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Dreaming about Dreamtime
May. 8th, 2021 18:09Sometimes I swear my brain is watching alternate-universe TV when I'm asleep.
( A peek at a Marvel production that hasn't been made )
( A peek at a Marvel production that hasn't been made )
Not quite a soft landing
Mar. 4th, 2021 15:31It's my first full day at Three Creeks. Once again, while landing is getting easier, it's not yet easy.
( Waterworks, again )
( Waterworks, again )
Logistics: scenarios
Feb. 27th, 2021 11:19Okay, here's the "possible moving scenarios" post. So much is undetermined, or flexible, or just plain unpredictable, that I'm going to try to lay out the possibilities.
( One, two, buckle my shoe )
( One, two, buckle my shoe )
Let the lists commence
Feb. 26th, 2021 15:24Time for some serious planning.
This is the "things I need to consider when I move" post. There is a different one for the constellation of potential moving plans.
( Stuff I need to do to transfer myself neatly )
This is the "things I need to consider when I move" post. There is a different one for the constellation of potential moving plans.
( Stuff I need to do to transfer myself neatly )
From Facebook (June 20, 2019):
In a similar vein, I've been trying to read the Verge article about the working conditions for Facebook moderators, and I have to take it in small bits. The situation is so horrific, and tragic, and as hard to grasp as photos of a neighborhood you used to know after a bomb attack. The sheer *damage* being done to these people, whether they realize it or not, is unbearable for an empathetic person to witness.
The issue of online content moderation is one of the most difficult the internet has ever had to grapple with. On the one side, you have the sewer of unspeakable human filth being given space and air like it never has before.... and on the other, you have a thin line of ordinary people given no special training, who are expected to wade through that corrosive, soul-crushing material unscathed. It's like the infantry in WWI, sent up over the wall to be mowed down by the machine guns. The toll in sanity and actual human lives is mounting, and very few people in charge seem to notice or care.
Most online communities can't afford more than a token staff for moderation, and rely on automated scripts, which are notoriously easy to manipulate; look at the FB Real Names policy, or the Tumblr "skin tones test". While machines can't be emotionally scarred by what they witness, they are not even close to being able to make real judgment calls. But when the company actually tries to expand its moderation staff, it's treated as unskilled tech labor, because any monkey can press a "takedown" button.
We need protections for moderation staff. We need these posts to be skilled positions requiring real training and support. The job needs to come with perks like flexible breaks and personal time, and stress-management devices (break rooms, games, counselors, massages, whatever), like other high-stress jobs have. The training needs to be developed by psychiatric professionals (like the ones who evaluate astronauts for long-term space missions like Mars) to give staff the tools they need to cope with the material they come in contact with every day. It is possible to encounter traumatic and horrible scenes regularly and still cope -- emergency rescue and ER personnel do it, as do mental health professionals who handle severe cases. But it takes a certain kind of person, and specific training, if they are to walk away able to shake it off most of the time.
I am under no illusions: the companies who need moderation will not provide these things. Congress won't pay any attention. The best leverage to get this kind of change is probably (gasp) a union. But whatever happens going forward, the current model is unsustainable, and the psychic toll we're putting on these people is unconscionable.
In a similar vein, I've been trying to read the Verge article about the working conditions for Facebook moderators, and I have to take it in small bits. The situation is so horrific, and tragic, and as hard to grasp as photos of a neighborhood you used to know after a bomb attack. The sheer *damage* being done to these people, whether they realize it or not, is unbearable for an empathetic person to witness.
The issue of online content moderation is one of the most difficult the internet has ever had to grapple with. On the one side, you have the sewer of unspeakable human filth being given space and air like it never has before.... and on the other, you have a thin line of ordinary people given no special training, who are expected to wade through that corrosive, soul-crushing material unscathed. It's like the infantry in WWI, sent up over the wall to be mowed down by the machine guns. The toll in sanity and actual human lives is mounting, and very few people in charge seem to notice or care.
Most online communities can't afford more than a token staff for moderation, and rely on automated scripts, which are notoriously easy to manipulate; look at the FB Real Names policy, or the Tumblr "skin tones test". While machines can't be emotionally scarred by what they witness, they are not even close to being able to make real judgment calls. But when the company actually tries to expand its moderation staff, it's treated as unskilled tech labor, because any monkey can press a "takedown" button.
