#best herbicides

[naclindustriesltd]

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[niteshade925]

Genshin is one of those games where you should just play the game. Don't join those forums. I was bored so I looked at one. Instant regret. Don't do it guys.

[umangharyana]

गेहूं की बिजाई के बाद इस दवा का करें छिड़काव, नहीं तंग करेंगे खरपतवार

नई दिल्ली: अगर आप गेहूं की खेती करते हैं तो यह खबर आपके लिए बेहद काम की है। गेहूं की बुवाई के समय और इसके बाद खरपतवार नियंत्रण करना बेहद जरूरी है, क्योंकि यह फसल की गुणवत्ता और उत्पादन को सीधे तौर पर प्रभावित करता है। सही तकनीक और सटीक उपाय अपनाने से आप न केवल खरपतवार को नियंत्रित कर सकते हैं, बल्कि अपनी फसल का उत्पादन 20-30% तक बढ़ा सकते हैं। इस लेख में हम आपको गेहूं की खेती के दौरान खरपतवार…

[dhanukaagritech]

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[solarpunkani]

what are some things we can do to make the world better?

Gosh, this is a big question. It's also definitely something that's been on my mind for a long, long time. I mean, honestly, how could it not be?

I'm not gonna be able to provide any revolutionary, mind bending answers on this. I'm honestly something more akin to a coward, if anything--I'm not gonna be able to recommend going to protests or rebel action without being a huge hypocrite.

I guess what I did is pick a couple of topics to try my best to learn as much about as possible, so I can know what I can do to help, and then try to do as much of that stuff as possible. So in my case right now its gardening. I basically went 'oh? Butterflies and bees and pollinators are at risk due to habitat loss? Is there anything I can do about it?' Learned about what I could do about it (start a garden, grow certain plants, avoid certain practices like using pesticides and herbicides in said garden, etc.), and then did as much of that stuff as is reasonable for me. And then I also shared what I was doing with other people, and encouraged and helped them do it too if they're interested.

Is my rinky dink mismatched chaotic pollinator garden changing the world? Making the whole entire place better? Not necessarily. Maybe it's making the world a bit better for the pollinators that stop by though, and if I can convince more and more people to start pollinator gardens then it can help more pollinators. I bounced off from pollinator gardening to grow vegetables too, which I can then share with my community (donating to food banks/community fridges, or just offering some to the neighbors) which can definitely help as well.

You can use this process in other aspects too. Monarchs and milkweeds is what caught my eye and drew me to pollinator gardening, but maybe it just doesn't hit for you. Maybe you're more interested in fish, or ecosystems in rivers and streams. You can look into ways to help, and maybe then you'll get into cleaning riverbanks and such. Or maybe you're moreso interested in something like food scarcity and food deserts, and you can then launch into making community gardens or a system of community fridges and harrassing legislators calling your local representatives to back initiatives that will help. I think asking yourself 'what can I do about abcxyz', learning about it, and then doing what you can is definitely a good place to start. And maybe what you learn will lead you to going to things like protests and doing rebellious actions--in which case that's fantastic! The world needs a lot more people who are a lot braver than the woman behind this Tumblr curtain. Or maybe it won't--and that's okay too. We can do what we can together.

Will you change the entire world? Make the whole world better? Probably not, and I probably won't either. I don't think one person alone can change the world. But we can improve the worlds of a few creatures in a local area, or make the world better for people in our communities. And I think that's at least worth an effort.

If anyone else wants to chime in, by all means feel free! And if my advice sucks I'm sorry.

[gladosisstillalesbian]

have another old fic - I think this one is from 2020? chelldos, cute tenderness, maybe an omious sign of things to come <3

-

GLaDOS can’t help probing.

