City Rabbits, Not Just for Kids

(Part one of a three part piece on urban farm animals

Originally published in the Juneau Empire, Neighbors section, April 2011)

When I was three, we had a rabbit. At the hutch in our Anchorage home’s side yard, I would peer at our amazingly soft bunny. Your hands never forget the feel of rabbit fur. That winter, though, poor Thumper died. My parents were concerned for me and planned “The Death Speech,” including phrases like “part of life” and “nature’s cycles.” They prepared for the tears, the questioning of fairness in the universe. But instead I asked, “Well, can’t we eat him now?”

Ah, yes. Ever the practical pet owner. I love my pets, especially my dear geriatric Blue Healer, Katie. The sorrow I’ll feel when she passes will be deep and heart-felt. But she’s lived a life without doggy spas, fancy jackets, or homemade food. And since our move to a yardless downtown Juneau home, she’s had a more urban lifestyle than a dog of Dingo descent should have.

So pet talk in our practical family has veered away from cats (can’t afford the Benadryl) a new dog (I refuse to run) and rodents (been there, done that, they’re still in the freezer, eek!). But the feeling persists that we need a pet. A family without animals just isn’t complete, though the traditional selections are no longer quite right either.

And this discussion is occurring across the nation. For some people “pet” now includes a live animal worn like a broach. But my biggest fashion decision is which boots to wear (ankle or knee, brown or black, and really, they ought to coordinate with the weather!), so I can’t quite see a matching tea cup dog. For other folks, though, “pet” now includes those fed and cared for so that they will feed and care for you back.  The traditional term? Farm animals. Ahhh, now with these folks my practical soul finds a kindred movement.

Here in Juneau, the urban farm movement is building momentum. People from the Federal Flats to North Douglas have chickens on the brain and want rabbit poop on the garden. Others are considering miniature goats and cows for milk and sheep for fiber. Over the next three weeks, I’ll look at these new urban neighbors and what folks need to know about them. I’ll start here with the cuddliest and most common, the rabbit. Next week I’ll talk about backyard poultry flocks, then spend the final week looking at animals that require a bigger commitment (and yard): cows, goats, sheep, and maybe even pigs. My focus is on the neighborhood home, with an assumption that space, zoning, and neighbors are bigger considerations than farm subsidies and return on investment.

Now, to finish my story, we didn’t eat Thumper. In fact I’ve never eaten rabbit, though they’re considered excellent by many. In the US, it’s rare that a city family would raise food rabbits – we tend not to eat our pets. But rabbits offer something to the Urban Homestead that no other pet can: instant fertilizer. In addition to this, someone practicing Extreme Urban Homesteading could get a few Angora rabbits, collect the fur and either spin and knit with it, or sell the fur to someone else with those skills. So, if you’re interested in fertilizer or fur, and might like a quiet, clean, and cuddly home companion, here’s how you can get started.

Step one: Never buy a bunny for Easter! Take the time to be sure a rabbit (or two – they’re happier and healthier with friends) is right for your family. Just like cats and dogs, different breeds of rabbit have different characteristics and personalities, and these should match with yours. In general, though, rabbits are shy of predators and, face it, we’re predators. You’ll need to be patient and restrained to change their minds on this. Rabbits prefer to be handled and picked up on their own terms, not grabbed unexpectedly (introduce rabbits to kids very carefully). Finally, rabbits are animals of very small brain. They don’t respond well to negative behavioral conditioning. With rabbits it truly is the carrot, and not the stick, that will get results.

Step two: consider your lifestyle. Rabbits need consistency in their daily feeding and interactions with people. Simple grooming is needed weekly to remove extra hair (and reduce hair balls), but this can mostly be done by petting and handling your rabbit – a lovely pastime. Their nails need to be trimmed monthly. It’s possible to house-train rabbits, making cleaning easier, but litter boxes and the hutch will need to be cleaned at least weekly. Importantly, if you travel, someone else must continue this care every day.

Step three: research breeds. You can find helpful info on the internet, and in books, but if you’re interested in poultry or rabbits in Juneau, all roads lead to Swampy Acres. Or rather,

Glacier Highway

leads there. I’ll write more about this local resource in the article on poultry, but if it’s rabbits you want, ask for Laura. Granddaughter of JoAnn Sidney, owner of Swampy Acres, Laura is a local rabbit expert. An active member of 4-H, Laura raises four breeds of rabbit, each with different characteristics. The 10-13 pound Satins are recommended for meat and/or garden fertilizing (as Laura says, “Rabbit poop is amazing!”), while the 2-4 pound Polish and Mini Rex make good pets (still with amazing poop, just not as much). The 3-4 pound Hollands are good for showing or keeping as pets (and poop!). Laura can tell you all about their personalities and quirks, and will even show you her newest batch of babies. Don’t bring your children, though, or they’ll abandon you for Laura and her bunnies!

Step four: complete all preparations to keep your new bunnies happy and healthy in your home:

1. Buy a hutch. Outdoor hutches used to be the standard, but it’s now more common to house a rabbit indoors. An indoor hutch is a simpler affair than the old outdoor ones: a wire cage with a removable droppings pan. It should be large enough that the rabbit can stretch out, hop a bit, and sit up without its ears touching the top. A cage that’s six times the rabbit’s length is good. It should be located in a quiet, warm, draft free location away from direct sunlight, doors, or heat sources.
2. Rabbit-proof your home. Raise all electrical cords or protect them in PVC tubing or spiral cable wrap. Remove or raise as many tempting wood items out of rabbit reach. Wrap wooden legs in plastic or limit the rabbit’s access to those areas with gates. Raise all houseplants off the floor. Keep chewable items off the floor and offer acceptable chewing alternatives.
3. Other needs include: food bowls, a water bottle, grooming tools, hay, litter boxes, bedding, chew sticks, toys, and a travel carrier.

Step five: bring your rabbits home and slowly introduce them to their new environment. If they’re not house trained, start the process, to make “fertilizer” collection easier (and the house cleaner!). Rabbit poop is considered a “cold” manure, requiring no “hot” composting process to kill pathogens. Because of this, some gardeners apply it directly to the garden as needed. Others recommend it as a soil amendment, tilling it into the soil at the beginning and end of the growing season to build up soil nutrients. Those who are generally uncomfortable adding any poop to a garden recommend composting it, just to be sure.

But I figure, what a bonus! To have a house rabbit or two, adding that great pet energy (and responsibility) to my kids’ lives, while building up my woefully depleted urban soil at the same time? Not a bad idea – but I wonder if there’s a tea cup variety that will match my X-tra Tufs.

Resources:

UAF Cooperative Extension, Juneau office, 796-6221, www.uaf.edu/ces/

Swampy Acres, 789-7253,

10400 Glacier Hwy

Wee Fishie Shoppe, 789-0728,

8757 Glacier Hwy

Sarah Lewis is a local Architect and member of the Juneau Commission on Sustainability. She hates to think of losing her Blue Healer, but plans to buy a few rabbits once the “family pet” position is sadly available.

A Haiku Homestead Almanac

[Originally published in the Juneau Empire, L'Attitude, March 2011]

Poets fill me with wonder. How does a person, a simple human, take pieces of mundane life and experience, or everyday views from a window, and re-order them into the sublime, the witty, or the soul-wrenching truth? Poetry is not for the lazy, I tell you.

