2019 olive harvest, first pass

The last two and a half days have been consumed by our first-pass olive harvest for 2019. It was a success but it was a lot of hard work.

On Wednesday I acquired a truck from Enterprise and got all the harvest equipment staged – rakes, nets, sorting stations, and bins. That was the half day; not big deal.

On Thursday three hired helpers and I picked olives while Kathryn and our friend Caroline sorted out leaves and bad olives. We worked steadily for eight hours and picked about 750 pounds before sorting (660 pounds after sorting), filling 3/4 of what’s called a macrobin. It wasn’t as much as I had hoped but it was all we could do.

IMG_1956.jpeg

Picking is reasonably hard work, even with nets and rakes. You position the nets on the hillside, nestled up against the tree trunks. Then you attack the olives with rakes, making it rain olives onto the nets. When either the trees are stripped or you’ve got almost too much to carry, you roll the nets up and hoist the olives to the sorting stations. Then you do it all again. And again.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_c8a7.jpg

For a young person I think it’s light work, and my hired guys seemed to think so. But for a 63 year old, scrambling around the hillside and carrying heavy loads takes its toll. I was and am very, very sore.

The sorting is also hard work, but more from the repetitive and monotonous nature of it. It’s assembly line work. It’s basically quality assurance – you can mill the olives with damaged/bitten olives and with lots of leaves, but the end product will suffer. It won’t taste as good.

IMG_4884

At the end of the harvest day we celebrated with some good wine (probably a bit too much) and some Mexican food. The next morning we took our olives to the be milled at Cougar Vineyards in Temecula. The owners at Cougar are great people and grow olives in addition to Italian grapes, and I’ve struck up a deal to process our olives using his milling equipment. (BTW, their wines are superb. If you live in Socal you should visit them.)

We had some technical problems that took up the first couple of hours. An electrical problem kept the mill from starting at all, then a mechanical problem kept us from operating continuously. Rick the winewaker, one of his helpers, a technical rep from the manufacturer (by phone) and I all worked through those problems. Finally, we got the cantankerous equipment working.

HQgyDkvpS%iZYIJlEdM7ig_thumb_c8ba.jpg

After about five hours of milling, our 660 pounds of olives yielded 10 gallons of oil, which turns out to be 11.5% oil content. That’s a little low – we should get 15-18% oil from our olives. But we kind of expected that – the longer the fruit stays on the tree, the higher the oil content, and an October harvest is fairly early.

Another side effect of an early harvest is that the oil will have a sharp, somewhat bitter flavor. That flavor does mellow out on its own in a few weeks, but the freshly-milled oil is a little harsh. One treatment for that is filtering, which we may try this year. Rick at Cougar thinks that’s a helpful process, so we’ll see.

IMG_1965.jpeg

All in all, a hard couple of days but a success. I don’t know how many more such days I’ve got in me, but we’ll need at least 2-3 more to harvest the bumper crop we’ve got this year. Next harvest days will probably be right after Thanksgiving.

 

Time flies

I like to say “time flies, whether you’re having fun or not”. That’s always been my excuse for doing fun things (golfing, reading, watching UK basketball, cooking, wine tasting, visiting with friends/family) rather than working at things I consider a duty, things  I “should be doing” (earning a living, maintaining the property, exercising). That’s never been more true than now.

I now have the opportunity to do what I want, for the most part when I want. That’s retirement, and it’s a great thing. I don’t yet have the optimum balance of fun and duty, but I’m getting there.

One thing that’s also true about time flying is that time seems to go faster and faster as we get older. It’s a near-universal feeling. I’ve always wondered why, and it turns out the answer can be found in neuroscience. From a 2016 Scientific American article by James M. Broadway:

“There are good reasons why older people may feel that way. When it comes to how we perceive time, humans can estimate the length of an event from two very different perspectives: a prospective vantage, while an event is still occurring, or a retrospective one, after it has ended. In addition, our experience of time varies with whatever we are doing and how we feel about it. In fact, time does fly when we are having fun. Engaging in a novel exploit makes time appear to pass more quickly in the moment. But if we remember that activity later on, it will seem to have lasted longer than more mundane experiences.

