Notes From the Farm #1:

Well, now it's official. When I announced that I was a full time
resident of the tree farm, it was a fact in that I had made a
decision, given notice of intent to quit my job, served my last day of
servitude on that job, notified my landlord (well, landLADY....albeit
she is no "lady"), and driven all the way up here with no deeply felt
moral imperative to return to megalopohell, and whatnotall......but
today......TODAY.....I got me a official library card at the
Sparta free public library (also recognized at most of the finer free
public libraries in a nine county region), courtesy of Messr.
Carnegie . What could possibly be more rigorous, official, binding
and final than that? What says "commitment" more eloquently or
emphatically than "here is where I shall gather the stuff of life"?
Hm.....well, there's the obvious fact that I no longer have any reason
at all to return to Milwaukee.....um.....well, other than the ready
access to a host of lovely ethnic markets laden with what was once
considered exotic fare but has, however mysteriously, joined the ranks
of the necessities of life.....but we will find a way to make do.

But all of that is either here or there and is simply a matter of
locale.....it has little if anything to do with the important business
of life, which is more about doing than place. Tonight we will be
doing potatoes, onions, and bratwurst simmered in kraut (well, not
actually "simmered" in a pressure cooker, but you know what I mean)
and served with fresh baked bread. In fact, we pause to enjoy the
repast.

Later.....

O.k., simmered, served and savored. Definitely worth the trouble of
preserving the leftovers in the newly purchased pressure canner, which
sibilates merrily in the background as we digest, ruminate, and
fulminate. So, where were we?

Oh yes, the new life. So far, so good. Body and baggage arrived sans
breakage and with minimal psychic trauma. Sleep was in short supply
for a couple of days, but that was easily remedied night before
last.....and uncharacteristically deep into yesterday morning. Spent
pretty much all of yesterday (Friday) unpacking, organizing, head
scratching, dawdling, planning, cooking, drinking, smoking and
eating. Not at all a bad start. Today was the library thing, opening
new bank accounts, checking snail mail, e-mail, phone messages,
shopping for immediate necessities and sundry other little chores.
This left most of a rainy day for observing surroundings, cooking, and
reading.

Early in John Madson's "Where the Sky Began: Land of the Tall Grass
Prairie" he repeats the oft told tale of the fear and trepidation
inspired in the hearts of the first of the American immigrants to move
westward beyond the Appalachian mountain range, by the apparently
limitless expanse of grasses more or less unrelieved by trees. Their
uneasiness with the unfamiliar landscape was no doubt heightened by
the well known truism that soil too poor to support a forest was poor
soil indeed, manifestly unsuited to agriculture. All of which would
be breathtakingly uninteresting but for two peculiar facts. One is
that they had the soil fertility equation entirely bass ackwards
(startling in an agricultural people of dozens or hundreds of
generations standing.....or would be if tenure was any sort of
positive indication of stature), and the other is that the same sort
of dread and foreboding invariably accompanied first exposure to
forest in peoples reared in less sylvan climes. I guess it's all just
a matter of what you're used to, huh?

Well, no, not quite. Ever since the Leakeys and that whole African
rift valley business, it has been clear that we are a species that
evolved in savannah. Not quite forest.....not quite grassland. Sort
of the kind of thing that spawned a certain well known radio
personality out there on the edge of the prairie. Sort of the kind of
place in which I grew up myself, though I was hardly aware of it at
the time.....being the product of an educational system that, like
today's, lagged some thirty to ninety years behind last year's news in
the sciences, the humanities, the arts, and pretty much everything
else that might spawn an actual interest in learning.....but that's a
whole nother rant. What it comes down to is that humans, regardless
of what sort of environment they grew up in, have a deep and abiding
affection for what is commonly called a "parklike" setting. Studies
have shown that most people show a strong preference for whatever kind
of environment they grew up in. Not surprising. What IS somewhat
surprising (till you think about it) is that the vast majority pick
the parklike or savannah, with widely spaced trees surrounded by
grassland and little to no shrubby undergrowth as their second
choice.....regardless of whatever other kind of surroundings they grew
up in.