I’m reminded of this by every edition of L’attitude, when I discover that my neighbors, childhood friends, and acquaintances are actually poets. In fact I’ve started to get a bit self-conscious about my prosaic contribution to this little local gem. Bread, toothpaste and plastic bags – what are these when compared to heartbeats, celestial voices, and birdsong? Pretty meager, really.

But must they always be? One person’s loaf of bread may be another person’s masterpiece, right? Dorothy Parker took the politics of relationships and turned them into cutting wit (Men seldom make passes / At girls who wear glasses.). Elizabeth Barrett Browning turned politics and social injustice into bouquets of words (Forgive me. Some women bear children in strength, / And bite back the cry of their pain in self-scorn; / But the birth-pangs of nations will wring us at length / Into wail such as this — and we sit on forlorn / When the man-child is born.) And from her secluded room, Emily Dickenson made clear, sharp observations of the world (“Faith” is a fine invention / For Gentlemen who see! / But Microscopes are prudent / In an Emergency!).

So what’s a girl to do who loves lists, schedules, and plans, but also wants more poetry in her life? Well, maybe one person’s calendar can be another person’s form of self-expression. Being relatively new to gardening, hunting, and stay-at-homesteading in general, I’ve labored to put together my own “almanac,” to remember what I need to do each month. I’ve been diving into books and gathering internet resources to sort it all out. But maybe I should step back a moment, and look at it anew. Instead of trying to capture hours, I can try to capture how those hours feel. Oh, I don’t know how to explain it… I’m not a poet for goodness’ sake! But here’s my

Main Street

(Haiku) Homestead Almanac, for your reading pleasure (or at least for your reading).

January

Plan and repurpose.

Hands make warm afghan, with love,

Then open a book

February

Vegetable seeds,

Listed with hope of spring warmth.

The pantry echoes.

March

Tomato seeds wake.

Wood and glass shelter covey

Of quail, dream of eggs.

April

Cole, leaf, squash, onion

Unfold, prepare for life outside,

But lose friends to salad

May

Mother’s day scolds frost.

Dark soil made ready for new life,

Coil of worm bodes well.

June

Crab in dungeon deep,

Shrimp below flashing sockeye.

Wind in sails brings lunch.

July

Family, friends, summer camps,

Bonfire on rocks, driftwood blaze.

Winter is so far away.

August

Gun and pack ready.

Berries fall, deer leap and run,

But mushrooms sit still.

September

Chill air, like homebrew

Tastes bittersweet with last fruit.

Bulbs promise the spring

October

Clean spade winks at soil

Reclining under blankets.

Stacked wood laughs at cold.

November

Wood pops and glows red,

Like the yarn of winter gifts

And cranberry bite.

December

Spin down like snowflakes

On snow angels, celebrate

A good year’s ending.

Sarah Lewis is a local architect and student of sustainability, who hopes the serious and talented poets of Juneau will eventually forgive her. But she really enjoyed her attempts at haiku!

Life on Capitol Hill

First published February 2011 in the Juneau Empire, Neighbors section

The women of Capitol Hill are a rowdy bunch. Once a month we meet for lunch at a downtown café to swap Capitol Hill neighborhood news. Who’s traveling, moving, having a baby, or retiring, who’s foundation’s leaking, and what’s up with the parking situation. Important, weighty stuff. The café management often asks us to quiet down as we sip our tea. OK, maybe we’d like them to, so we could seem a bit edgier. There’s something old-fashioned about meeting with neighbor ladies to exchange neighborhood news. But it’s also very timely; a foil against too many hours spent with computers – and deeply pleasant.

And the Capitol Hill neighborhood is a pleasant place to live – even though you can’t find it on a map. Officially, there are three main neighborhoods directly adjacent to the downtown business district. Juneau Townsite is the largest neighborhood, wrapping the sides of the half-bowl in which the downtown sits. The Chicken Ridge neighborhood perches on the western, top edge of this bowl, wrapping around to

Basin Road

. The House of Wickersham is a prominent Chicken Ridge feature. The Starr Hill neighborhood is at the top of the eastern edge of the bowl, resting against Mts. Maria and Roberts. The Mt. Roberts trail starts from the top of Starr Hill.

Because of crazy downtown topography, it’s easy for micro-neighborhoods to develop, regardless of where the map lines are drawn. The Capitol Hill neighborhood is technically in the Juneau Townsite, and includes a bit of Chicken Ridge, but is defined by its most prominent neighbor: the Capitol Building (weird spelling tidbit: “capital-A-L” is the city, “capitol-O-L” is the building, so saying Capitol Building is actually redundant. Whatever!). Capitol Hill extends from roughly

5^th Street

up to 7^th, and from the drop off west of

Main Street

to Capital School Park. Really, it’s the hill above the Capitol. Thus the name was suggested a few years ago by a neighbor who was confounded that it hadn’t always been called that.

I love living on Capitol Hill, though I can take little credit for this good fortune. It was my parents who bought a declining house on

Main Street

back in the early 70’s, for something crazy like $20,000. My husband and I bought it from them in 2003 for a significant bit more, but still a good price because, well, it’s a house that was built during the Gold Rush and has been attempting to decline ever since.

That’s one of the hallmarks of living on Capitol Hill. With many homes built in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, if my neighborhood had its own coin, on one side would be a lovely historic home and on the other would be that same home, falling apart. Colorful Juneau history and constant renovation are a way of life on this hill. And many neighbors don’t just accept this reality, they revel in it. Like the owners of the neighborhood B&B, Alaska’s Capital Inn, Linda Wendeborn and Mark Thorson. They chose Capitol Hill for their home and business partly because it was built by one of Juneau’s founding fathers, John Olds, for his young bride, and filled with Juneau history. But also because it would give them an opportunity to get their hands calloused by making it shine again. And they are not alone. As finances and time allow, or as the old homes demand, Capitol Hill neighbors are frequently spotted at Good Hardware.

And they might even have walked there. Walking is a many-layered benefit for the downtown neighborhoods. First, there’s security in having everything you need within walking distance, especially if you have kids. (Unfortunately there are quite a few things within walking distance that we don’t need, as well. I have yet to find a need for emeralds, a fur bikini, or moose-poop swizzle sticks, and we could do with fewer bars). Second, who needs cardio boot camp at the club when you’ve got

Main Street

. Third, and most important, every time you greet a neighbor while out walking, the cohesion of the whole neighborhood is strengthened.

Because that’s really what makes a neighborhood most livable. Good neighbors. When asking residents what they like most about Capitol Hill, a consistent answer was knowing that they could rely on their neighbors; to be helpful, to be kind, for a friendly chat, to buy raffle tickets from the neighbor kids, to help shovel a sidewalk, to keep a sliding truck from hitting your car, to collect the mail and feed the animals while you’re away, to write a letter to the editor about a shared concern, and even to respect your privacy though they live only five feet away.

Another way in which Capitol Hill neighbors rely on each other is as defenders of our livability. We want most of the people in our neighborhood to live here, not lock up and head home for the night. Which is a valid concern in a neighborhood that has always been at the edge of the government and downtown commercial areas. For more than a century both of these interests have ebbed and flowed up the edge of Capitol Hill. In fact, from around 1895 until 1920, the Territorial Governor’s house and office were located on the north-west corner of 6^th and Main, a block farther up Main than the Capitol Building. (This forgotten fact was rediscovered by a neighbor intrigued by an historic photo of a large house that she should have seen from her living room, if it were still there.) Mining offices and boarding houses were historically found on Capitol Hill, as well, and these are still reflected in an engineering office, a B&B, and several in-home offices and apartments. The general consensus is that the current mix of uses makes for a comfortable, thriving neighborhood.

