Green Hell

The Further Adventures of Young Doctor Kildare

    Like women, we Celts are more renowned for physical attractiveness and high-spiritedness than for abstract intelligence. As the photo below illustrates, I became a wee bit overenthusiastic whilst hand-conditioning. Things went smoothly until I began working the backfist (uraken), at which point the demon of overzealousness reared its ugly head. 

     Part of the problems was Yours Truly (hitting too damned hard), and part was the equipment: the bag is just too damned old. The contents have settled, and it's time to refill it. Essentially, I wound up hitting a cinderblock covered by a mere two layers of canvas with the knuckles, while the back of the hand smacked the bunched-up contents of the bag. 



     I didn't notice anything amiss until two hours later. I'd gone upstairs, slapped a disc of Schubert into the ghetto blaster, and was  reading a book on Graeco-Roman art shortly after my workout. Predictably, I fell asleep. When I awoke, I noticed a fairly nasty bruise forming on the back of my hand. 

     Here comes the surprise. The bruise you see is less than 24 hours old. Note that it's in a rather advanced state of healing. This is because of a true marvel of modern medical science: raw ginger root. I cut two thick slices from a fresh, juicy root, lightly crushed them, and gently massaged the juice into the boo-boo. 

    The ginger works miracles by itself, but is even more effective when used in combination with dit da jow (for which I'll post a recipe in due time). Assuming that you don't have a traditional Chinese pharmacy in your neck of the woods, you can enhance the effectiveniss of the remedy by putting the root in a mortar, along with a little fresh turmeric root (available at all Oriental groceries and most farmers' markets) and black pepper, grinding them, and making a poultice of the resultant paste. The combination of ginger and turmeric is even more effective than ginger alone, but I wouldn't recommend it to battered wives: the turmeric, while healing the bruise, leaves vivid, yellow stains on the skin. 

Although this should go without saying, do not apply and of the aforementioned preparations diectly to broken skin -- unless you mean to practice your kiai as well. 

Further Ups and Downs of Raising Poultry

We've encountered yet another of the pitfalls endemic to raising poultry in vermin-infested Roswell, Georgia.

After the fox attack in late winter (we lost five of our Rhode Islands reds to one of the bastards. Contrary to tree-hugger mythology, foxes do not kill only what they can eat. In reality, they kill everything in sight, eat whichever parts suit them, and leave the rest of the dead and dying birds to rot), we took additional measures to secure the coop. So far, so good. Since then, the fox hasn't been a problem. With only one Rhode Island Red left,though, we had to rebuild our flock. We obtained another from my cousin, while a kind-hearted neighbor gave us yet another Red, and a Plymouth Rock. This left us with two vacancies to fill.

Although I didn't like the idea, we ended up getting two Leghorns, both from the same brood, and neither full grown. I opposed the idea because I didn't want to introduce yet another unfamiliar breed to the flock. The Plymouth Rock has finally become accustomed to her neighbors, but the process took time. (And I suppose the fact that she's now the size of a small turkey - which is to say that she's the largest bird in the flock - didn't hurt, insofar as carving  herself a niche was concerned.)

Unlike the aggressive Rhode Island Red or the adaptable Plymouth Rock, the Leghorn, I've since discovered,  is a comparatively fragile breed, and prone to skittishness. When we introduced the newcomers to the flock in April, the bigger, older birds set upon them unmercifully. This necessitated removing them from harm's way immediately, and building a temporary coop on the spot. Once we'd settled the babies in their new home, all went well until two weeks ago.



On the fourth, I received a phone call from my wife. Terribly upset, she insisted that I come home immediately. Something , she told me, had happened to one of the chickens.

It certainly had.

Upon arriving home, I discovered that one of the babies had suffered a terrible injury to her left leg. I also discovered an unpleasant fact about "chicken-kind":  they attack their own wounded. We rushed her to the garage, constructed alternative quarters, and tried our best to nurse her back to health. A friend of ours provided us with the necessary medications, but cautioned us that she had only a 50-50 chance of surviving.

