Fermentation Experimentation (on Baba's Magic Rocks)

I’ve started this entry after work, by the light of the Blue Moon. I almost feel like howling at it as I sip and sample a rather large glass of the mead that I brewed last year. Tonight marks the beginning of having another stretch of days off before the better part of this summer slips away; ones in which at least the sky won’t be a dull grey haze, and the air won’t be loaded with smoke like the last stretch of time off.

One of the first things that I’ll be indulging in with that time is preparing and eating some decent food. There are enough moments when I’m involved in the Iron Chef challenge at work, but I’m still limited by their menus and the lack of ingredients, or the crap ingredients I find there, so I’m never able to make the stuff that I really want. I have a bit of a reputation in my circles as being a bit of a food rebel (believe it or not). I don’t allow myself to be restricted by recipes very much. Time off means I get to bend the needle into that zone again with ingredients I really want, but then again there are still limits. More on this tomorrow.

Aug 1st, Mid-afternoon

My time off runs into a phase when I’m in the middle of a brewing project. So, I’m sticking around home for the first few days to tend to it before I act on any impulses to leave town. It’s also the time of the year when somehow the rural instinct in me from my early upbringing is aroused, and I become tuned into crafting some preserves, pickles, and doing other folksy kinds of canning projects. I’m also on a kick now to make a mindful effort to eat more (locally grown) vegetables. It’s a good time to do it because now that late summer is approaching, more local fare is available at the Farmer’s Market. As much as I would enjoy my time off by hyper-utilizing my propane grill to barbeque all the meat that I can lay my hands on, the price of it lately has skyrocketed considerably: this drought we are having is the excuse for that. Imported fruit produce is costing more too because of our devalued dollar. I’m also trying to heal my legs again, so my running progress has regressed, and I’m not burning off the same amount of calories as I usually would at this time of year. Eating more veggies and less energy dense food like meat and carbs/fructose may be the remedy. I’m trying not to feel deprived, so I’m preparing my greens and veggies in the ways I like eating them. Eating them raw/marinated, or having pickles or sauerkraut are my favourite ways to intake vegetable matter. So I’m focusing on this.

I got lucky recently after taking a random tour through one of the Asian grocery stores* here in

My new baby, who's ready to get
down to business.

town, and found an amazing fermentation jar: the same kind used by Koreans to make kimchi. This one was the perfect size for my needs. It is enamelled earthenware crockery, and it was dirt cheap too: a real bargain, costing less than a quarter of similar ones I was looking at while browsing online. Other fermentation crocks I’ve spotted in yard sales start at ridiculously high prices too because they are sold as “antiques”. I thought it would be a great investment for experimenting and making my own lacto-fermented pickles and, more importantly, for brewing sauerkraut**. So there I was, excitedly hauling it over to their till: a crackpot with crockpot. I won’t go broke now buying what is considered as delicatessen food at a hyper inflated prices. I can make my own now at will. Nostalgia also was the driver, probably the most pressing one, for me to get this thing. Homemade sauerkraut, like the stuff I was raised on, tastes the best.

However, I have the humbling and disappointing realization that I won’t ever be making the best that there is or ever was, because I will be lacking one especially crucial element for brewing up the perfect sauerkraut. That would be . . . my Baba’s magic rocks. My Ukrainian grandmother’s sauerkraut, in my mind, was the best that there ever was. It wasn't delicious because of any sort of special ingredient she added. Only salt and shredded cabbage were used. It was delicious because of the special rocks she used in the process. Traditionally, or at least as it was in her tradition, rocks were placed on top of the shredded cabbage to keep it submerged and compressed in the brewing vessel in such a way that the bacterial culture that makes this stuff does its job right. The magic power was in those rocks! The more scientific explanation is that the pores in those rocks harboured the lactobacillus microbes, which used whatever mineral matrix that is in those stones to direct their particular course of evolution through natural selection after several generations of replication. The fittest ones that could exploit those minerals, and withstood being immersed in the salt and that specific pH level that a crock full of raw cabbage has, out-competed and out-performed all other strains; and the inferior ones then died off and disappeared. The result is a dominant, unique strain of anaerobic bacteria which was thus optimally mutated for making and imparting that lovely signature flavouring. In essence, that particular kind of rock is a micro-biome, and my grandmother was lucky enough to find the perfect ones to allow this kind of goodness to happen. It's easier just to say that those rocks are magical.