And part of what makes it thrive, we all know, is our namesake neighbor, the Capitol. In fact, many Capitol Hill residents look forward to the mid-winter thrum of the Legislature moving back in. The feeling is entirely different than when the surging tide of summer cruise ship passengers covers the downtown. In summer, Capitol Hill mostly observes the throngs from our cozy hill, smiling a welcome to the few hardy souls who venture up

Main Street

. During Legislative session, we’re much closer to the action. Decisions that effect the whole state, good or bad, radiate out from our neighborhood. There’s a weight to that.

And maybe that’s why we make a point, on Capitol Hill, of “celebrating our commonalities,” as one neighbor put it. We’re good neighbors to each other because we try to focus on the many ways our lives can intersect, rather than on how to more accurately divide our properties. We have garage sales, neighbor lady teas, monthly lunches, kids in our yards, no-electricity pot-lucks (well, just a couple of those during that “No-Snetisham Spring”), girl scouts selling cookies, gardeners trading tips and cuttings, and a phone tree for bear sightings. We’re not overly concerned about having

Main Street

dug up and repaved this summer, and maybe it’s because we have personal experience with the need to renovate things when they start to fall apart, and know it’s difficult, but worth the trouble.

So the women of Capitol Hill will continue to meet once a month, to catch up on the news of the neighborhood. And often comment on how we hope other Juneau neighbors are doing the same.

Many Miles to a New Year’s Resolution

(Originally published in the Juneau Empire, January 2010)

Ahhhhh. My little family flew to Alamos, Mexico for the holidays… spending a month with snow bird parents who’ve crafted a lovely winter life there. They’re a rare breed of bird nowadays – the popular American view of Mexico is a country overrun with drug lords and kidnappers. Until affordable medical or dental work is needed, then South of the Border many Americans go. Having worked with elders whose health care needs have surpassed Medicare capabilities, and are destitute without the assistance of family, I know I am muy fortuna to be the child of a Tier One parent. Many excellent years of service to the State of Alaska were rewarded with high quality health care coverage throughout retirement. So, in an ironic twist, my parents migrate backwards – traveling North of the Border to see the doctor.

Muchas gracias a los State of Alaska! It may sound selfish, luxurious, or greedy to others, but truly it’s not: both generations are fully grateful not to have the specter of parental dependence hanging over us, and my parents live pretty simply in Mexico. Because, in another ironic twist, their Tier One retirement income is not enough to afford life in Alaska full-time. Their money stretches much farther in Mexico which allows them to age with dignity, independence, and nice winter weather, leaving my little family free to plan our own future… and a South of the Border vacation every few years.

(Of course, I could now wax liberal about the forward-thinking State of Alaska, successfully keeping a valuable professional serving the public for 20 years instead of a private company… and how, as a member of the Tier Three club myself, I feel significant loyalty to an employer that used to offer a better future than the private-industry-modeled “Cliff” Four retirement plan over which public employees – and their children and grandchildren, don’t forget – are now being thrown. But, whew, I’m reminded that this is not my topic today!)

So off we went to spend a month in a marginally safe country (don’t misinterpret that! Tort-free living makes for crazy traffic, four-foot-high curbs, no guardrails, and tummy bugs galore – not drug lords, for goodness’ sake! The only crazy shooting during our vacation was in Tucson.). Mexicans are determinedly climbing into the current millennium, though, and I have to offer an ole! to lovely Sonora. The Sonoran desert offers less swimming with Dolphins and more cacti than most Alaskans choose, but 75 degrees and blue skies in January are worth the thousands of miles we flew to get there.

Imagine that… with air travel we can get from water-locked Juneau, Alaska to land-locked Alamos, Sonora in about two days. Not long ago, within my parents’ lifetimes even, this would have been impossible for anyone of moderate or lower income. Unfortunately, if Alaska Airlines ever eliminates their mileage programs (God forbid!), it will be again. In my Juneau-centric opinion it wasn’t ships, cars, the printing press, or modern communications that truly made this One World – it was affordable air travel. The ability to spread ideas, knowledge, and cultural understanding (not to mention progressive technology and health care) quickly and widely is something for which I thank the Wright brothers, every aeronautic engineer since, and decades of cheap oil.

I’ve started to think back on all of the cheap oil I’ve used for far lesser purposes than global understanding. The greenhouse gasses I’ve spewed into the atmosphere for no benefit, when weighed against world-wide connection. Innumerable car trips of less than a mile; uncountable goods and groceries (traveling thousands of miles to reach me) that I neither needed nor enjoyed, and could have found locally or made myself; legions of plastic bits thrown away after one use… how many of these would I have traded to keep air travel easy and inexpensive for everyone.

I’m rarely given to guilt, but I can’t deny the connection between my unthinking use of oil and the current state of air travel. How many of us in Juneau, if given the opportunity some decades ago, would have traded all of those quick car trips to Food Land (for Ben & Jerry’s) and the Nugget Mall (for a 10^th pair of shoes) for this: getting to the airport 30 minutes before flight time, staying clothed through security, carrying reading material and a soda on board (not your whole travel wardrobe), having a decent, hot, in-flight meal (included), and stepping off the plane to the glowing face of an awaiting loved one, not into a mall-full of strangers, fast food and Crocs stores that make you feel vaguely lost and lonely. And I’m not even going to comment on the ability of the airlines to offer their services in the world of dwindling oil, or the everyday person’s ability to afford it.

I would even put up with the oddity of the old Alaska Airlines pre-meal prayer card if it meant that the constant sound of flip-flops could have stayed a perk of traveling to Hawaii. Ah, to wear shoelaces again when flying. But it’s too late, I’m afraid. We’ve made our reclining seat and have to sit six inches behind one, too.

But still… I can’t give up. As usual, I need a scheme, a plan, a new paradigm! So, what if we did make this trade – starting to ration oil as we should have done decades ago? In a standard year, I put 3-4,000 miles on my car, for example – even though I live within walking distance of every amenity I need and could easily reduce my driving to 30 miles a week (1500 mi/year). And in an average year I travel out of Juneau at least twice – say an annual average of 4000 miles. That’s 5,500 miles total by car and air each year.

So I think I’ll try this: each person in my family will start the year with a 5,000 mile travel credit. Every mile traveled by car or airplane will use 1 credit. Every mile traveled by foot, bike, scooter, carpool, city or school bus, sailboat, or ferry is “free.” Every mile traveled over 5,000 (and as many under 5,000 as we can afford) must be cancelled out by participation in a carbon offset program.

Oh dear. Did I just come up with my New Year’s Resolution? I’m wincing, because this one will be really hard to live up to. My poor, indulgent husband. And Dios mio! To save 2,500 miles each, maybe we should have remained in Alamos this year! No… I’ll happily make this trade-off, and many more, to keep living in beautiful Juneau, and to keep working towards my Tier Three health care benefits!

