Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Thankful for...

            One of the best things about Corvallis, what I am most thankful for this season, is the level of community engagement in all sorts of issues. In the last few weeks, we have worked with three different organizations who are all working towards making Corvallis a more sustainable place to live. It has given us some new things to chew on over the long Thanksgiving weekend.

            Two weeks ago, we went to a presentation on residential solar power, sponsored by Abundant Solar and Seeds for the Sol. The first half of the talk was technical. We learned about all of the rebates available right now for solar panels; we could get over half of our money back between rebates and tax credits. The presenter all discussed how solar panels have become more efficient, so a smaller array could power the house. That interested me, because we do not have a huge, open, south-facing roof. Our house is aligned east/west, and part of the roof is shaded by a huge fig tree.  When I came home and looked at our electric bill, and saw that we average 6 KWH per day, I began to reconsider the panels. Maybe we could do this….It is a low priority, but I may ask Abundant Solar to swing by this Winter Break and let me know if it could happen.
            Seeds for the Sol (www.seedsforthesol.org) directed the second half of the presentation on funding other family’s panels. If you are not in a perfect location, but still want to increase solar power in town, you can donate to the organization by directly purchasing panels, or by purchasing the federal tax credits. Mark was very interested in this idea, because it was easy. He could do it this year, and it would help decrease our reliance on fossil fuels as a community.  We came home excited to consider, once again, how we could make our house more sustainable.

            Last week, we attended the League of Women Voters presentation on carbon taxes. They had organized a panel discussion with two economists for Portland State, a woman from Sightline Institute, and a University of Oregon law school professor. Each presented for about ten minutes, and questions followed. This being Corvallis, a town full of engineers and math geeks, the economists, who had been studying carbon taxes and designing models to judge the financial impact of different prices, received the most questions. Everyone wanted to see the data. (They promised a new study next week! http://www.pdx.edu/nerc/sites/www.pdx.edu.nerc/files/carbontax2013_0.pdf) If we established a tax of 100 dollars per ton of carbon, we would just meet our  targeted emissions. But was the politically feasible? What would the impact on the economy be? All of the presenters considered British Columbia, which has had such a tax for several years, and California, which is working on a similar idea.  There will be a bill in the Oregon Legislature for the next session.

            Finally, inspired by all of the discussions in our house about carbon footprint and recycling what we do not need, I called Corvallis Furniture to pick up several pieces of furniture we had rescued from the streets. There was a wooden desk, a chair, and a small table lurking in our basement.  Corvallis Furniture  was started by a group of students who were appalled by the amount of good furniture that is cast into the streets to rot at the end of every school year. They collect decent stuff, take it back to a workshop, and refurb it. Sometimes it gets a coat of paint; sometimes it is transformed into a totally new design. Either way, it is off the streets. They have a store front in town, so, in a few weeks, I could visit my rescued and repaired desk!  (corvallisfurniture.com – or check out their FaceBook page)

            All in all, I am, as always, thankful to live where I do, in a small city where people not only talk—a great deal—but also take positive action every day.

Peanutbutter Cookies: Whenever we have a meeting, we have cookies.

1/2 cup butter
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 egg 1 t vanilla

Beat well.  then add

2 cups of white flour
1/4 t salt
1 t BS
maybe some chocolate chips. Or raisins. Or nuts....

The dough is a bit crumbly, but holds together if you use a firm hand in shaping. 

Bake in 350 degree oven.





Sunday, November 16, 2014

The Chicken Hug

           
pipes
 Our chicken coop is perfect-sized for two chickens. It is five feet by four feet, A framed, sized to perch on garden beds in the winter and under the laurel tree in the summer. However, we often have more than two chickens, because we like to keep the eggs coming, but cannot kill an old hen. We put them out to pasture. This is a problem; the coop that holds two ladies peacefully creates mayhem when there are four, still working out turf battles. For years, we fought with chicken wire and rebar to extend the run, but it was a huge pain, so we built The Hug. The Hug is a lightweight frame made from pvc pipe, bird netting, yarn, and a bit of duct tape. It is not elegant—yet—but it is highly functional and very inexpensive to construct.