While the wounded bird convalesced, I took a closer look at the injury, and examined the coop more closely.

All the work put into fox-proofing and coyote-proofing the henhouses -- only to have a rat, of all things, attack one of the birds.

To make a long story short: the chick improved steadily over the last two weeks. Her appetite returned, she took water again, was attempting to move herself around, and seemed to enjoy being taken outside (under heavy guard, of course) to peck for bugs.

Then, without warning, she died this afternoon.

So anyway, if by chance, you raise poultry in Roswell; it isn't enough to protect your birds from cats, dogs, foxes, coyotes, and hawks. You must also safeguard the younger ones against large, aggressive rats.  

G'night and God bless. 

Finishing Up

     Project nearly completed.



The coop, Phase IV. Wire and carrying handles attached. I cut the handles with a sabre saw, then cleaned them up with a rasp and file. This one of the plan's few shortcomings, incidentally: No template for the handles. Maggie roughed one out on newspaper, and we refined it with an old-fashioned compass and straight-edge.  

Phase V: The removable roost-cover, in place. This part was challenging, as the lumber we bought was slightly warped. The top plank slides into place beneath the edge of the weather cap, while a furring strip (not visible here) fastened to the lowest plank rests against the frame of the coop. When the handles are released, gravity attends to the rest. It's an ingenious design -- but it requires perfectly straight planks in order to work properly. 


The penultimate stage of construction. The only things left do do are grind down the protruding screw-ends (the 3" wood screws called for in the instructions are a little too long. I believe we could have gotten by with 2 3/4", but what's done is done), install the roost ramp and pulley, and paint it. 

 

Coming Home to Roost -- Very Soon

We're two days into building our chicken coop. It's a simple affair, but it's all we really need for the six birds the City of Roswell magnanimously allows us to keep. Overstep the limit by even a single fowl, and there's a good chance of ending up like the late Andrew Wordes. 

I add that spiteful remark because I was there, perhaps 100 feet away when Andy burned the house down with himself inside. None of the councilmembers who (quite literally) hounded him to his grave via an endless series of lawsuits and harrassment had the guts to view their dirty work. 

Anyway, our coop a two-level, 8' x 4' A-frame with a removable roof and several add-on security features intended to keep the birds safe from predators. We based the design on Cawtaba Converticoops' Urbane Coops for Urban Chickens by David P. Bissette. The project should be complete within another day or two, at which poin't we'll pick up the chickens we bought from my cousin.

Total cost in materials was roughly $100.00, but we probably could have shaved a bit off the figure by scavenging. 

The Weather: Someone Else Notices at Last

At long last, a mainstream source notices that the weather's a tad abnormal. According to the Guardian:

Meanwhile, north America's most deadly and destructive tornado season ever saw 600 "twisters" in April alone, and 138 people killed in Joplin, Missouri, by a mile-wide whirlwind. Arizonans were this week fighting some of the largest wildfires they have known, and the greatest flood in recorded US history is occurring along sections of the Missouri river. This is all taking place during a deepening drought in Texas and other southern states – the eighth year of "exceptional" drought there in the past 12 years.

Predictably, the article implies that "global warming" is to blame. What it doesn't mention, though (and the omission, too, is predictable: most Westerners, whether European or American know nothing about agriculture) is that weather is altering itself selectively. This is to say that it appears to targeting the world's "bread baskets": last year's heatwave in Russia, this year's drought in Russia and Central Europe, the current flooding in the Midwest, and the drought and heatwaves in the Southeast and Southwest.

Here in Georgia, for example, an unseasonable warm spell in February caused many plants to blossom prematurely. Subsequent frosts then killed the flowers. March and April were unusually cold and wet. When this happens, planting is delayed, as the soil is too wet to work, and the chance of the seed simply rotting in the ground increases. From May onward, the drought/heatwave began. For most of the last several weeks, Temperatures have been in the '90s, which is ten degrees higher than normal for this time of year.