In any case, the species and I have pretty much left all of that
behind. Humanity opts (will it or nil it) mostly for the urban and
urbane these days, and in ever increasing numbers, worldwide.
Economics, mostly, I suppose.....with a liberal dose of technodazzle.
I have chosen the path less travelled and am now back in a nearly
parklike setting. The tree farm isn't really all that much like
savannah, but it's a lot less like forest or prairie. The spacing is
off (not to mention rigid) and yeah, there are a lot of trees and lot
of grass and forbs between them.....but it's still not savannah. Not
that that's a bad thing.....here.....this never really was savannah.
But it all gives off certain hints and allegations. In the dim
twilight hours, if you stare real hard.....pretty much anywhere and at
anything.....sometimes, off in the corner of your eye, you can almost
get a glimpse of a slinking form moving between the shadows. Tigers,
I suppose. And, somehow, that's comforting.

Wolfgang
who supposes the comfort level would probably decrease in proportion
to the likelihood that there actually were tigers out there.

hm.....o.k.....bears!

There is an interesting comparison to be made here in the area/land
that I've chosen to inhabit. I've gone totally the opposite and
decided on the forbs and grasses as a setting for a home. No trees.
Then again, that is the nature of this area of the country. The only
reason we've got trees is that we've stopped the prairie fires from
burning the young, woody tree trunks. Grasses recover well from the
fire, their life is in their roots.
I grew up in the intercoastal hills and chaparral of Southern
California. Woody scrub interspersed with live oak. After a fire,
the grasses would come in, for a year or two and then get crowded out
by the sage and forbs, returning it to the blue green of the
chaparral.
Never liked the grass back then, wasn't natural. Here it is.
Kinda sad that we have to cultivate the natural biome.
Frank Reid

On Nov 14, 9:03*am, Frank Reid © 2010 wrote:
There is an interesting comparison to be made here in the area/land
that I've chosen to inhabit. *I've gone totally the opposite and
decided on the forbs and grasses as a setting for a home. *No trees.
Then again, that is the nature of this area of the country. *The only
reason we've got trees is that we've stopped the prairie fires from
burning the young, woody tree trunks. *Grasses recover well from the
fire, their life is in their roots.

Fire is certainly an important factor in the predominance of grasses
over trees, not only in your area, but in many of the world's other
great grasslands as well. But it's not the "only reason." The
relative importance of fire varies considerably from place to place
and time to time. Four hundred or so miles to the east of where
you're at it would quite likely have been a critical factor in
historic times. Four hundred miles to the west it would have been
entirely unnecessary......even the tail end of the Rocky Mountains'
rain shadow would be enough to maintain the dominance of the grasses.
Various environmental factors play greater or lesser roles, but long
range average rainfall appears to be the single most significant
factor overall.

Grasses do indeed recover well after fires, but many trees are, at
least as fully mature specimens, pretty much immune to the effects of
grass fires. The "oak openings" in the tall grass prairies of
northern Indiana and Illinois and southern Wisconsin and Michigan are
a classic example. Mature bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa) stands up very
well to prairie fires, as do analogous species in most, if not all, of
the world's major grasslands.

In any case, the tension zones between grasslands and forests are
continually in flux as a response to continually changing
environmental conditions, fire being but one of many.

I grew up in the intercoastal hills and chaparral of Southern
California. *Woody scrub interspersed with live oak. * After a fire,
the grasses would come in, for a year or two and then get crowded out
by the sage and forbs, returning it to the blue green of the
chaparral.

Interesting stuff. Average human lifespan and rate of technological
change throughout most of history have made it seems as if typical
"natural" groundcover was as immutable as geography and geology. But
the fact is that things change......although the laws that govern
change do not themselves change all that much. Rainfall (for the most
part) dictated that tall grass prairies dominated in the eastern
portion of the North American grasslands and that the grasses got
correspondingly shorter to the west in response to diminishing water
supplies. Today the vast prairies are all but gone.......but the tall
grasses (like corn) still dominate in the eastern regions (Illinois,
Iowa) and give way to shorter cousins (like wheat) further west
(Kansas, Nebraska) and others, shorter yet, as one continues westward.

Never liked the grass back then, wasn't natural. *Here it is.

The trouble now (well, ONE of the troubles) is that the grasses that
do best STILL ain't natural.

Kinda sad that we have to cultivate the natural biome.

Could be worse. Cultivating walnuts, butternuts, hazels, and
chestnuts is kinda fun.

Frank Reid

You want some chestnuts to break up the monotony?

