tried to coax her into milking the next morning. The other goat, Flora (who is two years old, Little Bit is one), has been a milking goat for a long time, so is much more used to the process. However, since Little Bit is bigger than Flora, she is the dominant "leader" goat, and therefore must do everything first. Including milking. Since Flora has to wait and watch Little Bit bray and kick as we try to milk her, she gets spooked, and then needs a good deal of coaxing herself. At this point, we need at least 3 people working hard to hold down the goats and milk them. Karen's grandmother grew up on a farm in Colombia, and she's an old hand at milking goats. Her technique, though, is a little harsh. It doesn't hurt the goat, but she uses rope to tie their hind legs while someone else sits ahead of it and holds its horns. It's okay, and she gets the milk, but it's not pleasant and NOT easy. Anyway, we did it without her help this morning, and I milked Flora myself! We're trying to make some cream cheese and yogurt today, but it's raining on and off so starting a fire is tricky.

The issue right now is that my solar panel -> 12V battery -> laptop charging situation is not working. I have been tinkering with the wires and clamps for the past few days, and it doesn't seem that the connections are right or something. At the moment, I am using my mom's iBook G4 to give a brief update, until my techy friend comes over to help us figure out what's going wrong.

Until then, know that everything is going pretty well... A few bumps here and there, and lots of animals, but we're learning. And I am taking pictures, which I will post when I'm not plugged into this wall socket, slurping LIPA minutes like a vacuum.

t-?

This is where, as I kind of expected they would, things got tricky.

We have already moved the project up a few days because adequate preparations were not made in time.

Most important delays: 

1. GOAT?

2. operating the solar panel

3. somewhere to... um... live?

With due credit to my mom for pestering me about getting the tent set up long before I thought necessary... The fact is, today, it is not even complete.

It is VERY close, all we need to do is secure the tent bottom to the platform and tie the rain fly to the frame along the tent walls. But it is hoisted! And it looks beautiful! But it took ALL DAY yesterday, and a considerable amount of energy out of each of us (me, Karen, and Patricia), and also out of Kenny, the carpenter my mom hired to help us figure out the platform. About a week ago, Kenny first came over to help build the girders and joists for the tent platform, and then ended up coming back every day since to make amendments and bring materials we'd overlooked initially, until he became effectively the tentmaster. 

Let me say, there is absolutely NO WAY we would have been able to build our tent by ourselves. 

The whole process was enough to be its own senior project. And the tent company's website says "2 people necessary, 4 makes it easier." We had 8 PEOPLE working hard supporting the poles, tying the tent to the rails, paring down 2"x4"'s, hammering in stakes, etc., and we were STILL afraid the tent was going to collapse on us. 

To make matters worse, we really tried to start the project yesterday, but we were hit pretty hard with the realization that we had very little substantial food available to us. (e.g., we were pretty f-ing hungry.) Especially without the goat (which would provide 1-2 GALLONS OF MILK A DAY, or a lot more than we could use), we realized that we were basically relying on (if we're lucky) 7 or 8 eggs a day, the dried provisions, whatever we can procure from our garden, and good weather to bike in to make produce from local farms available to us, or allow us to go fishing. 

This last is a steep requirement, as the weather has been iffy at best throughout the whole summer. This could make biking difficult, and has already made an impact on the productivity of our garden. 

I'm not saying that the circumstances I've just mentioned are enough to foil the whole project. 

Not at all.

I'm saying that at this point, we really haven't thought out some important aspects of our off-the-grid lifestyle. Yesterday was kind of a test day that really put things into perspective. 

Honestly, for the past week, I've been thinking, if I eat enough now, maybe I'll put on a few pounds and I won't be so hungry when we're off the grid and have very little "food security."

(This was a stupid idea, eating more has just made me hungrier.)

But it was a stupid idea for several reasons.

1.    Why am I isolating this month from the rest of my life like it's a one month intensive that will be dropped on September 1st? Shouldn't I be thinking about it as an integrative experience that I can carry on into "regular" life later on? Shouldn't the people I meet have a sense that they can adopt some of our practices to make a positive change in their lifestyle? Is that not the point of the project in the first place?

2.   What is the benefit of living with next to nothing for the whole month, other than learning to appreciate the value of food and shelter when there is a dearth of it? If there's anything I learned in health class, crash dieting does not work. We were essentially preparing to "crash" into sustainability, which is itself almost a contradiction in terms. If the case made is that one must live without in order to appreciate the value of the essentials, a crash course could be enlightening. But trying to create a microcosm of the shift society must make to reach sustainability will only work if we drop our already eco-conscious mentality and think practically. People will respond to community engagement, and the importance of global connectivity is non-negotiable to most people today. Indeed, addressing our serious environmental problems depends on international cooperation. This is why I'm keeping a BLOG! Believe me, I would be JUST as happy to retreat into the woods and forget the world for a month. There would be no greater freedom. (Plus, we wouldn't have had to deal with the damned solar panel and 12v battery and the mean guy at Radio Shack.) But what difference would that make? People become hermits every day! And you know what? No one ever hears from them again!

 

3. Naturally, things tend to evolve towards efficiency. Consider the race for an affordable car that exceeds 100 MPG. 10 million bucks and the Automotive X-Prize, anyone? Or imagine you are going on a monthlong mountain climbing trip or backpacking through Europe. Imagine also that you have taken great pains to make sure you are completely well-equipped for your venture, almost excessively so; you've got every state-of-the-art piece of equipment and gear to take you up the mountain, or an outfit for every destination on your list. Chances are, after a month or so, you will start to shed things you thought, at the outset, would be crucial. This is the same sort of way for a family who is trying to green their lifestyle. Considerations like "Maybe we don't need this TV," or "Maybe we could bike to work in the morning," come into play to affect a simpler, more efficient way of living. 

As my mom said yesterday, it's better to start with more than you need, so you can reach sustainability through elimination than to start out with nothing, and worry constantly about survival. In the latter case, the only way to go is to make concession after concession until you have found a system that sustains you. Where's the joy in that!? In terms of morale, at least, every concession will impart failure, will make the entire idea of harmonious, environmentally sound, "sustainable" living seem like a pipe dream.

SO! 

What do we need but a day or two to get ourselves together! 

Now that the tent is done (or almost, I'm about to run out with Kenny to finish it up), we will have a home base, which we can furnish, and finally feel a sense of security that has been completely absent until now.

(So that's pretty much where we're at...

Next post will contain more thorough and episodic descriptions, 

video of us erecting the tent, 

some more pictures of us in the field, 

plus a diagram of our solar panel/battery arrangement.)