MAKING BEER

Well, basically the better equipment you have, the better beer you will make.

A couple important things for the first step.

1) Add hops 3 times... once to add bitterness, a second time for flavor, a third time for aroma (after the first step is done boiling -- otherwise you boil off the flav).

2) Barley is a good wheat to use. However, a lot of american ales will also use a lot of rice.

3) It is good to use a mixture of grains and a concentrated syrup otherwise you'd need a 10+ gallon pot just for the grain used itself.

4) May seem obvious, but... STERILIZE EVERYTHING BEFORE USE!

The beer they make here is delicious. They use a method where the beer gets carbonated in the bottle itself. Basically, after we let these batches ferment a bit, you put them in bottles, but add a bit more sugar to reactivate the yeast, but close it tight this time (the main batch closed with a one way valve). That way the CO2 cannot escape from the bottle, hence the bubbles.

Man oh man, I hope all you guys are ready for some New York City brews. You wind up spending a bit up front, but the $$$ saved in the long run will make it worth it.

PEACE.

disclaimer: entry written under the influence of margaritas

Cow Pastures, Corn Fields, Cave Passages, and Drinking Water

DISCOVER THE CONNECTION!

At least that's what the brochure says I will be doing. Tomorrow I will be headed to a seminar put on be the Western Kentucky University Hoffman Environmental Research Institute and the USDA-Agricultural Research Service. It's at a place called Crumps Cave.

There will be a variety of speakers, live demonstrations, and a cave tour. In the cave I will see how to test ground water for quality and learn how it directly effects surface conditions for agricultural purposes.


I believe I will hit up most of the sessions below. There is an afternoon one on pesticides which we are going to skip, seeing as we are an organic operation.

9:10-9:30 Living with Karst
Dr. Chris Groves, Western Kentucky University

9:30-9:50 On-going Research at Crumps Cave
Dr. Carl Bolster, USDA-Agricultural Research Service
and Rick Fowler, Western Kentucky University

9:50-10:10 Effects of Management Practices on Soil Quality and Profitability
Dr. Darwin Newton, Western Kentucky University

10:10-10:20 Break, Poster Display

10:20-10:40 Animal Waste Land Application Best Management Practices
Tim Bartee, Natural Resources Conservation Service

10:40-11:00 Green River Conservation Reserve Enhancement Program
Jay Nelson, Kentucky Division of Conservation

11:00-11:20 Best Management Practices in Pest Control
Chris Ragan, Kentucky Department of Agriculture

11:20-12:30 Dye Injection and Cave Tour
Dr. Rick Toomey, Mammoth Cave National Park,
Stacy Antle, USDA-Agricultural Research Service
Ben Miller, Western Kentucky University

I'm Caught Up!

3/24 time NOW

I have finally caught up with myself... an amazing feat considering I still waiting on my computer.

I will try not to have so great a 'notebook lag' in the future.

Also, so much for Sunday posts. I found time for a bunch today during lunch. Although that is mainly because the rain and the wind going trough Kentucky today keeps us from doing a lot of the work we had planned for today.

I did some greenhouse work this morning, potted up 95 blueberry plants (they like shallow roots and slightly acidic soil -- just add sulfur). We are about to get back out there to do some tilling and perhaps pulling up some Onions and Carrots from #3 high tunnel.

Yesterday and Monday were full days though.... more on that later.

PEACE

Bee Theory

I've been interested in the disappearing bees for awhile. One of The Farmers told me the most plausible theory I have heard to date. It blows the cell phone signals theory out of the water.

Like so many other things, it comes done to climate change... The bees will get confused when there is a warm day in the winter and think it is spring. The workers fly out to collect pollen, but alas there is no pollen to collect. The workers return and the active hive is hungry, so they eat out their stores. It gets cold again, and they go back into hibernation mode, but their reserves will no longer last them until the real spring rolls around. So they fly off... perhaps to look for green pastures (yellower pollen?), but more likely to die. Some can't even attempt the escape from the hive and lay among the honeycomb.

As I recall a large portion of the keynote address at my graduation from U of R was about disappearing bees (it was the hippest news story of 2003). It kind of made sense I suppose, we were the Yellow Jackets, but the speaker related the bees disappearing to us graduates 'disappearing' out into the 'real world'. Kind of a grim comparison if you ask me most of these bees probably just flew off somewhere and died, but oh well.

When I Ride Around in the Truck I Feel Like Tommy Lee Jones for Some Reason.

My Recovery Story - Part 3 - 3/18 - 1:40pm

There's something about jumping out of a truck in a hefty pair of shit-kicker boots. The way you have to let yourself fall just a little bit, but make it look like you are just stretching your legs.