For most vegetables, optimum germination occures between 68 and 80 degrees Fahrenheit. When the temperature rises above 90, the germination rate for beans and corn (I've chosen them as examples because both are staples) drops to 39% and 88% respectively. Plants native to the tropics and subtropics (melons, tomatoes, pepper, eggplant, summer squash, etc.) fare better, but have little caloric value. Does anyone else see the problem?

Now I'm sure the timing is sheer coincidence, but it appears that the weather is behaving intelligently, almost strategically -- if decreased food production is the desired end. So is it really coincidence, or is it possible that these guys and others of their ilk are running a little ahead of schedule?

Just curious...

Safe Seeds?

If you're committed to keeping Monsanto's genetically modified "Brave New Veggies" out of your garden, here a few links to articles and discussion boards on the subject.

A few comments of my own before I post the list:

1.) Thumbs up to Pinetree. I've been dealing with them for years, and their seed is excellent -- especially the heirloom varieties. In the main, the packets are small -- but the plants never produce "Frankenfruit." This is to say that as long as closely related cultivars are planted well apart, they breed true and produce viable seed. Naturally, the F1's revert to scrub after a season, but Pinetree clearly marks its hybrid offerings.

2.) Territorial and Seeds of Change are also top-notch, but rather pricey.

3.) Botanical Interests's products are the perfect compromise between affordability and viability: "clean" seed at very reasonable prices.

4.) Burgess's "Native American" collection produces viable seed year after year. Although I can't speak for the other seed selections, I'll mention that their live plants are quite fertile -- especially their blackberries and elderberries, which are now taking over my yard. 

5.) Whatever you do, stay the hell away from Burpee.

6.) I've stopped doing business with Burpee and Twilley's. If you must buy from either, purchase only the former's "Fordhook" or "Waltham" cultivars -- and pray that you're getting the real thing. 

Links:

Mothering.com

Garden of Eatin'

Duluth Community Garden Program

Leaflady.org

Mrs. Survival

 

 

 

Granddaddy's Knife

I've been promising to post these since 2006, and I've finally gotten off my dead ass long enough to make good on the threat.

Like most of the men in my family, my grandfather Bean was multi-talented. Although economic hardship necessitated his leaving school at age 13 (the roar of the "Roaring Twenties" was completely inaudible in East Tennessee -- perhaps the terrain was to blame...), he never lost his passion for learning. A natural autodidact, he amassed an extensive collection of books (roughly half of which are now in my library) and never missed an opportunity to learn -- or teach himself -- a new skill.

If the 'twenties failed to "roar" in Southern Appalachia, the 'thirties compensated for the oversight by taking a king-sized, corn-and-peanut-studded shit on the region. Economically speaking, we slid straight from the Reconstruction (despite the prevalance of pro-Union sentiment in West Virginia, East Tennessee and Eastern Kentucky, we all got "reconstructed" whether we needed it or not...) into the Depression, without much of a transitionary phase. In other words, the region went from "dirt-poor" to too poor to afford dirt...

Like many of his generation, Granddaddy sought a better life elsewhere when the situation at home became untenable. Whether or not the decision pained him, I can't say. The Beans began squatting illegally in East Tennessee during the 1750's, and I'd imagine they eventually became attached to the place. Stealing it from the Cherokees must have been quite a chore, after all -- and like most Scots, Ulstermen, and Borderers; they didn't outsource their dirty work. Unfortunately, I'll never know how Graddaddy felt about leaving Tennessee. When he died, I was far too young even for it to occur to me to ask him.

Many East Tennesseans, my grandparents among them, migrated to (although some might say "colonized") Southern Maryland. Perhaps it was the area's proximity to Washington, D.C., and the resultuant economic opportunities. Or perhaps it had do with the fact that even Hillbillies need someone to make fun of -- and SMIBs fit the bill perfectly.