Sarah Lewis is a local architect and social worker who now feels foolish for all those years of high school French… especially when the ever kind Mexicans put up with her constant no hablar-ing and lo siento-ing. Muchas Gracias Alamos!

A Holiday Meal on Every Table

(Originally published in the Juneau Empire, December "Neighbors")

I’ve read in several places that enough food is produced on Earth to feed all its people. Yet as I write this, and as you read it, people are starving on our planet. The problem is one of distribution, it seems. Economic, political, and geographic barriers keep food from getting to places on this globe where people have none, or keep people from getting to the food. While in other places, our own city among them, people have access to more food than they need.

But even in Juneau there are people who don’t know where every meal will come from, much less holiday dinners. The distribution barriers in our community are typically economic (though politics and geography do play a role, of course… an article for another day) because Juneau is an expensive place to live and eat.

There are several organizations addressing this distribution problem in Juneau, though, and admirably. There are also many concerned and kind citizens who make it a holiday goal to distribute their plenty to those who have little. My family is among those lucky enough to have more than we need. So for us it’s a Thanksgiving and Christmas tradition to donate holiday dinners for delivery to other families who are not as lucky.

But I’m conflicted about what I put in those boxes. Over the past few years I’ve become more conscious of what I purchase, eat, and serve to my family. I now want to know how far my food traveled, how the animals were raised and fed, how the plants were grown, how the land was treated, even how well the workers were treated. In our global food distribution system, this is not easy, and I’m regularly weak (I love green bean casserole, and don’t tell me it can be made with fresh beans… pah!) but I’ve gotten better at supporting systems that have fewer or no negative impacts on the earth and its people. I pay more for this effort, but buy only what we need and no more, so our food bill has not risen significantly, while our enjoyment certainly has.

So last week, for Thanksgiving, what did I put in the food boxes I donated? Food that I no longer purchase for my own family. I know that many others did this, too, and I want to emphasize that there is nothing wrong with this at all. The boxes I packed were filled with nutrients, variety, and tradition. But they were also filled with unnecessary preservatives, sugars and fats, and supported sections of the food industry that prioritize profits over human and global health. Why is my standard for giving to others different than that for my own family? I’ve decided that for Christmas this year, I’m going to do better.

So I contacted Slow Food Southeast Alaska (contact them through slowfood.seak@gmail.com or Facebook), chaired by Elizabeth Dubovsky, to find out what they recommend I put in my December holiday boxes. International Slow Food (as opposed to “fast food,” in case that wasn’t obvious!) promotes the concept that all food should be “good, clean, and fair.” Good food, by Slow Food standards, is delicious and created with care from healthy plants and animals. Clean food is nutritious and good for our bodies, as well as good for the environment. Fair food is accessible to all and produced by people who are treated with dignity and justly compensated for their labor.

Here are 10 ways Slow Foods Southeast Alaska recommends we can make our donated food boxes “slower”:

1. Substitute “organic” whenever possible; it’s healthier for humans (producer and consumer alike) and the environment.
2. Add fresh foods like potatoes, yams, winter squash, carrots, and apples.  Fresh foods provide more flavorful nutrients than processed, prepackaged foods.
3. Include foods that are “whole” and not processed.  Whole grain rice rather than processed rice; fresh potatoes rather than instant mashed potatoes. The least processed products contain the most nutrition and fiber.
4. Donate affordable foods that are nutrient-rich. Dried beans or lentils, for example, with directions on how to prepare simple, tasty dishes with them.
5. Choose foods that come in minimal packaging. Less wasteful and you’ll often pay less for larger amounts than for individually wrapped servings. 
6. Buy foods that are from the Pacific Northwest - or better yet, from Alaska!  Keeping our dollars in our local/regional food economy is an important way of ensuring a sustainable future for our communities. Potatoes and carrots, salmon and reindeer, and berry products. All are grown, harvested, and processed in Alaska. Ask your grocery store to tell you where to find them (or ask the store to carry them!).
7. Include a homemade pie or other baked goods that don’t require refrigeration.  Check if the receiving organization can accept them (the Food Bank can’t, but the Glory Hole can and needs 200 pies by December 20!).
8. Include healthy “snacks” and finger foods like nuts, raisins, and other dried fruits.
9. If you know the box will be used quickly, you can include perishable items like butter, milk, cheese, and meat. Choose organic, free-range, and/or local whenever possible.
10. Instead of a box, donate both the ingredients and your time to cook a meal for one of the local organizations that feeds people directly, like the Glory Hole or your church.

Finally, it’s important to remember to keep it simple – the people receiving these boxes may be living in less-than-optimal situations and are probably under stress. They need easy, tasty, comfort foods to celebrate the season with. So after I’ve filled a box, and if I know it will all go to one recipient (many boxes will be unpacked and distributed to different families, as needed) Slow Food recommends that I include some good recipes.

I have a Thanksgiving ritual of looking through a book in my library called “Hungry Planet: What the World Eats,” by Peter Menzel and Faith D’Aluisio. Comparing my family’s weekly food supply with that of families in, say, Chad, I’m truly thankful to live in a country where there are minimal barriers to feeding my family healthy meals on a daily basis. But when comparing my weekly family food budget to that of a family in Turkey, where they spend only 1% on prepared foods, and their table groans with fresh fruit, vegetables and bread, I know that American over-abundance is not always the way to good eating. Let’s even out the distribution, wherever and whenever we can.

Sarah Lewis is a local architect and freelance writer. She recently pickled several quarts of Alaska-grown carrots and wishes the Food Bank could accept some because her family thinks pickles are the way to world peace.

Re-Ordering Christmas

(Originally published in the Juneau Empire, November L'attitude)

I love the early fall mists of Juneau. The low clouds with wisps, fogs and sprays. Red berries, crisp air, Taku winds, and sea foam. And, of course, catalogs. Ahhhh, the fall-colored leaves of the catalogs.

As an inclusive life-long Alaskan, I’m both indulgent of Cheechako naiveté and respectful of tall Sourdough tales. But if you remember what it was like to browse the 3-inch depth of a Sears catalog every year – to dog-ear it, mark it up, flip between sections, wistfully create alternate childhood realities with it (where I would wear summer dresses and my family actually owned a sprinkler) – then you’re my kind of Alaskan, no matter where you grew up.

Now, to date myself more accurately, my parents could no longer order an actual home through Sears in the 70’s – but, boy howdy, they could fill every room, closet, cupboard, drawer, toy box, patio, landscape, nook, and cranny if they wanted to. Sears and JC Pennies were my early teachers of Consumerism 101. And since my parents only bought what they could pay for (that’s right! Imagine a time without credit cards…) we didn’t yet consider it Over-Consumption 101. But the scene was set.

Humans like to have stuff… we’re bowerbirds beautifying our nests to impress potential mates. Magpies who can’t ignore that next bright, shiny object. And it makes some sense, evolutionarily. The more stuff you have, the more chance you can provide for a family, make it through winter, attract a partner, etc. But that drive evolved when our “stuff” included a few furs, some sharp tools, and enough sticks for a hut. Translate that into a 60” flat screen TV, $150 cross trainers, and a Cuisinart and it begins to feel funny.