We need protections for moderation staff. We need these posts to be skilled positions requiring real training and support. The job needs to come with perks like flexible breaks and personal time, and stress-management devices (break rooms, games, counselors, massages, whatever), like other high-stress jobs have. The training needs to be developed by psychiatric professionals (like the ones who evaluate astronauts for long-term space missions like Mars) to give staff the tools they need to cope with the material they come in contact with every day. It is possible to encounter traumatic and horrible scenes regularly and still cope -- emergency rescue and ER personnel do it, as do mental health professionals who handle severe cases. But it takes a certain kind of person, and specific training, if they are to walk away able to shake it off most of the time.
I am under no illusions: the companies who need moderation will not provide these things. Congress won't pay any attention. The best leverage to get this kind of change is probably (gasp) a union. But whatever happens going forward, the current model is unsustainable, and the psychic toll we're putting on these people is unconscionable.
My mom made an observation the other day about why we find shawls frustrating. It's not that other people just overlook their tendency to bunch up around the neck and bind around the arms -- it's that other people have sloped shoulders. She and I don't. Shawls assume a slope between the neck and the arm to let them drape properly.
Oh.
( Noodling about bad weather gear )
Oh.
( Noodling about bad weather gear )
Seven years
Dec. 23rd, 2020 00:49The cycle continues. At least approximately.
Six years ago I went through redefinition, including a new personality and a new view of my gender.
Seven years before that I went to Burning Man for the first time, and met The Man.
Seven years before that I moved home after my chemical injury.
Seven years before that I graduated high school.
...
The period between high school and the chemical injury was tumultuous, but my health problems really started with the stress of college, and everything else -- coming home, failing to thrive, my first identity crisis, having to stop working -- came from that. That was who I was at that time, and high school me was shocked and devastated because there was no way I could have envisioned that kind of disaster out of my bright hopes for the future.
The chemical injury remade my world again, into something I probably wouldn't fully recover from, and I decided to make the most of what I had. I tried getting involved again, went back to school, and fought against my disability every step of the way. That was the way life was, and was going to be.
And then The Man happened. From the first sense of swelling immensity in my soul, to going back again because it felt like the wood might speak to me, to having its words tear my world open over, and over, and over. I let my black beast loose because The Man said so, though I was certain it was nuts. I learned to drop my armor because of what The Man said. I learned courage, and beauty, and how to discover who I was.
Without that guidance, I would never have lost my grip on my sense of self. I would never have been able to build a new person to replace it, and have the courage to embrace my reality and pin it with labels which don't fit the outside world. I spent several years just getting to know Sam, and settling into what my gender and sexuality actually mean.
And in a year, I'll be about to move away from the place I thought I would grow old, to a new place which will shape me as surely as I will shape it. A place I need, which needs me. And I will become someone I never envisioned, again. I've had a few glimpses, but I can't see what the full reality will look like.
In 2028-29, several of my older relatives will be at the end of their lives; I wonder whether that will be the next big shift, and how it will change me in ways I can't predict. Or perhaps it will be someone new, or some new direction. All I know is that I can't see there from here.
Seven years.
Six years ago I went through redefinition, including a new personality and a new view of my gender.
Seven years before that I went to Burning Man for the first time, and met The Man.
Seven years before that I moved home after my chemical injury.
Seven years before that I graduated high school.
...
The period between high school and the chemical injury was tumultuous, but my health problems really started with the stress of college, and everything else -- coming home, failing to thrive, my first identity crisis, having to stop working -- came from that. That was who I was at that time, and high school me was shocked and devastated because there was no way I could have envisioned that kind of disaster out of my bright hopes for the future.
The chemical injury remade my world again, into something I probably wouldn't fully recover from, and I decided to make the most of what I had. I tried getting involved again, went back to school, and fought against my disability every step of the way. That was the way life was, and was going to be.
And then The Man happened. From the first sense of swelling immensity in my soul, to going back again because it felt like the wood might speak to me, to having its words tear my world open over, and over, and over. I let my black beast loose because The Man said so, though I was certain it was nuts. I learned to drop my armor because of what The Man said. I learned courage, and beauty, and how to discover who I was.
Without that guidance, I would never have lost my grip on my sense of self. I would never have been able to build a new person to replace it, and have the courage to embrace my reality and pin it with labels which don't fit the outside world. I spent several years just getting to know Sam, and settling into what my gender and sexuality actually mean.
