Wednesday, 19 March 2025

The Porcupine Saga, Part 13, The Tour: Part 2

Will Harper, late afternoon, Saturday July 21, 2040

Author's note: This starts a little abruptly, especially if you haven't been following the series. So here is the last bit of episode 12 just to tie things together.


"But after ten years, you're still a going concern," said Will, "so you can't have too many problems."

"Seems not," said Allan. "We make every effort to resolve interpersonal conflicts before they get out of hand, of course. We've all had training on participatory democracy, mediation and things like emotional intelligence. It all helps, and it does work most of the time, except when it doesn't. People being what they are."

"No doubt," said Will. "What's next on this tour?"

Allan stepped back from the fence they'd been leaning on and turn around, pointing north. "Well, that row of buildings is our industrial heartland, so to speak."

"Really?" said Will in a doubtful tone.

"I'm not entirely serious," said Allan with a grin. "We don't have anything on the scale of chemical valley in Sarnia, or the steel mills in Hamilton. But what little we have of that sort is concentrated here. Given your background, I think you'll find this quite interesting."

"Great," said Will. "Let's have a look."


"OK, next stop Industrial Row" said Allan and started off toward the buildings just to the north. "Many of the processes here involve fire and to avoid burning down the rest of our buildings, we put them down wind and a fair distance from anything else. Woodworking, textiles, and papermaking are in the second pole barn. And our sawmill is back near the woodlots."

"So what exactly do we have here?" asked Will, as they stopped in front of a pair of silo like structures."

"Well, these two outfits here at the south end are our charcoal and lime kilns," said Allan. "The one on the right is the lime kiln. It's pretty traditional. Basically just a short silo built from stone with an iron door at the bottom where we put in wood and a hole at the top where we put in limestone. Light the fire and it gets hot enough to change the limestone (calcium carbonate) into lime (calcium oxide) and carbon dioxide. After the fire goes out we rake the ashes and then the lime out the door at the bottom. It can be a filthy thing to operate, even though we put in a cyclone in at the top to spin out most of the particulate matter from the exhaust. The carbon dioxide released is an inherent part of the process, nothing to be done about it. So we make no more than the absolute minimum of lime that we need—mostly for mortar in the stone foundations of our buildings."

"If this is anything like Dad's farm, a fresh crop of limestone comes up with the frost every spring," said Will. "So at least you don't have to worry about supply."

"True. Picking stones on the newly worked fields is a regular activity every spring, just like when you were a kid," said Allan. "You know, one thing to keep in mind about this operation is that we build stuff so that once it's built, it doesn't have to be done again for a long, long time. No planned obsolescence here—just the opposite. Things are designed so that what maintenance is needed can be done easily and we're all careful not to damage things unnecessarily. This reduces our resource use and the wear and tear on our production equipment. And it reduces the amount of work we have to do."

"That's a big difference from the way things were done under capitalism, where planned obsolescence and continual growth were needed to keep the system running," said Will.

"Yep. And an infinite supply of energy and materials, which we don't have. But with all this talk of industry, it's possible that I'm creating a misunderstanding," said Allan.

"In what way?" asked Will.

"About work," replied Allan. "There was a lot of work the first few years. Getting the buildings erected, and the industrial stuff working, setting up gardens, orchards, coppices and such. But even then, we set a precedent of valuing free time rather using those hours to create a bigger surplus. And that's even more true now that the big projects are finished, and we've salted away ample food and such to carry us through bad years."

"So Tom's estimate of 32 hours a week turned out to be true?" asked Will.

"On the average, yes, maybe even somewhat less than that," said Allan. "During planting and harvest or when there is a big project on, people work from dawn to dusk. But that's only a few weeks each year. The rest of the time, there are a few hours of 'shit jobs' each day and then the opportunity to spend time doing stuff you like doing."

"So, what are these shit jobs and how do you get people to do them?" asked Will.

"Things like taking care of the composting toilets, laundry, cooking, weeding the gardens, shovelling snow and feeding the heating stoves in the winter," said Allan. "It's strange what some people like doing and others don't. But if you're not feeling like working at all, odds are that someone will come looking for an hour or two of help with a job you'd rather have avoided. Best to be seen as willing in that case, or you'll get stuck regularly helping with the very worst jobs. For most people, sitting around doing nothing gets boring after a while anyway and being helpful turns out to be enjoyable."

"I've noticed that most people develop a whole different attitude towards work when they aren't being forced to do it just to get money for rent and groceries.," said Will.

"That does make a big difference. Also, you'd be amazed at the things people like doing and work hard at, voluntarily," said Allan. "Anyway, carrying on... the charcoal kiln, the one on the left, isn't actually a traditional kiln but something a little more modern and efficient," said Allan. "Nothing fancy though—just a big steel pot with a fire underneath it. Plus some brick walls and insulation to keep the heat where we need it. The pot is moderately air tight, so when we heat up the wood inside it turns into charcoal instead of burning. The gases produced in the process are flammable and we pipe them down to the fire and burn them, giving us some additional heat so that it takes less wood.

"The scaffolding around them both gives us to access the top and between the two is a crane for hoisting things into place. And in the case of the charcoal setup, taking the pot down once the run is over."

"It looks... I don't know... very industrial," said Will.

"Ha ha," said Allan. "Does the job, though The first building past the kilns contains our foundry, forge and welding shop."

Beyond the kilns, Will observed a squat building, which didn't seem overly large considering what Allan said it contained. It had a field stone and lime mortar foundation, rammed earth walls and sheet steel roof. A big chimney was built into the nearest end of the building and a couple of stove pipes stuck out through the roof near the far end. They walked along the west side of the building and stopped in front of a big double door.

"I'd like a look inside," said Will, "but I'm guessing we don't have time for that today?"

"Oh, I think we have time for a quick peek," said Allan, stepping forward to open one of the doors. "For more detail, you'd be better to come back another day when this stuff is in use and there's someone to show you around. Which, by the way, I think they'd be glad to do."

"OK," said Will, stepping forward to stand beside Allan and look inside.