  1. Visit Habitat for Humanity to purchase the pvc pipe and the joints.
  2. On a sunny afternoon, lay the pipes out on the garden beds to measure and cut to fit, using an old hack saw.
  3. Join together with the pipe connectors.
  4. Check for sizing on the bed.
  5. Trim a little more off of the end near the fence, so it fits into the bed. Leave the coop end a little wider so the gate opens up inside of the Hug.
  6. Re-assemble.
  7. Wrap the entire thing in bird netting and sew on using old yarn. A snazzy color is nice. Duct tape the edges near the gate so that they do not snag.
  8. Place on the garden bed, next to the coop.
  9. Using old fence boards, create the “hug” effect by attaching the fence boards to the coop, jutting out to reach (or hug) the run. This fills in the gap between coop and run.
  10. Lift the gate so that it becomes the ceiling between hug and coop. Attach to the upper pipe.
  11. Let the Ladies out. Enjoy the peace of having four chickens who are no longer constantly bumping into one another.
  12. When the weather gets worse, rig a sheet of used plastic roofing over the hug to keep the rain off of the chickens.


Cauliflower Cheese Soup kind of from Moosewood Cookbook, circa 1982

2 potatoes
3 carrots
a medium head of cauliflower
one onion
salt, pepper, dillweed to taste

Chop and boil in minimal water until soft.

While waiting, grate a cup and a half of cheddar cheese and about half a cup of parmesan.

When the veggies are soft, puree in two batches. Add the cheese to one. Pour back into the pan, add a couple of cups of milk (until it is as thick as you like it) and reheat slowly.       

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Wintery Mix is Coming!

Winter is coming to the Willamette Valley. Usually, it flows in softly on a bed of clouds but, because we are so far north (equal to Calais, Maine, if you live on that side of the country), when the cloud cover goes, it is cold! For the last two days, the sky has been bright blue, brisk winds have blown, and there has been electricity in the air. Now that the clouds are coming back, we are seeing “Wintery Mix” in the forecast.

I spent Veteran’s Day snugging in plant communities. In the morning, I headed out to Sunbow Farm, figuring I would spend a few hours in the greenhouses, pulling up weeds and prepping for winter plantings. But, because of the forecast—24 degrees overnight!—Harry and Nate had bigger concerns. “Take this twine,” Nate asked, “and weave it across the entrances.” The newer greenhouses were breathing heavy, in and out, in and out with the wind, putting strain on the plastic covers. The twine could stabilize the flapping. Using orange binder twine and a small ladder, I designed a series of crossing strings that looked, from outside, like a pentagram. “Cool!” Nate called. “I love this guerilla farming stuff!” He staked down sandbags. Then we unzipped the front and back curtains in greenhouse five and replaced them. Standing on a ladder, wrestling with the greenhouse zipper in the bright breeze—it was a glorious way to spend the morning.

After lunch, I went to work in my own backyard. First, the chicken coop needed to be wrapped in plastic film for the winter. Because of the orientation of the garden beds, the coop is wide open to the westerly winter winds. I found the pieces I used last year in the shed and stapled them on. Once the Ladies were settled, I rigged a cold frame out of large tomato cages, rested on the garlic and onion beds, and covered them with more plastic. I repaired the sheet rigged over an experimental bed of Winter Peas as cover crop, then moved quickly onto the leaf project. All of the garden beds had piles of leaves dumped in the middle, but the mulch needed to be spread across each bed and snugged down around the roots of the overwintering plants. Collards, leeks, sprouting broccoli and the last of the beets   were all covered. Because I had moved so quickly, I still had time to rake up the leaves that had spilled out, tangled with day lily stems and some old amaranth that had sprouted in the aisles. It was all dumped onto the beds as well. Compost In Place, I thought.  By this time, the air was growing nippy and the sun was setting, so I went inside, glad we had already hung the wooden storm windows.

