On Using it All ...

Making aprons from thrifted men's shirts!

Goat's eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy; a kid'll eat ivy too, wouldn't you?

Romeo and Jughead - "the boys"

And the girls (and babies ... such a gender divide!).

Hungry chickens!

Juicing up a storm!

A beautiful garden, woman and dog.

My new pal Sam

Full moon rising over the farm when I arrived ...

Waning moon two weeks later.

Lucy standing guard at 4 am.

I am up writing this at 4 am because a mosquito (likely more than one) was incessantly buzzing around my head, keeping me awake.  I’d be in my hammock tent (they can’t get at me there!), but it’s starting to get cooler at night and I’m not sure if I’d be warm enough!  We are slowly travelling toward the equinox, and the days are getting progressively shorter. It’s fully dark now by midnight, though when I got up this morning, the sky was already streaked with pink.  By the end of the month, Rachel and I will attend the Dark Sky Festival in the world’s largest Dark Sky Preserve in nearby Wood Buffalo National Park … leading me to believe that we’ll actually have some solid darkness by then!  As I write, I can hear the sheep and goats softly bleating in the barn; the dogs River and Lucy are standing guard under a sliver of a moon.

It’s been tricky to find time to sit down and write this because there’s always something else to do!  I continue to appreciate the autonomy I have here - time to play and experiment with projects that would probably get pushed to the back burner at home.  Currently we're working on finishing a new garden bed around the geodome that I’m hoping in future years will be a place to concentrate the many medicinal plants that grow wild around the property (not every volunteer will be so interested in wandering 260 acres to harvest medicine).  We’re leveling the ground between the greenhouse and geodome to lay an accessible path; we’re hoping to create mosaic stepping stones to complement the existing paving stones that await our use (stay tuned ... hopefully pictures of the finished product next week - we're so close!). This week I’m also planning to lay out the outline for a labyrinth in the future children’s area; I’m hoping this labyrinth (something I’ve always wanted to design!) will take a visitor on a wander through their senses with plants especially chosen for their scent, feel, taste, appearance … and sound?  I’ve continued to collect and dry different herbs - we included a fresh, aromatic tea in the CSA boxes last week, alongside the farm bread, freshly harvested vegetables, and preserved fish from Great Slave Lake. I’ve been playing with the solar oven that’s here, and plan to build a solar dehydrator with reclaimed materials.  

In addition to projects that I can self-direct, there are always chores.  Feeding the animals in the morning is generally taken on by 2 or 3 volunteers and can take up to two hours.  I had a panic attack the other morning trying to bravely feed the chickens (I have a quasi-irrational phobic reaction to them!):  I loaded up everything I needed - soaked grains, dry grains, fresh greens - and bravely entered the enclosure. They were super excited to see me, and clustered around my legs, eager to get at their breakfast.  I stood in the middle of the pen calling for help, simultaneously laughing and crying. I think my steps have to be smaller!! The pigs do the same thing when they’re hungry, and though they weigh more than I do, I’m at ease with their enthusiasm.  All the boxes of pig food (discards from the grocery store, brewery and oil from restaurants) get loaded onto the trailer of the ATV and driven down to where they are in the forest. They hear us coming and trot alongside until we stop and unload. Lots of grunting in pleasure as boxes of fruits and veggies rain down on them, and they drink discarded deep fry oil as I pour it out of the jugs. 

Even when we’re not working, there’s so much to soak in.  I’m loving the never-ending cultural/philosophical conversations that are shared among a crew of folks of different ages, nationalities and life experiences.  There’s always something to do in town or in a nearby community - like the information sessions last week on bear safety in the town museum, or bats at KFN. We swung by the Fisherman’s Wharf on Saturday for breakfast (with our reusable dishes, though I think that transition will take some time and effort to stick), and meandered through the Hay River “Show and Shine” car show.  I chatted for quite a while with a lovely Cree biker named Sam who admired my rings and asked me if I was a hippie!  

Our cooking class last week was on the theme of “Using it All”.  We were trying to illustrate how to squeeze out as much nutrition from foods as possible.  We juiced carrots, beets, apples, kale and beet greens to make power popsicles, and used the pulp in my infamous “trench muffins” (Pat says they’re so dense that soldiers used to carry them in their breast pockets to stop bullets) … despite that lovely dubbing, the muffins were much enjoyed.  We also made kale chips, and demonstrated how to brew broth from discarded bones and vegetable peelings. Using it all is something I try to do at home as much as possible, and it’s even more clearly illustrated in the closed system of the farm.