It’s kind of like the same concept of how artisan cheeses from Europe can only be made and found in one special unique place, because of some certain breed of cow eating a specific plant that only grows in some particular valley, which then flavours the milk fat, which then makes the curds that are pressed and then cellared and aged in some cave which has its own unique microbial environment that is found nowhere else on Earth. Replicating stuff like this elsewhere becomes nearly impossible, even in lab conditions. Fermented stuff is special in another way. Such food stuffs are given more of an opportunity than regular food to affix some special cultural identity: e.g. milk is ubiquitous, but things like skyr, an Icelandic cultured dairy product, is something very unique. It’s not really cheese, and not really yogurt because of its unique microbial culture profile. It was probably made entirely by accident during the first part of human settlement there a over thousand years ago, when some microscopic gollywobs native to that island probably shot out from the bowels of the Earth through one of their geysers, and plopped into an open pail of milk, and then someone dared themselves to consume it. It doesn’t get much more elemental than that. It is only cultured and made there, and not readily available anywhere else beyond Scandinavia. Icelanders are probably very proud to call this stuff their own, as it is a part of their culinary tradition and no one else’s. Belgian beer is another example. Rather than conforming to the rigid standards of having antiseptic conditions for brewing within a closed system, the beer in some places in that country is brewed in open vats, and the windows of the brewery are opened to allow the natural wild yeasts, pollens, and other God-only-knows-what particles (like dust falling off from the overhanging cobwebs) to blow in and ferment and flavour the wort. The resulting beer, like it or not, can’t be replicated in a test lab, and can only be made in Belgium. If the technique was tried somewhere else, it would never be exactly that same kind of beer, because nowhere else except that specific area of Belgium has that particular environmental signature. This is what the French call terroir: the characteristic flavourings in wine and other cultured foods and produce that is a direct result of the elements and environment that they were produced in. In the case of Baba’s rocks though, I would imagine and guess that the proper French term could probably be called pierroir*** since the unique culturing conditions stem from a stone.

After my grandmother died, my Mom became the keeper of the sacred magic kraut stones, and she still uses them to make our family’s sauerkraut. It’s a little milder than I remember what Baba’s was, but it is still kick-ass stuff; with that same unique signature aroma and notes of flavour that I can’t describe. Back in the university days, when we received care packages from home, the roommates I had would tie into the jars of my Mom’s sauerkraut, and they gobbled it up like greedy pigs. They agreed that it was the best they ever had. They foolishly thought though that it could just simply replicated if they made it themselves . . . my brothers and I knew better.

As well as for healthful endeavors****, I’m interested in exploring new measures of conservation of

This is trub . . .Horrid looking slop
 . . . but it did its job nicely!

energy and preservation, home economics and frugality, and reduction of waste on all levels. This guy here, who once studied biology and is interested in sustainability, is very curious to see how far cycles of fermentation can be taken within a single system, and how they can be expended and/or expanded by producing stuff with the by-products from a former fermentation cycle. An example of this is rather than discarding the trub (yeast sediment) after brewing beer, I collected it and used it as a sort of sourdough starter and to make some rye bread, which was goddamned delicious by the way! I’m now using that same bread to make kvass (see earlier entry). The lacto-culture from that kvass could be used for making more kvass, or used with fruit and honey to make a sort of healthier sort of pop, or used to ferment other vegetables for pickling. The remaining liquor from 

My resulting rye bread. Not too pretty,
but it tasted great, and will be sacrificed
for my next experiment.

that process could maybe be later used for pickling eggs . . . and so on, und so wieder, et cetera. It could probably last as long as I’m willing to commit to it.

It’s a shame that some of the younger and urban generations of today will never know what some of these homemade fermented products will ever taste like. That’s their loss. I think they have already sadly missed the benefits of such stuff. I don’t have, and never had, any sort of food allergies or intolerances, which seem to be more common with the younger people of today. I strongly suspect that starting off life being raised on things like homemade sauerkraut, unpasteurized milk, homemade cottage cheese, fresh picked unwashed berries, taking a carrot right out of the ground and eating it, and playing in real dirt helped me to develop a more resilient immune system. Having a pantry full of mason jars, and the knowledge to make stuff that fills them makes me feel like a bit of a relic from the past, but at the same time I’m bypassing an industrial system and food culture that seems to do nothing but figure out new ways to put more noxious chemicals and preservatives in the stuff we eat to poison us. There is a bit of a renaissance starting again with home canning and using natural preserving methods that include using probiotics like lactobacillus bacteria. I can only hope it catches on more.