At any rate, Granddaddy, packed up and relocated to PGC (which, in the '30s and '40s, didn't stand for "playas, gangstas and crackhouses.") If memory serves me correctly, he spent a few years working for the railroad, and eventually became a machinist.

In 1941, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who had been provoking the Germans and (especially) the Japanese for years, saw a golden opportunity to kill several birds -- and a couple thousand sailors -- with one stone. Although he'd been warned of an imminent attack on Pearl Harbor, Roosevelt sat on the information and let the "surprise" attack proceed. This was bad for the poor bastards who ended up at the bottom of the harbor -- but it was good for FDR, good for the economy, and good for my grandfather: "The Penguin" got his war, the navy got a brand new fleet, the economy got a boost, and Granddaddy got a better job machining parts for ships.

Apparently, he was good at what he did. In 1943 or '44 a German U-Boat was destroyed in Chesapeake Bay. (I have no idea how, so don't ask. It could have been anything from a depth charge to a floating mine, but granddaddy never said. I doubt that he knew, himself.) Unsurprisingly, the event was swept under the rug and the story spiked. (It was one thing to have the great unwashed living in mortal terror  of a logistically impossible German invasion. But it was another entirely to let them know that the boshies actually got close enough to send "the Penguin" to the big polio ward in the sky.)

Uncle Sammy lost no time in salvaging the wreckage, packing it up and sending it off to be studied and back-engineered. As fate would have it, Granddaddy was part of the team assigned to the task. When the project was finished, Graddaddy reasoned that the Germans -- bein' dead an' all -- had no further use for the craft, and that Uncle Sambo probably wouldn't miss a few pieces of the original, as he had a brand new one to play with.

He managed to  -- uhmm, shall we say "permanently borrow"? -- a few scraps, from which he made the knife in the following photos. The blade (full tang, tapped and threaded at the end) is made from a piece of the hull. The layers of the hilt consist of glass from the instrument panels, leather from one source or another   -- Upholstery? A dead kraut's S&M gear? (Those Nazis were notoriously kinky bastards, after all...) Or something else? -- and what appears to be bakelite. The pommel is apparently the knob from a rheostat or switch, and the photos are below.

This is an especially interesting shot. Grandaddy obviously subjected the knife to hard use, and I'll probably find myself buffing the scratches away until doomsday. Here's the neat part: as the rust came away, I noticed what appear to be hammer marks on the blade.

Putting the Grain Mill to Use

A few days ago, I posted a short piece on grain mills, and why buying one is a good idea, especially in today's economic climate.  Having made the case for owning one, I'll now discuss putting it to good use.

Maggie and I were fortunate enough to have received a Country Living grain mill as a wedding gift, back in '08. I suppose I did enough bragging in the last post, but I honestly can't say enough about the device. Unlike the coffee mill I'd previously used to pulverize grains, the CLGM's hopper holds three or four cups of unprocessed grain or legumes.  This enables one to grind much larger quantities without putting undue stress on the grinder.  Working alone, my wife was able to grind five pounds of meal in an hour. Dividing the labor between us, we can produce the same amount in half the time. And this is grinding by hand, mind you.  Admittedly, it's a bit of work, and can really wear one out until one becomes accustomed to it. We're now looking for a second-hand exercise bike, which we intend to attach to the flywheel with a V-belt. That should spare us considerable time and effort.

As we keep substantial quantities of dried beans, rice, barley, etc on hand, the grinder is a Godsend.  Out-of-date beans are often too tough and starchy to cook by boiling. One can simmer them four hours, and the centers will still be tough. With a grinder, though, one can simply make pea-flour and get a little extra "mileage" out of them.

The photo in the last article is a shot of Maggie grinding a batch.  (Technically, I suppose it's bean flour, as we used several kinds of legumes: split peas, pintos, limas, great northern beans, etc). First, we coarsely ground the beans. Then we dialed the machine to its finest setting, and re-ground the coarse meal. When it was finished, it had the consistency of commercial flour. We then divided the finished product into 1- and 2-cup portions, packed it in Ziploc bags (see photo), labeled and dated it, and that was that.

