Chapter 18: In Which the Author Muses About Economic Theory

GDP or gross domestic product is the most common economic measure of a society's well-being and is defined as the total paid for goods and services by households in a country in a year. In other words, conventional economic wisdom is that a society that buys more and more and more stuff is a happy society, regardless of what that stuff is, how much stuff the society already has, or the real cost of all that consumption of stuff. In a recent article in Sojourners magazine, Herman Daly aptly said with regard to GDP:

GDP as we currently know it conflates benefits and costs as "economic activity," and that is what GDP measures -- how fast the wheels are turning, not where the car is going.

Moreover:

...GDP is ... the best index we have of the combined effects of pollution, depletion, congestion, and loss of biodiversity.
...
It is a measure of the damage we inflict on finite, non-growing creation in order to support more people at higher per capita levels of resource use.

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 1
Deer: 0
Towhees in the tree outside the kitchen window: 1

Question: What is the bird in the photograph?
Answer: A Turkey Vulture on Andros Island in the Bahamas. Beautiful wings, eh?

Question: Do you know any fun facts about Turkey Vultures?
Answer: Yup. That wing span can extend up to 72 inches; they can live 20 years in captivity; and their genus name means "purifier."  Turkey Vultures lack feathers on their heads to keep them guck-free.and medical researchers are studying them to determine how they stay healthy in spite of their diet.

A Natural History of Turning Off the Television

Those of you who read fantasy novels are familiar with objects that, when seen, transfix the hero. Even if the object appears at first glance to be innocent or even beautiful, its magic is malign and the result for the hero is generally bad -- a journey delayed, an important task undone, and an increase in sorrow and confusion.

I'm beginning to wonder if, for me at least, television isn't a rather maleficent transfixing object. It renders me motionless, causes me to delay or ignore work and play that is meaningful and enjoyable, and fills my head and heart with images, beliefs, and values that can be downright despicable. I end up both transfixed and enchanted -- and not in a good way.

So I've done the classic cartoon "wake up" head shake, grabbed the remote, and turned off the television for good. Goodbye Comcast, and good riddance to you!

Spring in January

Spring is in the air, at least momentarily. It's been downright luscious outside and everyone's looking a little younger, a little sleeker, a little more mischievous.

I took this picture of elderberry flowers last year and, as you might guess, more than tinkered with the color of the water. I'm generally agin' that sort of thing but I really liked the punch of the white flowers against the blue water and figured -- what the heck.

In honor of the intimations of spring outside, here's a poem by the most excellent Mary Oliver:

Spring

I lift my face to the pale flowers
of the rain. They're soft as linen,
clean as holy water. Meanwhile,
my dog runs off, noses down packed leaves
into damp, mysterious tunnels.
He says the smells are rising now
stiff and lively, he says the beasts
are waking up now full of oil,
sleep sweat, tag-ends of dreams. The rain
rubs its shining hands all over me.
My dog returns and barks fiercely, he says
each secret body is the richest advisor,
deep in the black earth such fuming
nuggets of joy!

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 0
Deer: 0

Farm Living is the Life for Me

In my photography class last quarter, a fellow student presented her beautiful and chilling photos of abandoned buildings in Detroit. What added to the impact of her images was her outrage that such needless waste and destruction could occur in the United States. A conservative estimate is that Detroit contains 40 square miles of abandoned land.

Much to my delight, I found out that urban planners and others with the power to make change happen are concluding that this land might best be used for ...(I bet you can't guess) ... urban farming! Let me say that again: U-R-B-A-N F-A-R-M-I-N-G. In D-E-T-R-O-I-T. Detroit, Michigan. Motor City. Motown.

For some reason, that concept fills me with joy.

Which makes me think of a book I read this summer with a similar theme, albeit on a smaller scale. Novella Carpenter's enjoyable book Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer describes her experiences growing chickens, turkeys, gees, ducks, rabbits, bees, and vegetables on a what had been a garbage-covered, weed-choked abandoned lot in Oakland, California.