The way the dust kicks up --- poooof ---- as both feet hit the ground together.

The way the hands know what to grab outta the truck without your eyes having to look.

Yeah, when I get out of that truck I am not Dave, and I don't have to repair the wall to that high tunnel. I am Tommy Lee, looking for some bad guy to kick with my shit-kickers.

And if I really were Tommy Lee, I would spit, look at the sky and say something about America.

Perhaps, "America, boy howdy, America."

PEACE

The Airstream = Nantucket

3/18: 1:50 pm

I am beginning to feel at home in my airstream trailer, it is cozy and comfortable. I am also getting to know The Farm better as well, although my mind is still drawing connections right and left to other places I have been. I think I know why this is. At the moment The Farm is a job and The Farmers are my bosses. I've had hard jobs before, some much, much harder than farm work. I would toil and complain (sometimes), but at the end of the day I always got to return to a place I considered home. My family or friends would be around and we could all forget about work for awhile.

Well... My home now is the airstream -- and it is located on The Farm. It's like I am sleeping at the office.

The place my trailer reminds my of the most is my Great Aunt Margret's beach house on Nantucket, strangely enough. I have been fortunate enough to stay there on several occasions.

The reasons for the comparison are thusly...

1) I have to bow my head to exit.
2) All the dishes rattle when I walk around inside.

Both are true of both places, but I only realized this when both 1 & 2 happened at once. Now I imagine the winds in the trees and the sounds of the green house vents and fans as the ocean. The rooster's Cokadoodle is the seagulls Gawfuaa and the Cows, well they're Sea Cows (Manatees?).

I realized something else odd, upon the Nantucket discovery. I believe this will be the only time I have ever lived in a land-locked state. The ocean is important and I am sure I be changed in someway by its absence. Every notice how most of the great and well-known cities are on the ocean? Sure, sure... ports, trade routes... I know. There are logical explanations, but I think there may be some deeper connection between humans and the sea.

Thank God 4 IBPROFIN

My Recovery Story - Part 2 - 3/16/09 - 6:20pm

Well, it's the third day I've been here, or nearing the end of the 2nd work day... however you want to look at it.

I must say, I am doing significantly better than that 1st night. I get good cell reception in the trailer and talking to my friends and family makes my isolation less pronounced. Of course I am not alone here. I trade jokes with Mr and trade facts with Mrs, and I have been learning a lot from both of them. There is just so much to do and learn here. Frankly, I'm not sure how they get along without someone else helping as well. It must be near impossible to keep on top of everything.

Today I ran across their bee-keeping operation as I was strolling around the farm. Two of the four hives seem abandoned, but the others are going strong. Not only do the bees provide honey, they also help to pollinate their flowers and orchards, but I will write more on that subject in a later Flog.

The summer is stretching before me silent and still, sometimes like a desert, othertimes as a whirlwind adventure. When I think of all the long, hot, sweaty hours I will be logging on this farm I am either apprehensive, but more often hopeful. And I am learning to like the work and the farm more and more everyday.

Some of the work actually helps me to forget about the work, if that makes any sense, especially when I'm with the animals. When I am feeding the cows or chickens or collecting eggs, for a minute there, I start to think about what an easy life the animals have and may even feel a moment of envy. They are very well feed and treated on the farm. Sure they may be eaten someday, but those cows, their only worry is where to find the next chomp of grass or hay -- and it is normally not hard for them to find or accomplish. When I am thinking about the cows or the chickens, I must become like them, because before I know it they are feed and I am on to the next task.

Life can be very easy for us humans too (I've led a remarkable worry-free life so far) it's just our minds which make it hard.

I've had a similar experience playing with the dogs. The Farm is home to one large golden retriever and one rottweiler, also large. When I am roomping through the grass with them or out in the woods, I cease to be David, away from his friends, and am just a dog on the farm. A pretty great thing to be, I'd say.

Another little detail that keeps me motivated... verbal recognition. At the end of these past 2 days as The Farmers were heading to the house, and me to my airstream, they would stop for a moment and look back towards the bulk of the farm at the back of the house. They would each take a second and marvel at how much we had accomplished that day, and then tell me as much. This to me feels like a major head nod in my direction.

I can't say enough about the head nod -- because this is not just my recovery story -- this is America's recovery story, and if I can help The Farmers during their recovery story, my own will have more value.

And, hopefully, anyone who reads this blog will take from it some of what I have learnt, and then their recovery stories will be added to ours. We have to work together on this one peoples. Help your neighbor, trust your friends, and above all, share your story.