Wolfgang

Wishing you all the best in your new venture.

Rob.


"Giles" wrote in message
...
Well, now it's official. When I announced that I was a full time
resident of the tree farm, it was a fact in that I had made a
decision, given notice of intent to quit my job, served my last day of
servitude on that job, notified my landlord (well, landLADY....albeit
she is no "lady"), and driven all the way up here with no deeply felt
moral imperative to return to megalopohell, and whatnotall......but
today......TODAY.....I got me a official library card at the
Sparta free public library (also recognized at most of the finer free
public libraries in a nine county region), courtesy of Messr.
Carnegie . What could possibly be more rigorous, official, binding
and final than that? What says "commitment" more eloquently or
emphatically than "here is where I shall gather the stuff of life"?
Hm.....well, there's the obvious fact that I no longer have any reason
at all to return to Milwaukee.....um.....well, other than the ready
access to a host of lovely ethnic markets laden with what was once
considered exotic fare but has, however mysteriously, joined the ranks
of the necessities of life.....but we will find a way to make do.

But all of that is either here or there and is simply a matter of
locale.....it has little if anything to do with the important business
of life, which is more about doing than place. Tonight we will be
doing potatoes, onions, and bratwurst simmered in kraut (well, not
actually "simmered" in a pressure cooker, but you know what I mean)
and served with fresh baked bread. In fact, we pause to enjoy the
repast.

Later.....

O.k., simmered, served and savored. Definitely worth the trouble of
preserving the leftovers in the newly purchased pressure canner, which
sibilates merrily in the background as we digest, ruminate, and
fulminate. So, where were we?

Oh yes, the new life. So far, so good. Body and baggage arrived sans
breakage and with minimal psychic trauma. Sleep was in short supply
for a couple of days, but that was easily remedied night before
last.....and uncharacteristically deep into yesterday morning. Spent
pretty much all of yesterday (Friday) unpacking, organizing, head
scratching, dawdling, planning, cooking, drinking, smoking and
eating. Not at all a bad start. Today was the library thing, opening
new bank accounts, checking snail mail, e-mail, phone messages,
shopping for immediate necessities and sundry other little chores.
This left most of a rainy day for observing surroundings, cooking, and
reading.

Early in John Madson's "Where the Sky Began: Land of the Tall Grass
Prairie" he repeats the oft told tale of the fear and trepidation
inspired in the hearts of the first of the American immigrants to move
westward beyond the Appalachian mountain range, by the apparently
limitless expanse of grasses more or less unrelieved by trees. Their
uneasiness with the unfamiliar landscape was no doubt heightened by
the well known truism that soil too poor to support a forest was poor
soil indeed, manifestly unsuited to agriculture. All of which would
be breathtakingly uninteresting but for two peculiar facts. One is
that they had the soil fertility equation entirely bass ackwards
(startling in an agricultural people of dozens or hundreds of
generations standing.....or would be if tenure was any sort of
positive indication of stature), and the other is that the same sort
of dread and foreboding invariably accompanied first exposure to
forest in peoples reared in less sylvan climes. I guess it's all just
a matter of what you're used to, huh?

Well, no, not quite. Ever since the Leakeys and that whole African
rift valley business, it has been clear that we are a species that
evolved in savannah. Not quite forest.....not quite grassland. Sort
of the kind of thing that spawned a certain well known radio
personality out there on the edge of the prairie. Sort of the kind of
place in which I grew up myself, though I was hardly aware of it at
the time.....being the product of an educational system that, like
today's, lagged some thirty to ninety years behind last year's news in
the sciences, the humanities, the arts, and pretty much everything
else that might spawn an actual interest in learning.....but that's a
whole nother rant. What it comes down to is that humans, regardless
of what sort of environment they grew up in, have a deep and abiding
affection for what is commonly called a "parklike" setting. Studies
have shown that most people show a strong preference for whatever kind
of environment they grew up in. Not surprising. What IS somewhat
surprising (till you think about it) is that the vast majority pick
the parklike or savannah, with widely spaced trees surrounded by
grassland and little to no shrubby undergrowth as their second
choice.....regardless of whatever other kind of surroundings they grew
up in.