Today's batch consisted of corn ("Ornamental Indian," which I purchased from Burgess Seed and Plant Co. a few years ago, and have since bred selectively for drought tolerance). As dried corn is fairly tough, we employed the procedure detailed above: coarse grind first (see photo), then another pass with the machine dialed to its finest setting. This time, the finished product was actually finer than store-bought cornmeal.  (A tip for winnowing corn: place a hairdryer in a bench vise and turn it up full blast. Set one basket or bowl in front of the muzzle, and fill another with corn. Stand to the side, and pour the corn from vessel to vessel. The stream of air will quickly separate the grain from the chaff, dried silks, etc.)

The advantages of homemade flour (especially flour ground from homegrown grains and legumes) are 1.) You know exactly what's going into it. No preservatives or other additives unless you add them; 2.) You're using whole grains. Nothing goes to waste, and you benefit from the fiber, etc.

"OK, Bean," says you, "I was so excited; I ran out, bought me a grain mill, and have been grinding anything and everything that looks even remotely edible. Now what am I supposed to do with this shit?"

"Be patient," says I. "We're getting to that now."

As my wife is a Latina (yep, I'm one o' them gol-durned "race traitors" -- see my upcoming essay, "White Women: Greedy, Materialistic, Fickle, Shallow, Superficial, Petty, Ball-Busting, Self-Serving Harpies Who Want to Have Their Cake and Eat It, Too; and Why You'd Have to Be Out of Your Soddin' Mind to Marry One"), we eat quite a bit of Mexican food. As the Norns would have it, cornmeal figures prominently in Mexican cuisine.  The commercial masa (which runs four bucks a bag or so) is simply ground hominy, and very easily made.

 Just boil up a pot of hominy (although the lye, lime, wood ash and baking soda methods all work, the latter two are safer-- especially if you're accident prone), dry it, grind it, and presto! You've got masa harina.  While masa made from hominy is of higher quality and more digestible, ordinary cornmeal works nearly as well. Corn tortillas are cheap, nourishing, and idiot-simple to make; so there's no excuse for not learning how.

 Mix 2 cups of cornmeal with a little over a cup of water until you have a smooth, stiff dough. Break off a 1-1/2" to 2" chunk and roll it into a ball. Flatten the ball slightly, and squash with a tortilla press (see photo). If you don't own a tortilla press, use a rolling pin. Heat a dry skillet to medium-high, and toast the tortilla, 30 seconds per side.

The meal can also be used to make cornbread, corn muffins, mush (which is delightful when allowed to cool, then sliced and fried in bacon renderings), corn pancakes, etc.

Pea and bean flours, while alien to most Americans, are widely used in the Mideast (think falafel...) and on the Indian subcontinent.  While garbanzos and lentils are the preferred legumes, other pulses work just as well. A couple of nights ago, we had chicken curry and spiced cauliflower for dinner. We needed a starch, so we settled on basni roti --an Indian flatbread made of chickpea flour. As our experiment showed, though, other ground pulses work just as well. Unlike pappadums, which are also made with garbanzo and/or lentil flour, basni roti don't require drying before cooking them. Like tortillas, they're dry-fried as soon as they're rolled out. This is a plus, as legume-based flours, being very hygroscopic, take forever to dry.

The basic recipe calls for 1 1/2 cups pea flour, 1 1/2 teaspoons each of salt and black pepper, a tablespoon of minced cilantro, enough yogurt (NOT fat free!) to make a stiff dough, and a few tablespoons of melted butter, ghee or oil.  (You can, of course, add other herbs and spices to taste.)