This afternoon, I watched the sky from my classroom. I could see heavy dark clouds on the horizon, but the precipitation was holding off. I fled before all of the students had cleared the building. Leaves, the beautiful red maple leaves down the street, had been raked into the road and were waiting for me to rescue them. Quickly, I gathered the rake and wheelbarrow. Rake, scoop, and dump…six barrow loads covered the front garden in a lovely glowing blanket. My last act was to bring the scented geraniums inside for the duration. I spread a small blanket for the cats on the window bench and we are ready for the cold.

Chai Tea


2 cinnamon sticks
2 chunks of candied ginger
10 crushed cardamom pods
1t whole coriander seed
.5 t peppercorns
.5 t whole cloves
4 c of water—simmer the spices for twenty minutes (cover the pan)

Add 3t of tea and 1 cup of milk. Bring to a gentle boil, then steep for about five minutes. Strain and add honey.




Sunday, November 2, 2014

November Work List

November Work List


It is time to move inside, to snug down, to venture out on cold, dank afternoons for long walks, then come home to sit by the fire.


·       Leaf mulch
·       Do NOT leave the pumpkins to rot on the steps
·       Clean up garden beds—compost in place for flower beds
·       Pie social
·       Sort the knitting wool
·       Find clothes drying racks
·       Split wood
·       Clean out the heater filter
·       Bring in the outdoor furniture
·       Create the holiday cards
·       Make fruitcake
·       Hang the storm windows
·       Rake leaves
·       Oil bike chains and fix the lights
·       Fill Your Pantry with beans and grains


Pumpkin Bread

3.5 c flour (wheat and white)
2 t BS
.5 t BP
1.5 t salt
1 t cinnamon
.5 t nutmeg
.5 t cloves
handful of raisins or chocolate chips or nuts or all three

2/3 c veg oil
2 c pumpkin
4 eggs
2 c white sugar
2/3 c milk

Mix wet and dry in separate bowls, then mix together. Pour into two bread pans and bake in 350 degree oven

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Autumn

In the Willamette Valley, warm dry October afternoons are deeply unsettling. Natives are especially nervous, eying the blue skies like there is something fundamentally wrong with golden sunshine. And then, one day, the clouds roll in, smelling of the sea. Deep grey, they drop the sky down to a more human scale, and then, more come. And more. Soon, they bump up against the Cascades and flow back over the valley. One afternoon, the rains begin. In my north-facing classroom, we look up. Cross-country runners calculate the rainfall and potential mud creation quickly, and smile. Readers snuggle deeper into their minds, looking forward to the long evenings curled up in bed, reading and listening to the quiet conversations of the rain. The ceiling of our world descends, snugging us all in for the long winter nights, and everything feels right once again

Other signs of Autumn:
·        Wool socks
·        Squash in the Larder
·        Winter Wheat colors the fields a deep green.
·        Fuzzy pants in the evening
·        Cats nap all day long
·        Flan.
·        Fires on Sunday mornings.
·        Pumpkins everywhere!

Sugar Cookies from 1957

3/4 c of soft shortening (half butter)
1 c sugar
2 eggs
.5 t vanilla

Mix together.

Add 2.5 c flour, 1 t BP, and 1 t salt

Mix and chill for an hour or so. Then, roll out and cut into leaf shapes.

Bake in 350 degree oven until golden.

.


Sunday, October 19, 2014

Putting the "Urban" into Urban Homesteading

I am not well-rested these days.

 After a long week of work and meetings, I looked forward to a decent night’s sleep on the weekend of October 3rd. However, other residents had different plans.

On Friday night, we were woken up at least three times by drunks passing by the house, bellowing. The first time is not a big deal; we can roll over and go back to sleep. The second is worse—there’s a shot of adrenalin that happens when you are woken from a sound sleep by a scream. The third leaves you lying in bed, waiting for the other shoe to drop—or scream to happen.
Saturday night, we stayed up until eleven, despite short sleep, hoping to find the near-by parties and bust them before we fell asleep. Around ten-thirty, the noise began. Groups of ten to twelve people walked by, discussing alcohol loudly. A group of males began chanting at one another. Three stood on one corner. “Old man! Old man!” they bellowed. “Old man! Old man!” another group responded from two blocks away. “Dude, wait up!” another called. Everyone was heading south, towards Frat row. I walked the neighborhood, busted one party where the attendees were standing outside, surrounded by a sea of beer cans, and went to bed. The noise continued. Groups walked by, every fifteen to twenty minutes, until around one AM.
The next morning, I walked down my street to take photographs, which I have attached. I ran into a neighbor, hanging our “Rights and Responsibilities” door hangers. She told me that a young man asked her what she was doing. When she explained, he took a handful of hangers to distribute on his side of King’s Blvd.