In any case, the species and I have pretty much left all of that
behind. Humanity opts (will it or nil it) mostly for the urban and
urbane these days, and in ever increasing numbers, worldwide.
Economics, mostly, I suppose.....with a liberal dose of technodazzle.
I have chosen the path less travelled and am now back in a nearly
parklike setting. The tree farm isn't really all that much like
savannah, but it's a lot less like forest or prairie. The spacing is
off (not to mention rigid) and yeah, there are a lot of trees and lot
of grass and forbs between them.....but it's still not savannah. Not
that that's a bad thing.....here.....this never really was savannah.
But it all gives off certain hints and allegations. In the dim
twilight hours, if you stare real hard.....pretty much anywhere and at
anything.....sometimes, off in the corner of your eye, you can almost
get a glimpse of a slinking form moving between the shadows. Tigers,
I suppose. And, somehow, that's comforting.

Wolfgang
who supposes the comfort level would probably decrease in proportion
to the likelihood that there actually were tigers out there.

hm.....o.k.....bears!

On Nov 14, 7:30*pm, Giles wrote:
On Nov 14, 9:03*am, Frank Reid © 2010 wrote:

There is an interesting comparison to be made here in the area/land
that I've chosen to inhabit. *I've gone totally the opposite and
decided on the forbs and grasses as a setting for a home. *No trees.
Then again, that is the nature of this area of the country. *The only
reason we've got trees is that we've stopped the prairie fires from
burning the young, woody tree trunks. *Grasses recover well from the
fire, their life is in their roots.

Fire is certainly an important factor in the predominance of grasses
over trees, not only in your area, but in many of the world's other
great grasslands as well. *But it's not the "only reason." *The
relative importance of fire varies considerably from place to place
and time to time. *Four hundred or so miles to the east of where
you're at it would quite likely have been a critical factor in
historic times. *Four hundred miles to the west it would have been
entirely unnecessary......even the tail end of the Rocky Mountains'
rain shadow would be enough to maintain the dominance of the grasses.
Various environmental factors play greater or lesser roles, but long
range average rainfall appears to be the single most significant
factor overall.

Grasses do indeed recover well after fires, but many trees are, at
least as fully mature specimens, pretty much immune to the effects of
grass fires. *The "oak openings" in the tall grass prairies of
northern Indiana and Illinois and southern Wisconsin and Michigan are
a classic example. *Mature bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa) stands up very
well to prairie fires, as do analogous species in most, if not all, of
the world's major grasslands.

In any case, the tension zones between grasslands and forests are
continually in flux as a response to continually changing
environmental conditions, fire being but one of many.

I grew up in the intercoastal hills and chaparral of Southern
California. *Woody scrub interspersed with live oak. * After a fire,
the grasses would come in, for a year or two and then get crowded out
by the sage and forbs, returning it to the blue green of the
chaparral.

Interesting stuff. *Average human lifespan and rate of technological
change throughout most of history have made it seems as if typical
"natural" groundcover was as immutable as geography and geology. *But
the fact is that things change......although the laws that govern
change do not themselves change all that much. *Rainfall (for the most
part) dictated that tall grass prairies dominated in the eastern
portion of the North American grasslands and that the grasses got
correspondingly shorter to the west in response to diminishing water
supplies. *Today the vast prairies are all but gone.......but the tall
grasses (like corn) still dominate in the eastern regions (Illinois,
Iowa) and give way to shorter cousins (like wheat) further west
(Kansas, Nebraska) and others, shorter yet, as one continues westward.

Never liked the grass back then, wasn't natural. *Here it is.

The trouble now (well, ONE of the troubles) is that the grasses that
do best STILL ain't natural. * * *

Kinda sad that we have to cultivate the natural biome.

Could be worse. *Cultivating walnuts, butternuts, hazels, and
chestnuts is kinda fun. * * *

Frank Reid

You want some chestnuts to break up the monotony?

Wolfgang

And oh, by the way, my buffalo grass lawn is doing quite well and its
VERY natural.
Sure, send some chesnuts. I can plant them at the bottom of the hill
and let the grandkids throw them at each other in a few years.
Frank Reid

On Nov 14, 9:28*pm, "Robert from Oz"
wrote:
Wishing you all the best in your new venture.

Rob.

Thanks, Rob. It promises to be interesting at the very least.