The beginnings of bread kvass: rye bread
+ raisins + spices + yeast + water, and a
little dash of alpha-amylase to accelerate
the mashing process. And yes, I do just
happen to have a stock of refined
biochemical enzymes just lying
around in my kitchen cupboards
. . . I'm kinky that way.

If I don’t ever get to use my Baba’s rocks, it is my hope that either one or both of my nephews would get to, and learn and appreciate how to use them at least one time in their lives, so they can see and enjoy the results that they can procure, and be cognisant of the power of taste and tradition, and what real food is all about.

*- I freakin’ love probing through the merchandise at some Asian and other ethnic market stores. It opens your eyes to a lot of weird and wonderful ways and variations people can express their palette, and some stranger foods that bring people comfort. Discovering something new and tasty, when you’ve thought you’ve already had all that you wanted to try in your life, is a great experience. I do have to be wary though that some of the “medicinal” teas, herbs, spices, and condiments there that you could have tolerated well enough when you were younger can, within half an hour after consumption, make you feel like you were shitting pure battery acid.

**- For you pretentious, snobby foodies out there, I’m talking about choucroute. I know it sounds weird to be sentimental over something that in essence is the result of bacterial putrefaction. There are just some weirdos, like me, out there who love sauerkraut, while others out there would compare sauerkraut as the collecting all the most vile beer farts from everyone at an Oktoberfest, and condensing them into a jar of shredded cabbage. There is no accounting for taste.

***- Terroir is derived from “terre”, meaning land or soil; so it stands to reason that pierroir could be coined as a word derived from “pierre”, meaning rock or stone.

****- Fermented foods make for a healthier gut/digestive system, and are also proven to be useful in detoxification and chelation (removing heavy metals from the body).

The "Before I Die I Want to . . ." Wall

Despite having half-shot hips and knees, I kept to my commitment of making the distance mandated by my running programme yesterday morning (I’m aching terribly from it today). It was a lovely day, and getting hot. I started out a little bit later than I really should have. More people than usual were circulating and amassing along the trails and the banks of the river to watch the Dragon Boat races that were taking place that day.

For my longer runs, I often pick a route that passes along the trail cutting through River Landing, but yesterday was the first time I noticed a special feature put on the vertical face of the north bank pylon of the Sid Buckwold Bridge as I ran under it. I don’t know when it appeared but it must have been recent, and out of all of Saskatoon’s bridges this is the only one I saw it on. If it was up there for very long, I’m embarrassed to admit how oblivious I've been to it for all this time. It would be due to me usually having eyes front focused or tunnel vision when I’m exerting myself. However, this time I was stopped in my tracks because the message of it was very bold, striking, and profound. It was sort of a public message board that we as citizens could contribute to, with a very distinctive theme. It was simply a ruled blackboard with an open ended, fill-in-the-blank statement . . .

 

Curiosity led me to stop and linger around there for a while to see what was listed there. It’s interesting what people will dare to put there when they can do it in anonymity. There was no chalk around to make my contribution though. I wondered if this is a feature unique to our city, or if this is part of some grander movement around the country, or globally. If it is national or global, I’d be quite interested to see what differences and similarities there are in the types of wishes people write out.

In a sociological perspective, if this is a genuinely accurate sample of what goes on in the heads of people in this city, from what I could judge from the collective wish statements made on there, I must say that generally the people of Saskatoon are:

·         Not too materialistic, which is nice to see. There weren’t many, if any, wishes for wealth, cars and mansions, or owning other such finery. I saw one statement about winning a lottery but that was about all that struck me. The luxuries our citizens mostly listed was about freedoms and experiences that they wanted to have, like traveling abroad, “to retire”. There were lots of intangible things up there too, like “to fall in love”, “find my soulmate”,

·         There weren’t as many vulgar, low-brow scribblings up there as I expected. In such a public place with a node of contact with a high property crime/economically disadvantaged area, I thought there would be a lot more content on there that would be there more the sake of defacing it rather than serving to expound good intent. One example of the low-brow stuff was “get stoned with Snoop Dog”, but for every one stupid statement like that, it was countered by a lot more noble stuff, like “learn another language”, “get my Ph.D.”, “starting a business”, “to see my great grandchildren”, etc.