I recommend her book, along with a shiny new magazine on the subject: Urban Farm: Sustainable City Living. The latest issue includes articles on city-centric approaches to composting, year-round food growing, chickens, and the ever-popular topic of dealing with neighbors and City Fathers/Mothers who think Green Acres is for the birds.

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 8 (all the teenagers and 1 mama)
Deer: 3

You Say Raccoon, I Say Aroughcoune

This is a photo of one of our raccoon teenagers, taken while she was eating a snack this morning. The name "raccoon" comes from the Algonquian word aroughcoune, which means "he who scratches with his hands." The kits are spending less and less time with their mamas and we expect that come spring they'll wander off to seek their place in the larger world.

I frequently joke that I should have been a zoology major but in reality I almost always find natural history boring compared to the lovely jolt of actually encountering a wild animal face to face.

And apropos of nothing except the fact that it amused me, here's quote from Annie Dillard's sublime book, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek:

I wake up thinking: What am I reading? What will I read next? I'm terrified that I'll run out, that I will read through all I want to, and be forced to learn wildflowers at last, to keep awake.

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons:
Morning: 2 teenagers
Evening: 4 teenagers
Deer: 0

Twig Shakes and a P.S. to Brother Pat

Back to the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge today -- foggy, showery, very few people, everything gold/gray/maroon/brown. Beautiful. Very quiet except for bird calls and rain dripping from leaves. Spring is thinking about springing though. The California Hazelnut shrubs are flowering (as fellow hay fever sufferers may already be aware) and new green grass shoots were everywhere we looked.

I took this photo of a Great Blue Heron hunting in the marsh. I was amused to read in The Birder's Handbook: A Field Guide to the Natural History of North American Birds the following description of the courtship display of male Great Blue Herons: "neck stretch and fluff, circle flight, twig shake." What girl can resist a good twig shake?

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons:
Morning: 2 teenagers
Evening: all 7 teenagers
Deer: 0

P.S. to Pat Robertson: Dear Pat, what are we going to do with your bad theology, your hard heart,and your big mouth? Here's what I suggest. Put U2's How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb on your iPod, scroll to the song "Yahweh," put the volume on max, and hit "play." Listen to what brother Bono is asking God. I particularly commend to you the following lines:

Take these hands
Teach them what to carry
Take these hands
Don't make a fist
Take this mouth
So quick to criticize
Take this mouth
Give it a kiss
...
Take this heart
Take this heart
Take this heart
And make it break

Repeat as necessary until you fall on your knees and weep for Haiti and its people.

Haiti and the Opposite of Consumption

This photo was taken just south of Taholah, Washington on the Quinault Indian Reservation. On the day I took the photo, two members of the Quinault Indian Nation saw us taking photographs of seagulls, struck up a conversation, and generously offered us an opportunity to walk on a restricted tribal beach. We very much appreciated their kindness.

Today I've been pondering the situation in Haiti and the disparate economic conditions of Haiti and its neighbor, the United States. This quote from Raj Patel's excellent book, The Value of Nothing: How to Reshape Market Society and Redefine Democracy, struck me as pertinent:

In many North American indigenous cultures, generosity is a central behavior in a broader social and economic system. One anecdotal account examined what happened when boys from white and Lakota communities received a pair of lollipops each. Both sets of boys put the first one straight in their mouths. The white boys put the second one in their pockets, while the Native American boys presented it to the nearest boy who didn't have one. It's not surprising to see that culture can shape how resources are accumulated and distributed, and dictate the social priority of saving over sharing, but the experiment also reminds is that the opposite of consumption isn't thrift -- it's generosity.

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons:
AM: 4 (Old Tailless Guy and Not-so-Crabby Mama's 3 teenagers)
PM: 9 (both mamas and all 7 teenagers)
Deer: 0

Deer Stories #1

Here's one of the does, waiting for grain last Sunday morning.