Wolfgang

On Nov 14, 5:30*pm, Giles wrote:
On Nov 14, 9:03*am, Frank Reid © 2010 wrote:

There is an interesting comparison to be made here in the area/land
that I've chosen to inhabit. *I've gone totally the opposite and
decided on the forbs and grasses as a setting for a home. *No trees.
Then again, that is the nature of this area of the country. *The only
reason we've got trees is that we've stopped the prairie fires from
burning the young, woody tree trunks. *Grasses recover well from the
fire, their life is in their roots.

Fire is certainly an important factor in the predominance of grasses
over trees, not only in your area, but in many of the world's other
great grasslands as well. *But it's not the "only reason." *The
relative importance of fire varies considerably from place to place
and time to time. *Four hundred or so miles to the east of where
you're at it would quite likely have been a critical factor in
historic times. *Four hundred miles to the west it would have been
entirely unnecessary......even the tail end of the Rocky Mountains'
rain shadow would be enough to maintain the dominance of the grasses.
Various environmental factors play greater or lesser roles, but long
range average rainfall appears to be the single most significant
factor overall.

Grasses do indeed recover well after fires, but many trees are, at
least as fully mature specimens, pretty much immune to the effects of
grass fires. *The "oak openings" in the tall grass prairies of
northern Indiana and Illinois and southern Wisconsin and Michigan are
a classic example. *Mature bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa) stands up very
well to prairie fires, as do analogous species in most, if not all, of
the world's major grasslands.

In any case, the tension zones between grasslands and forests are
continually in flux as a response to continually changing
environmental conditions, fire being but one of many.

I grew up in the intercoastal hills and chaparral of Southern
California. *Woody scrub interspersed with live oak. * After a fire,
the grasses would come in, for a year or two and then get crowded out
by the sage and forbs, returning it to the blue green of the
chaparral.

Interesting stuff. *Average human lifespan and rate of technological
change throughout most of history have made it seems as if typical
"natural" groundcover was as immutable as geography and geology. *But
the fact is that things change......although the laws that govern
change do not themselves change all that much. *Rainfall (for the most
part) dictated that tall grass prairies dominated in the eastern
portion of the North American grasslands and that the grasses got
correspondingly shorter to the west in response to diminishing water
supplies. *Today the vast prairies are all but gone.......but the tall
grasses (like corn) still dominate in the eastern regions (Illinois,
Iowa) and give way to shorter cousins (like wheat) further west
(Kansas, Nebraska) and others, shorter yet, as one continues westward.

Never liked the grass back then, wasn't natural. *Here it is.

The trouble now (well, ONE of the troubles) is that the grasses that
do best STILL ain't natural. * * *

Kinda sad that we have to cultivate the natural biome.

Could be worse. *Cultivating walnuts, butternuts, hazels, and
chestnuts is kinda fun. * * *

Frank Reid

You want some chestnuts to break up the monotony?

Wolfgang

Well it looks like your move progresses. Keep posting this stuff, it
is good for the soul. I was told years ago that taking care of trees
and repairing the land is what men are supposed to do in later life.
And then there is that French tale of deep regeneration that has
influenced so many to plant trees. Or honoring the creation as some
Christians put it. Anyway, good stuff.

This discussion of grasses and forbs grabs my attention: Per the East
is long/West is shorter idea. I am not so sure that same applies West
of the Rocky's. Ive got 4 foot high clumps of Blue Wheat Grass (a
native) all over my place on the Palouse, and it and some others Ive
yet to ID are all over the High Steppe. Maybe the water regime changes
on the West side of the Bitterroot?

We add a little sour cream, and vary the brats with some finer grained
sausage whose name escapes me.

If the chestnut invite extends to my clumsy hands, a few this way
would be welcome for another attempt.
Dave

On Nov 15, 7:06*am, Frank Reid © 2010 wrote:


And oh, by the way, my buffalo grass lawn is doing quite well and its
VERY natural.

Not very familiar with the species, as it is not common hereabouts,
but the name alone tells me it is likely very well suited to your
neighborhood. Though, of course, we also had bison hereabouts a while
back......buffalo grass may well be a native species in western
Curdistan, for all I know.

Sure, send some chesnuts.

Will do.....assuming that Larry doesn't eat or otherwise dispose of
them in the meantime. Alas, his short term memory has nearly
completely deserted him, thus requiring various strategems to
circumvent boneheaded actions on all sorts of levels.