"In the wall on the right is our charcoal fired crucible furnace and the blower that force feeds it to get the temperature high enough to melt iron," said Allan. "Various sizes of crucibles are sitting on the shelf to the right of the furnace. Just pots made of clay and graphite, which can stand the heat of the iron we melt in them. We can melt about 50 pounds at a time in the biggest crucible. And on the left side is a stack of wooden molds and a box of casting sand."

"That all makes sense," said Will. "What's that contraption in front of the furnace?"

"That's just a big set of tongs that grip the crucible to set it into the furnace and take it out once the metal has melted," said Allan. "Hung, as you can see, from the rafters on chains."

"Right. And I can see the roof framing is all steel too," said Will. "I imagine you get enough sparks flying around here to set wood framing on fire."

"We sure do," said Allan. "Like the sheet steel for the roofs, we picked the I-beams up cheap from businesses that were shutting down. We considered tile for the roofing, but at that point clay was a rarer resource than structural steel.

"Anyway, in the back corner on the right is our forge. And next to it a power hammer, and a small rolling and wire drawing mill."

"And in the corner nearest to us is your welding table?" said Will. He took a step inside to get a better look and took in a nice assortment of electric welding equipment, a plasma cutter, a chop saw and a big heavy duty vise.

"Yep," said Allan. "We decided not to put the effort into manufacturing oxygen and acetylene. The forge, plasma cutter and electric welders do everything we need."

"I see you've got both TIG and MIG welders," said Will. "What do you use for shield gas?"

"Argon," replied Allan. "It makes up almost one percent of the air and liquefies at the high enough temperature that's it's easy to separate out."

"OK, looks like a pretty nice setup. But other than what you bought years ago before the economy shut down, where does all your metal come from?" asked Will. "Surely you're not mining it around here."

"Hardly," answered Allan. "But there is still a lot of scrap metal to be had. We have a close relationship with an auto wrecker a concession north of here and two side roads to the west."

"You've said you avoid using money, so...barter?" asked Will.

"Not likely—barter's really no different from using money, just more awkward," said Allan. "That kind of trading we reserve for strangers we don't trust, but we'd rather not do it at all. So, nope, like I said, it's a close relationship—essentially they are part of our commune. So they supply what they have that we need, and vice versa. No accounting involved."

"You say 'accounting' like it's a dirty word," said Will.

"One of the dirtiest," said Allan. "A tool of domination, oppression and exploitation."

"I won't argue with that," said Will. "Still, metal is a non-renewable resource—whether you're digging it out of the ground or salvaging it. Won't you run out eventually?"

"Sure," said Allan. "But with some care, eventually can be a really long time, especially since we are not committed to growth. The first thing is to use as little metal as possible. And then to make sure what we make from it is durable, easy to fix and easy to recycle. And nothing gets thrown away. We even sweep up the powder that accumulates behind our grinders and sharpeners, and recycle it."

"Well, it doesn't seem like your 'industrial heartland' is continuously spewing out pollution, anyway," said Will, nodding to the chimneys.

"Of course today is a commune wide holiday so nothing is happening here, but other than that, there are two issues, really," said Allan. "First, we don't need to run our factories continuously to pay off the bank or greedy investors. None of this was built with borrowed money. And our economy, such as it is, is based on demand pull rather than supply push. All our equipment works in batch process mode, and only has to run when we need whatever it produces, and then only to produce just as much as we need.

"Second, we've tailored our processes and equipment to limit the amount of pollution we create when this stuff is running. Starting out with scrap iron instead of iron ore, it's a much cleaner process. Not completely clean, but a lot closer than conventional industry."

"So you've got casting, forging and welding covered here," said Will, stepping back out of the doorway. "What's next?"

"The next building is our machine shop," said Allan, closing the door and leading the way over to another set of double doors in the next building to the north. "It doesn't really have to be here, but it's awfully handy to have it next door to the foundry and forge."

"So... lathes, milling machines, drill presses?" asked Will..

"Sure, all those and more," said Allan, opening one of the doors. "Take a look"

Will stepped up to the door and saw a very nicely set up machine shop, much of the equipment the sort that had still been commercially available a decade before, along with some that had clearly been made here at Porcupine since then.

"Our metal working crew, which got together right at the start of things, back in the spring of 2030, ended up in these two buildings, which we built in '33," said Allan. "They repair broken and worn out tools and machinery and build some new from scratch. Without them, we wouldn't have gotten very far. Even starting out with all of Jack's farm machinery."

Will took note that the machine shop had sheet metal walls as well as roof. "And let me guess," he said, "your machine shop is timber framed with the sheet metal on the outside to protect it from stray sparks from adjacent kilns and furnaces."

"Exactly, the machinery in here is not too likely to start a fire" said Alan, stepping back and closing the door. "Moving on, the next building, with rammed earth walls again, is our ceramics and glass shop. There are a couple of wood fired kilns at the back—it's probably worth taking a look at them."

He led the way around to the east side of the building. "The big one there is where we make bricks and tiles as well large runs of pottery, and the little one is for small runs of fine pottery. Anyway, I don't how much you know about ceramics—it's certainly not my specialty."

"It's something I've always been interested in, but never got a chance to try," said Will.

"Well, I guess we should have a look inside anyway, as a shortcut to the other side, if nothing else, " said Allan. He opened the door in the east wall of the building and led the way inside. Will followed, shutting the door behind them. "We had one amateur potter with us from the start and a couple of professionals join us in '32 and a glass blower in '33. Most of what's here is stuff they brought with them. You should have a talk with them this evening.

"About all I can tell you is there are a couple of electric kilns, a glass blowing furnace and another for melting glass to cast it.Plus all the other equipment that's needed for this kind of work. The electric kilns give you more precise control of temperature but the elements wear out, and we don't have a source of the metals needed to make new ones. We've got spares, but they will eventually get used up. Gas and liquid fuels are in short supply, so the plan is to switch over to electric arcs for a heat source—a project still under development."

"Looks good to me," said Will. "Can you make porcelain insulators? For electrical use, you know."

"I do," said Allan. "We don't actually have the right kind of clay locally for porcelain, but we make a type of glazed stoneware insulator that works pretty well."