The reason? Our brain encodes new experiences, but not familiar ones, into memory, and our retrospective judgment of time is based on how many new memories we create over a certain period. In other words, the more new memories we build on a weekend getaway, the longer that trip will seem in hindsight.

This phenomenon, which Hammond has dubbed the holiday paradox, seems to present one of the best clues as to why, in retrospect, time seems to pass more quickly the older we get. From childhood to early adulthood, we have many fresh experiences and learn countless new skills. As adults, though, our lives become more routine, and we experience fewer unfamiliar moments. As a result, our early years tend to be relatively overrepresented in our autobiographical memory and, on reflection, seem to have lasted longer. Of course, this means we can also slow time down later in life. We can alter our perceptions by keeping our brain active, continually learning skills and ideas, and exploring new places.”

I love this explanation. It makes perfect sense, and it gives one hope. Even in our doddering old age we can slow the arrow of time by experiencing brand new things. That’s a great principle to live by in retirement –  try or do something new, often. Break out of old habits.

I’ll start that just as soon as I finish my morning coffee, sitting in the same chair in the same room at the same time…

 

10/7-10/9, Lake Hemet revisited

On a Monday afternoon we returned to one of our favorite campsites, Lake Hemet. We last visited on the July 4th weekend, and we liked the place a lot in spite the innumerable holiday weekend campers we had to content with. Once we were on the lake you could get away from the hordes and it was a beautiful spot.

Visiting in October, on weekdays, was completely different. The first thing I noticed as we drove up the mountain was the distinct brownness of everything on SR79 and 371. It hasn’t rained in Socal for about 7 months and it shows. Right now it’s as dry as it gets here. We saw remnants of some small fires along the 371.

The second thing that struck me as we climbed upward was the yellowish-greenish-brownish color of the scrub (manzanita, creosote bush, etc.) along the road, in fact as far as the eye could see. It’s an unusual color; there’s no name for it. I guess it’s what fall looks like in a high desert setting.

Upon entering the campground and finding our spot we noticed a lot more permanent-looking “campers” tucked into their sites. RVs and trailers with porches, sheds, woodpiles, makeshift enclosed add-on rooms – these are not rigs you pack up and go in an afternoon. My only explanation for this is that it’s a cheap

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_c85e.jpg retirement option. Pay $20-40K for a used RV, get it here, then pay $400-500 per month for a long-term space rental and you’re good to go. That’s a LOT cheaper living situation than anything else I can think of in Socal, and the setting is beautiful. My first reaction upon seeing all this was…who in the world would live like this? My more considered reaction is…I get it. Simple, cheap, peaceful, safe, and surrounded by beauty.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_c867.jpg

When we left the Temecula area it was 91 degrees. The temperature at the lake was a much more comfortable 81 at the peak afternoon heat. We walked around the almost silent property and took in the views, some shown here. The lake itself was down about 8 feet from its spring 2019 high – I suspect that this level is more the norm. We’ll see how that affects the fishing tomorrow.

We enjoyed a simple meal of hamburgers grilled over charcoal, heated up baked beans, cole slaw and some apples from a tree just yards away. Camp grub at its finest.

Later that night we learned firsthand that the high desert nighttime is cold. We don’t have a thermometer, but I estimate it got down to 35ish. Cold enough to get your attention in the Socal uniform of T-shirts and shorts.

All told after our first afternoon and night back at Lake Hemet I am very satisfied. It’s a peaceful place. The lack of cell phone service and Wifi is disconcerting at first – we’re so seldom disconnected these days – but even that feels good this morning. Now for the fishing…

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_c871.jpg

Postscript from day 2. Double disappointment. While the half-day fishing on the lake was beautiful, we caught no fish and didn’t see our eagle buddy. That’s fishing. Before we return I’m going to do some research on this lake and lake trout fishing techniques to be better prepared.