And in a year, I'll be about to move away from the place I thought I would grow old, to a new place which will shape me as surely as I will shape it. A place I need, which needs me. And I will become someone I never envisioned, again. I've had a few glimpses, but I can't see what the full reality will look like.
In 2028-29, several of my older relatives will be at the end of their lives; I wonder whether that will be the next big shift, and how it will change me in ways I can't predict. Or perhaps it will be someone new, or some new direction. All I know is that I can't see there from here.
Seven years.
Using what we have: fiber
Dec. 15th, 2020 14:44I was looking into flax again (I do still want to experiment with growing it, the area between the garden and the creek would be ideal if I can get the weeds under control), and I also received a package of roving mill ends that had a little packet of "rose fiber", and that got me thinking. Once I collect the tools for processing bast fibers like flax, how many fibers could I seek out at Three Creeks?
- Nettles are a classic, and we have a great many, though they don't grow densely. Collecting them over the course of a few years would probably make sense.
- Pacific blackberry, that living barbed wire, which grows to lengths of twenty or thirty feet.
- Himalayan blackberry, though its fibers may be coarser... might as well use it anyway!
- Scotch broom is not on the property, but it's easy enough to find down the hill.
- Bamboo... I am not willing to introduce it except possibly in an old bathtub or similar, but there may be some in the valley I can experiment with.
- Cattail? Usually the leaves are used for cordage and baskets, but they might yield good fiber. Also the stalks.
- Milkweed can offer both bast fibers and down.
- Knotweed! Hopefully the Japanese knotweed is on its way out by the edge of the lawn, but the giant knotweed (Polygonum sachalinense) is still beyond the fence, and with a height of 10-12 feet, it should have no shortage of long fibers.
--- I should also consider freezing the leaves as a spinach alternative (if I don't want to dedicate garden space to spinach), and the dead dry stalks can be used for fuel, or at least kindling.
- Maybe Canada thistle? It grows as tall as flax when left to itself, and doesn't branch much at all. And heaven knows it's wiry enough.
- I should check out tansy ragwort, which grows in profusion in the valley, though it may branch too much.
- Moth mullein, now that I know how tall it can grow in the right conditions. It is reportedly insecticidal as well.
- Bamboo grass certainly cuts the hands of the unwary, might be worth it for cordage or twine if not finer goods.
- Sunflowers or Jerusalem artichokes... small varieties might be best.
- Fern fronds? I should take one apart to see how the fibers are.
One note: thick-stemmed plants (knotweed, sunflower, maybe even Himalayan blackberry, nettle, and cattail stem) can require long retting times, so splitting/peeling them first might be wise.
Apparently flax tow can be used for paper, and someone on a forum suggested making it with knotweed, so I suspect most of these could also be used. It's one good use for the tow, along with spinning it for twine, candle wicks, and coarse cloth/canvas/burlap.
Huh... Milkweed fluff might be carded and spun like cotton or tow. Or this:
"If you really want to "test the primitive waters" I would suggest harvesting a basket full of milkweed seed pods while they are still green. One at a time split them open and begin rolling the white filament between your thumb and index finger discarding the seed. Keep adding to the "thread" to increase the length. Milkweed sap is very much like glue that will help stick the white filaments together. One pod will make a thread of extreme length. With practice it is possible to produce a fairly heavy thread. Milkweed "twine" is extremely strong. Native Americans used this thread for sewing hides to make clothing and footwear. The heavier thread was also used to bind flint knife blades to handles and flint points to arrows etc."
Since plant fibers can be stored dry for years, either retted or not, it may be worth collecting and experimenting over time.
- Nettles are a classic, and we have a great many, though they don't grow densely. Collecting them over the course of a few years would probably make sense.
- Pacific blackberry, that living barbed wire, which grows to lengths of twenty or thirty feet.
- Himalayan blackberry, though its fibers may be coarser... might as well use it anyway!
- Scotch broom is not on the property, but it's easy enough to find down the hill.
- Bamboo... I am not willing to introduce it except possibly in an old bathtub or similar, but there may be some in the valley I can experiment with.
- Cattail? Usually the leaves are used for cordage and baskets, but they might yield good fiber. Also the stalks.
- Milkweed can offer both bast fibers and down.