"You have deposits of clay here on the commune land?" asked Will.

"Yeah..." said Allan. "Not the very best clay for pottery work, but far from the worst either. It is a non-renewable resource though, so we have to be careful how we use it. Broken pottery can be glued back together or ground up and mixed with clay to make new pottery. Makes it go farther and actually better to work with too. So like metal, with some care, clay can be made to go a long way."

"Moving on?" said Will, gesturing to the door in the west wall of the building.

"You bet," said Allan and led the way outside. "The next building to the north is the one I share with the rest of the electrical crew."

This was another structure similar to the machine shop.

"It's divided into three parts," said Allan. "At the south end is a room containing the main power supply for this whole complex. A 600V, three phase, 50 KW generator that powers the heavier equipment, and a 25 KW split phase 120/240V generator for the smaller equipment that needs that sort of power. Both are driven by uniflow steam engines with wood fired boilers. At the north end is a 50 KW DC generator driven by a steam turbine and another wood fired boiler, which powers the Acheson furnace in the chem crew's hot shop, where we produce graphite and silicon carbide for abrasives.

"In the middle is the shop I share with the rest of the power crew, where we build and repair electrical equipment. Motors, transformers, switches, circuit breakers—the kind of thing you used to work on, but on a much smaller scale."

"Now that I'd like to see," said Will.

Allan led the way to the door of the electrical shop and they spent a few minutes looking around inside, and then had a peek at each of the generator rooms.

"This really is impressive," said Will. "The more so since I recognize most of the equipment and know what it's used for. Are you still using digital test equipment, or have you switched back to the old style analog stuff?"

"Some of both," said Allan. "the digital equipment itself is pretty tough and long lasting, but batteries are no longer available, so we've had to set up power supplies to make them work off AC power and they aren't very portable. Eventually, the solid state stuff will wear out and we can't replace it. We've been working on analog meters with fairly sensitive movements, and vacuum tube voltmeters where more sensitivity is needed. Not that hard, it turns out. And doable with the technologies we have at hand."

"Well, they got along just fine with analog meters until the last quarter of the twentieth century," said Will."I could sure spend longer here, but I guess we'd better move on. What's next?"

They exited the electrical shop and again walked northward.

"These two buildings are the realm of our chem crew," said Allan."The first is the chemical hot shop and the second is the 'chem kitchen' where they cook up a great many things. Soap, alcohols, oils and greases, dyes, paints and varnishes, rubber, glues and resins, even some pharmaceuticals."

The first was another rammed earth building. The top of a fractional distillation tower was visible over it. Allan gestured toward this structure. "We don't have any crude oil to refine, but we cook a bunch of different gases and liquids out of wood and use that refinery tower to separate them."

The second building was another steel clad, wood framed building, without the chimneys, but with several pipe stacks penetrating the roof.

Allan walked over to the door in the west side of the hot shop, opened it and stepped in, followed by Will. "To the right is the Acheson furnace I already mentioned. And the rest of this stuff is various reaction vessels for making stuff that needs heat and pressure."

"Did you say you make rubber here?" asked Will.

"I did indeed," answered Allan. "There are just too many things we couldn't make without rubber, so we decided we had to find a way. Rubber trees are out, of course, due to our cold climate, and there is a fungus that is killing them off worldwide these days anyway. But dandelions produce latex too, and one species, the Russian dandelion, is especially good at it. We grow a few acres of it and produce a few hundred pounds of rubber every year from the latex in the roots."

"Amazing," said Will. "I can remember hearing people say that our technology was dependent on a complex, interconnected, global web and once it fell apart, we'd be back to the stone age or medieval times at the very least. Doesn't look like that has happened here."

"Yeah, I've heard people spouting similar nonsense," said Allan, "mainly because they had no idea how anything worked— it all just seemed like magic to them. Knowing how to make stuff is the hard part. It took hundreds if not thousands of years to figure that out in the first place. But once you've got it, and the will to hang onto it..."

"Great things can be done, eh?" said Will.

"Yeah. Dad used to talk about 'self contained suites of technologies' that support each other," said Allan. "You don't have to have the whole of early twenty first century tech to still hang on to some pretty useful stuff. As we've done here.

"We decided that we wanted to have certain things tech wise. And it turned out that each of those things required a certain minimum set of technologies, given the raw materials we have available, to make it possible. And typically each of those technologies required a further set. It might seem like there would be no end to that, but in fact, many of the end products we wanted were supported by the same underlying technologies, so the cascade didn't get out of hand."

"OK, I think I see what you mean," said Will. "Say you decided you couldn't get by without sharp, metal edged tools. The simplest way to do that would be using high carbon steel. Lots of scrap steel around to salvage, charcoal to fire your foundry, silicon carbide for abrasives to sharpen the blades, and so on. I see you have all that in hand. But there must be some technologies that were just too much of a reach...?"

"For sure. We've settled on what amounts to an early twentieth century level of technology," said Allan. "There are a few things we just had to reconcile ourselves to doing without. Solid state electronics is one example. And all the things that cascade out from that. Computers, cell phones, some of the medical tech from the late twentieth and early twenty first centuries. Even relatively simple things like LED lighting and power diodes. We stocked up on those and use them very carefully, so as to make them last."

"Do you think that will ever change?" asked Will.

"Well, we aren't pushing too hard in that direction here at Porcupine," said Allan. "But the newer communes often specialize in one high tech area rather than being generalists like us. I hope one of them will eventually manage to produce some of the simpler types of solid state electronics."

"There'd be quite a market for that," said Will.

"Probably," said Allan. "But reviving a market based economy is not something we're interested in. Whether facilitated by money or barter, as I was saying, we avoid trade like the plague. But we do like to do things that can be helpful to others. I know it sounds pretty simple, but maybe that's why it works so well. With the profit motive gone, people have no real reason to take advantage of each other. Some of the people you'll meet at supper may be able to explain it better than I can."

"OK. Not that I'm doubting what you say, but a deeper understanding might be useful," said Will. "In Inverpen we're only now beginning to get our heads wrapped doing without money and not keeping track of accounts. Some people just worship those ideas and can't seem to let them go."