 By October10th, the next Friday night, we were unable to sleep, once again, because of herds of shouting drunks passing by out house…so we were primed to be upset by Saturday’s events.
The fraternity in our neighborhood had a very loud party on Sat afternoon. So loud, in fact, that one of our city councilors, who was at my house on another errand, was appalled. There was screaming, chanting, and music ricocheting off of all of the cement walls in the neighborhood. “Not unusual,” we told him. “It used to happen at two AM. This is progress.” After hearing the party in our basement, my partner called in a noise complaint; the police visited and nothing changed. When we called in the second time, an hour later, the police came around the back of the building and had a long conversation with the membership. Silence reigned.
Around six o’clock, the herds began passing once more. One group of four boys began screaming in front of the first house on the block and ramped up the volume as they walked along the sidewalk. They stopped outside of our house shouting, “Fuck you!” “Motherfucker” and “It’s still light out!” then screamed and continued along the block. This was clearly targeted harassment.
At 8:30, we could hear another party from inside the house, with the windows shut. When we investigated, we found it a block and a half away, across King’s Blvd, in a backyard. I called it in, only to be told that the police had just that moment arrived to break it up. Herds continued to wander the streets around our house. When I heard another party at 9:55, I went out to investigate. It was the frat across the way, playing tribal drums and chanting—as well as several parties in the townhouses down the street. Before I could locate addresses, a dozen people, staggering drunk, headed my way down the sidewalk. One had enough visual acuity to spy my slender gray cat tagging along behind me and suggest that someone grab her. I scooped her up and fled inside.
We went to bed. Noise continued to swirl around the neighborhood—shouts, bass beat, sirens near and far-- until almost midnight, when there was a settling down. Just before we nodded off, red lights flashed into our room. The police and an EMT were bent over our front garden, rousing a student who had passed out in the foliage and been spotted by a passer-by. The EMT left quickly because of a drug overdose down the street, while the officer attempted to find a sober friend to come fetch the staggering young man. When the officer came to our door to explain the situation, he was remarkably cheerful and very professional. It was, we agreed, a very bad night.
I am detailing our experiences for you not because we are so unusual, but because they are so universal in the areas around the university. Friends have seen people peeing in their front yards, been woken up by young women screaming, and heard young men puking off of the roof next door every weekend until the cold rains drive the behavior inside.

Corvallis and Oregon State University have a serious alcohol problem. According to OSU statistics, 46% of the student population used alcohol in the last 30 days; 24 percent more than ten times. Within that group, the average number of drinks was 6, with a blood alcohol level of .09. As the CDC defines binge drinking as more than five drinks, with a blood alcohol level of .08%, this is alarming. Of greater concern, 42% of drinking students forgot where they were and what they had done, and five hundred and thirty seven were raped (labeled “someone had sex with you without your consent” on the chart). 

 It is clear to me that we still have considerable work to do on livability in our neighborhoods.  A small group of drunken individuals continue to hold our ability to sleep and enjoy our lives hostage.

Suggestions:
Bike patrols. Our doorhangers. Encourage all residents to call in when they are disturbed by rowdy behavior. Tone down promotion of drinking around football games and college. Remove the beer ads from city busses. Clean up trash and glass in the streets. Lean on landlords to monitor behavior and respond to complaints quickly.  Suspend and expel students for bad behavior. Do not sell alcohol after ten PM.




Oregon State University statistics from: http://studenthealth.oregonstate.edu/osu-drinking-statistics.

Binge drinking definition from http://www.cdc.gov/alcohol/fact-sheets/binge-drinking.htmI am not well-rested these days.