And while we're on the subject, anyone else wishing to receive some
American chestnut seed should let me know in the next couple of
months. I have probably a hundred or so , and germination rates tend
to be very high. I believe Becky may have another fifty.....possible
a few more. In all, we can safely promise 75-100 viable seed to all
interested parties on a first come first served basis. Details to
follow.

I can plant them at the bottom of the hill

About the time they are ready to ship.....late winter to early
spring.....I will once again post here (as well as sending emails to
individual recipients) instructions as to the proper care to be taken
with the seeds and seedlings. As those who received them last year
can attest, ALL instructions and safeguards are to be be taken
EXTREMELY seriously.....unless you just like dead ****.

and let the grandkids throw them at each other in a few years.

Unless and until you have handled actual chestnut burs (sans VERY
thick and tough leather gloves), you really cannot imagine how LARGE a
ruckus that is most certainly going to raise.

Wolfgang
hyperbole be damned, we're talking major hurt here.

On Nov 15, 1:11*pm, DaveS wrote:

Well it looks like your move progresses.

The actual move is now complete. All that remains is the trifling
matter of entirely reorganizing a life along hitherto unimagined
lines. But, I bought a new chainsaw today.....the rest should be easy
enough.

Keep posting this stuff, it
is good for the soul.

The posting is good enough for one soul, one which has already
received a considerable boost from the change that inspired it. If it
does another any good, so much the better.

I was told years ago that taking care of trees
and repairing the land is what men are supposed to do in later life.

I know I've posted it here before, but it bears repeating. There is
an old Greek proverb that says a society grows great when its old men
plant trees whose shade they know they will never sit in. The old
Greeks never understood women.....undoubtedly never cared to.....but
it may safely be said that the gender specificity of the old Greek
proverb should probably not be taken too seriously. In any case, true
as it is in a literal sense, there is a deeper and more important
underlying truth in this expression that should not need to be
explained to anyone.....and that's about as good an encapsulation of
what is wrong with the world today (as in every other age) as anyone
should ever need. On the other hand, grasses, shrubs, frogs and
fishes are pretty nice too.

And then there is that French tale of deep regeneration that has
influenced so many to plant trees.

I am not familiar with that tale.

Or honoring the creation as some
Christians put it

Ah, well, when you bring the Christians (or any other religious cult)
into it, that changes the complexion of things considerably. All one
need do in such a case is remember that all of them habitually invoke
Pascal's wager, blissfully unaware the Pascal was no fool......but
they are.*

Anyway, good stuff.

Thank you.

This discussion of grasses and forbs grabs my attention: Per the East
is long/West is shorter idea. I am not so sure that same applies West
of the Rocky's. Ive got 4 foot high clumps of Blue Wheat Grass (a
native) all over my place on the Palouse, and it and some others Ive
yet to ID are all over the High Steppe.

The same natural laws apply everywhere in the known universe.

Maybe the water regime changes
on the West side of the Bitterroot?

Exactly. The laws don't change. The conditions they describe and
apply to do. Tall grasses in the east and short in the west is a
description of prevailing conditions in the great grasslands of
central North America, largely as a result of the rain shadow of the
western mountain chains.....principally the Rockies, but also the
lesser chains to the west....and the ever increasing effects of huge
moist air masses coming up from the Gulf of Mexico as one moves
further east. The same laws, again, apply further west, between the
mountain ranges, but their effects are not as great (for a number of
reasons), and they are also doubtless complicated by other factors.
Even within the great grasslands, and beyond their generally
recognized margins, local conditions can overpower the effects of the
Rocikes and the Gulf. In post colonial times, emigrants found prairie
outliers in western Pennsylvania and eastern Ohio, as well as in
Kentucky.....all of which are far east of the Mississippi, which is a
good enough marker of the eastern boundary of the great central
grasslands. Conversely, some fairly large forested tracts have long
existed east of the great river, where the simple version of the law
says they shouldn't have. Madson states it all much more clearly and
precisely in "Where the Sky Begins", as have many other before and
since, but then, they've also all used a lot more pages than me.....so
far.
We add a little sour cream, and vary the brats with some finer grained
sausage whose name escapes me.

A very malleable meal. Sour cream sounds like a good addition, and
there are many sausages that would work well,

If the chestnut invite extends to my clumsy hands, a few this way
would be welcome for another attempt.