Like now, as Chell rolls her eyes and flinches away from her inquisitive claw as it interrogates the raw, angry skin around the gash on her forearm. It’s GLaDOS’s way of understanding something new - go in, poke around, assess the damage. Repair, if possible; like with a few quick sutures that leave Chell stinging and pouting but healed. Put contingency plans in place if not; antiseptic to ward off infection, prep treatments to minimize scarring.

If there’s one thing GLaDOS hates it’s the thought of yet another mark marring Chell’s beautiful skin. As far as she’s concerned, there are already more than enough of those.

Chell likes to joke that GLaDOS wants them to match: her all bright and gleaming, flat sterile surfaces and the composed hum of fine-tuned machinery and her bright, gleaming, sterile human. Chell likes to lean over and make rolls out of her stomach and ask GLaDOS if they make her mad. Chell likes to go exploring and get scrapes and mark up her body in ways that make GLaDOS’s wires twist with anxiety.

Chell likes to go exploring and along the way, sometimes she finds some of GLaDOS’s scrapes.

As much as Chell might like to pretend Aperture is perfect in its uniformity, she and GLaDOS both know there are places where nature had other ideas. Where knotted ivy and thick underbrush and trees in their infancy have laid claim to a room, or a test chamber, or even an entire wing of the facility; where they’ve dug their heels in and laid roots so deep and grown so tall that even GLaDOS’s most aggressive tactics can’t drive them out. Their branches itch at her sensors like the edges of a wound might; the humidity produced by the metabolic processes in their leaves worms its way into her machinery and make her ache with the searing heat of infection. They creep ever further, extending their tendrils and progeny further and further out from their strongholds with each passing year despite her best efforts to beat them back with fire and herbicide and saws.

Chell loves them.

GLaDOS accepted early on that Chell made an immediate effort to seek out her blind spots. The human need for privacy was something Chell made explicitly clear. And these miniature jungles are exactly that - GLaDOS’s cameras and microphones are either obstructed or destroyed entirely, leaving entire swathes of the facility effectively out of her control. She can’t count the amount of times Chell has come back from one of her little field trips relaxed, a little sweaty, smelling of a terrarium, tracking dirt under her shoes and with twigs in her hair.

When GLaDOS thinks about it, these organic infestations would never have gotten the chance to grow if Chell hadn’t killed her in the first place. So of course it would make sense that she liked to poke around in them - Chell was always so proud of the ways she could undo her. So she flips Aperture over and exposes its soft, green underbelly. She uses those terrifying, gentle hands to open Aperture up and look inside; she barrels headlong into the deep because it’s where she wants to be. Her way of understanding, of seeing.

Chell likes to joke that GLaDOS doesn’t like these places because they’re the one part of Aperture she can’t control. The one part she can’t remake in her image, shiny and sleek.

GLaDOS forgives her for this. The human brain is not equipped to compute numbers on the time scale at which these infections are killing her.

She doesn’t see how the vines grow, inch by inch, year by year, and like the shifting of tectonic plates they rend GLaDOS’s facility along its seams, battling back wires and machinery and bursting it from the inside like a cell does when it’s boiled by fever. Chell simply can’t comprehend these things; she can’t watch decades roll by like minutes in backlogged security footage and feel the fibrous, hungry things as they poke their way through her innards and spill blood in the form of air, of oil, of time. 

The human mind interprets these thickets of green as life; GLaDOS knows them to be death.

But still, Chell loves them.

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[uncharismatic-fauna]

Western Gull, Best(ern) Gull

The western gull (Larus occidentalis) is a common sight throughout the western coast of North America, from British Columbia in Canada to Baja California, Mexico. Within this range, it is found almost exclusively near the coast or on offshore islands, and only rarely turns up more than 160 km (100 miles) inland or far out at sea.