"Yep, when you've grown up immersed in capitalism, that's a big step to take," said Allan. "Sure simplifies life, though."

"I can see that," said Will.

Allan closed the door of the hot shop and they walked over to have a look in the chem kitchen.

Will had a quick look around inside. "Looks very impressive, though I must say I don't have a clue about what most of this stuff does."

"Me neither," said Allan. "Another time, I am sure the chem crew would be glad to clue you in."

Back outside, Will looked to the north and noticed there was a gap and then more buildings. "Are those buildings part of your industrial setup too?"

"That's our abattoir, tannery and our flax and hemp processing facilities. Many of us don't eat as much meat as we did before coming here, but it is still an important part of our diet. And leather and other animal products are critical parts of those tech suites—the basis of things we are not willing to do without. All of that stuff is pretty smelly, so that's why it is even more isolated," said Allan. "If you look past the tannery, towards the woodlot at the back of this farm you'll see our sawmill and primary firewood drying and storage facility."

"A major part of your operation, I take it, since most of your power comes from firewood," said Will.

"Yes indeed," said Allan. "And we make a lot of things from wood too. Let's not walk all the way back there today, though."

"OK, where to then?" asked Will.

Allan turned and pointed toward the bank barn. "Looks like the milking crew are heading out to bring in the cows and ewes. We should join them and have a look at the north side of the barn and then what's on the east side of it. That'll brings us closer to where we will be eating supper, as well."

Will followed Allan's gesture and saw that three young people had just come out of the big door on the east side of the barn.

"Sounds good to me," said Will. "Let's give them a hand."


Coming soon, episode 14, the tour continues.


Maintaining the lists of links that I've been putting at the end of these posts in getting cumbersome, so I have decided to just include a link to the Porcupine section of the Site Map, which features links to all the episodes I've published thus far.

Thursday, 30 January 2025

The Porcupine Saga, Part 12, The Tour: Part 1

Will Harper, late afternoon, Saturday July 21, 2040

"Well, I guess we should start this tour at the clinic," said Allan, gesturing toward the building Will thought of as the "farm house".

"Clinic...?" said Will, doubt creeping into his voice.

"Yeah. What used to be the farmhouse. It would have taken another hour or two to tell the whole story," said Allan. "So I decided it might be quicker and easier to just show you."

"Okay," replied Will. "Lead on."

They got up from the bench where they'd been sitting on the east side of the hall and headed across the yard, picking their way among the vehicles parked there. The sun was a good deal lower in the sky than when they had first come outside and its heat was a noticeably less oppressive.

"Seems like it isn't all that much hotter here than in Inverpen," said Will.

"It usually is a little hotter here in the summer, but with less humidity than you get along the lake," said Allan. "Leaving the wet bulb temperature about the same. We're lucky in the Great Lakes basin—in the heat of the summer we get some 'siesta weather', when you're wise to take it easy around midday. But we can live without air conditioning, easier actually because after a while people do get used to the heat. Not like lots of places closer to the equator where it really does get hot enough to kill. And has killed many."

"Scary to think about that," said Will.

"Hell yeah," Allan said. "Though for those of us engaged in subsistence farming, droughts are even worse than heat waves. Floods aren't great either. And we've had one or two of both."

"Same thing in and around Inverpen, of course," said Will. "Though we do have the lake to draw on for irrigation."

As they neared the farm house Will noticed a small shed on its west side. He assumed it contained the generator Allan had been talking about earlier. "That your generator shack?" Willa asked, nodding toward it.

"It is," replied Allan. "Not gasoline powered anymore, though. Late in 2030 our 'prime mover' crew put in wood gas producers to fuel all of our generators. Then a few years later, after they'd got steam power down to a science, they put in two generators to power the clinic, each driven by a small steam engine. Along with automatic feed of wood chips to the boilers. Would you like to take a quick peek inside?"

"Yes, definitely," said Will.

They walk over to the shack and Allan opened the door.

Will stepped up to the threshold and took a look at the machinery inside. "Those are slick little engines. Run pretty quiet, too. And it looks like you built the generators here?"

"We bought a bunch of generators in 2030 and we are still using them for the most part. But we've built a few like these ones," said Allan. "Mainly to prove to ourselves that we'll be able to do it when the need arises. They put out up to 12 kW, single phase 120/240 volt."

"Looks pretty impressive to me," said Will. Noting that only one of the gnerators was running, he took a little closer look at the wiring. "They're just backup for each other? You never actually run them in parallel?"

"Yeah, just backup," said Allan. "So we can work on one while the other one supplies the load."

"Right," said Will. "There was a time when you'd have needed someone with a stationary engineer's ticket to run this setup legally. I guess that isn't such a big deal anymore."

"No," replied Allan. "We've never actually had a visit from a TSSA inspector. Though I am sure for the last few years there has been no such thing. We actually do have a couple of guys who are qualified as stationary engineers, and they been big help in making sure our steam power setups are safe."

"Yeah," said Will. "You can get away from regulations, but you still want to run things as safely as possible. So, that hopper to the left of the shack is full of wood chips?"

"Yeah," said Allan. "We don't usually like to make our electrical supplies so easy to use. A little inconvenience reminds folks that electrical power is a luxury that comes with many costs. In the case of the clinic, though, a round-the-clock, on-demand supply is pretty much a necessity."

"I see," said Will, still a little puzzled. "So, I though the plan was to divide the whole of the farmhouse into bedrooms and bathrooms?"

Leading them around to the front porch, Allan said, "Yep, just the living room and the addition at first, but by fall of 2030, the dining room and kitchen too. With the addition of Jack's land, we figured we could support 60 people sustainably, and we were aiming to build accommodation for them all, here and in the second pole barn. 'Course things have changed a little in the meantime..."

They went up the front steps and through the front door. Will took in, with some surprise, what looked like a doctor's waiting room with a receptionist's desk and a row of chairs against one wall.

"I can tell from the look on your face," said Allan, "that this isn't what you expected. To make a long story short, in 2031 we were joined by a couple of nurses, and in 2032 a doctor and a dentist arrived. Shortly after that, the second bird flu hit with a vengeance, and we turned this place into a medical clinic, lab space, hospital and quarantine space for new people, and living quarters for our growing medical staff."