·         I was expecting more levity and humour like, “see the Toronto Maple Leafs win a Stanley Cup”, but that wasn’t the mood of this monument of our city’s residents. It was more serious, but a positive sort of seriousness. There were very few messages of desperation (maybe the Leafs comment counts as one though). The only one that stuck out for me was “to stop living in Hell!”

·         Lots of wishes and pleas for grander designs of positive social/environmental change, like “to be free from fossil fuels”, “see the end of global poverty”

I don’t know if this wall of wishes gets periodically washed down, recovering and renewing space for other people to add more things. There is a comfort in knowing that there is a lot there already that I have in common with some other souls out there. With facing my own mortality some while ago, its big message gives me pause for thought about it. There is a lot that is left that’s undone. I am left to wonder what I have that is not on there, and is unique for me.

I do know that I will be running by there more often to read it and to see if there are any more additions and changes. Perhaps I’ll make it a point to run over there with my own piece of chalk next time.

Holiday Planning (Plan B)

Well, any plans to go up North for a brief sabbatical have gone up in smoke, quite literally. The last entry I made about the fire risk situation was purely speculative. The reality of it happened the day after I posted it. I hate that I'm not only right in seeing the chain of cause and effect of disaster scenarios a little too vividly, but the severity of the situation is hitting too close to home, even though the real action is happening 400 kilometres away. The next day, I woke up that morning to find this whole city enshrouded with smoke that drifted in from forest fires around Lac La Ronge and area. Weather maps are showing the smoke extending and drifting right down to the US border. The air quality is bad here, and undoubtedly gets worse as one heads northward. This is the worst I’ve ever seen it around here for smoke accumulation from northern wildfires in all the years I've lived in the province. It’s so thick that I can’t even see the river valley from my place anymore; which is only a block and a half away. The weird, mad scientist, side of me was wondering and curious to know how long it would take for a slab of pork belly to cure and turn into a side of bacon if I hung one on my balcony. I better just keep writing before I start following up on an impulse to experiment with such crazy ideas.

The rain that was supposed to come today to help settle this didn’t come. I suppose I just have to comfort and placate myself with thoughts that align with “it could be worse”. As in: it could be worse . . . I could have reserved and made a financial commitment for a campsite up there earlier this year, and not be able to use it, or went up there earlier before this happened only to be forced back with an immediate evacuation, or it could be worse . . . I could be like the poor devils who are stranded up there losing their homes or property. As much as I’m complaining and agonizing about making a decision as whether or not to get away from here for my leisure, I’m at least not in a place where I have no choice but to evacuate, and forced to leave my home and all my possessions behind, with the sense of dread and uncertainty as to whether or not I’ll ever see them again. I would suppose that’s naturally what’s happening to the people in any one of the communities located near where any one of the hundreds of wildfires have been burning now in this province during this season.

So, my holiday plans have changed again; it’s not like any were set in stone anyway. Every place within all the corners of the “land of the living skies” is now fully immersed in a gagging, sun-blocking, dull, grey, haze. So, now it is pointless to go anywhere for a driving daytrip if this doesn’t clear up soon, because it is now all encompassing and there is just no way to escape it. After all this enduring and working through it, I’ve just nicely started regaining the full use of my lungs after struggling for six and a half months. I’m not going to now start sabotaging myself or foolishly sacrificing all that time of my progress by spending extra time outside camping and downscaling my shelter by tenting around and inhaling unbreathable air, alone at a place far away from medical aid. The risk versus the reward scenario kind of sours onto the side of the negative. It looks like it might be a staycation after all*. The onus is on me to try to somehow find those moments, make them count, and make things fun and interesting.

I almost forgot that I keep other lists and notes of ideas for times like these, and dug through stuff I wrote out on paper and digitally. My bit of recreational therapy theory is this: to get the most out of the time off, one has to directly substitute one’s typical work shift hours during the course of a day with only leisure activity, no exceptions! Since I work evenings, that relegates me to maximize my leisure time between 3:00 PM and 11:00 PM. I suppose it’s an opportunity to have some sort of social life like everyone else. That alone is both enough of a novelty and culture shock for me nowadays. Like being air dropped into the middle of some country where you don't speak the language, naked and without any money, and being expected to make something of yourself. 

It might be a good time too to try out something that I’ve never really adjusted well to: being pampered. Living alone, training with a soldier’s discipline and a monk’s patience with running, enduring and dealing with afflictions and injuries alone, constantly working to achieve self-sufficiency and independence, and being the sole provider for oneself with a sort of hunter-gatherer/survivalist mentality: it kind of sways and steers one far and clear away from that opposite end of the spectrum where anything involving “getting pampered” is found**. I’m sure it would be like a weird and alien experience for me.  I don’t know yet what that would even specifically entail the context of a vacation or holiday (which I could speak candidly about).