One of the larger gull species, L. occidentalis weighs about 0.8-1.4 kg (1.8-3.1 lbs) and measures 130 to 144 cm (51 to 57 in) from wingtip to wingtip. The markings are fairly plain; adults of both sexes sport a white head and body and grey or black wings. The bill is bright yellow, with a red spot on the lower portion. Because of their simple plumage, the western gull bears a strong resemblance to several other gull species that inhabit the same region, including the California gull and the glaucous-winged gull. In fact, the western gull has been known to hybridize extensively with the glaucous-winged gull, and in some regions the hybrid population is larger than either parent species.

Western gulls establish territories as mated pairs within a larger colony, and once a territory has been established they almost never relocate. Courtship begins in the spring, around March, and is usually complete by May. Males establish a nest in the colony, and prospective females arrive to inspect it. After a brief ritual, the male and female become paired for life. A typical clutch consists of 1-3 eggs, which are incubated by both parents until they hatch about a month after laying. Chicks remain at the nest for an additional 10 weeks, but mortality for young western gulls is extremely high and only 1 in 3 typically make it to independence. Adults may live to be anywhere between 15 and 25 years old in the wild.

L. occidentalis is perhaps best known for its large and voracious appetite. While strictly carnivorous in the wild, individuals will consume a variety of unappetising foods including plastic, decaying plant material, garbage, and food scraps offered by humans. In their natural habitat, the western gull feeds on fish, marine invertebrates like crabs and snails, and terrestrial invertebrates such as earthworms, beetles, and carrion. This species is also known for stealing from other animals, and groups often establish themselves near other shorebird colonies in order to poach their meals. Adults themselves are seldom predated upon by other animals, but chicks may become food for predators like foxes and coyotes.

Conservation status: Based on their large and stable population, the IUCN has determined the western gull to be of Least Concern. The most common threats to this species are contamination from pesticides and herbicides, habitat loss, and consumption of inorganic materials like plastics.

If you like what I do, consider leaving a tip or buying me a kofi!

Photos

John C. Avise

Mick Thompson

[quitealotofsodapop]

Bug eating part 2:

All referencing this previous bug-eating post.

First time Wukong picked a stray bug off a wall/tree and ate it in front of the gang, Pigsy nearly had a coniption. Not just because gross, but also he saw it as commentary on his cooking.

Pigsy: "I HAVE NOODLES RIGHT HERE!"

Wukong: "Your noodles don't have grasshoppers in 'em. We all have our culinary strengths."

Wukong had to deal with similar grossed-out reactions from the Pilgrims (or mournful from Ao Lie - guy ate horses but cried over bugs) and Celestials back in the day, so he's used to it. More for him then!

The two monkeys keep mentioning weird bug-eating facts around the gang; Wukong out of casualness/trying to encourage MK, Macaque to torment MK and Pigsy.

Tang, at the bug-house of a zoo: "Oh! These guys are cool! They build their own little mega-city using a natural herbicide!" Wukong: "Yeah! These guys are delicious!" MK & PIgsy: *glare of disappointment* Wukong: "What? They're literally called Lemon Ants for how they taste! Man, I should't have come here on an empty stomach..." Macaque: *loudly eating a bag of dried locusts* "Thats why we skipped the butterfly room." *tosses a locust at Wukong like a piece of popcorn*

At the start of the main series, Wukong is trying his best to subdue any instincts around MK to make him feel comfortable, and to not get attached. But within minutes Wukong is picking through MK's hair and giving him worldly advice - total monkey parent behavior. In the Slow Boiled au, Wukong more likely drags MK's head down instead of climbing on him.

He does manage to get MK to at least try out "sausage-shaped" bugs like Witchetty and Sago grubs that are extremely clean and easy to cook. Wukong is fine eating most bugs raw, but he understands that MK is a little ick'ed out by the thought, so he goes out of his way to find recipes to help his heir tackle the occassional craving.

Note: one of the monkeys has eaten a bee/wasp before on accident and the result was hilarious. Mei has pictures.