"That makes sense," said Will, "and given that you're talking about a quarantine, I'll bet you made it through that flu better than a lot of communities."

"We did," replied Allan. "We were close to self sufficiency by then and we just locked the place down, quit going anywhere beyond our own borders. The few refugees who made it here on their own went into quarantine upstairs here for a couple of weeks before joining the rest of us. You'll remember the first wave of that flu went on for about 7 months, and then there was a second and third wave. I understand it was pretty deadly and a lot of people didn't make it through elsewhere, but we did pretty well—no fatalities and only a few people who got sick—mostly refugees who were exposed before they arrived. We didn't even lose any of our poultry, though we did move them to a barn on one of the other farms, just to keep them completely isolated."

"Sounds like a much more intelligent response than most places," said Will.

"I think it proved to be just that," said Allan. "Of course we didn't have to worry about the detrimental effects of lockdown on businesses."

"No, I guess not," said Will. "That concern led to all kinds of bad policy, and a lot more grief than was really necessary."

"Which we, fortunately, were spared," said Allan. "Anyway, by the time we'd set up this little medical clinic, provincial support for the health care had disappeared and most of the system along with it, so we've ended up welcoming in unemployed medical staff and providing basic health care to most of this township. Not that that amounts to a whole lot of people."

"There's nothing left in Inverpen but a few alternative practitioners," said Will. "'Wackadoodle' folks, as Sue calls them."

"Yeah, the trouble is that 99% of those alternatives just don't work, " said Allan. "There are a few other communes in Ontario working on pharmaceuticals, low tech medical equipment, and training medical staff to cope with today's conditions. They are just getting started, but I think they have a lot of potential. We may never get back to level of medical services we used to have, but we can still do a hell of a lot better than nothing. And with proper science based medicine at that."

"Right," said Will. "I remember Tom being pretty keen on that, but he also worried that we expect way too much of our medical people. Have you been able to do anything about that?"

Allan sat down on the edge of the desk. "Yeah, Dad felt that there were a lot of unrealistic expectations of health care professionals, both by the professionals themselves and by their patients. He was keen on setting up a health care system that didn't require doctors and nurses to be super human. And that wouldn't constantly be failing because of their failure to live up to those expectations."

Will took a seat on one of the chairs. "And have you managed to do that?"

"To some extent, yes," said Allan. "As has so often been the case, by eliminating capitalism, we've been able to easily overcome problems that were largely a consequence of it.

"Okay, but how does that apply to health care?" asked Will.

"Under capitalism, the profit motive was always getting in the way of health care," said Allan."

"Even when the health care system was socialized like here in Ontario?" Said Will.

"You wouldn't think so, would you?" said Allan. "But right wing governments always wanted to cut budgets and taxes, and so things like health care and education were underfunded, especially under Ford's Conservatives. They wanted to privatize as much health care as possible, so their supporters could turn it into profit centers. Leaving public hospitals understaffed and under resourced. Health care professionals already had a long history of overdoing ableism and the system encouraged a total disrespect for the value of rest."

"At Hydro One there were limits to the hours you could work in a day and a week, for safety reasons," said Will. "But there was no such thing in the healthcare system?"

"Not that was seriously enforced, anyway," said Allan. "We encourage a healthy respect for rest among everyone here. We also take a science based approach to just about everything and with that comes more realistic expectations of our medical people. Plus, they all escaped a system that wasn't working for them or their patients, and they have a strong commitment to stop that from happening again here. So things are working much better."

"Right," said Will. "Meanwhile Dougie Ford is alive and well, presiding over the Golden Horseshoe like a clown at a three ring circus. At least the rest of the province is free to try different and hopefully better ways."

"It doesn't take much to improve on the Conservative's approach, that's for sure," said Allan. "I'm not really the guy to show you around the clinic, so maybe we should move on."

"Sure. I'm curious what the bedrooms you created look like," said Will. Is it possible to have a look here, or have they all been turned into something else?"

"Nope, most of our medical personnel live right here, in the addition," said Allan. "As do Erika and I, since she has spent a lot of time using her biotech and lab skills working on medical issues. Let's have a look."

Allan led the way, opening the door to the addition and closing it behind him after they went through. "Separate ventilation system in here, with positive pressure that keeps us from getting exposed to sick people coming to the clinic."

Allan went to the first door on the right and opened it. "Home sweet home, such as it is" he said and gestured for Will to go in.

Will did so, and took in a room about nine feet wide and twelve feet deep, with a window in the outside wall and a closet in the wall on the left. It's furnishings included a bed, a chest of drawers, a bookshelf, a small desk, a couple of chairs, and in the corner to the right of the door, a composting toilet and a small table with a large pitcher and a basin, both in what appeared to be locally made pottery. Folded towels and face cloths on that table looked to be made locally made as well, not terrycloth but nicely thick and absorbent.

"I see you went ahead with the composting toilets," said Will.

"Oh yeah. It didn't take long for Erika to talk people around," said Allan. "Looking back, I wonder what the big deal was."

"Just a change from what people were used to, I'd guess," said Will. "Most people in Inverpen have a composting toilet now, what with the municipality giving up on infrastructure maintenance a few years ago. And with needing good rich compost for our gardens, without which most of us wouldn't eat nearly as well."

"Do you find it's enough private space for the two of you?" said Will.

"It's not much, but it's enough," said Allan. "Our lives are centered on the common spaces. All we do here is sleep and have occasional private discussions."

"Right," said Will. "and, ahem, bed sports."

Allan raised an eyebrow at this and blushed a little. "I don't think I've ever heard it called that. But yes."

Sensing the need for a change of subject, Will pointed to a violin case sitting on top of one of the dressers. "I see you still have your fiddle."

Looking relieved, Allan said, "Sure do. I am part of a pretty good bluegrass group and second violin in several different chamber music groups. Unfortunately, the best chamber music is pretty hard and we're just sort of hacking our way through it as yet."

"I take it recorded music isn't readily available?" said Will.