After reviewing, here’s what I’m thinking to do for myself thus far:

·         Continue with following my running and cross training program in the mornings

·         Do absolutely nothing that looks like work or chores after 3:00 PM

·         Book a massage, just for the sake of preventive measures (as opposed to opting to get one after getting physically buggered up)

·         Make a theme with an objective, for example, trying out the craft beers in all the brewpubs in this town

·         Take some kind of daytrip once the smoke clears, and hightail it out of town like I was on a jailbreak

·         Make no further effort to blog or post about the experiences along the way. Be less concerned about using precious time for writing, recording, and composing, and try just living for a change. This stuff will be just for me.

*- It does seem a little clearer now, and I smell less smoke; I wonder though if it’s because it is actually dissipating, or if my olfactory nerves have just become so saturated than I can’t detect it anymore.

**- There is about a 7% chance that Ella might fetch me one of my socks for me while I’m dressing if I ask her to. That’s about as good as pampering gets for me in my place.

Post Summer Solstice Holiday Planning

It is Saturday evening of the first weekend after the Summer Solstice. The Jazz Fest is on, but 12 kilometres of running in today’s heat left me a bit too weary to check it out tonight. It’s still too hot to sleep, so I’ve been sitting outside trying to cool down with a refreshing libation, and doing some self-assessing. It finally feels like I’m at least approaching the threshold of my fitter self. I’ve made a stronger commitment to train for running and to eat better since this month began. Maybe I don’t yet look it, but I’m finally starting to feel leaner and a bit lighter. I was comparing notes of the way I was close to this time in the season last year in another entry with how I’ve been feeling now, and I suppose also to find and remind myself of some motivators (Re-Motivating for More Clicks). By their comparisons, I still have some more healing and work to do.

As it is now, one small thing of novelty that I’m enjoying, and that is motivating me while I run, is a new set of Bluetooth wireless headphones. I love them. I bought them with a gift card I won in a draw. Knowing that I got them for free also puts a spring in my step. Listening to my progress stats, podcasts, and music without a bothersome cord dangling and tangling all around me admittedly is a nice liberating convenience. The only other bothersome thing to lose that’s flipping and flopping in front of me is whatever gut and man-boobs that I have left that were starting to sprout up after such a miserably idle and crippling winter/spring. Sorry for that tidbit of TMI, but in another couple weeks at this pace they’ll hopefully be absent as well. The more pressing need now is the conditioning and improvement of performance of my lungs and heart. If I don’t get those back, all else is in vain. They do seem to be getting better though, thankfully.

My other technical indulgence that I’ve been really liking is my new tablet computer, which I’ve been noodling around with and using to write this entry. I don’t know why I didn’t think of getting something like this sooner. It’s weird that my non-tech-savvy parents have had one of these long before I did. It is that perfect thing for times when lugging around a laptop is too cumbersome, or when a smart-phone app seems too miniscule and straining to my eyes. I also really hate typing with my thumbs. The touchscreen stylus mode it has is quicker and easier for me to interface than typing. When I get too bogged down by the wretched task using of my hunt and peck style of typing it limits and impairs my flow of thought and natural expression. I’m amazed to see that this thing can even decipher my chicken scratch! I’ve tested it to the degree of trying to fool it with using special characters [$, €, ¢, £,] and it seems to know its shit. What it doesn’t register very well though is accent marks, like umlauts and various others (á, ä, å, â, etc.). It is exactly the gizmo I’d want to have with me should I ever wish to commit to exploring the other grand things I’ve been scheming.

The scheming I’m referring to is a result of a harsh realization. Last week, on a day reserved for cross-training, I took a long walk up to Nutana, and made time to rendezvous with my friend for coffee. The last thing she asked me about in our conversation was how I was going to spend my holiday time for the year. I honestly had no answer for her about that. I was embarrassed to admit that I had already cancelled some vacation time I had booked off to attend some other Union affairs. I started to get uneasy thinking about it. The whole downhill slide with my health has been no doubt due to a failure to look after my own interests and needs. Constantly sacrificing my personal holiday time and energy for fixing problems and other things I see as bigger than me, or not making an effort to do anything meaningful with time off is all part of the same pattern. I realize that even after a serious brush with something nearly fatal months ago hasn’t really smartened me up to make better choices and use of my free time. I suppose (know) I was trapped in a malaise of not feeling my personal best to really find energy and stamina to do other such things beyond work, but now as this is starting to change; so is my attitude. I already snuck into a couple travel agencies to piece together some sort of package for stuff related to the sorts of things I noted in The Dream Circuits entry. That’s for a long term plan; right now I’m trying to plan on something more immediate for a getaway.