[dollsahoy]

I have finally started trying to get rid of the aggressively invasive porcelain berry vines infesting the trees behind the house (and also infesting the privet and bush honeysuckle back there, but that's a different battle)

It has been very satisfying to pull down the vines I could reach, but I know the best way to deal with porcelain berry is to cut the vines at ground level and let what's in the trees die and drop out naturally. Now, since the first round of cutting vines over the weekend, I'm trying not to point and laugh maniacally when I go out and see all the porcelain berry leaves that are starting to wilt from the vines I have already managed to sever.

Some of the vines are very huge and I am not good with the bow saw (and I don't trust the inherited electric chainsaw), so I'm cutting through those in turn, a bit at a time...and also getting beyond my dislike of herbicides and spraying the cut areas with plant poison, which should be being carried down to the roots to kill what's underground, too.

I'm really looking forward to seeing the trees back there no longer covered with so many porcelain berry vines that you can't really make out where one tree ends and the next begins

(but I am limited by temperatures regarding when I can do the work, because I am also wearing full coverage to ward off the invertebrates that would like to snack on me)

[risestarkiss]

Hey, so I was thinking about your post about the Timeline Paradox Photo from the movie, and I've been turning it over in my head for a few days (I love timeline nonsense, I've spent hours on LoZ timeline theory, this is my bread and butter) and anyhow I think I figured it out actually.

So, to start, we're dealing with two timelines--the main movie timeline, and the bad future timeline, with the photo originating in the bad future timeline. First, we need to know when does the movie timeline diverge from the bad future timeline, and that would be as soon as Casey emerges from the time portal. Obviously in the bad future timeline Casey didn't exist at the time the Kraang invaded bc he wasn't born yet, so the whole "butterfly effect" thing was immediately in effect as soon as he popped out of the portal and therefore the movie timeline split off from the bad future timeline as soon as Casey shows up. This means there's a window of time from when Casey came out of the portal to when the Kraang were released from the prison dimension (or possibly later to when they summoned their main ship from the top of the tall building) for the photo to have logically been taken (since obviously no one's going to be taking wholesome family photos while the apocalypse is unfolding).

So then, let's look at the events as we know them for fact from the movie timeline. Before Casey finds April, a few things happen. First, the turtles fail to retrieve the key, but since they don't realize how important it is, they just head back to the Lair to chill for a bit. Second, April steals the vials of herbicide (er, whatever the blue goopy stuff was) from her college, and then encounters Casey. And then the rest of the movie unfolds the way it does bc Casey warns them about, y'know, the impending alien invasion and general doom of the world. Which means the team crashes the summoning party before the Kraang are able to pull out their weapons (possibly their exoskeletons? I'm thinking it's got to be the exoskeletons they were gonna try and nab, and not the main warship). Anyhow, this sets off the domino chain to lead to, well, all the other movie events.

Now, what happened then in the bad future timeline? With no Casey at that specific moment in time? My best guess is: the turtles fail to retrieve the key and head back to the Lair. April steals the herbicide from her college and then what? She's got a dangerous substance that she doesn't know a lot about, so it's possible she also heads to the Lair to have Donnie analyze it for her. And hey, she pulled off a cool ninja mission on her own and is making progress on her road to being an investigative reporter, that's something to celebrate and maybe even commemorate, so someone pulls out a camera and they all take The Group Photo (as to who's holding the camera, I mean, Donnie's got all sorts of tech that I'm sure could accommodate taking a picture of the group). Meanwhile, the Foot Clan frees the Kraang, and the Kraang are able to get their exoskeletons (again, this is a guess, but they seem much more powerful and protected w/ the exoskeletons, so), and no one is the wiser bc there was no tip off. The Kraang then make their way to the highest point in the city (big tall building who's name escapes me, sorry) and summon their main warship, which sets the apocalypse in motion. Given the lapse of time the turtles and April aren't able to react quickly enough to do anything to really stop the Kraang (and even if they could, the Kraang already have All Their Weapons)--intead, they manage to save enough survivors and go into hiding, allowing for Casey to be born and for the bad future timeline to unfold until it reaches what we get to see at the start of the movie.