A few years ago we had an unusually long cold spell with snow on the ground so for several weeks we had more deer in our yard than usual. One of the deer families consisted of a mama doe, her sister or oldest daughter, and the mama doe's teenagers -- a doe and a buck.

The three does were placid and friendly but we nicknamed the buck "Brat Boy" in honor of his rambunctious behavior - swatting his sister with his hooves, dumping the food bowl over, galloping around in circles, and generally making a nuisance of himself. Eventually the snow melted and the little family wandered off to their summer abode.

The following autumn, I came home from work one evening at twilight, pulled into the driveway, got out of the car, and turned my back to the front of the house while I got packages out of the car. I heard a snort behind me, turned around, and in the dim light saw the shapes of six or seven deer standing together on the lawn. As my eyes focused, I realized that the snort had come from the largest and most beautiful of the deer -- a deer who was standing about six feet behind me and who had elegant antlers. The large deer was Brat Boy, come back for one more visit, politely asking for grain for his harem. It was wonderful to see him again, all grown up and full of dignity.

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 0
Deer: 0

A Place to Overwinter

We spent the afternoon at the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge, watching swans, hawks, eagles, and waterfowl of all sorts. Our best guess, after poring through the Sibley Guide to Birds and the Smithsonian's Birds of North America, is that this handsome bird is a juvenile Red-Tailed Hawk. The refuge is located on the Washington side of the Columbia River, north of Vancouver.

In addition to gorgeous grassland and wetland scenery, and more birds than you can imagine, the area is also home to what used to be Cathlapotle Village -- a Chinook village that Lewis and Clark visited on their way to and from Fort Clatsop. For your amusement, here is a quote from Capt. William Clark's journal, dated November 5, 1805, describing a night at what is now the Ridgefield NWR:

I slept but very little last night for the noise kept up during the whole of the night by the swans, geese...brant [and] ducks on a small sand island...they were immensley numerous and their noise horrid.

(Captain Clark had many strengths but spelling was not one of them.)

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 6 (Old Tailless Guy, his Little Woman, Not-so-Crabby Mama's 4 teenagers)
Deer: 3 (the 3 does).
Natural history note: Since the 4 teenagers' mama wasn't present this morning, the youngest doe spent a considerable amount of time standing quite close to them, observing their goings-on with deep interest.

Eagle Eye

Today was a glorious day at the Nisqually Wildlife Refuge. Here are some facts and figures about this magical place:

The Refuge provides nesting and resting areas for wading birds, raptors, songbirds and migratory waterfowl on 3000 acres of salt and freshwater marshes, grasslands, riparian, and mixed forest habitats. Over 175 species of birds have been identified at the Refuge and during the spring migration 20,000 ducks and 300 geese find food, shelter and water there. The Refuge has recently worked to restore the historic estuary by breaching century old dikes and reconnecting the area with Puget Sound.

This photo shows one of 4 adult eagles we saw keeping guard in the willows, accompanied by 5 or 6 completely brown juveniles. While we were there, several flocks of Lesser Canada Geese flew in, circling and honking, then landing and feeding. They spend January and February at the refuge, fattening up before they migrate north in the spring. It was such a beautiful day and the exhibition was so amazing that I wish we'd had lawn chairs, fleece blankets, and couple of thermoses of hot chocolate.

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 9 (both mamas and all of their 7 playful teenagers)
Deer: 3 (two adult does and a teenager)

Encouragement Along the Way

"Sometimes" by Sheenagh Pugh

Sometimes things don't go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost, green thrives, the crops don't fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war,
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough that they can't leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.

Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.

Good poem, eh?

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 9 (both families - 2 mamas, 7 teenagers)
Deer: 5 (two families, all does)

6 a.m. - Muttley in the Morning

Having Muttley the Dog has brought a whole new level of structure to my life, including the requirement to get up pretty darned early in the morning to take him out. I've seen more sunrises in the last year than in all my prior years put together.