At least it does if you’re among the 87% of people surveyed by PolicyInteractive.org who feel “our country would be a better place if we all consumed less.” The Center for American Progress puts this number at a lower 80%, but that’s still nothing to sneeze at. I heard these statistics presented by PolicyInteractive’s, Tom Bowerman. The importance of these numbers is that it didn’t matter if the respondents were liberal or conservative, religious or non, rich, middle class or poor. The feeling that America would be better off if we all stopped buying so much stuff transcends ideology.

Of course what people mean by “consumption,” and their reasons for reducing it, are different. One person is reducing their use of petroleum to mitigate global climate change. Another person spends less because a culture of debt weakens our economy’s foundation. And still another feels that reducing the amount of “stuff” in our lives will increase the quality of time spent with our families. I agree with all of these outlooks and see how a focus on reducing consumption can cross some otherwise deep divides.

And I love that. Who cares why we’re doing it! If there’s one solution for all these different problems, let’s just do it!

But wait. We also hear that if we stop buying, we’ll kill the American economy and eliminate desperately needed jobs. Is it a solution if it creates other problems? No. But, I’ve got to tell you, this time I’m going with my gut. If I stop buying throw-away schlock, and instead spend that money on my child’s piano lessons, insulation for my house, or locally caught salmon, I just can’t believe I’m being un-American. Living surrounded by things I don’t need is not likely creating jobs that offer a living wage. It’s more likely creating jobs in countries where no one monitors the working conditions or the health of children and families. So, for the past several years I’ve led family campaigns to be more conscious of what we buy and whether we really need it.

Fortunately for me, my parents pretty exclusively kept our buying season to Christmas – a once a year wallow in oodles of stuff. I’m grateful to not also have to break the birthday, back-to-school, got a raise, good grades, vacation, that’s pretty and would look good with those shoes, “TGIF” sprees. Reducing consumption at the holidays is where I can really make a difference in my family.

As a result, I have a new hair-brained gift plan every Christmas. From “buy nothing new” to “shop only within walking distance from home,” these plans have helped us be more conscious about what we’re buying and not give in to impulse buying, and kept us out of Christmas debt for the past several years.

These campaigns are tough love in my dependence on catalogs, but much needed. In fact, two years ago I enrolled in CatalogChoice.com and managed to get off dozens of mailing lists. Last year we only received five catalogs and they were like candy. I dog-eared, my daughter circled, my husband purloined them for enjoying with his morning coffee, my baby son got his first taste, too. Literally. But we were strong. We played for a while in the alternate reality of a wealthy family living in a world of unlimited global resources. Then happily decided to cozy in to our own reality where just enough, and no more, is plenty.

Sarah Lewis is a local architect and freelance writer who’s day of ultimate Christmas success came when her pre-teen daughter proclaimed that her favorite gift ever was a share in a Heifer International water buffalo bought by her grandmother 3 years before…  not the iTouch her sucker parents got her that year.

Be a Person, not a Consumer.

It’s no accident that in the 1950’s Americans suddenly became “consumers.” The national economy needed a boost after the war so the government and companies needed people to buy, buy, buy. So they designed “planned obsolescence” (short lived products with no means of repair) and “perceived obsolescence” (when wearing last year’s fashions marks you as a loser). These two concepts are so pervasive in our country that we’ve collectively accepted that we are consumers. Time to be a person again, in 5 easy steps:

1.      Stop watching ads on TV. You know perfectly well that this is how companies convince you to buy new stuff you don’t need. But they know us better than we do sometimes, and get to us. Especially our kids.

2.      Reduce time the TV is on. Plug it into an outlet timer that’s hard to get to. Seriously. Turn on music if you need background noise.

3.      Turn off the TV and get control of your entertainment. Get your TV series on Netflix, rent movies, only watch shows that stream online to your computer or TV monitor. Cut TV ads out of your life.

4.      Become a conscious consumer. Make a point of stopping to think before you buy. Whether you’re doing it to save money, reduce dusting, or to see your kids again.

5.      Make a plan for the holidays and stick to it. Here are some ideas:

§         Buy Nothing New: try Craigslist, Yahoo groups JuneauParents and Juneau Freecycle, the Sally Army, St. Vincent’s, Mommy and Me, and Alaska Dames & Gents.

§         Cash Only: There’s something visceral about handing over cash instead of plastic.

§         Homemade Holiday: For the diehard. Require everyone in the family to make things for each other. Food counts!

§         Handmade Holiday: For the not-so-crafty, buy things made by other hands. Try the Juneau Public Market and Homespun Mercantile in the Airport Mall. You can also try the list under “buy nothing new.” My very favorite sweater was hand-knit, and purchased at the Salvation Army.

§         One Big Gift: One for the whole family, like a trip (maybe one you were planning to take anyways? Just put a bow in it), or one for each member. Ask each person for their “top three” list (give a cost limit if needed), and buy one thing for each.

§         Gifts of Time: Cleaning, cooking, movie nights, date nights, story time, whatever might be valued in a busy household (hint, hint, SMB). Be thoughtful and creative.

Sustainable Architecture in Juneau

(Originally published in the Juneau Empire, October 2010 Neighbors Issue)

Not that long ago, “green building” in Juneau meant your siding needed replacing, or at least some serious power washing. And the historic buildings that give downtown Juneau its character were designed to meet early 20^th Century ideals like “western prosperity,” and “the home-town you left behind,” not “a smaller carbon footprint.” A few decades ago, architects, engineers, and builders would have responded to requests for “net zero energy consumption,” and “sustainable resource use” with blank stares. And the phrase “water conservation” might have elicited guffaws and referrals to the local MD.

But the world, and our rain bejeweled corner of it, are changing. Like their counterparts across the globe, architects in Southeast Alaska now have a better understanding of how buildings affect the global environment, and the affect is significant. For example, buildings currently account for 50% of energy consumption in the US. By comparison, transportation, though always in the media eye, accounts for only 25%. Sustainable, or “green,” architecture is the practice of designing to minimize, or even eliminate, the negative environmental impacts of buildings.

Green Architects

Architects understand that thoughtful design of the built environment has the power to transform people, communities and cultures. We just didn’t know how complicit we were, historically, in transforming the earth’s climate as well. Fortunately, we have the power to stop the damage and possibly reverse it.

In fact, both of these goals were discussed in depth in October at the AIA (American Institute of Architects) Alaska Chapter annual convention in Sitka and the AIA Pacific Region Chapter annual convention in Eugene, Oregon. Several architects from Juneau attended both conferences and came away with valuable information and the motivation to use it here at home.

There are two main keys to making this possible: 1) creation and educated use of green design standards and 2) requirements by building owners and financers that these standards be met in all new buildings and renovations.

Green Design Standards

There are several green design standards Juneau’s architects and engineers can follow. The US Energy Star program focuses on reducing energy use, a primary weapon against climate change. The LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) standard focuses on reducing energy use, as well, but also requires the sustainable use of other resources (water, wood, metals, etc.), and the design of non-toxic buildings that promote human health and wellbeing. The Living Building Challenge standard builds upon the LEED concept, but takes the goals to their ultimate conclusion: buildings that “harvest” all of the energy and water they require, use sustainable (preferably local) resources and materials, manage all building waste on-site, are entirely non-toxic, and do all this while inspiring the users through built and natural beauty. Whew! Sounds idealistic, but buildings are already being built in the US that meet this standard and it gets you thinking of the possibilities. Though the Green Star program offers tools for assessing the design of a building, LEED and the Living Building Challenge include third party compliance reviews and building certification.