Mix the flour, yogurt, salt and pepper until you have a stiff dough. Wet pea flour is very sticky, so add the yogurt a little at a time, until you've achieved the proper consistency. Mix in the cilantro and let sit, covered, for 30 minutes to an hour.  Break off a 1 1/2" to 2" piece, and roll flat. Brush with melted butter or oil, roll up lengthwise, and repeat the process. The finished flat should be roughly 1/8" to 1/4" thick. Continue until dough is gone (this recipe makes a dozen.) Heat an ungreased skillet or griddle to medium-high (6 on a gas stove) and toast flats until dry. (You'll notice that s they cook, just enough of the butter melts out to keep them from sticking).  Although you mustn't allow the flats to blacken (this spoils the flavor and occasionally causes the black pepper in the dough to become bitter), there should be a few deep brown patches on both surfaces. Serve warm.

I use them as I would chapattis or naan: to mop up the last of the sauce when we have curries. They're also very tasty when dipped in raeta  -- lightly salted yogurt mixed with herbs (cilantro, mint, etc.) and chopped nuts or vegetables (cucumbers, tomatoes, green chiles, shallots, garlic, or what-have-you).

Next on this thread: Hardttack, herb crackers, and sesame twigs.

Coming soon: Fun With Meat Grinders

Necessities: Grain Mill

With the economy suffering the equivalent of a grand mal seizure, and food prices rising like a priest's Johnson at a Boy Scout jamboreee; home gardening may very well become a practical necessity -- rather than the exclusive preserve of hippies, hayseeds and little old ladies with twenty-seven cats.

Most green and yellow vegetables, however, offer little or no return on one's caloric investment. (This is to say that it's entirely possible to die of starvation amidst metric tons of celery, cucumbers and tomatoes.) For this reason, human beings have cultivated grains and legumes (both of which -- in addition to being less perishable, and therefore storable-- furnish carbohydrates and proteins in different measures) for millennia.

Although derided in the past for its lack of const-effectiveness, home grain and legume production has become increasingly practical. Although this article doesn't condern gardening per se, I'll mention that under intensive cultivation and care, a 2,000-square-foot plot can yield a bushel of unprocessed grain. Although not ideally suited to the purpose (and yes, I'm wandering somewhat afield) even sweet corn can be dried and ground. Assuming that one lives in zones 7-10 and chooses a 60-day cultivar -- "Early Sunglow," for example -- three or even four harvests a year are possible. More about this in a future piece.

The main problem with unprocessed grain is the fact that for all its caloric value, it's downright unappetizing. Even after hulling and winnowing, most grains are still as appealing as the prospect of French-kissing a malodorous bag lady with "meth-mouth" and cold sores. Granted, one can make kashi and similar dishes with them. (I'm a sucker for boiled or steamed barley m'ownself -- just don't tell anyone, OK? :-).

One can even make gruels and congees from whole grains -- but when did your kids last come running to dinner, shouting: "Yay! We're havin' gruel tonight! 'Cept for fried chicken, that's my mostest favoritiest food in the whole, wide world!" ?

That's right: never. Don't even try to bullshit me, dude.

This is why a grain mill is a necessity for home gardeners and microfarmers. Although slower and less powerful than industrial mills, a manual grinder with steel plates is far more effective and efficient than the mano/metate and similar stone-age devices.

I've been processing my own grain (Indian corn, which, contrary to popular misconception is edible -- and very tasty -- when ground) since '05, but I employed a coffee/spice mill at the time. That's fine for a bachelor who needs a cup or so at a time (How many pancakes was I gonna eat at one sitting, anyway?), but I now have a spouse; while my social sphere is no longer restricted to bars, pistol ranges and gun shows.

In other words (and I realize that the assertion is damn-near-unbelievable): I actually entertain at times. This (in Ivy League parlance) often calls for more vittles.

Admittely, I'd meant to purchase a grinder since '06; but like painting the f****** shutters or changing my socks, my noble intentions quickly became cobblestones in the Highway to Hell. As luck would have it, though, Bro Wayne gave me one as a wedding gift in '08.

As the three or four of you who still read this blog know: I don't run ads, and I only shill products I actually use.