 After a long week of work and meetings, I looked forward to a decent night’s sleep on the weekend of October 3rd. However, other residents had different plans.

On Friday night, we were woken up at least three times by drunks passing by the house, bellowing. The first time is not a big deal; we can roll over and go back to sleep. The second is worse—there’s a shot of adrenalin that happens when you are woken from a sound sleep by a scream. The third leaves you lying in bed, waiting for the other shoe to drop—or scream to happen.
Saturday night, we stayed up until eleven, despite short sleep, hoping to find the near-by parties and bust them before we fell asleep. Around ten-thirty, the noise began. Groups of ten to twelve people walked by, discussing alcohol loudly. A group of males began chanting at one another. Three stood on one corner. “Old man! Old man!” they bellowed. “Old man! Old man!” another group responded from two blocks away. “Dude, wait up!” another called. Everyone was heading south, towards Frat row. I walked the neighborhood, busted one party where the attendees were standing outside, surrounded by a sea of beer cans, and went to bed. The noise continued. Groups walked by, every fifteen to twenty minutes, until around one AM.
The next morning, I walked down my street to take photographs, which I have attached. I ran into a neighbor, hanging our “Rights and Responsibilities” door hangers. She told me that a young man asked her what she was doing. When she explained, he took a handful of hangers to distribute on his side of King’s Blvd.

 By October10th, the next Friday night, we were unable to sleep, once again, because of herds of shouting drunks passing by out house…so we were primed to be upset by Saturday’s events.
The fraternity in our neighborhood had a very loud party on Sat afternoon. So loud, in fact, that one of our city councilors, who was at my house on another errand, was appalled. There was screaming, chanting, and music ricocheting off of all of the cement walls in the neighborhood. “Not unusual,” we told him. “It used to happen at two AM. This is progress.” After hearing the party in our basement, my partner called in a noise complaint; the police visited and nothing changed. When we called in the second time, an hour later, the police came around the back of the building and had a long conversation with the membership. Silence reigned.
Around six o’clock, the herds began passing once more. One group of four boys began screaming in front of the first house on the block and ramped up the volume as they walked along the sidewalk. They stopped outside of our house shouting, “Fuck you!” “Motherfucker” and “It’s still light out!” then screamed and continued along the block. This was clearly targeted harassment.
At 8:30, we could hear another party from inside the house, with the windows shut. When we investigated, we found it a block and a half away, across King’s Blvd, in a backyard. I called it in, only to be told that the police had just that moment arrived to break it up. Herds continued to wander the streets around our house. When I heard another party at 9:55, I went out to investigate. It was the frat across the way, playing tribal drums and chanting—as well as several parties in the townhouses down the street. Before I could locate addresses, a dozen people, staggering drunk, headed my way down the sidewalk. One had enough visual acuity to spy my slender gray cat tagging along behind me and suggest that someone grab her. I scooped her up and fled inside.
We went to bed. Noise continued to swirl around the neighborhood—shouts, bass beat, sirens near and far-- until almost midnight, when there was a settling down. Just before we nodded off, red lights flashed into our room. The police and an EMT were bent over our front garden, rousing a student who had passed out in the foliage and been spotted by a passer-by. The EMT left quickly because of a drug overdose down the street, while the officer attempted to find a sober friend to come fetch the staggering young man. When the officer came to our door to explain the situation, he was remarkably cheerful and very professional. It was, we agreed, a very bad night.
I am detailing our experiences for you not because we are so unusual, but because they are so universal in the areas around the university. Friends have seen people peeing in their front yards, been woken up by young women screaming, and heard young men puking off of the roof next door every weekend until the cold rains drive the behavior inside.

Corvallis and Oregon State University have a serious alcohol problem. According to OSU statistics, 46% of the student population used alcohol in the last 30 days; 24 percent more than ten times. Within that group, the average number of drinks was 6, with a blood alcohol level of .09. As the CDC defines binge drinking as more than five drinks, with a blood alcohol level of .08%, this is alarming. Of greater concern, 42% of drinking students forgot where they were and what they had done, and five hundred and thirty seven were raped (labeled “someone had sex with you without your consent” on the chart). 