Currently, by State and local law, Juneau’s architects must use the International Building Code (IBC) to help them design safe, healthy buildings. Published by the International Code Council (ICC), the IBC ensures the construction of structurally, mechanically, and electrically sound buildings. It also requires architectural design that promotes the safety of building users, and their ability to evacuate the building in the face of life-threatening events. In the future, possibly as soon as 2013, the IBC will include an International Green Building Code and Juneau will have the option to adopt it for all buildings built in the CBJ. It’s exciting that an essential tool for the health and safety of humans will soon also work to ensure the health of the global environment.

Savvy Building Owners

The primary owners of non-residential buildings in Alaska are its cities, school districts, and the State, as well as many private and corporate entities. The Municipality of Anchorage has followed the route of many Lower 48 cities and adopted LEED standards as a requirement for most of its new city-owned buildings and major renovations. Juneau is preparing to do the same for CBJ owned facilities.

Because architects rarely finance their own building projects, building owners also need to be committed to changing how their buildings affect the environment. The generally accepted premium paid for a green building is 3% of the construction cost. In reality, 3% is minimal compared to how much a building cost can fluctuate based on any number of design decisions made by the owner or architect, as well as factors outside of the project’s control. And many of the design features required for a green building result in savings in other areas. For example, increasing the insulation levels of the exterior walls, roof, and windows can result in a smaller heating plant. A smaller heating plant is less expensive to purchase and maintain while a better insulated building consumes less energy, saving money all around.

The use of materials with recycled content or non toxic products may be harder to recognize as having a financial benefit, though. And in Juneau there are precious few materials or products that don’t have to travel long distances to get here, requiring lots of research to find the nearest sources, which are rarely the least expensive. Building owners need to have a vision of how their facility affects more than just a bottom line to commit to some of these green building features. But the more that do, the more the market will shift to make things easier and less expensive.

Juneau’s Architects

The cost of designing green buildings is stabilizing, as well. Each of the three primary architecture firms in Juneau have made a commitment to designing greener buildings for their clients and have added green design strategies to their standard practices. Each of these firms has at least one principal architect qualified as a LEED Accredited Professional, and staff members are following suit.

These firms have all designed buildings to meet green building standards. In Juneau, these include Harborview Elementary, by MRV Architects, and Glacier Valley Elementary, by NorthWind Architects, which were both renovated to meet LEED certification requirements. In Sitka, the Baranof Island Housing Authority office building, by Jensen Yorba Lott Architects, is currently under construction and was also designed to meet LEED certification requirements. Though none of the firms have designed a building to meet the Living Building Challenge, it’s only a matter of time and awaiting a request from a forward-thinking client..

The challenges Southeast architects face when designing green buildings are many, but slowly being addressed. For example, non-standard materials and products are typically special order items. This is a problem during construction if a contractor needs more. If it’s not available from local suppliers, the construction schedule or budget can be negatively affected. Also, in general, Southeast contractors have little experience building to strict green standards and, in a competitive bidding environment, the unknown will be bid too high or too low, both of which cause problems for the contractor or the owner.

A Green-Built Future

Though strides are being made in Juneau to design and build greener buildings, these are only first steps. Most Energy Star and LEED compliant buildings use significantly less energy than traditionally designed buildings, but they are dwarfed in number by the existing building stock and new buildings being built to old standards. An energy use reduction of even 50% or more in green buildings will not adequately turn the tide of climate change. All new building projects must be fully sustainable as soon as technology and local markets allow and all existing buildings need to be renovated and retrofitted if real change is to occur.

Juneau is not alone as it steps into the coming era of sustainability. Architects and owners in cities throughout the world are taking these same steps; some tentatively, some boldly. Forward momentum is picking up and Juneau will reap the benefits of joining the movement early enough to make a difference, but late enough that strong standards and tested practices are already in place. Juneau is ready to move toward a future where its buildings are designed to a new ideal: “thriving for a few more centuries.”

More Information

LEED program: http://www.usgbc.org/

Energy Star program: http://www.energystar.gov/

Living Building Challenge: http://www.ilbi.org/

American Institute of Architects: http://www.aia.org/

Sarah Lewis, AIA, is an architect, a member of the AIA Alaska Chapter Board of Directors, and a member of the Juneau Commission on Sustainability. She formerly worked as a Project Architect for the CBJ and is currently a small business owner and freelance writer.

Liberal Women with Guns

(Originally published in the Juneau Empire, October 2010)

Good Liberal Girls don’t play with guns. In fact, Good Liberal Girls know that worship of guns is the downfall of our nation. They take Judo and self-defense classes instead of relying on an easy trigger. Good Liberal Girls know that Bad Conservative Boys want guns because they’re afraid of Good Liberal Girls! And, of course, they should be afraid; we will always defy stereotype in ways that flummox those Bad Conservative Boys.

In fact, if we want to, we can become Good Liberal Women – who play with guns.

I remember the first time I held a hand gun as a good liberal girl. I was immediately nauseated and had to give it back to my (good liberal) boyfriend. There’s too much sociopathic death forged into the barrel of a hand gun. They were designed to kill humans. I still can’t hold one, and hope I never can.

But I also remember the first time I held a hunting rifle. That time, instead of needing to sit down, I stood tall and took aim. The power. I could hike a Southeast game trail in summer, and not be the game. I could participate in the web of life, not just shop for groceries. I could feed my family from my own labors.

I was 38 when I entered the hunt. That local bastion of Good Liberal Women, KTOO, offered hunting lessons for two women during their on-air auction. Before I knew what I was doing, I bid and won. The next item for bid was a 90 minute massage… I stayed on the line to bid for that, too, to still feel like a Good Liberal Woman. A friend bid for the 2^nd offering of lessons for two women later that day.

So there were four of us, good liberal women all, holding hunting rifles in our arms for different reasons. J was a biologist in bear country who didn’t want to be a meal. S’s two young sons’ love of guns perplexed her, and she wanted to be able to share this with them. E’s new husband was an expert hunter and though she wanted to move on from carrying lunch to shooting it, felt it was a bad idea to add hunting lessons to typical marital negotiations. I partly wanted to put meat on the table, but also knew my young daughter would soon learn to shoot, and I couldn’t face the fear that comes from not knowing. I wanted to forge as many connections with her as possible, before she started giving me the “talk to the hand” sign.

And who was going to teach us? Well, one of those Bad Conservative Boys, of course. But, as is the case 95% of the time, people like each other regardless of their stance on Federal subsidies or what kind of change is required in the White House. Spin-masters on both sides want us to forget that as a species, we want to get along. And we did. Our instructor, Rick, was a great teacher, a knowledgeable woodsman, and an all around terrific guy. But we all knew better than to correct him about Obama’s position on the 2^nd Amendment… at least not while he had a gun in hand. And since no one from Obama’s office has come to our houses to take our guns away yet, it’s good to know that those conservative boys can be worry-warts, too.

Rick taught us well; in the classroom, about where to aim at to ensure a clean, quick kill, about hunting laws and regulations, about different rifles and loading configurations, and about the wonders of freeze-dried food (the peach cobbler was my favorite). At the firing range, helping us sight our guns for accuracy and learn to hold our bodies relaxed, to reduce fatigue, and how to best hold our rifles for a good shot. Throughout the lessons he emphasized the importance of ethical hunting and taking responsibility for every shot fired. The ethical part was a big surprise for me. Bad Conservative Boys defy stereotype, too.

