Here’s what they look like now, October 11of ’25, better photos, I think than those of the last post:
Before, after and after. The seven acres of woodland on the eastern slope behind the house. There are four such stacks of logs, plus great piles of slash. More about which later. On Thursday of this week, Shavonne, the forester, her parents, Ian, of Phoenix Habitat, Larry and I met below to have a look (and take photos) of the progress. Josiah, of ALM, will feed these logs through the stripper feature of the giant machine pictured last post, to strip the stems and branches, rendering them ready to be picked up by the Philomath Youth Support group. They will chop and split the wood, and sell it as firewood somewhere off site. It’s pretty astonishing, and rewarding, to see the progress toward a healthy stand of Oregon White Oak.
And we’re hoping that ALM can secure one of the giant tanks which can turn the slash into biochar. Ian told of the purchase of these tanks by the Forest Service, which have as yet to be used. I think I mentioned it pyrolysis last post, a great alternative to simply burning the stuff.
While the above work was being accomplished, the man who twice-a-year washes the windows in our house, voiced a concern. There’s probably poison oak in that woodland, and “I hope the disturbance won’t send airborne molecules of it! I’m pretty sensitive!” Hmm. I had no idea, or way to reassure him, but on Thursday I asked the experts. They said we did have poison oak, a given in oak lands, but no, it was not airborne. You have to bump into the stuff to experience the infuriating rash. Good to know. Do not go barefoot, or barelegged into these woods!
Meanwhile on the pasture land below the house, this was going on:
Allen and Mitch were at work on two oak trees which had developed idiosyncratically, drooping branches to
the ground, which continued to grow at the earth-bound level, blocking the view and preventing any mowing to reach within yards of the stands. Peter is planning a visit next week, and (surprise, Peter!) his dad is counting on his help to saw these logs into fireplace lengths, and move them to the barn to join the tonnage of firewood already stored there.
So a productive week! To cap it, Larry and I drove to Portland on Friday for a bi-yearly trip to the dentist for the usual torture of cleaning, chat by the assistant, x-rays for me. An hour and half drive. When we got there, the office was closed. What!!? We both had that day and time marked on our calendars, but. A very wasted morning, unfortunate counter-balance to the nice environmentally progressive work cited above. We have not yet solved the mystery, they being closed it now being the weekend.
Chicken news: Tired of being overwhelmed by their relentless egg production, we determined to thin our flock. The same neighbor who introduced us to the Philomath Youth project, is Tracey, my egg contact. Would she like another couple for her flock? No, but she has a friend who has an organic strawberry farm, and who would love to have two of our birds. Kind of unfortunately, she wanted the Barred Rock, honestly my favorite. Oh well, little Rockie would be pretty happy free-ranging on a strawberry patch, so I said fine. “Sure. And you can have the Jersey Giant, too, Blackie.”
It’s not that easy to catch chickens who don’t wish to go along, but Larry actually succeeded in grabbing Blackie’s legs while she was trying to burrow under the shed, and the deed was done. We can keep the two remaining birds closed safely in the run while we’re away in Portland or wherever more easily than the four. Plus, only two eggs a day?
And out in the orchard where the chickens actually live, we were facing a plum-tree challenge. They’re Brooks plums, delicious, but tiny, and not free-stone. So there are literally hundreds of them falling to the grass as they ripen. My bright idea was to spread a tarp under the tree to catch the fruit. Fine, but it rained that night. Poured. The tarps got soaked, the plums which had already fallen turned to mush. Ugh. We had to maneuver the wet tarps and turn our attention to the branches heavily loaded with plums. Crawling around on our knees in the wet grass, dodging the bees hard at work, not one of our best farm experiences. But we couldn’t just let the things rot on the ground. The seeds? We got most of them picked, and then what? They are great to just eat, but you can’t slice them in half and remove the seeds. They’re about the size of a large cherry. That is, pretty tiny. But the pits are rough, almond shaped and mean to stay put. So we can eat them as is, and do, but can’t dry them, freeze them, can them with skin on, pits in. Too bad.
Off to Portland tomorrow for a play, Primary Trust at Portland Center Stage. Yes, in Portland. The war-torn city, soon to be saved by the arrival of federalized troops. I refrain from any political comment. We’ll be all right. Thanks for joining me here!
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