This is one of 'em. To small-scale growers, the Country Living Grain Mill is nothing short of a Godsend.

Assembly, disassembly and use are idiot-simple. Hell, F****** this ingenious device up would require nothing short of the the concerted, fanatically commited efforts of Bush, Obama, 5/6 of the Roswell City Coucil (although I dislike Betty Price for her boorish, hoity-toity demeanor during the '10 GOP gubernatortial primary; I respect her intellect and her consistent, principled defense of individual liberty. Ergo, she's off the hook -- for now...), a kilo of coke, a Heidelberger Tun of Mad Dog 20/20, and at least one stick of dynamite.

The CLGM is sufficiently tought to withstand even these dire threats -- and perhaps even worse. Composed of cast iron and machined steel, it's on par with Corona's '70s and '80s offerings -- and leaves the cheap, aluminum shite in its dust. Better yet, it's one of the few American made products still on the market. This means no lead in the enamel, no melamine in the sample packet of flour (each CLGM is factory-tested, and shipped pre-set, with a teaspoon or so of finished product enclosed to demonstrate its efficacy), and no running a Geiger-counter over it before putting it to use.

And the settings! Would anyone in his right mind ever have thought a "primitive" mill capable of rendering whole kernels into grits, cake flour -- and everything in between?

I doubt it -- and yet the CLGM can! Mags and I began with mixed legumes (whole limas/butter beans at the lower end of the scale, split peas in the higher registers), and ended up with meal the consistency of bread flour.

I'd say there's some basni roti in our immediate future... :-)

Moreover, the flywheel is v-belt compatible. This is to say that a suffciently clever bastard can increase the mill's output by powering it with a bicycle, a windmill, a water-wheel, a Briggs & Stratton lawnmower engine, or Richard H. Buxton's producer gas rig.

Use your imagination -- and buy one if you can afford it. You won't regret it.

And since physical labor is beneath my dignity for the most part, I'll post a couple o' shots o' Margarita (who, by then, was growling: "Chinga los 'San Patricios'!") putting the device to good use.

More Words to Ponder (Especially With Regard to S. 510)

"When you are again exhorting a suffering people to fortitude under their privations, when you are telling them, 'These are the chastenings of an all-wise and merciful Providence, sent for some inscrutable but just and beneficial purpose -- it may be, to humble our pride, or to punish our unfaithfulness, or to impress us with the sense of our own nothingness and dependence on His mercy,' when you are thus addressing your suffering fellow subjects, and encouraging them to bear without repining the dispensations of Providence, may God grant that by your decision of this night you may have laid in store for yourselves the consolation of reflecting that such calamities are, in truth, the dispensations of Providence -- that they have not been caused, that they have not been aggravated by laws of man restricting, in the hour of scarcity, the supply of food!"

Sir Robert Peel, "Second Reading of the Bill for the Repeal of the Corn Laws," 1846 (emphasis mine)

Starvation Diet

First we were all Keynesians; now it looks as if we'll all become Breathairians.

Bear with me, Gentle Reader. I'm a crank, a doomsayer, a naysayer, a pessimist, alarmist, conspiracy kook, gun-toting wingnut and all-around pain in the ass. There, I've admitted it. Hell, I'd be writing this in my geodesic dome whilst wearing a tinfoil hat -- but recent rumors maintain that geodesic domes cause erectile dysfunction, and that the nation's tinfoil supply has been contaminated with depleted uranium.  Be that as it may, though, I'm still a tad worried over the ever-increasing price of food. Even if you don't believe that Art Bell killed JFK (who was actually the Lindbergh baby), you can't deny that food prices are increasing past the normal rate of inflation.

Beyond the government trying to ram S. 510 down our throats (a potential nightmare for small farmers, survivalists and other "back to the land" types; and one guaranteed to jack food prices through the roof) domestic production isn't keeping pace with population growth. (See the USDA link below, and ponder the law of supply and demand). As I mentioned in an earlier post on beans and grains, the prices of both (in supermarkets, at any rate) have risen dramatically in the last three years. Granted, our friends the banksters are partially to blame, for tampering with the market, but nasty weather and increasingly adverse growing conditions are also contributing factors.