To end the course, Rick took us in pairs into the early winter Tongass, hunting for deer. Neither team of women, nor Rick, fired a shot on those outings, or even saw a deer (though the story is that when the other team of women saw two deer cross the road while driving home, one of them all hollered “Run ‘em down, Rick!”). But his calm, assured, “one with the forest” attitude while hunting was one of the best lessons. Everyone, no matter their politics, can love the forest and be in awe of the wonders found there.

So here’s a guided visualization for Good Liberal Girls and Women: even if you’ve spent your life speaking against guns, like I had; even if you’re afraid of firing a gun; even if it has become a habit to order steak at the Hangar. Imagine the beauty of our boreal rainforest, the peace of walking through it softly or sitting for an hour on a moss-covered log, Buddha-like in your calm and awareness. Then allow yourself to feel the primal need for family survival (my husband prefers the phrase, “blood lust, surging through your veins,” and he’s an Extremely Liberal Man). Respect and thank the deer, as women have done for untold centuries (no one can tell me that women haven’t hunted throughout history – like pretending that American women didn’t work outside the home in the 50’s). Liberals and Conservatives alike, we can always agree on the desire for a full freezer.

Find your inner Diana:

Though I highly recommend finding a trusted and experienced hunter to get you started, here are ways and organizations for you to follow to learn how to hunt. If I can do it, trust me, so can you.

Becoming an Outdoors Woman (BOW): www.sf.adfg.state.ak.us/region3/programs/BOW/

An excellent resource for hands-on experience with hunting, fishing, and other wilderness skills. November 14-20 they will host the Raspberry Island Fin & Fur Adventure off of Kodiak. There will also be a camp in Southeast in May, 2011.

Juneau Hunter Education: http://www.huntereducation.alaska.gov/ or 465-4265

These are excellent introductory classes that cover firearm safety, wilderness safety, laws and regulations, and the basics of firing a rifle. The instructors are experienced local hunters and Fish and Game employees. There are no classes currently scheduled so you can call the Alaska Department of Fish and Game at 465-4265 to get on a list for future classes.

Cooperative Extension 4-H Program: http://www.uaf.edu/ces/4h/ or Darren Snyder at 796-6281

A lot of women start hunting because of their kids. The 4-H shooting sports club might be a place you can experience it together.

Field dressing a deer: if you’ve got the stomach for it, there are lots of good videos on You-Tube. But it really is best to see someone doing it live; it was actually less difficult for me to watch it in person. It was somehow more respectful to the animal to be able to touch it and, well, thank it.

Processing game meat: http://www.uaf.edu/ces/preservingalaskasbounty/index.html

Once again the Cooperative Extension Service comes through. Check their website for some terrific learning modules. Also watch for local Community Kitchen events (JuneauCommunityKitchens@gmail.com) about processing game.

Sarah Lewis is a local architect and social worker, and proud owner of a Ruger 308 compact rifle with a laminated stock and Leupold scope… and she loves how good it looks with her Xtra-tufs.

The Season of Fall(ing)

(Originally published in the Juneau Empire, September 2010)

Although the four seasons are known to others as Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter, my own Juneau seasons are Soggy, Sailing, Falling, and When Eaglecrest Ski Area is Open.

Falling (which some years extends into When Eaglecrest is Open) I have so named because that’s what I do come September. I fall. I have no idea why. It’s certainly not because there’s more rain to confuse my feet, nor because we suddenly have cloud cover obscuring the line between curb and street. Honestly, rain is comfort weather for a Juneauite and I’m sure the eyes of Southeast Alaskans have evolved to see contrast where others see shades of grey (insert your own witty comment about Juneau’s Democrats and Republicans here). But down I go; twisting an ankle, stubbing a toe, tripping on my own feet with a graceful flourish.

It might be that I’m worn out after Sailing (navigating the Inside Passage by wind-power is darn tiring… as is navigating downtown Juneau after the ships sail in) or that I’m calorie deprived after growing my own salad greens. Either way, come September, my body tells me I need to sit down, bring my world closer to home, my awake hours back to 16, and get ready for winter. Which really is the purpose of pretending we have Fall in Juneau: to recuperate from Summer and prepare for Winter.

In my home we’re typically in denial about the approach of winter until we forget to prepare for it at all. We’ll have a broken snow shovel, ski boots too small for the kids, and no wood for the stove. We’ve thrown money at these problems: buying the last, priced-like-gold shovel, ordering brand new boots, and resigning ourselves to paying an extra $1000 for electric heat for the winter. Ah well, the cost of living in Juneau, we say. But now that we’re living off one income (which I highly recommend, regardless of how many incomes are coming in – a soap box topic for another day), there is no extra $1000 unless we break out the evil, life sucking credit cards.

So, preparing for winter has an added importance for us this year; we’ll be sure the wood pile is tall. And though I aspire to canning my harvest some day, “putting food by” still means shopping sales and finding bulk deals at Costco. But it’s better than putting no food by at all. Filling the pantry in the fall means cheaper food, less shopping and less winter driving.

So, if I can keep my summer energy for a few more weeks, and manage to stay on my feet and off my tail bone, I hope to be ready for When Eaglecrest is Open – and not spend it sitting in the lodge with a cup of tea and a good book (oops, that sounds darn good. Maybe a minor knee twist in January?).

Fall Checklist

Though many of you are still in the season called Salmon, with the Deer season to follow, don’t neglect the many other winter preparations you can do to reduce spending and increase enjoyment of the season. Here are a few things to consider for your list:

ENERGY

       Stock up on firewood: Find the “Tree Cutting Map & Rules on Public Lands” at www.juneau.org/lands/ to make sure you harvest legally and with respect for our public lands and ecosystems. Or look for classifieds and roadside signs for folks offering firewood for sale.

       Increase your “Clo”: Did you know that a Clo is a unit of personal insulation? One Clo is attained by wearing pants and a long-sleeved shirt, while sitting at a desk. If you increase either your Clo or your activity level, you can decrease your room temperature and still be comfortable.

       Lower your thermostat: Lower the set point by 3 to 5 degrees from your normal. To stay comfortable either get going on that treadmill or get blankets and sweaters to increase your Clo.

       Turn off lights: Though fluorescent and efficient bulbs use less energy, and most energy from a standard bulb is heat, so isn’t always wasted (if the heat in the room is reduced to compensate), waste is waste. If you don’t need the light, don’t leave it on.

       Tighten up your home: Re-caulk your windows, buy storm doors and windows, add gaskets around openings to the attic, get plastic for extra-leaky windows, and gaskets for outlets on exterior walls, etc. Don’t worry that you’ll over-tighten, it’s not likely… and you can always open a door for a few minutes if you need to.

       Prep your wood-burner: Give your stove or fireplace a good cleaning, all the way up the stack. Look in the yellow pages or online for chimney sweeps, or go to a home/hardware store for the DIY tools. Have all safety supplies near the stove and check extinguishers and smoke detectors.

FOOD

       Put your garden to bed: As a novice, I recommend calling the Cooperative Extension Service for good information. What I’ll do this month is pull all plants from my containers and garden to compost them. Next month I’ll add the container soil, and possibly compost and other soil amendments, to my 5 ft by 8 ft garden plot. Then I’ll cover it with newspaper and the black plastic I reuse each year.