I kinda figured you'd like to have another whack at it.

I'll put out some sort of formal notice in a month or two. Remind me.

Wolfgang
*pascal was making a philosoophical point, not discoursing on
probabilities.

On Nov 15, 2:59*pm, Giles wrote:
On Nov 15, 1:11*pm, DaveS wrote:

Well it looks like your move progresses.

The actual move is now complete. *All that remains is the trifling
matter of entirely reorganizing a life along hitherto unimagined
lines. *But, I bought a new chainsaw today.....the rest should be easy
enough.

Keep posting this stuff, it
is good for the soul.

The posting is good enough for one soul, one which has already
received a considerable boost from the change that inspired it. *If it
does another any good, so much the better.

I was told years ago that taking care of trees
and repairing the land is what men are supposed to do in later life.

I know I've posted it here before, but it bears repeating. *There is
an old Greek proverb that says a society grows great when its old men
plant trees whose shade they know they will never sit in. *The old
Greeks never understood women.....undoubtedly never cared to.....but
it may safely be said that the gender specificity of the old Greek
proverb should probably not be taken too seriously. *In any case, true
as it is in a literal sense, there is a deeper and more important
underlying truth in this expression that should not need to be
explained to anyone.....and that's about as good an encapsulation of
what is wrong with the world today (as in every other age) as anyone
should ever need. *On the other hand, grasses, shrubs, frogs and
fishes are pretty nice too.

And then there is that French tale of deep regeneration that has
influenced so many to plant trees.

I am not familiar with that tale.

Or honoring the creation as some
Christians put it

Ah, well, when you bring the Christians (or any other religious cult)
into it, that changes the complexion of things considerably. *All one
need do in such a case is remember that all of them habitually invoke
Pascal's wager, blissfully unaware the Pascal was no fool......but
they are.*

Anyway, good stuff.

Thank you.

This discussion of grasses and forbs grabs my attention: Per the East
is long/West is shorter idea. I am not so sure that same applies West
of the Rocky's. Ive got 4 foot high clumps of Blue Wheat Grass (a
native) all over my place on the Palouse, and it and some others Ive
yet to ID are all over the High Steppe.

The same natural laws apply everywhere in the known universe.

Maybe the water regime changes
on the West side of the Bitterroot?

Exactly. *The laws don't change. *The conditions they describe and
apply to do. *Tall grasses in the east and short in the west is a
description of prevailing conditions in the great grasslands of
central North America, largely as a result of the rain shadow of the
western mountain chains.....principally the Rockies, but also the
lesser chains to the west....and the ever increasing effects of huge
moist air masses coming up from the Gulf of Mexico as one moves
further east. *The same laws, again, apply further west, between the
mountain ranges, but their effects are not as great (for a number of
reasons), and they are also doubtless complicated by other factors.
Even within the great grasslands, and beyond their generally
recognized margins, local conditions can overpower the effects of the
Rocikes and the Gulf. *In post colonial times, emigrants found prairie
outliers in western Pennsylvania and eastern Ohio, as well as in
Kentucky.....all of which are far east of the Mississippi, which is a
good enough marker of the eastern boundary of the great central
grasslands. *Conversely, some fairly large forested tracts have long
existed east of the great river, where the simple version of the law
says they shouldn't have. *Madson states it all much more clearly and
precisely in "Where the Sky Begins", as have many other before and
since, but then, they've also all used a lot more pages than me.....so
far.

We add a little sour cream, and vary the brats with some finer grained
sausage whose name escapes me.

A very malleable meal. *Sour cream sounds like a good addition, and
there are many sausages that would work well,

If the chestnut invite extends to my clumsy hands, a few this way
would be welcome for another attempt.

I kinda figured you'd like to have another whack at it. * * * *

I'll put out some sort of formal notice in a month or two. *Remind me.

Wolfgang
*pascal was making a philosoophical point, not discoursing on
probabilities.

Interesting. In Western Wa. there are some surviving mini grasslands
called "prairies." The typical explanation says that the Native
Americans kept these places open via periodic burnings, and used same
as horse grass way-stops along trade trails thru the forest. One such
trail, a Northern branch of the transcontinental "Great Road," met the
sal****er on the delta of the Nisqually River, where the Brits set up
their post. I believe research on trade trails and horse movement
along same could explain more of them.

Dave