 It is clear to me that we still have considerable work to do on livability in our neighborhoods.  A small group of drunken individuals continue to hold our ability to sleep and enjoy our lives hostage.

Suggestions:
Bike patrols. Our doorhangers. Encourage all residents to call in when they are disturbed by rowdy behavior. Tone down promotion of drinking around football games and college. Remove the beer ads from city busses. Clean up trash and glass in the streets. Lean on landlords to monitor behavior and respond to complaints quickly.  Suspend and expel students for bad behavior. Do not sell alcohol after ten PM.




Oregon State University statistics from: http://studenthealth.oregonstate.edu/osu-drinking-statistics.
Binge drinking definition from http://www.cdc.gov/alcohol/fact-sheets/binge-drinking.htmI am not well-rested these days.

 After a long week of work and meetings, I looked forward to a decent night’s sleep on the weekend of October 3rd. However, other residents had different plans.

On Friday night, we were woken up at least three times by drunks passing by the house, bellowing. The first time is not a big deal; we can roll over and go back to sleep. The second is worse—there’s a shot of adrenalin that happens when you are woken from a sound sleep by a scream. The third leaves you lying in bed, waiting for the other shoe to drop—or scream to happen.
Saturday night, we stayed up until eleven, despite short sleep, hoping to find the near-by parties and bust them before we fell asleep. Around ten-thirty, the noise began. Groups of ten to twelve people walked by, discussing alcohol loudly. A group of males began chanting at one another. Three stood on one corner. “Old man! Old man!” they bellowed. “Old man! Old man!” another group responded from two blocks away. “Dude, wait up!” another called. Everyone was heading south, towards Frat row. I walked the neighborhood, busted one party where the attendees were standing outside, surrounded by a sea of beer cans, and went to bed. The noise continued. Groups walked by, every fifteen to twenty minutes, until around one AM.
The next morning, I walked down my street to take photographs, which I have attached. I ran into a neighbor, hanging our “Rights and Responsibilities” door hangers. She told me that a young man asked her what she was doing. When she explained, he took a handful of hangers to distribute on his side of King’s Blvd.

 By October10th, the next Friday night, we were unable to sleep, once again, because of herds of shouting drunks passing by out house…so we were primed to be upset by Saturday’s events.
The fraternity in our neighborhood had a very loud party on Sat afternoon. So loud, in fact, that one of our city councilors, who was at my house on another errand, was appalled. There was screaming, chanting, and music ricocheting off of all of the cement walls in the neighborhood. “Not unusual,” we told him. “It used to happen at two AM. This is progress.” After hearing the party in our basement, my partner called in a noise complaint; the police visited and nothing changed. When we called in the second time, an hour later, the police came around the back of the building and had a long conversation with the membership. Silence reigned.
Around six o’clock, the herds began passing once more. One group of four boys began screaming in front of the first house on the block and ramped up the volume as they walked along the sidewalk. They stopped outside of our house shouting, “Fuck you!” “Motherfucker” and “It’s still light out!” then screamed and continued along the block. This was clearly targeted harassment.
At 8:30, we could hear another party from inside the house, with the windows shut. When we investigated, we found it a block and a half away, across King’s Blvd, in a backyard. I called it in, only to be told that the police had just that moment arrived to break it up. Herds continued to wander the streets around our house. When I heard another party at 9:55, I went out to investigate. It was the frat across the way, playing tribal drums and chanting—as well as several parties in the townhouses down the street. Before I could locate addresses, a dozen people, staggering drunk, headed my way down the sidewalk. One had enough visual acuity to spy my slender gray cat tagging along behind me and suggest that someone grab her. I scooped her up and fled inside.
We went to bed. Noise continued to swirl around the neighborhood—shouts, bass beat, sirens near and far-- until almost midnight, when there was a settling down. Just before we nodded off, red lights flashed into our room. The police and an EMT were bent over our front garden, rousing a student who had passed out in the foliage and been spotted by a passer-by. The EMT left quickly because of a drug overdose down the street, while the officer attempted to find a sober friend to come fetch the staggering young man. When the officer came to our door to explain the situation, he was remarkably cheerful and very professional. It was, we agreed, a very bad night.
I am detailing our experiences for you not because we are so unusual, but because they are so universal in the areas around the university. Friends have seen people peeing in their front yards, been woken up by young women screaming, and heard young men puking off of the roof next door every weekend until the cold rains drive the behavior inside.

