Greenbackyard

The ultimate survivor

A few days ago we stood in front of our aquaponics system, looking dubiously into the stinky water. It was like looking into a tank of raw green sludge. The bottom was hidden under a depth of brack-ish green water. Mosquito larvae wriggled in the still, scum laden rainwater tank. No food had been dropped into the tank in months. Our plant beds were like little deserts – with a few weedy herbs clawing at the sky. Surely nothing could survive in such a toxic environment?

My brother made it clear he wanted the tank of water to go. Since the tank was right next to his room, he had a point. We knew that 10 of the 11 eleven original fish had perished. But what if that last fish was still alive? Surviving like a fishy Chuck Norris, deep in the tank? Tenaciously clinging to life like a Rambo – how could we get rid of the tank (or at least clean it out and reuse it) if, somewhere down there, it lived! We looked into the tank and our doubts were almost palpable. Surely, it had to be dead?

We started to drain the tank. Long hair like strands of green filaments coated the sides of the tank – I could only compare it to seaweed. The water didn’t get any clearer, but odd things emerged, like half sunken wrecks. As we got down to the last third, we stopped emptying the tank and got a big stick and had a bit of a poke around – juuuuuuusssssst in case…..

Suddenly, like a black shadow, out he darted!! I let out an excited yell. It made my day to find he was still there, incredibly, still fighting fit and swift as a flash of light. What a stayer! As my brother Stephen said (after whom we named every fish) – what a Highlander he is. “There can be… only one!” So we refilled the tank a bit and then had a good chat about what to do next.

The thing is, we need to transport the Highlander Fish to our new house and eventually build it a new aquaponics system – but our new house is 8 hours away. That’s a hard thing to do… Get it out of the swamp (er… current tank), get it into some in-between-time tank and then get it up to our new house and THEN get it into it’s long term accommodation. I sure will not be able to eat Highlander after this, he’s almost like family now, (and about as much trouble. And probably about as crazy.)

Anyway, we went out and bought a new fish tank for him. You can see the photo here. We need to leave it a week with a pump in it to settle down, before we transfer him into it, and finally clean the big tank. More on this saga later. I really hope that after living for so long in a toxic pool he doesn’t cark it the moment we introduce him to properly oxygenated water.

What to do with a small block of land full of fruit trees?

What would you do if you moved to a small block of land, smaller than a normal farm, full of established fruit trees? Well you might consider erecting a pot stil to make your own liquors and spirits. That’s just what the owners of the Tambourine Mountain Distillery did, in 1992, after they moved from Tasmania to the Glass House Mountains in Queensland.

“As we did not want to use chemical sprays on our fruit, we discovered that our products did not meet with market requirements’, their website says. “For a four person family, we had too much fruit, so we needed to ‘convert’ it into something which would make this small property productive.” See more of their story here.

What a wonderful idea! You should check out their site – it’s a delightfully personal and warm website, complete with pictures of their hand painted bottles, glowing stills, and caskets of maturing liquors. They’ve won numerous awards, and every bottle is hand-painted… and be sure to take a look at the peacock named Claude displaying his huge magnificent tail outside their show rooms. I can’t wait to visit in person.

Setting up a distillery in Australia is not easy at all, (which perhaps explains why there are so few of them.) Where-as in France and many European cultures, making alcohol at home is centuries old practice, that is still very much part of the tradition of cooking and food preparation, it is very uncommon in Australia, because the Government makes it very hard to own a Still. Owning a still even to make your own home made liquors, which you don’t intend to sell, without the proper license is illegal. You can’t own the still, make the liquor, store it, sell it, or move it, without a license.

When you get a license, the Government imposes what is called an excise duty on your goods. So for every litre of 40% proof alcohol you make, you need to pay the Government $65. A 750 ml bottle (think of a wine bottle) with 40% alcohol will have an excise duty of $18. Which you have to pay upfront, regardless of whether you sell this bottle or drink it yourself at home. If you sell it, you pay taxes and GST on the earnings after that. And just imagine the record keeping this all takes?!