Canada Day is coming soon, and I have a week off for holidays. Both instinct and desperation are telling me to hit the road for a while, even if it’s just a daytrip to some place novel, now that my car is fixed and more roadworthy. As tempted as I am to stay put and save up more money for a proper flyaway vacation, I realize that’s just another way of squandering away precious time.

As for now, my compass needle is still spinning. I still don’t know where it is that I’ll be heading to; I do know I won’t be crossing the border to the states. It also seems senseless to plan to do any camping up North with the fire bans and random evacuation warnings happening because of the wildfires. There is still no rain in the forecast for that week, so the risks are just increasing as it gets drier. There are plenty of other crazy little sight-seeing objectives to target within the province that I haven’t seen yet. However, they are scattered all about. So, it’s unlikely that I’ll know what my tour plan will be until the last second before I leave.

On the bright side, spontaneity always makes things interesting.

The Marathon Itch

Since the end of April, I’ve been trying to exercise again, but I’ve been hit with more stumbling blocks. I’m at least cycling again to a normal speed and pace, but my endurance is still lacking. I’m guessing that my lungs give out at around 75% of what their normal past efficiency was. Damned pulmonary scar tissues are still being a nuisance to me. Cycling has been the only hardcore physical cardio activity I’ve been able to tolerate throughout the month, as there is less shock from it. Back pain due to a pinched nerve for the past few weeks has limited me to just that. Of course, this impedance restricted my ability to run. However, I’m finally feeling like I’ve recovered from that. All this while, it has been aching me to see so many people out there running, yet I couldn’t be among them.

I went to the Saskatchewan Marathon Expo yesterday. I wasn’t registered, but I was collecting a race package for someone who was. When I arrived at the Expo and reached the bike valet station, I was given a ticket with the big bold number of 007. It was a reminder that I had the smarts, discipline, and resilience before to adopt the “Bond” attitude before, and I’m sure I could put myself back in that place again. As I was cycling back home the downtown, I was lost in thought about what it will take to put me back into the shape my former self was in, and what kind of time and energy I could devote to it. I now have a goal, but I needed real science and numbers and figures to help guide me. So, like James Bond, I decided to scope out some of the course of the Saskatchewan Marathon, and covertly follow and use some real people as targets to assess some realistic metrics and information to fashion some running hacks.
I could hear the ruckus and commotion of the setting up of the Marathon all the way from the Exhibition grounds where the race starts this morning. The dog and I walked towards the starting gate, and I used the GPS on my phone and the stopwatch to get some data. Here is what I tracked down and found:

·         The stretch along St. Henry Avenue between the corners of Ruth and Hilliard is 0.211 km: that’s exactly 1/100^th of the distance of a half marathon (1/200^th of a full one). That’s convenient and useful for making a quick mental tachymeter calculation when I’m running through that section of street.

·         I found a target guy amongst the runners who was about my height, age, weight and build. I timed him and followed him between those two points. (1’ 52.62”, or 112.62 seconds)

·         Voila, I have what I need to determine realistic average target pace, at least initially.

·         Now, calculate that time and distance to a time/km figure for my slowest LDR pace (8’ 53.4”/km), and then go for a run try to hold that pace, and see how far I can get before pulmonary fatigue kicks in to get a baseline. I use that to work on extending my distance beyond that, progressively working up to the 21.1 km mark, and try and not to get too hung up on going faster.

I went for a trial run later after breakfast, which took me through some of the Marathon course. It was great to use the open road for a course way, and even though I wasn’t part of the race, the cheering bystanders were very motivating.