Quick Musical Note

I still have a bunch of back entries to post up -- they are saved in a notebook at the moment. But a quick note while I am waiting for the drill's battery paks to charge.

The Art Punk Band has realised their a new album titled 'Roots and Vices'.

The album is on Jamendo.


PEACE.

The Runaway Cow

3/15 6:20pm

The Runaway Cow didn't have a name like the others. But she did have a reason to hop the fence. Maybe she was sick of hay. It is nearly time for them to start grazing. Or maybe because the electricity running through the fence around her wasn't actually running today.

What do I think?

It's in the name. I asked why she doesn't have one. Turns out, the Farmers don't give names to the cows they plan on eating. All of a sudden, the reason for escape seems obvious.

They should take the route of my Uncle who farms. His cows are named Big Mac or Ground Beef or something like that. A cow may be too dumb to understand it's name, but I bet you it knows when it lacks one. From now on (until May at least, ummm) I think I'll just call her cow.





Peace.

Massacre in the Chicken Coup

We round the corner of the high powered tunnel, treading towards the laying hens. They keep two coups of chickens, one must be like austhwitz for birds. The other, the one for the current, egg-laying chickens, is a lot roomier. That's where we were headed --- to feed the birds and collect the eggs.



The first thing we saw was the body of the mangled rooster. They've got to put one rooster in there with the egg-heads.



It's head was crushed and one of it's legs was torn asunder. As we get closer more corpses, those of hens, become visible. There were 3 dead in total, 2 missing, and, upon further investigating, 1 which was alive, but fatally wounded. It was in need of a mercy killing, but where or not this will be done will have to be the subject of another Flog Entry.



Several looked as if they had escaped the chomping of jaws by their tail feathers.



The rooster seemed to have done its job though. While the hen corpses were on the far side of the enclosure, the rooster's body had been half pulled through the electric fence. The fence itself was knocked aside, the roosters laying at the point of incursion. It had died protecting the rest of the birds.

I asked what could have done this. Domesticated dogs is the most likely answer, I learned. The wild animals (cayotes, foxes, birds of prey) generally take their kills back to their dens. Only dogs, corrupted by the violence of men, would kill 3 or 4 birds, and only take a bite or two of each. This was a violent act among farm animals and pets. A war among the domesticated, a war among the slaves of man.

The Farm -- Part 1

Flog Entry 1 -- My Recovery Story -- The Farm (Part 1) -- 3/14/2009 -- 7:46 pm

I rolled up to the farm today.

Landed in Nashville airport about 4:30 pm and met 'The Farmers' who drove me into Kentucky. We didn't get to The Farm until 7pm or so, but we did stop for dinner -- their treat.

As I was riding, watching the country-side, and making conversation, my mind grasped for comparisons in my surroundings to things I had recently left. That cluster of trees is like upstate NY, this restaurant reminds me of this time in the city when...

'The Farmers' are a husband and wife team and they know their shit.... at least compared to me. The task ahead is daunting. At the moment I feel like I've read a novel with every other line crossed out and asked to summarize. I can do it, no problem, but can I do it well?

The Farm itself is not what I was expecting. It is smaller than I thought it would be, and the pictures on their website were obviously taken awhile ago; all seems to be well and in order. But I have yet to have the farm tour.

As I sit here, writing this, the reality of my new situation is setting in. For the first time in my life I feel I am truly alone. The airstream trailer, which is my new space, seems as far removed from civilization as the cloud sending rain drops to pitter patter on my roof.

A drop escapes from my eye every so often as well, but, in my defence, it is a dusty trailer.

Kidding aside, I am worried I made the wrong choice, guilty about leaving my friends, and scared I will never be able to reclaim the life I once had. But at the same time I have got to see this through. It is for the people I left behind I am doing this; it is for my brothers.

As silly as this sounds: this is my recovery story. Before I left I would joke about why I wanted to do this. I would say something like 'e'rybodies got to eat!' or, 'if the economy does collapse all I'll need is a spot of land.' Now that I am actually here my joke reasons, ironically, are what makes this hole in my gut and crack in my heart bearable. Sorry for being melodramatic, but god damn. It's only my first night and I miss you guys. I miss my family, I miss the city.

It will get better -- I know, I know. I'll get into a rhythm. Get to knows the The Farmers better -- that will make things easier.

This is me. This is me on The Farm. This is me on The Farm learning. This is me on The Farm learning to fight invisible enemies.

Don't forget about me NYC. Don't fall under the the sea while I am gone. Please, please wait for me.... cause I'll be back.

This is my recovery story. I gave up NYC, a job in the music industry, and the happiest time of my life, for a dream and a just in case. What if... what a journey for a what if...