And don’t even get me started on all the other licenses that you need to make your fruit into a tasty liquor. You need a license to store your alcohol, and to move it. I’m not yet sure how much each license costs… I assume the licenses themselves cost nothing, since the excise duty and the taxes on top would be a huge chunk of change for our dear Government anyway!

Which only goes to add an extra bravo to the family of the Tambourine Mountain Distillery, who have overcome these hurdles! Personally, I’m going to make my first batches of limonchello and orangechello with Vodka. I’m going to buy premade spirits and I’m going to think very fuzzy fuzzy thoughts about distilleries until one day when I finally have the gumption to face all the red tape. By which time , my next batch of Limonchello should b ready…

New tanks, new plans, new idea?

We’ve been thinking about a new aquaponics system - a phase 2 set-up. Ofcourse we only have a sketch on a back of a napkin at the moment, (so many good plans start like that!) but we’re thinking of a bigger system than our initial prototype we set up in the backyard in our last house.

A bigger set up will give us the chance to learn about medium size set-ups work. For instance, we can get an idea about how to scale up the technical stuff, such as the sort of the pumps we’ll need, how the beds full of vegetables will respond to the Bellingen climate, and what sort of problems a medium size rig will create (not that we are anticipating any, but its good to allow for the unforeseen.)

In the winter, it gets cold around where we are. Well, by cold I mean about 0 or just below – that’s centigrade. Not so cold by the standards of many of our friends, but that’s cold for a beach girl. It will be cold for our plants too – and our fish. Dealing with that cold will be new for us.

Perhaps one piece of the puzzle will be to use a marquee-tent that I found on on ebay. It might act as a makeshift housing for the tanks, (and possibly some beds), and by crikey we’d have to stake it down properly. But it might also act as a greenhouse within the tent, raising the temperature and stopping frost. I wonder if this will work?

New technologies at the service of civil society

For those who don’t follow me on Twitter, I recently was invited to participate in a panel during the launch of a series of workshops organised by Idealistas.org and I talked about it on my work blog. Head there to find out more

Old and new passions

When we were planning on coming over to Argentina, Danielle told me that she wanted to go to a football match and so we got in touch with Alejandro, a good friend of mine, that’s also a supporter of River Plate. The team hasn’t been doing great lately, last year, for the first time in its history, it finished the tournament last (how sad). Alejandro told us not get our hopes too high. My youngest sister, who had never been to a match, decided she wanted to join us (even though she is not a River Plate supporter).

We were very lucky to get free tickets through Alejandro and a friend of his. The tickets were for the “Platea Sivori“, which was behind the goal that River would be defending in the first half of the match. Most of the first half was OK until just as we were reaching half-time, a player from River plate barely touched (disclosure: I support River Plate) an Arsenal player and the referee didn’t even blink, declared a penalty and expulsed our player! What a start! This was the first match that both Danielle and my sister would be witnesses to? Seeing my team loose?

Fortunately, less than 5 min in the second half, my team equalised and after an excellent swap of players, Gallardo (aka El “Muñeco” Gallardo) scored a great goal in the first few minutes of the field and not much later a second, epic goal! Ok, I was happier now. This was a match worth watching. I even shot a very short and dodgy video with my phone.

This match had everything. 4 players saw the red card, we had a penalty, 4 goals, a roaring crowd … all of this in a beautiful Sunday afternoon in Buenos Aires. What started with some doubts ended up being a memorable afternoon.

Alejandro said that Ana (my sister) and Danielle had to witness all the matches from River Plate from now on since it was such a great game!

What really stood up for me was that after nearly 9 years overseas, I was really missing coming to a game here, where everyone is so passionate. It’s difficult to explain, as there’s a lot of violence during, before and after games and football has become such a money-driven show that conveying how a match like this one can make you feel seems impossible. However against all my preconcepts and all I remembered, I saw many families at the stadium. Fathers with their sons and daughters! Some of them little, younger than Zeek …

I really loved it! So did Danielle and I think Ana as well.

What to plant, when!