Siesta Fiesta (Part 2: Having a Fit)

I'm so glad for the 180 degree change in weather status since the weekend. It allowed me to move my

An exploded view of my
joinery system

mass of lumber and dirty business outside and continue on with my initial project in the sunshine. The hammock stand project has gone through a few dozen mental revisions, and I've had enough slight mishaps and mistakes occur to educate me a little better, nothing so serious that couldn't be corrected with a little innovation. In fact, some were welcome; they helped make me see a clearer vision of a version that would satisfy my earlier stated objectives. It actually made me see how I could make a convertible setup with just a changing some parts which can make two versions of a frame setup. They are:

Version #1 – The original double-mast version. The one made for being used for camping and the like. It's the form I'm working on now. So far, all the segments I cut can fit in the trunk of the car; so I reached the second objective.

Version #2- The deck version. A version that saves even more deck space, and requires the need of

The above pieces put together to make
a bracing point at one end of the frame

only a single mast point. The plan I have in mind still conforms to my first constraint of having no permanent attachment to the exterior of the building. This version technically requires even less material than that of my original plan, thus passes the imperative of approaching the goal of using dMass (I may have to borrow that spare wood to make corrections).

My greatest successes at this point are:

• Minimum of actual numerical measurement – I've only used my measuring tape about nine times. That was mostly just to get a rough overall assessment of how large it was going to be. The actual fabrication was done mostly by using a bevel gauge, a marking gauge, the straight edges of a roofing/combination square, and edges of the cut wood itself. This yielded for me . . .
• Making the snuggest, tightest tenons that I've ever made using soft wood. I'm impressed that I've worked myself up to having this sort of skill with mere hand tools
• Except for carabiners and eye screws attached to the hammock, it still no nails or fasteners holding the frame structure together
• Inclusion of a middle extender piece, to adjust by replacement of only one section of wood to account for the hammock fabric getting stretched, or if the hammock itself gets damaged and needs to be replaced entirely
• Only one cut/splinter so far*

The mishaps and failures so far are:

• Making the snuggest, tightest tenons that I've ever made with soft wood. I'm concerned about them being so tight that the extra strain may cause splitting and cracking around some critical pressure points on the frame. I have yet to test it out. The super-tight joints and mortises also keep my objective of an easily collapsible system (with a couple whacks of a hammer) for the sake of storage from being realized.
• A rapidly dulling ryoba saw that is finding too many knots in the wood. I noticed too late that some sections between some larger knots have looser wood fibre and would have an easier tendency to crack. I may have to dip into my reserve and buy some extra lumber to correct for these defects.
• I made my mast tenons perhaps too narrow. I think I need to fashion some sort of reinforcement struts as a correction. So much for the idea of tensegrity
• I made a poor choice for the kind of joint to use to bind a middle extender segment. This "bird's mouth" with locking pin set up wasn't a good idea, plus a loose knot I exposed now makes it inadequate. It is at least correctable, and there is enough of an end to spare to fashion another more stronger configuration
• 
  

  

  One of my boo-boo's

  I actually needed a power tool; specifically, a drill to bore some pilot holes for eye screws. I'm thankful that I have a kind neighbour who allowed me to borrow his.

So, I'm still stuck with doing these revisions and corrections piecemeal, and I'm not finished this yet. I guess there will be a part three . . .

What it will look like once finished.
Ella is in the background, awaiting the
chance to test this thing out.

*- I've discovered the hard way that while on blood-thinners, a simple brush with one small saw tooth on a fingertip can make the place look like a murder scene. I hope to be off these things by this month.

Siesta Fiesta (Part 1)

The weather has taken a despicable turn, with the arrival of an awful 20 centimeter dump of wet snow for the weekend that is plastering up everything. Even though the radical change in the scenery outside makes it look like a perfect weekend for people to want to start decorating their own necks with tight nooses, it has not deterred me from starting a project related to anticipating and enjoying a warmer and more temperate season. . . if it ever comes. My place is getting festooned with stray wood chips and sawdust anyway, so the remaining spring cleaning can wait.

On my first attempt at it (an exercise of futility in retrospect) a week ago, I began poking through some forgotten corners of my storage nooks in my home, and then dared to check outside though the chaotic mess in one spot of my deck space where other bulky and dirty random stuff is stowed. Another past eight months of neglect over the winter didn't make it look any prettier. There is over 1.5 hectoliters* of nutrient depleted, possibly blight and mold spore contaminated potting soil and peat moss to get rid of, along with various other miscellaneous useless implements. It's all stuff that no longer serves me well here. Four consecutive seasons of attempting container gardening up here, all of them yielding disappointing and fruitless results, is enough. Ridding myself of the clutter would free up between three and four cubic meters of space. Now, I'm just trying to figure out what to keep and possibly re-purpose, and what to pitch out as trash.