Everything here can be used.  Very little is discarded, and most of what is consists of plastic packaging.  It likely goes without saying that with animals around, food waste doesn’t exist.  Between pigs, chickens and goats, pretty much everything is consumed - and what isn’t can be composted.  At home, I try hard to only put items in the compost that truly can’t be consumed; here it really isn’t a big deal (although that doesn’t negate the necessity for gratitude).  

The pigs, in addition to browsing in the forest and eating our compost, eat a ton of cast-offs.  Every day, someone goes to town to pick up perishables that are damaged or are soon to exceed their “best-before” date.  Literally boxes of food. Every day. From one small grocery store in one town. While a large amount truly has gone off (the pigs don’t care), a significant amount is still quite fit for human consumption.  The largest component of this food is salad. In a bag. Salad in a bag has become the bane of my existence. Prepared greens sealed in a plastic bag; savory salad toppings (seeds, cranberries, croutons, cheese) and dressings in separately sealed plastic bags.  Each bag must be opened and dumped into the boxes for the pigs. It blows my mind how many bags of salad we get, and how much plastic waste they generate. For salad. On one hand, if it makes it easier for a family to actually eat vegetables that might not otherwise make it happen, then I guess it’s a win; but it’s salad.  It seems mighty metaphorical to me for the out-of-sight-out-of-mind culture of convenience that we live in.  Particularly being on the farm where (at least in the summer), still growing fresh salad greens are steps away, buying (and wasting) salad in a bag seems so ludicrous.  Not criticizing the families that eat these, but shaking my head at a system that has us so far removed from where our food comes from, including urban designs that make access to fresh vegetables so difficult.  And of course this is compounded by perfectly edible food is being discarded on a daily basis instead of being sold at a discount or given to programs that feed people in need (although the store from which we get our pig food does provide food to the local shelter as well; I’m grateful to the Super A for its community engagement).

Food is not wasted at NFTI.  The dogs even enjoyed the bones after I made bone broth (there was some question as to whether the flavour would have been all sucked out and they’d turn up their canine noses).  And well-fed animals do many things in return.  

Because the pigs, goats, sheep and cows browse in the forest, they serve a tremendous purpose in bringing damaged land back to life.  I’m learning that when the bison roamed freely (which they do in some areas up here in NWT), there was a beautifully reciprocal relationship between their grazing and the quality of the soil.  The dynamic nature of moving herds and the enrichment of the soil with their manure allowed a totally different profile of plants and microbes. NFTI uses the animals to recreate some of these patterns and rejuvenate the soil on this land.  Like a healthy forest fire allows control of some species and proliferation of others, moving the animals regularly to different parts of the forest helps to re-balance the flora (and presumably fauna) on the farm. The browsing of the pigs serve a number of other purposes.  They aggressively clear the land: by fencing off large areas to keep them contained to a particular part of the forest, and dumping their breakfasts strategically over time, they are being coaxed to clear a pig-scented path all around the property. Not only is this helpful in terms of creating walking trails, but it also seems to keep predators at bay.  The theory suggested to me is that pigs, being omnivores like bears, leave a scent that repels potential predators. (Although the cow herd today seemed to have been spooked by a wolf pack; the steer even appeared to have been bitten).

Of course the animals predominantly serve as a source of food.  The ultimate goal of NFTI is to demonstrate that a farm in the north can sustainably support 200 people.  The size of the herds and flocks are meant to provide that protein. Although in much of the world there is a push toward less meat and more plant-based proteins, that’s a bit tough to do sustainably in the north.  I’ve been impressed with what I’ve seen here. The animals are treated with love. Their feed is supplemented with bought hay, grain and pellets, but the vast majority is foraged. They are slaughtered skillfully and humanely (so I’m told by those that have been there).  The pork, eggs and goat’s milk they produce is delicious (and while it’s not currently done, the shearing of the sheep could produce some lovely wool!). As I build my list of pearls for my future homestead, I wonder how many pigs and goats I’ll need (and I think the chickens are a necessary evil).  I’d also like to keep bees - encouraging pollination of food and medicinal plants, producing an ethical sweetener (I’d like to have a sugar bush as well), and a source of wax and healing magic for creams and salves. I love how the animals and the plants and the food and the soil can be a closed loop when managed well; I’m still very ignorant on the details, but Michael Pollen’s description in “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” impressed me years ago.  I have much to learn!