"No it isn't. We do have a few computers still operating, but we reserve them for only the most critical tasks," said Allan. "Some of us have collections of vinyl and CD's, but equipment to play them is getting pretty thin on the ground. So we've come to prefer live entertainment. It helps to fill in the slow times, especially in the winter."

"I hope we'll get to hear some of that blue grass tonight," said Will.

"You know, I think you just might," said Allan.

Looking again at the wash stand in the corner, another question occurred to Will. "Uh... I see you don't have running water in your room?"

Allan sat down on the edge of the bed and gestured for Will to take one of the chairs. "One thing that really surprised me about this place is that the whole 'needs and wants' thing has turned out to be a false distinction."

"You'll have to explain what you mean by that," said Will. "And how it relates to running water."

Allan chuckled. "Okay. What we have here is a co-production system—the consumers and the producers are the same people and they also get to decide what is or isn't produced. This means that if there is a consensus about producing something then we can just do that. Whether something is a want or a need really doesn't come into it. Instead it is a matter of having the desire to make it happen, and seeing if we have the tools, materials, skills and labour time left over from all the other things we are already doing, or if we'd like to stop making something else in order to make this.

"We have a well defined process for getting on top of all this information, so people don't have to guess as to what the facts of the matter are. People do guard their spare time jealously, though, so that's often the critical factor. That and getting enough people behind an idea. Which is the shape that politics takes here at Porcupine."

"So you decided that making the pipe and plumbing fittings and fixtures just wasn't worth the effort?" said Will.

"Not in the quantities that would be needed to put them in every room. Especially since there is a sink and hot and cold running water only a few steps down the hall," said Allan. "And making that work took a lot less effort. There are a lot of mass produced materials that we used to take for granted—plywood, pipe, wire and various sorts of hardware—that would require a level of industrialization that we simply aren't up for. Our industrial setup is the next item but one on this tour, so..."

"So we should get moving," said Will. "Your dad always used to say that accepting a minor loss of convenience and comfort could drastically reduce the burden we place on the planet."

"Yep," said Allan. "He had that right for sure. What few of us understood was how easy it was to give up such things, especially in return for the pluses of living here, which are pretty major."

They both stood and walked out of the room and down the hallway.

"This addition is more than twice the size it was ten years ago. We added the new section in 2034, making more room for our medical staff and their families. By then the local building inspector had joined us, and left the municipality to shut down its building department, so we were free to build as we liked. Though we take building safety pretty seriously ourselves, especially with the former inspector here giving us advice. But that's a story for another time. You'll probably meet Pete at supper though, and he'll want to talk your ear off."

They went out back door of the addition and paused on the porch at the top of the steps. "That field ahead and on the right is our visiting horse paddock," said Allan, "and that shed is where the visiting horses can get out of the weather."

"Everybody out here has switched over to horses then?" asked Will.

"Hmmp, what most people have switched to is shank's mare," said Allan.

"My mother—your grandmother—used to use that term," said Will. "Fancy way of saying 'walking'."

"Yep," said Allan, "and walking is what we do for the most part. Breeding up a population of horses is a slow process, and we've concentrated mainly on draft horses. They are in one of the fields behind the barn—we'll have a look on our way by. The riding horses you see here are from elsewhere. There are a few people in the area who have made breeding them up a higher priority. I guess they want to get around more than we do. Or maybe they just like riding."

"You Porcupiners are more self contained?" asked Will.

"That's part of it," said Allan, "but mainly we've chosen to focus on other areas. The riding horse nuts for the most part don't have electricity, for instance."

"A matter of different priorities then?" said Will,

"Exactly," replied Allan, leading the way along the fence toward the shed. "And many of those folks already had horses before things fell apart, so they had a head start."

"Sure," said Will, stopping to lean against the fence."By the way, these are nice board fences."

"Not by choice—nobody is making page wire anymore," said Allan. "This is the best we can do with local materials. As I was saying, it turns out that large quantities of galvanized steel wire would be pretty challenging to produce—same kind of thing as copper pipe. White paint is a challenge too, and it is traditional on board fences like this. We just give them a coat linseed oil every so often to protect them from the weather. That's something we have lots of—the oil, I mean."

"I prefer the look of natural wood, anyway," said Will.

All this made Will think of his father. Charlie had truly loved horses, farming with them for a couple of decades before he got his first tractor in the early 1950s. He still kept draft horses for ten years after that, claiming they were better for many jobs around the farm. Will had missed all that, not being born until 1965. But Charlie had found he just missed horses too much and got a couple of riding horses when Will was about 5. Will had learned to ride and take care of horses and though he had little to do with them after leaving the farm, he still had a keen appreciation for the animals. Here he noticed mainly bay quarter horses and a couple of pintos with some Appaloosa blood in them. All fine looking animals that were obviously well cared for.

"Nice bunch of horses, not suffering a bit," he said.

"I guess so, though I'm no expert" said Allan. "The water trough's full. They've got shade from the maples along the fence by the road and lots of nice green grass. And they seem to be getting along, even though I'm sure some of them are strangers to each other. I wasn't in favour of setting up this pasture. But there are quite a few more horses here today than usual, and this field gets to collect some horseshit it wouldn't otherwise. Maybe not such a bad idea after all."

"This is part of that politics you were talking about?" asked Will.

"You're asking because the commune went ahead and did something I disagreed with?" said Allan.

"Well, yeah," said Will. "I thought everything was supposed to be done by consensus...."

"Oh, I could have blocked the idea," said Allan. Takes three of us to block, and I wasn't alone in having doubts. Or 10 percent of those present abstaining has the same result, and in this case that was a closer thing. But people get tired of having their ideas stomped on, and if you're the one always doing the stomping, then when you're trying to get something approved, it doesn't go as smoothly as it might otherwise. So... you have to ask yourself how important it really is, and if it's not very, you don't make a big deal of it. I've had lots of support over the years, so I don't make much of a fuss unless I think something is a really bad idea.

"All in all I find this system works pretty well. Better than the alternatives, for sure. Many brains together work better than one. When an idea doesn't get approved, it's rarely because it's been blocked or a lot of people have abstained. More likely it gets sent back to be reworked by the crew or individual who brought it up. Sent back with a bunch of good, helpful ideas for how it could be improved. People also ask around and get others' opinions before bringing up an idea to the group as a whole. So the really lame brained stuff gets filtered out."