I just found this fantastic resource for gardeners:

http://www.gardenate.com/

I put in my growing climate (subtropical) and Gardenate tells you what to plant right now, and what to prepare for, for next month. How handy for those of us who just can’t remember what to get into the ground in time. Currently it works for residents of Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom.

So, how does it all start (part 4)

I have neglected my story over the past 3 weeks, I have all sort of excuses though: trip to Argentina, trip to Barcelona, work, life … all very demanding circumstances that distracted me for a bit. Some of these distractions are actually a product of what I was going to talk about in this post and life has provided me with real experiences that I can now share

As I was mentioning previously, we had just purchased, almost impulsively, this beautiful 10 acres farm in Northern NSW and we were now facing the most challenging times of our lives in recent times: we were new parents, we now had a mortgage and a house around 7h drive North of Sydney and my job was in Sydney or in Adelaide. Danielle was already working in a mostly remote situation, so for her the prospects of moving to the country were not as daunting as they were for me. Living in the country meant big changes without any doubt.

Let me quickly digress to a topic that’s not entirely related to the tree-change but will reveal a deep, troubling change that I went through and I think it’s one of the fundamental issues with moving away from the city, at least from my point of view, due to the way we are perceived in today’s society. I realised that I was building my own personality based on my profession or job title. I started to see myself through my work. I had been very lucky to have worked most of my life with extremely bright people, that were as eager as I was to continuously improve and learn, people that believed, like I did, in some basic values: collaboration, transparency, honesty. And when you get to spend your career working mostly in environments that are full of passionate, creative people, it’s hard not to get this type of “association” with work. I worked with GaiaSur in Buenos Aires, Argentina, then Greenpeace International in Amsterdam, The Netherlands and finally Rising Sun Pictures in Sydney and Adelaide, Australia. This is not my full work experience however it’s the last 11 years and in all those years, I had that privilege. I worked with some amazing, passionate, honest and creative people and I believe that it’s thanks to them that I became the person I am today (from a professional point of view). Of course, I have to claim some of that credit however the environment, the people that surrounded me, the people I worked with, showed me, in practical terms, what those values looked like in a commercial and non-profit world. It didn’t matter so much what type of work we did, from creating the infrastructure for a major ISP from the ground-up with mostly open source software, to figuring out how to engage world-wide audiences to solve the world’s environmental problems, I always got deeply involved as did all the people I worked with. And when you put so much energy into work, you start living your life through it. Or at least, that’s what happened to me. My own perception of myself was that I was that guy that worked with technology and people.

This perception of myself changed dramatically when Zeek was born. I think the specifics of the change are a topic for another post as it’s quite a deep change, which I saw in some good friends as well. Don’t take me wrong, it was a great change! I am extremely happy about it however it’s not an easy transition.

So, getting back to the tree-change. I was this persona, a CTO of a great company -this opens many doors in today’s society- and I only realised this after a few months of living up North and having a bit of time to reflect, if I moved up I would have to give that up, return to be Bruno. Could I actually be happy without a buzzing environment around me? Would this affect my career? Do I care about a career? I didn’t even know I would be asking those questions when we bought our house. And I am glad I didn’t otherwise I would have been paralised by fear at the time of making that decision.

When I turned 30 (almost 7 years ago), I swore to myself that I would not be paralysed by my fears, that I would face them and conquer them. Step by step I’ve been conquering some of them. For example, I really couldn’t stand spiders, I would freak out at the sight of even a tiny little one. Now, I can take a big hunstman (ok, it’s not a red-back or funnel-web) with a glass and take it outside without killing it and without sweating too much. I’ve started working towards my Private Pilot License and I am afraid of heights. So, when I was confronted with this fundamental fear of loosing that job title, I thought to myself “is that fear based on something real or fake?” and I believe it is fake. I decided I wasn’t my job title, I was myself, with all my flaws and also with all my experiences. And, what was the worst that could happen? The worst would have been to have to come back to our parents place without a house. Well, that’s not worst not taking the risk. It’s not a permanent loss. I never thought of material possessions as a fundamental definition of who I am even though I lost sight of that for a bit.