This is my favorite frame design I found on Pintrest so far:
I wish I were so talented to carve a ship's figurehead like this
one. Once I finish mine, I believe I shall christen it . . .
The S.S. Lazy Ass . . .  S.S. as in "siesta sling" 

What I did recover from probing around in my inside storage was the nice handcrafted hammock that I bought over 15 years ago when I traveled in South America. I almost forgot I still had this. For all this time, I never had the right living space nor found the time to hang it up right and use it. The trees in the back yard of my last dwelling were too far apart for a rope rigged system, and I never troubled myself to find or make a decent frame for it. Now, I decided not to let this fine hammock go to waste; so after a bit of cleaning up and space reclamation, I thought I might actually be able to set it up outside on my deck now. I can't get ready for the siesta just yet. There is some work to do. I just need a proper frame for it; hence my new carpentry project. Because of my particular spatial constraints and limitations, it has to be custom built. Pinterest and other sites gave me ideas, but nothing I found was 100% satisfactory for my needs. I have the following considerations to abide by, plus some other objectives that I want to aim for:

• It can neither be physically mounted onto the exterior of the building, nor to the support beams of the deck above me (condominium regulations)
• It has to be portable and as compact as physically possible, such that when disassembled all the components could easily fit into the trunk of my car, or stored in my closet over winter.
• Easy to (dis)assemble at a moment's notice, simply with just a couple of taps of a hammer if possible; thus . . .
• No fasteners like nails, screws, nuts, or bolts**: instead I'll opt to creatively use mortises and tenons, notching and other special tricks with custom joinery.
• The use of the principle of dMass***: the most minimal use of material that achieves an optimal amount of support to hold the weight of me (and the dog)
• Usage of tensegrity***, i.e. the dispersion of stress put on one part of the system, that can be used to provide support within it. So in theory, adding more weight to the hammock would actually make the frame structurally stronger (aside from the strain of what the weakest points of the material used can handle).
• Using local Canadian homegrown lumber, and other such material
• Just as an added special challenge, to stay within a budget of . . . $40.00 ****

It also has to be feasible to make with the tools I already have, which are all hand tools. I have

The only tools I've needed thus far.

nothing against using power tools; I just don't covet them. Hand tools are cheaper, they are relatively easier to control. They are more compact; lending to less bulkiness to store. Plus, they work everywhere, whereas power tools are useless when working in a spot without an electrical outlet (or a bulky, fuel-slurping generator). I see no sense or justification in spending extra hundreds of dollars on things that rob me of more of my space, and when I only have enough time to commit to one or two small projects in a year. My respect for hand tool craftsmanship goes back to the days of working as a cataloguer in a museum, and seeing specimens and the variety of examples of antique furniture made long before the advent of electricity and power tools; things that can be accomplished and produced with the mindful use of just a simple hand saw, a square, a plane, and a hammer and chisel. Another thing that I'm utterly enthralled with is the craft of traditional Japanese carpentry: more specifically, their discipline and techniques of forming joinery. It has a splendid geometrical precision; yet isn't

My best hand-crafted mortis and tenon so far using soft wood,
I don't think I could have done this well by using power tools. 

primarily based on taking numeral measurements. It stems more from following and forming on the character of the wood being worked with itself. Carpenters of their tradition have fashioned some of the oldest wooden structures still in existence, some temples and other historical buildings being over a thousand years old, lasting in a country with a high frequency of earthquakes; their support structures all built without using nails or other metal fasteners.

I took a long enough break to examine and rethink my process. More to come later. . .

*- That's 150 liters, or 5.3 cubic feet for the benefit of you non-metric Neanderthals.
** - Actually, I lied. I'll need a couple of eye screws, along with a couple of quick release carabiners for each mast point. I could do the same job with rope or heavy cord, but the carabiners would allow me to pack things up quickly if it starts raining instead of wasting time untying fancy hitches and knots. This weekend's snow was the prompt for this decision.
***- Do yourself a favour: read up on the work of the visionary, R. Buckminster Fuller.
****- Just because it is a sum of money I already saved as change from my SARCAN returns since the beginning of spring. It was $30.00 initially, but I included allowing myself ten bucks to spare to buy some extra "boo-boo boards", just because I know I'll have a high likelihood of having a mishap or making a mistake. Watching a passive collection of waste getting transformed into an energy-event/resource of exploitable value is a beautiful thing to see happen.