So, that's my best theory for when the photo was taken and how it's not actually a true paradox or inconsistency. Actually, it could even double (or triple) as a really poetic bit of narrative writing, since future-Leo draws the image of the key that will release the Kraang on the back of the photo, the photo is an image of the people who are key to stopping the Kraang, and if the photo was taken/created on the day that everything started, then it might be a sort of temporal key to help Mikey's mystic powers guide Casey backwards in time to the exact day the photo was originally taken so that he could try and change the future.

Sorry for the really long anon ask, I'm super new to tmnt and am still getting a feel for things, so I was a bit too shy to just write this all out in a reblog of your original post. But I love your blog, thanks for writing all these fun analyses!

I’ve been thinking this over as well + having some great discussions on the original post. 😁 I completely agree with the divergence of the timelines happening once Casey comes out of the portal, and I do think that the happy family photo would have been interrupted by Casey’s appearance. But yeah, your explanation makes complete sense.

The twist on the key on the photo is such an interesting take!   Thanks so much for the insight and welcome to the fandom 😊! Aww, it’s my pleasure. I love these silly little guys 😄💜

[dhanukaagritech]

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[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

“The Mighty Red,” the title of Louise Erdrich’s rambunctious new novel, definitely refers to North Dakota’s Red River, around which much of it is set, and probably refers to a large, red-headed character named Hugo.

A central event in “Mighty Red” is the marriage of a young woman named Kismet, but will she end up with brash Gary or gentle Hugo? Most of the characters have something to say about that, including Kismet’s mom Crystal, a truck driver who hauls sugar beets and whom Erdrich— a Pulitzer Prize winner for “The Night Watchman,” National Book Award winner for “The Round House” and owner of Birchbark Books in Minneapolis — says is something of a stand-in for her.

Erdrich, a member of the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa who lives in Minneapolis, has written 20 books.

Q: What came first when you were dreaming up “The Mighty Red”?

A: The first character I really thought about was Hugo. He goes back about 10 years and just kept plodding back into my notebooks with his obsessions about geology and energy and with his hapless ardor. I guess a lot of this book is about hapless ardor. Here we are, wired to mate, yet relationships are so ridiculous and awkward and, if you are lucky, magical.

The goal in my books is never to get two people together and leave them marooned, but to explore the tension and idiocy in a relationship. I mean, love. When love gets to a critical madness, people get married to reduce the madness to manageable increments of madness — like who keeps track of the vacuum cleaner attachments? Who deals with the mice? Who mislabeled the electrical box? Forget nosegays and frothed milk. Dawn dish soap becomes the thing you can’t live without. Like Kismet, you may end up making three-egg breakfasts for your husband’s family and eating your own breakfast out in the garage.

Q: Like “ The Sentence,” “The Mighty Red” is set in the recent past. Lots of “Sentence” readers were struck by your ability to evoke pandemic-era behaviors (like sanitizing the mail) that we engaged in, quit and then promptly forgot. Is it tricky to capture a past that most readers lived through?

A: You’re right. We forget the details of what we live through. This book is set in 2008-2009. The first hint I had of the mortgage crisis was running into someone I knew who was shaking and distraught over losing the house into which she’d sunk all she owned. It was devastating and it was happening everywhere.

Something like this happens to my somewhat alter-ego Crystal. There are other books about why and how this huge con game exploded, but I wanted to write about the way 2008-09 affected a few families. I thought about this a lot, how close we came to a serious economic depression, and how bad it was anyway. Part of my research was listening to the archived late night call-in shows with Art Bell, “Coast to Coast.”

Q: Which Crystal listens to, as well. Any more research?