With the many people that I’ve talked about a tree-change, many mentioned keeping a certain level of income as one of the biggest challenges. Some mentioned keeping their career. The vast majority look at it as a way to get away from the vortex of our current consumerist society, reducing the stress, living a more balanced life. And finally, almost everyone thinks it’s a dream, something impossible to do. Danielle and I never really deeply thought about it until after we did and, despite the fears, the obstacles, we always thought that the changes it might bring would make us (her, Zeek and myself) much better for it, and if we gave up now, without trying, we would regret it all our life.

In the end, this post ended up being more about the fears that I had to face rather than obstacles. I think I will leave that to a follow-up post as I want to go and enjoy being with my son and my beautiful partner now and not be in front of the computer in a beautiful, sunny day, in Buenos Aires.

[To be continued...]

Becoming a beekeeper

I’ve been fascinated by bees ever since I was a kid. I remember sitting there reading everything I could about bees in the big old books my parents had in the 70’s, studying the close-up photos of the beehive. I was enchanted with how bee colonies worked - with multiple roles; Queen, workers, drones, young brood. I described at dinner when I was about 11 how bees found sources of pollen and told other bees about it by dancing special dances inside their hives, and how they us the pollen sacs on their legs as ballast when they fly. When I was 12, a friend and I were pretending to be wildlife reporters for National Geographic, and we ’snuck up’ on a colony of wild bees to take photos of them - and I was immensely surprised when several flew out in an angry swarm and tried to sting me, while my friend almost peed herself laughing. Even with this experience, I’ve always liked bees.

So this year, I’m going to do a course on how to become a beekeeper. It has a two day practical session in September 2009, and I’m planning, nay… scheming, to get some friends to do this with me so it can be extra fun. And the great bit is that the course is run over the internet. Perfect for someone living in the country.

I certainly hope this interview between Rowan Atkinson and John Cleese about beekeeping is part of the course

Herdshare - what a great idea

So I’m in Buenos Aires, and it’s a weekend, and I can hear Bruno’s father playing the violin softly in the next room. I’ve got a small window to post something about an excellent initiative back in NSW Australia that has be all a jitter with exitamento. It’s called Herdshare.

Let’s rewind a bit. I recently tasted some cheese made by a friend, and with a glass of red wine it was trully excellent. Australia doesn’t really have a long history of hand made cheese, although we’re really beginning to develop that market. Anyway, I thought my friend made a top cheese, and even though she told me it took a long time to make, I wondered if I could do the same. Then, one day while browsing Ebay, I saw a cheese press. You can buy these things - I’d have to buy it from the States. Now as all my geek friends will appreciate, once you know there is a tool to do something,  your concept suddenly ventures from the realm of ‘vague idea’ to ‘plausible endeavour’. So I started looking for ways to make cheese.

Then I hit upon a snag. Many cheeses (though not all!) require unpasturised milk. And that is illegal in Australia. Raw milk for drinking purposes is illegal in all states and territories, as is all raw cheese. Why? Because raw milk can contain some potentially fatal pathogens such as non-pulmonary tuberculosis, typhoid, and salmonella. That doesn’t sound good upon first reading. If I understand correctly, these pathogens can get into the milk if the dairy herd isn’t clean and well managed. The public health issue is that tuberculosis and typhoid will always be present in raw milk, pasteurization is one way to make sure this can be controlled. But there are some organizations out there that say that raw milk has health benefits that are destroyed in the pasteurization process, and that it can be produced hygienically.

After reading this power point slide from the Weston A. Price Foundation, who helped establish a non-profit organization dedicated to protecting the rights of farmers to provide meat, eggs, raw dairy products, vegetables and other foods directly to consumers in the United States, I’ve personally decided that providing certain hygienic standards in the dairy are met, and providing the cows are allowed to graze in pasture, we should be able to buy and sell raw milk. I’m not convinced that the pasteurization process is the only option.