That’s a wonderful part of this whole process.  It’s iterative. I had never been exposed to the principles of permaculture before, but one of the elements I really like is that of experimentation - trying things, learning from the results, and applying it to future experiments.  Truly the scientific method. NFTI encourages thoughtful experimentation, which I really appreciate.

Carrying on with using it all … NFTI uses cardboard extensively.  Much of the cardboard comes from the grocery boxes from the store, but they also encourage contributions from community members.  Cardboard free from gunk is shredded and used as mulch in the gardens, and as bedding for the animals over the winter. The gunky stuff is laid flat over the ground to suppress weeds and create new beds, or to maintain paths between garden rows.  It also feeds our worms - they work their magic on this material to pull it into the soil.

The gardens and the pigs are watered from the multiple ponds on the property.  The rest of the animals, including the humans, drink and wash in water that is delivered in a tanker (it would be neat to see this shift to an on-site filtration system).  Volunteers, staff and visitors are encouraged to be mindful of water usage: dish-washing systems reduce use, showers and laundry are rare and brief (or non-existent if you’re me … there’s a beautiful river running right around the property!).  Water used to cook pasta, for example, is even reused to boil potatoes and onions for the pigs (the precious creatures won’t eat them raw).  

NFTI is not currently carbon-neutral.  Electricity comes from a hydro-dam nearby that used to power a mine that has since closed.  I’d love to see them transition to on-site power generation. The 20 km drive to town and back every day to get food waste uses an unfortunate amount of gasoline; there has been talk of converting farm vehicles so they can use biodeisel, or even solar power.  But not yet. While I’m not sure how heat is currently produced, a new boiler system was just installed that is fueled by clean incineration (Micro Auto Gasification System, or MAGS). NFTI will be able to incinerate all sorts of waste, including plastic and oils, even biomedical and pharmaceutical waste, to drive the boiler and heat the buildings through the winter - all that plastic from bagged salad might actually go to good use!  (Compostables and recyclables are ideally separated from the waste stream; the system is purported to neutralize both organic and inorganic toxins such as dioxins and mercury, though I’m not clear how this works, particularly for the elemental heavy metals; I remain somewhat skeptical … obviously what is put it affects what comes out). Even cooler (hotter?) is that after an initial input from diesel and electricity (curious if future iterations could be modified to use biodiesel), the gas produced by the process becomes the fuel for further incineration - self-sustaining!  The biochar remaining can be used to nourish the soil. NFTI is working with Terragon Environmental Technologies Inc. to pilot a project to reduce greenhouse gas emissions through the diversion of waste from a 400-person community (ie. the nearby First Nations reserve).  

One of the things I’m enjoying about being here is that there are salvageable materials around.  Whereas in the city I had to have a cubic yard of good soil delivered to build my new raised bed, here there are piles of lovely gardening material in various places on the property.  I visited a woman in town who makes a line of salves and creams using wild-crafted and locally grown medicinal plants. She gave me a tour of her garden, and I asked how her compost heaps could be so exposed and undisturbed - in the city, as soon as I built my compost bin this spring, a critter had burrowed under it.  She told me there’s no vermin in the country that she’s experienced. The dogs get the mice, and she’s never had a problem with rats or raccoons. So it’s a lot less labour intensive to make good soil out here! There are random piles of slash from trail building that I’ve used make borders for the new gardens. There are piles of used lumber that can be re-purposed to make frames for solar dehydrators or weaving looms (my next projects), and plenty of gravel and sand for mixing concrete for our stepping stones.  In order to have those random materials available in the city, my house would look like a junk yard!  

The roosters are crowing; it’s 6:30.  Folks won’t likely be in the kitchen for another couple of hours (we all appreciate the late starts here!).  I’m going to go sleep a bit longer in my hammock. Hopefully the mosquitoes pipe down!