GEEKERY  
ADVENTURE  
CONTEMPLATION  

20101111

redefining ambition

I'm currently applying to grad school...again.  This time, I'm going for the full-fledged PhD instead of the half-hearted Masters.  Last year was half-hearted because I wasn't sure what I wanted to be doing--I'm still not totally sure, but I have a much better idea.

Grad school or industry employment--that was the question, and to some extent still is.  I love working and I love learning, but the more I think about it, grad school and industry are both really similar: you work hard and get paid (at least in the sciences).  Expectations are different, and so is the kind of work one does, but in the end, it's pretty similar.

And in talking to people about what I want to do with my life, part of me wants to tell folks that what I really want to do is live on a plot of land, grow my own food, raise a variety of livestock, keep bees, bake bread, make cheese, mend and sew clothes, read books, write, paint, play the guitar, sing, work on open-source software, eventually raise children, and be involved in my community--for starters.  Sometimes I tell people that, and I can't tell how seriously they take me.  (I try to reserve the outburst for people who have a shot of understanding.)

But sometimes people talk (or just think) about being realistic or ambitious, implying that doing all that would be "giving up."  Sure, to some extent I would be giving up on the rat-race for money, but when it comes to ambition, I think our living on one income and my doing all of those crazy-wonderful things is truly ambitious.  It would be very, very hard, but also incredibly satisfying.

Realistically, I won't be able to be full-fledged independent land-owner without significant capital, so I'm going to need to work in the typical sense in some capacity for a while.  I'm incredibly grateful that I'm capable of doing so, that I have opportunities, and that I enjoy what I do.  I'm gradeful that I'm not exclusively tied to one world or the other and that I love my life when I'm working for pay and when I'm working as a homemaker.

For now, I've made it a goal to contact local individuals to learn skills that are hard to develop by just reading about them--starting with beekeeping since it's fairly location-independent and minimally time consuming.  Maybe I'll learn that I don't enjoy keeping bees, who knows.  But maybe I'll learn a skill that I will use when one day I "retire" with my sheep and my ducks and my orchards and gardens.  Maybe I'll always live in between.  What matters is that for now I'll take whatever opportunities that present themselves and find joy in life all along the way.

20091105

buying bread vs. making bread

I've been struggling with the dilemma of whether to buy bread or bake bread. Home-made bread tends to be healthier and is obviously more fresh. It can be tastier too, if you're skilled enough, which just comes with time. However, it takes much more time and energy to bake a loaf than it does to go out and buy one (unless you live quite far from a store and consider it exceptionally difficult to deal with the check-out personnel). Unable to make a conclusion, I decided to run some numbers to see which was cheaper, and I thought I'd share.




The cost of buying bread every week is basically $2.50/loaf for Oroweat 100% Whole Wheat Bread from Safeway. I'd factor in transportation, but I go to the store just as much, whether my bread is bought or baked. That one loaf of bread is 1620 calories, which brings it to .154 cents per calorie.




The cost of making bread is a little more complicated. There are a million permutations, but I'll just consider two: buying your yeast and keeping a yeast starter.  Also note that I'm not counting the cost of water.



Weekly bread ingredients: packaged yeast: $0.44, 1.25 lb flour = $1.12, 2T honey = $0.25
Calories: 2200 calories

This comes to about .082 cents per calorie.  Additionally, you can factor in your time into the cost, but I enjoy baking enough not to do that.



Weekly yeast maintenance: .25 lb flour = $0.22
Weekly bread ingredients: 1lb flour = $0.90, 2T honey = $0.25
Calories: 2200 calories

Once you get the routine going, it comes to .062 cents per calorie. There is a startup cost of getting your yeast going, but you might be able to find someone to give you some of theirs to start. 




It's hard to grasp the cost of things when we're talking fractions of cents, but think of it this way: an individual consumes about 14000 calories a week.  If one-tenth of your caloric intake comes from bread, the difference between buying bread and baking bread is about $1.29 a week, or $67 a year.  If half of your caloric intake is from bread, it comes to $6.44 a week, or $335 a year.  It's counting pennies, but more information never hurts.

As for me, I'm going to see if I can get a yeast starter going.

20091020

holes in our lives

This past Sunday, I hit the local Quaker meeting. I went to a few of them at College, and loved them. The seats are arranged in a few consecutive circles, and people share their thoughts when moved.

For those familiar with the Mormon tradition of fast and testimony meetings, Quaker meetings are similar, except people tend to be more articulate, they have more discretion in sharing thoughts so a higher proportion of them are relatively profound, and no one feels the need to break the silence to prevent awkwardness. In fact, the silence is encouraged and part of the service.

Anyway, the service was beautiful, and one woman talked about filling the holes in our lives. She said that we all have holes and that we often try to fill them with things that do not quench the thirst or feed the hunger. She said that she herself played computer games, ate food she shouldn't, and chatted about silly things to fill holes. (No, this woman was not me.)

She said that we need to seek out the living water, the things that do fill the holes, and ground ourselves in those things. I love that this philosophy can be applied to anything in life, and I think it's beautiful. For the hole of actual, physical hunger, feed yourself with good food: whole grains, vegetables, etc.. If you are tired, sleep instead of having a stimulant. For the hole of loneliness, develop meaningful relationships with depth and breadth to them. Spiritual holes, mental holes, physical holes--this theory works for all of them.

If we achieve this ideal of always filling ourselves with things that truly quench our thirsts, rather than just delaying them, we will always be growing, expanding, and improving.

20090523

alternative housing

Rent is crazy expensive. Remind me why I pay a third of my income for a place I spend most of my time sleeping? What happened to the days where you could just live on the land? What if I wanted to pull a modern day Walden, would I have to get my structure approved by the appropriate authorities? Bah.

Seeing as my lease is up in a little bit, I decided to look into alternative housing options. A lot of them aren't practical for permanent living, but they were fun to consider.

cobhouses, yurts, tipis, earthships, tiny homes (some on trailers), schoolbuses, treehouses, steel houses, hobbit holes, more underground, houseboats, professional housesitting, couchsurfing

Another cool thing I found was the Findhorn Ecovillage, which is more of a place to implement these ideas than anything else.

20090501

May Day!!

Merry May! I woke up at the beautiful 4:55am this morning to go see the Berkeley Morris dancers perform at Inspiration Peak in Tilden. It just isn't May Day without Morris dancing.

They danced the sun up, and then we sang a few songs and everyone did a circle dance. There was a bear, the fool, antlers, May crumbs, and lots of bells and ribbons, of course.

My favorite comment was made by a woman saying that you have to be careful about the Morris dancers: "They did a fertility dance at my wedding and.....well, I have lots of children."

20090417

botanical bonds

My college's campus being an arboretum, I got used to having fairly friendly plants around. I would see a plant I didn't know, and swagger up to it and introduce myself. In response, the plant would generally sway a little or rustle its leaves at me, saying, "Pleasure to meet you. I can't talk, but there's a sign just over there that will tell you my name." And so it was that I became acquainted with most of the plants on campus, and developed a few very close friends.

Graduating threw me into the clutches of the cruel real world. One had to be introduced to plants by someone who already knew them. Luckily, the SF Botanical Garden has been proved to be an amazing support group. Additionally, this week I found the equivalent of a plant networking tool, where I can meet new plants online! At last I can stop suffering and write that symphony.