But that's what love does, I guess. Pre-dawn walks with Muttley are a teeny tiny example of what Viktor Frankl said:

Those who have a "why" to live, can bear with almost any "how."

Including getting up early.

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 4 (Crabby Mama and her 3 teenagers).
Deer: 3 (a doe and two yearlings)

A Final Thought on the Pleasures of Inefficiency

A few weeks ago our electric coffee grinder died of natural causes at an extremely advanced age. In dire need of a substitute until we could get to our local MegaLoMart to buy another electric grinder, we decided to try my grandparents' ancient hand-cranked grinder.

We fully expected that use of the ancient grinder would cause large amounts of boredom, irritation, and grumpiness.

Boy were we wrong. Even though the grinder is old and worn, the wood and decorated cast iron are beautiful to look at and fun to handle. The fragrance of the beans fills the kitchen because there's no sealed lid on the top. Grinding coffee now takes a bit more time but the whole experience is so pleasurable that the added time feels more like a treasured ritual than like a chore.

We no longer plan to buy another electric grinder.

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 4 (Crabby Mama and her 3 teenagers)
Deer: 0

A Bit More on the Potential Pleasures of Inefficiency

I love this quote from The Manifesto on the Future of Food, quoted by Carlo Petrini in his wonderful book Slow Food Nation: Why Our Food Should Be Good, Clean, and Fair:

The entire conversion from local small-scale food production for local communities, to large-scale export-oriented monocultural production has also brought the melancholy decline in of the traditions, cultures, and cooperative pleasures and convivialities associated for centuries with community based production and markets, thereby diminishing the experience of direct food-growing, and the long celebrated joys of sharing food grown by local hands from local lands.

Question: Which feels better, shopping at the local farmers market or shopping at the local SuperMegaloMart? Why?

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 5 (Not-so-Crabby Mama and her 4 teenagers)
Deer: 0

A Cynic Knows the Price of Everything and the Value of Nothing (Oscar Wilde)

Since mid-summer, our twice-daily walks with Muttley the Dog have taken place in the Big Woods behind our house, rather than on the rural, gravel road where we had previously walked. This morning, as Muttley and I were meandering slowly down a deer-made path to one of the cedar groves, I reflected on the differences between the two sorts of walks. Rural gravel roads are nice enough -- trees line the road, the horses in the nearby corral are generally good for a laugh, and sometimes passing neighbors stop for a friendly chat. But a walk in the Big Woods is an entirely different level of experience. Winding paths with an uneven tread require a slow, deliberate pace (unless you enjoy ending up face down in the leaves) and that slow pace allows time for the environment to make itself known. There's time to notice edible Chanterelles a hundred yards from the back door and red-topped toadstools straight out of a fairy tale. There's time to stand still and hear the raindrops hitting the maple leaves and to notice that the ground is almost always bone dry under the cedar trees. There's time to see where the raccoon trails go and the locations of the Douglas Fir cone middens where squirrels sit to strip the seeds from the cones.

The distinction between the two sorts of walks got me thinking about a recent comment from a dear friend that Wal-Mart and the other big box stores might be good because they're efficient and everything costs less. I wonder. Are price and efficiency really the only pertinent considerations? Or is it worth asking what sorts of goods Wal-Mart and the other big box stores sell? Are their products beautiful, functional, and long-lasting? Where do those products come from? What does it cost the planet to make those goods and ship them around the globe? Are company employees paid a living wage? Do they receive decent health benefits? Do company profits enrich the local community? Are communities healthier and more vibrant before or after the big box store moves in?

Could it be that patronizing the big box stores is akin to striding efficiently down the straight, flat, sterile gravel road, missing all the sounds, the smells, the twists and turns of the un-roaded Big Woods? Is true value being sacrificed in the name of price -- is there greater pleasure elsewhere?

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 5 (Crabby Mama and her 3 teenagers; the New Guy)
Deer: 0