Still no flying car, but this might do

The primary mode of travel for most Americans isn’t an airplane, a bike or a train – it’s a car. I’m the same – I’ve driven 200,000+ miles over the last decade, mostly associated with my too-long work commute to San Diego and LA. Even retired I’m driving something like 12,000 miles per year, so having a good vehicle is important.

I’m a year away from needing to replace my primary traveling tool, my car. The BMW 5-series plug-in hybrid has been and continues to be a great car. Drives like a BMW, is beautiful and most importantly qualifies for the carpool lanes. Carpool lanes are essential in Socal unless you want to spend hours in heavy, heavy freeway traffic.

In retirement my needs have changed somewhat, so I’m thinking a truck. But also needing the carpool lanes leads one to wish for an electric truck – something that doesn’t exist yet but looks like it will in late 2020, pretty much perfect timing for me. So I’ve put myself on the waiting list for two prospective EV trucks – the Rivian and the Atlis. I’m hoping for the Atlis (better looking design) but the Rivian is much more likely to produce a vehicle in the near term. Rivian has huge orders from Ford and Amazon and is extremely well capitalized. Atlis not so much.

The specs on both are amazing (see below), so either way it would be a great vehicle. BMW performance, truck utility and EV efficiency and conservation. Win-win-win. The only downside is price – they’re going to be expensive. It should be noted that neither company has produced a single ready-to sell vehicle yet, so that makes things a bit risky. But that’s where Tesla was a few years ago.

Anyway, stay tuned. We’ll see what the EV truck landscape looks like a year from now.

From motor1.com: “Rivian intends to offer the pickup with three available powertrain options. The base model has 402 horsepower (300 kilowatts), 413 pound-feet 560 Newton-meters), and a 105 kWh battery capacity offering a driving range over 230 miles (370 kilometers). The middle step has 754 hp (562 kW), 826 lb-ft (1,120 Nm), and a 135 kWh battery with a range over 300 miles (483 kilometers). The range-topping version has slightly less power at 700 hp (522 kW) and 826 lb-ft (1,120 Nm), but it packs a 180 kWh battery with a range over 400 miles (644 kilometers).

House rules

I’m gratified to see that this blog has increasing numbers of visitors and readers over its short existence. Thanks! But besides just reading, please take the time to leave a comment. I find that comments are some of the more interesting parts of weblogs, giving readers (and the author) insights into who else in the world is interested in the same subject. And a chance to interact.

Blog comment streams can also be cesspools of negativity, but I’m using comment moderation to filter those out. Internet trolls and spambots not welcome here.

So leave a comment, say hello and preserve your Internet footprints here. We’d all appreciate that.

(Feature picture above is of owner/chef Faro Trupiano of 127 West Social House, a super Fallbrook bistro. Drop in and tell Faro hello – the food is great.)

Actually, you can go home again

My trip to eastern Ky and my hometown was better than expected. My dad and stepmom were in pretty good shape so no action or intervention required. The hotel I stayed in was good (sleeping arrangements in the parents’ house are limited and complicated; long story) – it was the refurbished Ashland Plaza, now a Marriott. I stayed there a lot 30 years ago and now, here I am again. Deja vu.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_c809.jpgI drove around and saw all the old places from my youth – houses we lived in, houses of relatives, favorite neighborhoods, old schools, the high school football field and Crisp’s Dairy Treat , a real tradition. I remember our school bus driver Mr. Helton stopping at Crisp’s on the last day of school every year and treating everyone on the bus to a five-cent ice cream cone. It was a nice drive down memory lane.

I took a longer drive into the countryside, venturing into Argyllite, Flatwoods and Greenbo Lake.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_c81a.jpg

Greenbo was beautiful, pretty much peaceful and unspoiled just as it was fifty years ago. It was awesomely quiet at Greenbo – that’s something you just don’t “hear” in Socal. You can go miles and miles without seeing any “civilization” in those parts. I was shocked at how little things have changed in rural Boyd and Greenup counties.