Corvallis and Oregon State University have a serious alcohol problem. According to OSU statistics, 46% of the student population used alcohol in the last 30 days; 24 percent more than ten times. Within that group, the average number of drinks was 6, with a blood alcohol level of .09. As the CDC defines binge drinking as more than five drinks, with a blood alcohol level of .08%, this is alarming. Of greater concern, 42% of drinking students forgot where they were and what they had done, and five hundred and thirty seven were raped (labeled “someone had sex with you without your consent” on the chart). 

 It is clear to me that we still have considerable work to do on livability in our neighborhoods.  A small group of drunken individuals continue to hold our ability to sleep and enjoy our lives hostage.

Suggestions:
Bike patrols. Our doorhangers. Encourage all residents to call in when they are disturbed by rowdy behavior. Tone down promotion of drinking around football games and college. Remove the beer ads from city busses. Clean up trash and glass in the streets. Lean on landlords to monitor behavior and respond to complaints quickly.  Suspend and expel students for bad behavior. Do not sell alcohol after ten PM.




Oregon State University statistics from: http://studenthealth.oregonstate.edu/osu-drinking-statistics.
Binge drinking definition from http://www.cdc.gov/alcohol/fact-sheets/binge-drinking.htmI am not well-rested these days.

 After a long week of work and meetings, I looked forward to a decent night’s sleep on the weekend of October 3rd. However, other residents had different plans.

On Friday night, we were woken up at least three times by drunks passing by the house, bellowing. The first time is not a big deal; we can roll over and go back to sleep. The second is worse—there’s a shot of adrenalin that happens when you are woken from a sound sleep by a scream. The third leaves you lying in bed, waiting for the other shoe to drop—or scream to happen.
Saturday night, we stayed up until eleven, despite short sleep, hoping to find the near-by parties and bust them before we fell asleep. Around ten-thirty, the noise began. Groups of ten to twelve people walked by, discussing alcohol loudly. A group of males began chanting at one another. Three stood on one corner. “Old man! Old man!” they bellowed. “Old man! Old man!” another group responded from two blocks away. “Dude, wait up!” another called. Everyone was heading south, towards Frat row. I walked the neighborhood, busted one party where the attendees were standing outside, surrounded by a sea of beer cans, and went to bed. The noise continued. Groups walked by, every fifteen to twenty minutes, until around one AM.
The next morning, I walked down my street to take photographs, which I have attached. I ran into a neighbor, hanging our “Rights and Responsibilities” door hangers. She told me that a young man asked her what she was doing. When she explained, he took a handful of hangers to distribute on his side of King’s Blvd.