"But surely you get the odd person who just doesn't want to get along," said Will. "Seems to me, if they didn't care about consequences, they could make things pretty miserable for everyone here."

"Yep, could happen," said Allan. "Has happened occasionally. But we follow the principle of voluntary association—no one has to join our group, or stay a part of it, if they don't want to. And if, as you say, they don't want to get along, pretty soon they won't want to hang around either. Living this close together, conflict is pretty miserable, even if you start out thinking that a little conflict might be fun. Once a week we take a vehicle into Inverpen, and there's always a seat for anyone who wants to leave.

"Plus, we have a long tradition, started by Dad during our first Tuesday night meeting, of people taking a long walk to decompress. Many have found that it helps. And once or twice a long walk has turned into never coming back."

"But after ten years, you are still a going concern," said Will, "so you can't have too many problems."

"Seems not," said Allan. "We make every effort to mediate and resolve interpersonal conflicts, of course. We've all had training on participatory democracy, mediation and things like developing emotional intelligence. It all helps. And it does work, except when it doesn't, people being what they are."

"No doubt," said Will. "What's next on this tour?"

Allan stepped back from the fence they'd been leaning on and turn around, pointing north. "Well, that row of buildings is our industrial heartland, so to speak."

"Really?" said Will in a doubtful tone.

"I'm not entirely serious," said Allan with a grin. "We don't have anything on the scale of chemical valley in Sarnia, or the steel mills in Hamilton. But what little we have of that sort is concentrated here. Given your background, I think you'll find this quite interesting."

"Great," said Will. "Let's have a look."


Coming soon, Porcupine Saga Part 13, The Tour: Part 2



Links to the rest of this series of posts:
The Porcupine Saga

Maintaining the lists of links that I've been putting at the end of these posts in getting cumbersome, so I have decided to just include a link to the Porcupine section of the Site Map, which features links to all the episodes I've published thus far.

Sunday, 23 June 2024

The Porcupine Saga, Part 11, When We Met Jack, Part 5

Allan Harper, morning, Thursday, April 11, 2030

Allan got up earlier than usual the next morning, anticipating Jack's arrival and hoping to help cut down a couple of cedar trees to make posts for Porcupine's new sign. He hadn't quite finished eating when Tom, Mark and Jim arrived in the dining room. He raised an eyebrow at his dad, who replied, "The building crew has claimed the addition and the school is in the living room, so we—we're the finance crew—are going to convene here."

"I'll just get out of your way," said Allan, and he started to get up with the intention of finding another place to finish his porridge.

"Hang on there, Allan," said Tom. "I think you should consider joining us."

"Me?" he replied. "Why would I be on the finance crew? I didn't bring anything but pocket change with me when I came here, and I'm no genius with money. From where I am sitting, one of the best things about Porcupine is that we are not supposed to be using money."

"And that's why I think you should be on this team," said Tom. "Look around you at who is about to sit down—Jim, Mark and me—all old people who brought pensions and investments with them. It seems that, like you, everyone else is hesitant to join us, and I see a division in the making. We need you and maybe one other person to even out the representation a bit."

"OK," said Allan somewhat doubtfully. "If you haven't picked anyone else yet, maybe Wilf would be a good choice?"

"Sounds good to me," said Tom. "if no one has any objections, maybe you could go find him and bring him back to join us? After you finish breakfast, of course"

The rest of the finance crew were fine with it, so Allan wolfed down the rest of his porridge, and headed out the back door toward the machine shed, where he expected to find Wilf. Five minutes later he was back with both Wilf and Miles in tow. "Hope nobody minds, Miles wanted to join us as well."

"That makes six of us," said Tom, "Should be OK. Any objections?"

There were none, so Tom went on, "In a crew like this we shouldn't need a facilitator, and I'm not trying to set myself up as one. But there are a few things I wanted to say..."

"Just go for it, Dad," Allan said.

"OK," said Tom. "So, we're the finance crew and as I see it, our job is going to be tallying up what our financial resources are, and then have a look at what we can do within those limits.

"But first, I have to say how much it irks me that we are having to worry about money at all. I know, this isn't a surprise, but still.... What we should be able to do, when a project is proposed, is find a way to doing it using our own materials, equipment and skills. We'd figure out what it's going to 'cost' in terms of materials and labour, decide if we want to make that investment and if so go ahead. Mark my word, money is going to distort our thinking and keep us tied up in the system we came here to escape."

"I see your point, Tom," said Jim, "and I guess that will be true eventually for most projects, but there'll still be some that need specialized tools and materials that have to come from outside Porcupine. Currently we're talking about bringing in quite a load of materials because we aren't set up as yet to take trees from our wood lot and turn them into lumber. But it's still nowhere near 100%. The changes we're talking about doing to this house, for instance, will require some lumber, drywall and hardware, but the biggest input is the house itself, which we already own. Most of the value of the end product is already here. Same with the pole barns.

"So don't feel so bad, Tom. A year from now we'll have a sawmill running and stacks of lumber drying."

"I suppose you're right, Jim," replied Tom. "Wherever possible this crew should, in my opinion, focus on spending that helps us become more self sufficient. I'm not sure if this building program does that."

"Maybe not, but we need more people and they'll need a place to sleep," said Jim. " Anyway, you asked me to tally up some figures on our current income and expenditures. Maybe I should present them?"

"Yeah, for sure, go ahead," said Tom.

There was a white board at the south end of the dining room. Jim stepped up to it, picked up a marker and wrote a figure at the top left. "OK," he said, "this is our currently monthly income from pensions."

Writing a smaller figure under the first one, he said, "And this is what we are currently spending on groceries, utilities, property taxes and so forth."

Jim did the math and wrote down the difference. "This is the amount we have monthly to spend on materials, tools, equipment, seeds, nursery stock, livestock and such. The point being to produce most of our own food, fibre, lumber, energy and so forth, and in the process to increase the amount left over for outfitting. That won't really take off until sometime in the summer."