This year, for example, my wife and I have wrangled with late spring rains, a severe drought, unusually high UV levels, heat indexes in the high '90s and low 100's, Roundup-resistant weeds; and an influx of stink bugs, Mexican bean beetles, and corn earworms -- all immune or strongly resistant to pyrethrin, Malathion and Sevin. And we're not the only ones. As I noted a few days ago, 98 Georgia counties have been declared disaster areas. Zooming out and considering the bigger picture, though; one notes that it's been a bad year worldwide. Rice failures in Asia, wheat failures in Europe, and sharply reduced acreage under cultivation in this country all portend ill. I hope I'm wrong, Gentle Reader, but we might very well be in for a singularly lean (and expensive) winter.

The Guardian has run a sobering article on the impact of Russia's droughts and wildfires on wheat prices in Europe.

The spectre of food inflation is back. Two years ago the world was gripped by the prospect of supplies running low, thanks to a combination of rocketing demand from emerging countries and tightening supply as farmers turned wheat fields over to biofuels.

I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so...

Wheat prices, which are up 40% over the last month, reached a two-year high as concerns about a drought in Russia and rotting stocks of grain in India exercised markets in London and Chicago. Claims that a major crop failure in Australia, following an invasion of locusts and a wet summer in Canada, could lead to a worldwide shortage, have pushed up prices in recent weeks to levels not seen since 2008.

The rise in futures contract prices traded on the major markets also follows a United Nations report in June that warned food prices could rise as much as 40% over the coming decade, amid growing demand from emerging markets and for biofuel production.

But before you say: "Ah, it's just Europe. Who the fuck cares?"; consider the ripple effect, magnified by global economic codependency. These gents, certainly have. With a vested interest in the matter, they're hardly an objective source of information -- but the site makes for interesting reading.

And wheat isn't the only grain in short supply, as recent failures of the rice crop in Thailand, India, and Indonesia demonstrate. Moving closer to home, it's worth noting that the total acreage under cultivation has plummeted since the 1980s, while the population has ballooned to 300,000,000. If you're interested in overall domestic food production, (tonnage, price per bushel, acres cultivated, etc.) have a look here. The stats on staple crops (i.e. grains) are especially noteworthy -- and alarming. Beyond serving as food for most of the world's population, many of these grains are used for stock fodder and as sources of those ridiculous, wasteful "biofuels."

Forget mimicking the Eskimos by adopting a "no-carb" diet, though. Protein sources are becoming equally expensive, as illustrated by the following articles on pork, beef, and lamb. These disingenuous fucks attribute the increase to "an improving economy," (if hyperinflation is indicative of a healthy economy; I suppose Weimar Germany is the model to emulate. Luckily, even the most deranged of modern, revisionist economists and historians have yet to assert as much -- although I suppose it's just a matter of time)  but at least they confirm the trend, which stands to reason. Higher feed prices (most feeds being grains) inevitably lead to higher meat prices.  As soy prices are also on the rise, our Buddhist and vegan friends won't fare much better.

The bottom line: We might have one hell of a rough time ahead of us, folks. Unless you're feeling an overwhelming urge to gamble on the validity of the doctrine of Inedia, you might want to consider stocking up this year and producing more of your own food in the future.

Gardeners: You Need to Look at This

If this doesn't frighten you; you're either stoned or mentally retarded.

Read the full text, and then consider the potential impact on small farmers, home growers, and barterers. And for fuck's sake, pass the link on to anyone else it might adversely affect.

Billions of dollars worth of coke, heroin, weed, and meth pouring in over the border; Mexico, our next-door neighbor, is in a civil war; we're mired down in two un-winnable wars (and barreling into a third) and yet these power-crazed, demoniac scum mean to interfere with our ability -- no, our very right -- to feed ourselves.