A: Then I really lost my mind diving into how Roundup Ready seeds were developed, also at that time. I couldn’t think about anything but herbicides and pesticides. I became a known conversation killer. A lot of farming is degenerative as opposed to regenerative, and obviously that’s got to stop. Most of the farmers I know are doing their best to use few chemicals and do right by their land. They are some of the smartest people I know.

But they are running businesses. Sugar is a dirty business. However, sugar is delicious. At the end result of all those herbicides and petrochemicals and semi trucks and processing is pure, white, sparkly, granulated sugar. It is integral to our food chain now, it hits the pleasure centers in your brain like rocket fuel, and even having written this book I still love cake and ice cream.

Q: Many novels address climate crisis but I can’t recall one that makes it as easy to relate to as, for instance, the passage about the effort that goes into re-establishing prairie. Is it important to you to personalize for readers what we’ve done to our planet?

A: I wanted people to read this book, so to keep things cheerful I only sprinkled the dire stuff into the trauma of a wedding. You know — Absurd Proposal, Strange Vows, Violent Wedding Dinner, Questionable Marriage, Aftermarriage. Maybe the real bond is with the land and sky. The book is also a love letter to the Red River Valley, where I grew up. The valley along the river has changed drastically during my life and I wanted to know why. I wasn’t looking for simple answers or heroes and villains (except Hugo, hero). Nothing lines up that way.

Q: The title character of the book, or at least one of them, is a river, which you describe as “everything.” Can you talk about how living in a river valley shapes these people?

A: Are you asking whether there is a character trait that people who live along and depend on a river share? Or a lake? I don’t know — maybe love of walleye? Certain members of my family and I have been conducting a longitudinal study of who — aside from my brother Ralph — makes the best fried walleye in the Upper Midwest. We have a long way to go, but so far the Creekside Supper Club (Red Lake walleye) comes closest to the sine qua non of walleye (without which life is meaningless) on a good night at the Sky Dancer Casino (Lake Winnipeg walleye) in the Turtle Mountains. If people want to write to the Minnesota Star [Tribune] with the results of their own studies, that would be great. Just don’t contact me about this. I can’t let any extraneous information spoil the parameters of my own investigation.

Q: I can’t wait to see that striking cover in stores. I know it’s designed by your daughter, Aza Abe, who has done many of your covers. How important are covers to you, as both a writer and bookseller?

A: Covers tell the bookseller and the reader how much a publisher cares about the book. (An author usually doesn’t get much say.) I love how covers can be art that wasn’t created for the book and yet be all about the book. When I am bowled over by a new novel in manuscript, and then the final cover isn’t good enough for the book, I’m so upset.

I’m beyond lucky to have my daughter Aza Abe, a remarkable woman and tremendous artist, as the cover artist. I’m so grateful that she and I were able to start working together. Every one of her covers is stellar and says something about the book that can only be said visually. A reader should turn back and forth from the text to the cover and always find something to think about. That always happens with her images.

Take this particular cover. Aza’s image is about the origin of the Red River, where three rivers come together and flow north. The river is white because it’s sugar. The earth is deep black with gold flecks because good soil is the earth’s wealth. The letters are strong and bold because that’s the river, too.

Q: You never seem to judge your characters. Has that always been crucial to your work? Do you have other “rules” for writing?

A: A lot of being a writer is getting out of your own way. I try to simply report on what the characters are doing and thinking. If I make a judgment, it is in the voice of a character reflecting on what they’ve done. It’s not that I’m so high-minded, it’s more that it’s intrusive for a writer to make a judgment. And the reader is bound to wonder why, if you, the writer, have such a poor opinion about your character, why not just redeem them? I am opposed to redemption in a book. Maybe that’s a rule, but I break that rule if it needs breaking.

Q: What surprised you most in writing this novel?

A: The arrogant wealthy jock, Gary, surprised me. What a jackass. But then as I wrote him, I began to discover how vulnerable he was, how ridiculous, how haunted. He became my favorite character to write.