So, along comes Herdshare! A brilliant new idea in Australia. To quote directly from the brochure “A herdshare is a co-operative of people who, together, buy a herd of animals and pay a farmer to care for their herd, milk their animals and deliver their product via their local farmer’s market. ” So the farmers don’t own the cows - they just manage them for the owners. The owners are people like me, who pay a little bit to become an owner up front, and a little bit per month for ongoing herd maintenance done by the farmer. Herdshare connects people like me who are interested in buying raw milk (or fresh butter, or real cream) with herdshare collectives. Then I get some milk every week - I don’t pay for it, because I own the cows, and the farmer doesn’t sell it, because he just manages the cows. No one breaks any laws, and I can make cheese!

Impressions of Buenos Aires: our home

I’ve been here about 2 weeks now and I still feel like everything is so new. But I can’t let it go too long without posting something, or the early wonder will be replaced by new things that amaze me.

Firstly, I’m staying with Bruno’s family in Boedo, which he has described to me as a lower income area outside the centre of the main city. It is so beautiful. Many of the buildings are decaying; their facades are still intact and show the curls and scrolls of the mid nineteenth century, with beautiful doors and windows from another era. It looks like a decaying Paris. Its common to pass a building here with all the architecture of another time fronting the street; the top floors seem wrapped with art nouveau scrolls and curlicues, the bottom floor is a mechanic’s yard. The skyline is mainly low, as most houses aren’t large and many houses have rooftop areas where people dry their washing. The heat and humidity climbs from the morning, so that by the afternoon its hot and time to get in the baby pool in the garden. And evening, past 7, is the best time, when the boys from the neighborhood play football in the cross section of the street just outside the door. The long shadows stretch away from their bodies. The light has an amazing luminous, dusty quality, it makes me think of paintings and honey.

This house itself is an oasis. Beatrice, Bruno’s mother, and Marta, her best friend and home help, look after Ezequiel for many hours at a time each day – allowing me to work. It’s a gift that I just can’t measure. It feels like I’ve become lighter, and all it probably is is that I’ve finally had time to reconnect with myself. The constant demands of being a parent haven’t left me much time to do that over the last year and a half, and I feel like I’ve just woken up after a deep deep sleep. The house has been renovated and the new internal spaces are full of light. One whole room has books stretched up the ceiling, and 4 violins hanging from a wall. The small garden outside, so unusual in this area, has immensely tall walls, along which sweet edible grapes grow. Every day I can see the juicy bulbs getting ripe in the sun. Under the grapes they have a lantana plant, which attracts a variety of bright orange butterflies to the garden. Other flowers remind me of my mother, especially the white impatiens, the fragrant ginger flowers and the star jasmine. The grass is so soft underfoot; I know I am in a foreign country that such softness could exist. I think often of my own wild, prickly garden in Australia, as the contrast is delightful. The immensity of the 10 acres we have at home is so different to this tiny but beautiful green extension to the house. I get such a feeling of protection here, a feeling which is bourn out when I see a hummingbird hovering around the lantana flowers early one morning. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until it leaves. A rare garden for butterflies, bees and birds.

And babies. My son loves it here. And why not, he has three adoring women to play with everyday. The house is child friendly with lots of toys and lego blocks in the main room. He has already explored all the buttons, drawers and pots in the kitchen, and still finds them fascinating day after day. This morning he came in a pushed a button on his Grandfathers computer here, which ejected the cd holder. In terror, he ran into my arms crying about the monster thing. And he still wants his mother during his day – despite all the playtime, he still comes in to check I’m here every so often, and to get a cuddle, for a few moments. At this moment Bruno is in Barcelona – and I think Zeek misses him. Every time someone leaves via the front door, Zeek cries hard. I conjecture that he understands loss. His understanding of consequence is developing. He understands that his hat means he is going outside. Sometimes he’ll go and grab his hat and put it on, ready to be taken to the park. He understands that doors open and close, but need to tested for this functionality every day. He understands that things go inside the washing machine, so he puts things in there when it isn’t being used. Shoes. Pegs. Half eaten biscuits. He understands that giving kisses is a good thing. Once he gives one person a kiss, all the people in the room must also be given a kiss. It’s only fair.

  

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