It’s hard to describe the area to someone from Socal. Small cities, tiny roads outside the cities, miles upon miles of trees, streams and lakes sprinkled liberally. The radio stations are mostly religious or country. I did encounter a few really weird FM stations below 90 Mhz where a country preacher was holding forth in broken English, a strong KY-country accent and a low, gravelly voice murmuring challenging questions for unsuspecting listeners (“have you given your all to Jesus?” “do you allow Satan in your home?”).  That’s new. A lot of Trump stickers on trucks, but I guess one can see that in the West also. I was once again amused to see the place-names of eastern KY. I drove on roads named Culp Creek, Turkey Lick, Salt Lick, Long Bottom, Needmore Hollow, Shanty Branch and Barbeque Road. In similar vein I saw an advertisement for a sheriff in Ohio named Sheriff Jeffrey Lawless.

On the way back to Louisville I stopped in Mt. Sterling KY to see an old family friend, and then made my way to LexingtonUNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_c82d.jpg to see my nephews Corey and Chase, my brother Mike and Chase’s better half Katie. And their very nice dog Sophie (in the headline picture). It’s great to be able to drop into multiple cities and have friends/relatives to catch up with – I guess that’s called having roots in a place. All in all it was a very satisfying trip and an itinerary I plan to repeat soon.

Traveling through time

I’m planning a trip back to my hometown of Ashland, KY soon to visit my dad and stepmom. It’s as much a trip through time as through space. I left Ashland 44 years ago to attend the University of Kentucky and only briefly ever lived there again. In 1982 I moved back to Ashland for a very short time during the final weeks of my Mom’s awful fight with cancer. And then again for a couple of years between marriages, when Emily was in middle school. I left again for good in late 2000 to make a life in Socal with Kathryn, and Ashland has felt increasingly distant from that time forward. (The featured picture above was taken in Ashland around 1999. From the left it’s my brothers Mark, Mike and Don, then me and my Dad. We looked pretty good back then.)

I’ve always had a fraught relationship with Ashland and eastern KY. On one hand I remember it as beautiful country and a great place to be a kid. My brothers and I ran through the hills like wild animals and loved every minute of it.

On the other it holds some harsh memories of people departed and poor decisions I made during my college years (another set of stories for another time). In those days I traveled weekly from Lexington to Ashland and back, one foot in the past and one attempting to find purchase in an uncertain future. I remember getting lots of traffic tickets in those days, as the interstate highway speed limit was 55mph and strictly enforced. Just try driving at 55 today on the highway and see why a young, impatient person might have ignored the limit.

During my adult years I’ve watched Ashland decline as a city and a region, as the steel mill closed, the tobacco and coal economies collapsed and population declined. It’s one of the poorest regions in the country, now gut-punched yet again by being in the epicenter of the opioid epidemic.

I tell people I’m from Appalachia and that’s true. It’s like a completely different country there – people, culture, language, values, economies – all pretty much the opposite of  my chosen life in Socal. So my upcoming trip to Ashland feels like a much longer trip than 2300 miles. It’s a journey back into the past and into a somewhat foreign land. Planning for the trip has kicked off a big round of introspection, nostalgia and pointless thoughts of “what if?”.

I hope the person I’ve become post-retirement finds a way to appreciate my hometown for what it is and what it was. We’ll see when I get there; old habits die hard. For 40+ years I’ve gotten in there and out as fast as possible, wondering how I ever escaped in the first place. Thinking about it now I wonder, “Did I really?”.

 

Smell the roses

Might have to rethink the narrowly-defined charter for this blog – having nothing to say when we’re not traveling is a sure way to lose readers. I like blogs that update every day or two, and now that we’re past our manic travel schedule for 2019 it could be a while between posts.

Since returning from Malta things have gotten back to more or less normal, though I’m still figuring out what “normal” is in a post-retirement life. One sure thing is that I’ve gotten recommitted to creative writing. Attending last weekend’s Fallbrook Writer’s Conference with Kathryn was a big boost. We met some great people and I came away fired up to rewrite and finish the novel-in-progress.