- Knotweed! Hopefully the Japanese knotweed is on its way out by the edge of the lawn, but the giant knotweed (Polygonum sachalinense) is still beyond the fence, and with a height of 10-12 feet, it should have no shortage of long fibers.
--- I should also consider freezing the leaves as a spinach alternative (if I don't want to dedicate garden space to spinach), and the dead dry stalks can be used for fuel, or at least kindling.
- Maybe Canada thistle? It grows as tall as flax when left to itself, and doesn't branch much at all. And heaven knows it's wiry enough.
- I should check out tansy ragwort, which grows in profusion in the valley, though it may branch too much.
- Moth mullein, now that I know how tall it can grow in the right conditions. It is reportedly insecticidal as well.
- Bamboo grass certainly cuts the hands of the unwary, might be worth it for cordage or twine if not finer goods.
- Sunflowers or Jerusalem artichokes... small varieties might be best.
- Fern fronds? I should take one apart to see how the fibers are.
One note: thick-stemmed plants (knotweed, sunflower, maybe even Himalayan blackberry, nettle, and cattail stem) can require long retting times, so splitting/peeling them first might be wise.
Apparently flax tow can be used for paper, and someone on a forum suggested making it with knotweed, so I suspect most of these could also be used. It's one good use for the tow, along with spinning it for twine, candle wicks, and coarse cloth/canvas/burlap.
Huh... Milkweed fluff might be carded and spun like cotton or tow. Or this:
"If you really want to "test the primitive waters" I would suggest harvesting a basket full of milkweed seed pods while they are still green. One at a time split them open and begin rolling the white filament between your thumb and index finger discarding the seed. Keep adding to the "thread" to increase the length. Milkweed sap is very much like glue that will help stick the white filaments together. One pod will make a thread of extreme length. With practice it is possible to produce a fairly heavy thread. Milkweed "twine" is extremely strong. Native Americans used this thread for sewing hides to make clothing and footwear. The heavier thread was also used to bind flint knife blades to handles and flint points to arrows etc."
Since plant fibers can be stored dry for years, either retted or not, it may be worth collecting and experimenting over time.
Social forces
Nov. 11th, 2020 21:46I'm going to define a couple of terms:
- "Hope" is the belief that it is possible to change life for the better
- "Empathy" is the ability to understand and identify with someone else's situation
Empathy without hope results in pity.
Hope without empathy results in violence.
Pity begets inaction, or action consistent with the status quo (throwing a few coins in a panhandler's hat).
Violence begets action, from physical violence (attacks on others) to social violence (programs to "improve" the situation of vulnerable people which actually disadvantage them further).
We see both across the political spectrum. Right-wingers cluck about how poverty and drug abuse are inevitable; left-wingers wallow in liberal guilt. Left-wingers come up with all sorts of genius social programs without consulting those affected; right-wingers attempt to improve their own lives by attacking the "scum" and "criminals" dragging them down.
The path to real social justice has to include both hope and empathy, regardless of political affiliation. The trick is, how to instill hope for change, and empathy for others.
- "Hope" is the belief that it is possible to change life for the better
- "Empathy" is the ability to understand and identify with someone else's situation
Empathy without hope results in pity.
Hope without empathy results in violence.
Pity begets inaction, or action consistent with the status quo (throwing a few coins in a panhandler's hat).
Violence begets action, from physical violence (attacks on others) to social violence (programs to "improve" the situation of vulnerable people which actually disadvantage them further).
We see both across the political spectrum. Right-wingers cluck about how poverty and drug abuse are inevitable; left-wingers wallow in liberal guilt. Left-wingers come up with all sorts of genius social programs without consulting those affected; right-wingers attempt to improve their own lives by attacking the "scum" and "criminals" dragging them down.
The path to real social justice has to include both hope and empathy, regardless of political affiliation. The trick is, how to instill hope for change, and empathy for others.
Fade to black
Oct. 12th, 2020 10:20So of course the water was out again by the time I brushed my teeth before bed.
A peek at the filter housing this morning told me why: inside the clear plastic, it's simply black. I was naive to think I could carve out a big chunk of mud inside the screen and hook it right up to the house again. So I get to go up, clear the screen, siphon the water box, and then flush the pipes thoroughly, hoping we don't get another mudslide in the screen later.