       Pick and process some berries: There are lots of berries left out there, it’s been such a weird year for them. At the very least, freeze some up. The Cooperative Extension Service is once again your go-to info source.

       Go to the Saturday Farmers Market at the JACC: Extended through September for late-harvest produce. This is the best stuff… fresh from local gardens, and no air miles!

       Shop sales and buy bulk: See what the grocery stores have near the end of the Lower 48 growing season. I look for produce that is less than $2/lb, especially organic, then buy enough to freeze or can.

MISCELLANY

       Kill your TVs: I’m serious. Put all TVs except the family one in storage. Instead of creating bad watching habits that persist all year, watch less and watch it together. Better yet, cancel your cable so you can have time to read, exercise outside, talk, and play games with your kids.

       Prepare for emergencies: Store enough candles, batteries, flashlights, water, propane, canned food, first aid supplies, etc, for an emergency of a few weeks.

       Stock up on craft supplies: Plan for holiday gifts and home projects for long winter evenings. Or make items to sell at the Farmers Market next year.

[Bio]

Sarah Lewis is a local architect and social worker who loves to make lists just to check things off and feel she’s accomplished something… and she hopes that every once in a while she really does.

Days of Bread and Toothpaste

(Originally published in the Juneau Empire, August 2010)

Bread and toothpaste. One is older than farming, the other younger than some people on the planet today. Both are completely indispensable after you put them in your mouth the first time.

These are two items I’ve wondered about when folks discuss food security and future scarcity. If there comes a time when shipping goods to Juneau is a problem, because of high fuel costs or limited access, many items would quickly become scarce or expensive. If that happens, you can all head for Radio Shack and Caribbean emeralds. I’ll be at A&P looting for bread and toothpaste.

How the heck did folks live before the sliced loaf and the striped tube?

In Southeast Alaska, before there was access to Outside goods, we filled our own needs just fine. We hunted and fished for meat and went to forests and beaches for vegetables and fruits. In fact, everything we needed, including dental cleaners, came from the ocean and forest superstores. Even after more people moved in and shipping started from Seattle, the boats were likely to bring basic ingredients, not finished products: fabric instead of clothes, seeds instead of apples, chickens instead of buffalo wings. We opened dairies and planted gardens; increasing the variety of food available to us. It didn’t miraculously show up at the store back then I hear.

So bread came to Juneau as flour (or grain, milled into flour locally), sugar, and salt. We added local yeast (did you know it’s actually in the air? Crazy), and milk and butter from the local dairy. Eventually, Purity Bakery, where the Silverbow Inn and Bakery is now, would bake for you if you could afford it, or you’d do the week’s baking on Saturday.

On the early boats, tooth care probably came to Juneau as tooth powders and, again, the ingredients needed to make your own toothpaste. Before that, I’m guessing we used what people used all over the world before modern dental hygiene: fibrous or aromatic wood sticks to brush with and herbs to clean with. Of course that was also before the avalanche of cheap, sugar-filled foods. Keeping our teeth from rotting was probably easier back then.

So I’ve been thinking off and on about how to become bread and toothpaste secure. I know, some people free slaves and feed starving children, but this is what I do when nursing the baby or waiting for my 10-year-old to finish judo. We each do what we can.

Bread:

Ahhh, fresh baked bread. Remember when Le Petit Paris bakery was on North Franklin and 3^rd, in the 1980’s? We’d run down there from Capital School just for the baguettes… imagine the odd sight of little kids on the playground with long loaves of French bread.

The economics of making my own bread is already in my favor, even without higher prices. Two middling quality, non-organic loaves of bread bought from a store are $8 to $10. Two mostly organic loaves I recently made at home came to $3.50, including electricity for baking and gas for transportation. Assuming the cost of ingredients goes up at the same rate as pre-baked bread, that’s more than 50% saved. Of course, fresh bread tastes so good that we need twice as many loaves!

Basic Bread Recipe: Scald (heat until the edges start bubbling) ½ cup milk in sauce pan, remove from heat. Add 3 tbs sugar, 2 tsp salt, and 3 tbs butter to pan, stir until dissolved, cool to lukewarm. Pour 1 ½ cups warm water into large bowl, sprinkle in 2 ¼ tsp (or 1 packet) active dry yeast, stir until dissolved. Stir milk mixture into yeast mixture. Add 3 cups unbleached white flour, beat with a wooden spoon until smooth. Add 3 cups unbleached white or wheat flour a little at a time, eventually using your hands. Will be firm but slightly sticky. Roll dough ball onto a floured board and knead (fold ball toward you, press down with heels of hands, give a quarter turn, repeat). TIP: find a low counter or a step stool and put your back into it. Knead for 10 minutes, shape into a smooth ball and put in a large greased bowl. Cover with a cloth and set in an 80-85 degree, draft-free place (some ovens have a “bread proof” setting). Let rise about an hour, punch the middle, put back on the floured board, let rest for 5 minutes. Knead again for a few minutes then pull into two halves. Shape each into a 7 inch long oval and place in greased loaf pans. Cover with cloth and let rise in warm place again for another hour. Preheat oven to 400 degrees, bake for 35-40 minutes until golden brown and hollow sounding when tapped. Take out of pans and cool on a rack.

Toothpaste:

So I’ll have my bread should crude hit the fan – what about toothpaste? I remember childhood days when we had a baking soda concoction at the bathroom sink. I’m guessing my dad read something in Mother Earth News about the benefits of homemade tooth powder. (In fact, I found their 1975 article online – the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it , Dad?) It was no Crest, but my parents used it for a good while. And I’ve noticed that recent articles still promote the same tried and true recipes for tooth powders and pastes, so maybe there’s something to it.

But do I really want to make my own? My family has no dental insurance so prevention and our two annual trips to the dentist are key. Tricky balance. And how important is that fluoride? I remember folks got pretty riled up about it around town a few years ago; fluoride was taken out of City water over some protest. So it seems like it could be a bad parenting moment to take it out of my kids’ toothpaste unless I have no choice. Maybe for toothpaste it’s better to know that there are options, but stick with modern technology until there’s a real reason to return to the days of Dr. Mercury’s Amazing Dentifrice and Pot Cleaner.

Tooth powder recipe: mix 3 parts baking soda with 1 part salt.

Toothpaste recipe: for each cup of tooth powder add 3 teaspoons of glycerin and 10 or more drops of your favorite flavor oil (mints are traditional, but why not orange or almond?). You can even add a drop of food coloring. Keep the paste in a covered bowl in the bathroom, dip your toothbrush, and brush how the dentist told you.

It’s not that I think we’re really heading back to the 1920s. If fuel tops $8 a gallon, I think most of the goods we’ve become accustomed to will still be available. We’ll just use them carefully, and sort out which ones we can live without. I think bread and toothpaste are good examples. Without much difficulty, and maybe with more pleasure, we could bake all our bread locally. But I’ll stick with imported toothpaste and visits to the dentist, paying for them with money saved by the double-good of keeping store-bought bread and sugary foods out of the shopping cart.

Sarah Lewis is a local architect who just realized that she actually likes bread because it’s a vehicle for butter. If anyone wants to re-start the local dairy scene, she’d be a regular customer.