Another thing on my mind a lot since returning is mortality. I suppose that’s normal for someone creeping up on 65, but it seems like a lot is happening in my orbit. My favorite blogger over at Blue Heron Blast fighting cancer again. My brother Mark with a semi-serious surgery. Celebrity deaths. My friend Lumpy recovering from a serious stroke. Another friend paralyzed in a bike accident. One of my best friends with skin cancer and some serious arrhythmia (who the hell can spell that right?). Life is pretty fragile. So I’m motivated to use my time better than in the past, and I’m doing pretty well.

Mo’ Malta and Sicily

My normal blog writing process is to write a short essay and then find the pictures that best fit that story. In this case I’ll do the opposite. Here are some of our better pictures of the trip with a sentence or two that puts the picture in context.

First up, the featured image above the title. Before Europe we spent three great days in Louisville centered around grandson Hudson’s second birthday. I was at the house when he woke up for his birthday breakfast, and there’s the happy family. No one should look that good first thing in the morning, much less all three of them. And here are a couple of good pictures from the birthday celebration itself.

As it was hotter than blazes (Kentucky in mid-August, not a surprise), Hudson spent most of the day in his pool. We sweaty adults could only look on in envy.

g6wZE5%BToieLFHcyFiY2w_thumb_ba7a.jpg

And it wouldn’t be a family get together without a great spread of food. Note the Moana theme – Disney reigns supreme in a two year old’s home.

15np7LKSTmOk9Mdp5IqqGQ_thumb_ba81

Moving on to Europe, if we ever went back to Sicily (unlikely, to be sure), I would stay in one of these luxe seaside hotels in Taormina. Nuff said.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_be3b.jpg

E+XNkzbjQKWtalxECi4eMg_thumb_c4ce.jpg

A highlight of our Sicily trip was the journey up Mt. Etna and an included hike (more like a crawl) through a lava tube. Here we are before entering the underworld. The lava tube was a little intense but a great experience – razor-sharp rocks on all four sides, terrible footing (making the concern for said razor sharp rocks more acute) and wedging our way through a tiny exit hole. Was glad to experience it, but once was good for me.

Looking back at what I’ve documented so far I realize there aren’t many pictures of Palermo. We can remedy that. Palermo was surprising, in that it was mostly pleasant, huge, and fairly photogenic. Quite different from Catania. And another missing feature of our trip is churches. Churches, cathedrals, ex-mosques, religious ruins…we saw lots of them. Below is the cathedral part of the Royal Palace of Palermo near where we stayed in Palermo. These places are vast, and it’s hard to get a good picture showing the scale. And they’re ornate – mosaics, gold leaf and sculptures covering every square inch. It’s mind boggling how much labor and cost went into building these religious monuments. We saw cathedrals and churches like this in each city – Catania, Palermo, Valetta, Mdina, etc. They’re ubiquitous in this part of the world.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_bbd5.jpg

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_bbd3.jpg

Another trip highlight occurred in Palermo – we took a bike tour of the old city. We got to see and hear a lot of the history of the place, which is deep and rich. Bikes were a great way to cover ground and get a little breeze on a hot day.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_c71f.jpg

Next up are nighttime and daylight pictures of the Palermo Cathedral, built in 1185 and a beautiful structure and plaza just steps away from our B&B.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_bba3.jpg

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_c70f.jpg

Finally, on to Malta where we have many great memories. I think we’ve documented those pretty well in previous posts.

The Joys of Travel

(Headline picture above was taken by Kathryn on the roof of our friends’ home in Malta. The fireworks deployed for their St. Caterina festival were truly amazing.)

Since returning to the Left Coast sleep has been problematic. On previous international trips in which time zone lag becomes noticeable, I was employed and was forced to make the adjustment by any means available  – drugs, lying in bed resting even if I couldn’t sleep, etc. I had to get up and go to work so I pushed through the adjustment as quickly as possible. Also, I was younger.