I think, in future, I will plan on having the water off for 24 hours after a cleaning, and simply leave the screen dumping directly into the stream. Of course, I hope that in future there will be less and less silt to manage...
I should pick up some more replacement filter cartridges (I have one left). So much for a six-month cartridge life... this one lasted about ten hours.
A peek at the filter housing this morning told me why: inside the clear plastic, it's simply black. I was naive to think I could carve out a big chunk of mud inside the screen and hook it right up to the house again. So I get to go up, clear the screen, siphon the water box, and then flush the pipes thoroughly, hoping we don't get another mudslide in the screen later.
I think, in future, I will plan on having the water off for 24 hours after a cleaning, and simply leave the screen dumping directly into the stream. Of course, I hope that in future there will be less and less silt to manage...
I should pick up some more replacement filter cartridges (I have one left). So much for a six-month cartridge life... this one lasted about ten hours.
Water above, water below
Oct. 11th, 2020 14:07Today's weather started all right, then went from bad to worse.
Fortunately, I went out and dealt with the waterbox around midday, so by the time the wind picked up I was safely inside. It had been steadily drizzling all morning, which I didn't really mind; sure, my pants legs got soaked from hiking through the ferns, and my coat got damp, but it was still warm. And my boots are still waterproof up to the laces.
( Maintenance hatch )
Fortunately, I went out and dealt with the waterbox around midday, so by the time the wind picked up I was safely inside. It had been steadily drizzling all morning, which I didn't really mind; sure, my pants legs got soaked from hiking through the ferns, and my coat got damp, but it was still warm. And my boots are still waterproof up to the laces.
( Maintenance hatch )
They said you was hung
Oct. 7th, 2020 20:09Today I re-hung the back porch door at last.
( The door complete, no burn today, and small animals for $400 )
( The door complete, no burn today, and small animals for $400 )
Operation Feral: Success
Oct. 2nd, 2020 22:08I got up at 5am this morning to make breakfast, gather my things, and drive Other to Portland for his appointment. He is currently sleeping it off in the Annex, where no one is likely to disturb him but the occasional bat coming and going. He has his dinner, there's a pad under him, and he gets released in the morning.
( All fixed up and ready to go )
( All fixed up and ready to go )
Adventures in farm food
Sep. 30th, 2020 21:08It turns out that you can, indeed, make things with straight Aronia berries...
( Tasty fruit thingies )
( Tasty fruit thingies )
Warm weather and Other things
Sep. 28th, 2020 21:06I was very happy to see a little face peering at me from the hedge this morning.
Last night it occurred to me that I hadn't seen Other in some time. As I was climbing into bed I realized I hadn't heard him singing in close to a month. Yet someone was eating the cat food on the front porch, cleaning the bowl once and even twice a day. With a sinking feeling, I thought, what if we're feeding a coyote now, rather than the cat?
Coyotes do roam near here, and while Other is a quick and wary cat, coyotes get even the quick ones sometimes. I decided to scatter flour around the food bowl and see what tracks I got. By the time I went to let out the chickens (Jenny was busy writing a letter to mail when we headed to town this morning) the only tracks were those from the jay. But as I emerged from the garage, looking around for Only, there was this little round tabby face staring at me on the edge of the driveway.
( Good timing )
Last night it occurred to me that I hadn't seen Other in some time. As I was climbing into bed I realized I hadn't heard him singing in close to a month. Yet someone was eating the cat food on the front porch, cleaning the bowl once and even twice a day. With a sinking feeling, I thought, what if we're feeding a coyote now, rather than the cat?
Coyotes do roam near here, and while Other is a quick and wary cat, coyotes get even the quick ones sometimes. I decided to scatter flour around the food bowl and see what tracks I got. By the time I went to let out the chickens (Jenny was busy writing a letter to mail when we headed to town this morning) the only tracks were those from the jay. But as I emerged from the garage, looking around for Only, there was this little round tabby face staring at me on the edge of the driveway.
( Good timing )
Feats of clay
Sep. 22nd, 2020 15:59Every so often, I come into the living room and I find something new on the table by my chair. Sometimes it's a cartoon, or a couple of magnifiers, but often it's a book. A week ago it was "Your Out Of Control Ferret" (how to train a pet ferret), but today it was a book on making clay bread ovens.
( Cooking up some ideas )
( Cooking up some ideas )