Q: Gary — and much of “The Mighty Red” itself — is really funny. Readers are going to get a bang out of these people (one line I’m thinking of is, “She loved Hugo with that superb kind of love a mother has for a male child, a love that is deeper and more pure for knowing that he’ll more than likely turn out a fool.”). Obviously, writing a novel is hard work, but was it fun to hang with these characters?

A: Yes, most days I’m lying on the floor, just wiped out, but it’s worth it on the days I’m laughing my head off.

Q:“The Mighty Red” is tough but hopeful. Do you find your way toward hope in the act of storytelling or is it in you already and that’s what pulls the story toward hope?

A: I don’t see the point of writing a book that doesn’t hold out hope. Things are getting so dire that, no matter how annoying and crazy-making we all are, we have to pull together. We need to work on a livable world. Nihilism just strikes me as lazy, and pretentious. Anyway, it’s the serious people who are leading with hope in these times.

Q: I don’t want to spoil it for readers but that last paragraph is such a knockout. What was the hardest part of “The Mighty Red” to get right? Or the easiest?

A: Chris, I’m so glad you liked the end! It was the one and only page in this whole book that was easy to write. I just wrote it down and didn’t change a word. And then I cried.

©2024 The Minnesota Star Tribune. Visit at startribune.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.

[rederiswrites]

If you're wondering what we ARE going to do about all that poison ivy, and the general absolute shittiness of our fields, and for that matter what the fuck two people with no farming background and like...more than full-time work already are going to do with like sixteen acres of field anyway....we don't know.

Don't get me wrong, we have a lot of ideas. Most of which we either can't currently afford or for some other reason can't achieve. But some of which are lovely.

Rotational grazing, especially the high-density, frequently moved version sometimes known as "mob grazing", would eventually fix a lot of what's wrong with those fields. But not without way more animals than we have or even intend to have. We don't even have a "mob" TO graze. The sheep will eat some poison ivy, though it's not their favorite. They'll eat the leaves off the brambles, which is a pretty effective way to deplete the plant's stores and stunt it. They won't eat the Virginia Creeper.

But in a way, it doesn't matter, because we've spent nearly the entire last year moving the ewes through the smaller of the two fields, and they're only just getting back to where they started. In order to make a serious impact, they'd need to be grazing the same spot maybe every two months, depending on weather conditions. Not once a year. As I showed in a previous video, everywhere they go, they do visibly leave nitrogen, and we can actually see a slight improvement everywhere they've passed through. But it's not fast. And getting and caring for the...I don't know, fifty or so? sheep that would speed the process would make moving and caring for those sheep a full-time job neither of us has the capacity for. It's just not even an intention of ours. We've never really discussed a "cap", but I'd say that a "someday when we have real fencing and I'm healthy" number of sheep would still be twenty or thirty at the most.

The conventional, and arguable still best, way to fix the big field and its extreme fuckery would be to till and reseed. It would, believe it or not, still not eliminate all of the problem weeds, especially not the Virginia Creeper and Canada Thistle (which loves to grow back from root fragments and is resistant to normal herbicides). But it would be a huge start. We'd seed with a pasture mix that's full of plants that can handle being grazed down, and then mow where the sheep don't get to. I don't even know what it would cost to hire out all that work or rent the tools, but it's more than we have. It's like asking what it would cost to replace the siding on your house. I don't know, but I know I aint got it.

So for now, Jacob is spending a lot of hours just mowing. Mowing doesn't do as much as grazing, notably it doesn't leave nitrogen, but it does ensure that light is hitting the soil so that seeds there can sprout, and it does give the advantage to plants adapted for grazing (mainly grasses).