 By October10th, the next Friday night, we were unable to sleep, once again, because of herds of shouting drunks passing by out house…so we were primed to be upset by Saturday’s events.
The fraternity in our neighborhood had a very loud party on Sat afternoon. So loud, in fact, that one of our city councilors, who was at my house on another errand, was appalled. There was screaming, chanting, and music ricocheting off of all of the cement walls in the neighborhood. “Not unusual,” we told him. “It used to happen at two AM. This is progress.” After hearing the party in our basement, my partner called in a noise complaint; the police visited and nothing changed. When we called in the second time, an hour later, the police came around the back of the building and had a long conversation with the membership. Silence reigned.
Around six o’clock, the herds began passing once more. One group of four boys began screaming in front of the first house on the block and ramped up the volume as they walked along the sidewalk. They stopped outside of our house shouting, “Fuck you!” “Motherfucker” and “It’s still light out!” then screamed and continued along the block. This was clearly targeted harassment.
At 8:30, we could hear another party from inside the house, with the windows shut. When we investigated, we found it a block and a half away, across King’s Blvd, in a backyard. I called it in, only to be told that the police had just that moment arrived to break it up. Herds continued to wander the streets around our house. When I heard another party at 9:55, I went out to investigate. It was the frat across the way, playing tribal drums and chanting—as well as several parties in the townhouses down the street. Before I could locate addresses, a dozen people, staggering drunk, headed my way down the sidewalk. One had enough visual acuity to spy my slender gray cat tagging along behind me and suggest that someone grab her. I scooped her up and fled inside.
We went to bed. Noise continued to swirl around the neighborhood—shouts, bass beat, sirens near and far-- until almost midnight, when there was a settling down. Just before we nodded off, red lights flashed into our room. The police and an EMT were bent over our front garden, rousing a student who had passed out in the foliage and been spotted by a passer-by. The EMT left quickly because of a drug overdose down the street, while the officer attempted to find a sober friend to come fetch the staggering young man. When the officer came to our door to explain the situation, he was remarkably cheerful and very professional. It was, we agreed, a very bad night.
I am detailing our experiences for you not because we are so unusual, but because they are so universal in the areas around the university. Friends have seen people peeing in their front yards, been woken up by young women screaming, and heard young men puking off of the roof next door every weekend until the cold rains drive the behavior inside.

Corvallis and Oregon State University have a serious alcohol problem. According to OSU statistics, 46% of the student population used alcohol in the last 30 days; 24 percent more than ten times. Within that group, the average number of drinks was 6, with a blood alcohol level of .09. As the CDC defines binge drinking as more than five drinks, with a blood alcohol level of .08%, this is alarming. Of greater concern, 42% of drinking students forgot where they were and what they had done, and five hundred and thirty seven were raped (labeled “someone had sex with you without your consent” on the chart). 

 It is clear to me that we still have considerable work to do on livability in our neighborhoods.  A small group of drunken individuals continue to hold our ability to sleep and enjoy our lives hostage.

Suggestions:
Bike patrols. Our doorhangers. Encourage all residents to call in when they are disturbed by rowdy behavior. Tone down promotion of drinking around football games and college. Remove the beer ads from city busses. Clean up trash and glass in the streets. Lean on landlords to monitor behavior and respond to complaints quickly.  Suspend and expel students for bad behavior. Do not sell alcohol after ten PM.




Oregon State University statistics from: http://studenthealth.oregonstate.edu/osu-drinking-statistics.
Binge drinking definition from http://www.cdc.gov/alcohol/fact-sheets/binge-drinking.htm

Monday, October 13, 2014

Harvest Reckoning, 2014

Here it is—the annual reckoning of the harvest….

Tomatoes:
salsa 8 pints
                        Roasted 25 half pints
                        Dried 3 quarts
                        Longkeepers 10 pounds

Apples:
            Sauce 15 pints
            Cider 14 quarts
            Dried 6 quarts
            Butter 14 half pints

Blueberries:
            Frozen 2 quarts
            Dried 2 quarts

Peaches:
            Dried—2 quarts
            Canned 8 pints

Figs:
            Dried 3 quarts

Zucchini—one quart dried

Grapes:
            Dried 4 pints
            Juice 14 quarts

Pickles:
            Dill 6 quarts
            Senfgurken 5
            Beets 7 pints
            Red Cabbage 3 pints

Red Currant Juice: 5

Potatoes:
            Desiree 25 lbs.
            Ruby Crescent 8 lbs
            Yukon Gold 24 lbs
            Kennebec 21 lbs.
            All Blue 25 lbs

4 pumpkins
3 sweetmeat squashes


Roasted Eggplant and Tomato Pasta

Cube an eggplant and roast it in olive oil until soft. 

Saute onions in big cast iron frying pan until soft. Add eggplant and two half pints of roasted tomatoes, as well as a handful of olives, some salt and pepper, and basil.  You can also add a can of nice tuna, which puts the whole meal over the top.

Cook a large handful of whole wheat spaghetti. Mix the whole mess together and top with Parmesan cheese. Eat with salad.