Not so this time. Left unchecked, it turns out that mixing rather ingrained insomnia with a nine hour time difference leads to some weird sleep patterns. I’m embracing my sleeplessness rather than fighting it. I’m getting 2-3 hours of good sleep at a time, several times in a 24 hour day. Everything I read says that’s not good, but it actually feels pretty good. We’ll see how long it takes to get back to a more aggregated sleep pattern this time.

Another joy of travel is the inevitable science projects you find in the fridge upon return. We did a pretty good job clearing food out before we left, but some vegetables were left in the veggie compartment and they were…unpleasant. So we took the opportunity to further clear the fridge and clean the inside.

Finally, we live in a rural area and there’s a constant infiltration of mice into the house. We keep up with them pretty well when here full time, but a week away and inevitably a mouse finds its way in and runs rampant in a closet or cabinet. With a three week absence we had one or more mice get into the pantry, something we hadn’t seen before. So we ended up clearing the entire pantry, throwing out massive amounts of dry goods in paper packaging, and cleaning the shelves with disinfectants. This led to a trip to buy new plastic containers for everything other than canned goods. We’re almost finished with that project, though still waiting to catch the culprits in newly-set traps before we place everything back in cabinets. (Pro trip for next trip: add this to the pre-trip checklist. Set traps proactively in likely spots.)

All this being said, we’re really happy to be home. The fact that north county San Diego weather has taken a turn for the cooler is a big plus – we’re loving the cool nights after the cooker temps in Sicily and Malta. Let’s hope that weather pattern continues right into our true Fall season, starting late October.

Photography Blues

Once I got home and could really look at my pictures from the Malta/Sicily trip, I was very disappointed by the quality of many shots. The new camera – the Fujifilm X-T30 – has a stellar reputation, one of the top-rated cameras these days. So I was puzzled and frustrated by the wayyyy-overexposed pictures I kept getting.

After some thought and some comparison, I’m pretty sure I have the answer. Operator error, a very rookie mistake. I took two lenses with me, a 50mm prime lens and a 50-230mm zoom. The pictures with the prime were generally good, even great, but the pictures with the zoom were not. First I thought it was simply the lens quality – I bought the XF version of the prime lens, where “F” stands for “fine”, indicating a higher quality build. I bought the XC version of the zoom to save some bucks, where “C” stands for “cheap”. (Actually, the XF indicates a lens with all metal construction and the XC version substitutes plastic for a lot of the lens body).

Then I thought it might be the fact that I was shooting everything with in auto-ISO mode. This isn’t something that was even possible back in my film-shooting days, and is made more practical now by the way the Fuji can take crisp shots at crazy-high ISO settings, as in ISO 12,000 or 16,000.

Then I noticed that the night shots with both lenses were excellent. At that point I realized what must be happening. Like an idiot I left the lens hood for the zoom lens home – it’s pretty big and I thought it wouldn’t make a difference. Boy was I wrong. Pretty much all the daytime shots with the zoom are washed out due to light leaking in from the lens’ front edge. Zoom lenses are focused on something in the far field and make their focus and exposure decisions based on the light gathered from afar. Light leaking in from the edge causes an overexposure. Here’s an example. The first picture is with my Fuji zoom lens, taken at ISO 800, F6.7 and 1/20 second. I was trying to capture the amazing colors of the lichen growing on Mt. Etna above the tree line. Didn’t work, as you can see.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_bb36.jpg

Here’s approximately the same scene in the same light shot by Kathryn’s Canon G9. Huge difference in colors and contrast. Her Canon took the photo at ISO 400, F4 and 1/200 seconds.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_bed5.jpg

One more example to illustrate the point. Here’s a photo taken on a bright afternoon with the zoom lens, trying to capture Valetta’s beautiful seafront. It was taken at ISO 160, F2 and 1/1000. Horrible result.UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_bc6d.jpg

Here’s the same photo taken by Kathryn’s G9 at the same time. It was taken at ISO 100, F4.5 and 1/2000 of a second.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_c0b0.jpg

This careless, rookie mistake cost me hundreds of pictures. Fortunately we took many of the same shots, so Kathryn’s pictures fill the hole where I failed. But a hard lesson nonetheless and one I won’t forget.