Eventually, the plan is to reforest several acres of the big field, using government programs. That also comes with the need to control understory growth for years until the trees mature enough to shade things out, but actually, help with that is part of some of the programs. They typically plant with a mix of natives--oak, tulip poplar, redbud...the mix varies based on what the contracted companies grew that year, apparently, but it's not really something you get to pick and choose. They come, they calculate their grid, they plant. But I don't think anything's to stop you coming through afterwards and planting your own selections in spots where saplings inevitably die. Pawpaw, white oak, American persimmon, hybrid chestnut... I dream of a day where we have maybe ten acres of forest, where I can harvest mushrooms and chestnuts, paw paws and berries and ginseng. Where the boy can bag us a wild turkey for holiday dinner or supplement the freezer with deer that got fat on fall acorns.

In my wildest fantasies (and, to be fair, what I have now was once my wildest fantasies!), the "small" field is an intercropped quilt of coppiced willow and locust, berry bushes, broad stripes of sorghum, amaranth, corn, and wheat for people and animals, strips of wildflower meadow to make corridors for animals and beneficial insects, and large patches of medicinal herbs and dye plants. The "north" field, the one that is so especially troubled now, is part forest, part pasture, with permanent perimeter fences, a loose scattering of trees that provide shade and fodder, and sheep being guided through the larger perimeter with portable electric mesh fencing.

So that's what we (very sarcastically) refer to as the "five year plan" here. But I'm trying to learn not to hamstring us with doubt and disbelief, so....that's the plan.

[rjzimmerman]

Wheat on repeat (Anthropocene Magazine)

Excerpt from this story from Anthropocene Magazine:

Disguised within an ordinary-looking bowl of pasta before me is a brand new ingredient, 20-years in the making, that many believe could single-handedly slash emissions, store carbon in the soil, and help the wider environment.

The neat fusilli coils contain flour ground from Kernza, a perennial wheat-like crop that produces multiple harvests from one plant, year after year after year. I received some cooking instructions to get the best out of the novel ingredient: “Don’t cover it up with a bunch of sauce! Make sure you can taste it,” says Lee DeHaan, a scientist at The Land Institute, a non-profit agriculture research organization based in Salina, Kansas, that developed the Kernza grain. I follow his guidance, drizzling in a little olive oil and a pinch of salt, and then take a bite, letting the pasta’s flavors emerge: a subtle but unmistakable hint of cinnamon, followed by nutmeg. It’s unexpectedly warm and earthy, like a salute to the rich Kansas soils that Kernza first sprouted from.

The way this crop was raised there was very different to its cousin, conventional wheat. Wheat is an annual crop, like rice and corn, which together account for almost half of the calories humanity consumes. Annuals must be planted and harvested anew each year, a system that requires farmers to heap fertilizers and herbicides onto the land, dispersed by gas-guzzling machinery that bloats agriculture’s carbon footprint. Meanwhile, repeated cycles of tilling and replanting strips the soil of nutrients, and loses vital topsoil to wind and rain. Over time, those soils may degrade, pushing farmers onto new land in search of fertile ground. 

Each mouthful of this Kernza-rich pasta, on the other hand, supports farming that locks topsoil in place and stores carbon in the earth. A growing movement of researchers, farmers, and producers believe that perennial crops have unmatched potential to reform agriculture’s warped system, and are pinning their hopes—and research dollars—on the likes of Kernza to deliver that. The grain is now cultivated across 4,000 acres of land, by over 100 farmers across the US Midwest and as far afield as Sweden and France. Its distinct aromas have made their way into craft beers, cereals, crackers, and whiskey, and have been embraced by major brands such as Patagonia. 

As a potential substitute for wheat, which covers more global land area than any other commercial crop, Kernza seems to herald a wholesome, low-carbon revolution in the vast agricultural sector. And yet 15 years since the first stands took root, the crop has only managed to capture a tiny fraction of the market, a victim of limited yields, government regulation, and a conservative farming industry. So can Kernza ever displace traditional amber waves of grain, or is it doomed to be a perennial runner-up? 

[ashen-crest]

badly described wip poll!

Tagging in turn with zero pressure: @pheita, @pertinax--loculos, @oh-no-another-idea!