"It's not really very much money, and there is a lot we want to do. But fortunately we also have some money in the bank and some investments." He wrote another, larger figure in the upper right, and a smaller figure underneath it.

"The larger number is the total of our investments, and the smaller number is how much return we are getting yearly," said Jim. "Because of the depression, that number isn't as large as it once would have been. I think we can expect to see it get smaller, as well. At some point I think that our pensions will get discounted too, maybe even dry up altogether. So we should aim to convert our money into more concrete investments that aren't at the mercy of the failing capitalist economy. And as Tom says, to make sure those investments end up making us much more self-sufficient than we are now."

"That's good information, and more money than I thought we had," said Allan. "But exactly what is this crew supposed to be doing? And how are we going to do it?"

"I guess we are supposed to look at all the projects people are proposing, what they'll cost and which ones we can afford to do, given the available funds," said Tom.

"Projects, eh?" said Wilf. "I gather the building crew are costing out the projects we discussed last night?"

"I believe so," said Tom.

"Well then," said Wilf, "is there much we can do until they have a lists of projects and costs drawn up. I mean beyond what Jim has already done?"

"Well..." said Tom "It does look like maybe we've done what we can financially. I think the building crew is just looking at the partitions project so far. Maybe we could come up with a longer list of projects. And maybe we should inventory the materials, tools and equipment we do have on hand. Maybe even tackle those piles of stuff in the barn..."

At that point, the front door opened. Andrea, Terry and Jack made their way in and through to the dining room.

"Mornin'," said Jack. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you folks."

"Could it wait until we are done here?" asked Tom.

"Well, I think maybe not, since it does bear on what I gather you're discussing. ," said Jack, nodding to the figures on the white board. "First thing I want to ask is this—how does one go about joining your outfit?"

"Well, so far, it's been by invitation only," said Tom, a smile forming on his face. "Are you saying you'd like to join?"

"Yeah, I am, actually," said Jack.

"Well then, you're in," said Tom, "welcome aboard!"

"That's all there is to it?" asked Jack.

"No need for more, really," said Tom.

"Just minute Tom," said Mark. "You know damn well there is a bunch of paper work that has to be taken care of. Especially since you are turning over a lot of private property to the commune, Jack. Tom did fill you in on how this place works, right? Especially the part about property?"

"Yeah—as I understand it, I just gave you 200 acres of land," replied Jack, "plus all my buildings and machinery and what little hay, straw and grain is still in the barn. And, oh yes, my pensions, cash and investments as well. Everything but what you folks recognize as my personal property."

"That's right," said Mark. "You're OK with that?"

"Strangely enough, I am," said Jack. "You know I don't want to leave my farm. But when Tom and Allan arrived yesterday, I had just about decided that there's no way to make it all work. I spent half of last night thinking about it, and it seems to me that joining Porcupine is the only way for me to have my cake and eat it too. Seeing as how my place now belongs to us all, in some sense of the word, it still belongs to me. Or a share in it anyway."

"That's true," said Tom. "Though, as I found out in the meeting last night, with consensus decision making you sometimes have to step back and let the group do what it wants with property that used to be yours."

"I can see that," said Jack. "I think I can live with it. And I'm looking forward that training on participatory democracy. Can't come soon enough."

"I think Angie made some phone calls first thing this morning," said Tom. "She's waiting for them to get back to her with dates for the training."

"That's good," said Jack. "Now, I think I mentioned yesterday that I have a couple of kids in Alberta who I don't really get along with. I know they are expecting an inheritance from me. When they hear that I've given away the farm, they won't be happy. So we'd better make this transfer of ownership bullet proof, legally speaking."

"That's the reason for the paper work," said Mark.

"Good. We'll get to that before the end of the day," said Jack. "From the figures on the board there, I gather you folks here are trying to figure out how to get properly set up with the limited money you've got?"

"Well, yeah," said Tom. "I was thinking it's going to be pretty tight."

"I can understand that," said Jack. "Mainly because I've got a big chunk of what you need, and I know how much it cost to put together. But maybe I've just solved part of your problem, eh."

"Hell yes," said Tom, "why don't you sit down and join us for a bit. Mark, you can have him after lunch."

"I'll hold you to that," said Mark.

"OK," said Jack. "I see you started by inventorying your financial resources. You can add mine to that. Jim, here are the numbers..."

Jack dictated pension, investment, utility bill and property tax numbers to Jim, who added them to the totals on the white board.

"OK, that looks a bit better—even with my expenses added in," said Jack. "You're buying your groceries retail in Inverpen?"

"We're buying as much as we can in bulk, but yes," answered Jim.

"Well, I've got some contacts who would be glad to supply you with meat, eggs and even some grains," said Jack. "And all at better prices than you're getting at the supermarkets. Especially with what inflation has done to food prices the last few years."

"Thanks, Jack," said Jim. "I think we'll want to take you up on that."

"OK," said Jack. "I'm glad to help. The next thing you need to do is inventory the tools, equipment, materials and such that you—I should say we—have on hand. I think we need to go through those piles in the pole barn and sort out what's personal property and what now belongs to the commune. And then you—we—need to do the same at my place. This has to be a first priority so you don't go spending money on things you've already got."

"Actually, we were just starting to discuss that, Jack," said Tom. "I've got a bunch of hardware left over from building a house years ago that will save us some money on the projects we are currently considering. I also suspect that the tradesmen and hobbyists among us have enough hand tools so that we don't need to buy more."

"You're likely right there," said Jack. "I guess the next thing would be to list the projects we want to tackle and figure out what order they need to be done in. Then we can start figuring out how much each project will cost. Have you got a building crew set up yet?"

"Yes, they're meeting in the addition right now," said Tom, "working on plans and a bill of materials for the partition project. Between us here, the sign crew, the building crew and homeschooling for the youngsters, there aren't any people free this morning. Sounds like this finance crew needs to switch to doing that inventory, and maybe coming up with a list of projects."

"Sounds like that to me," said Jack. "It may be that my carpentry background would be of help to the building crew. So I think I'll join them once I get done with Mark. That is, if Andrea and Terry don't mind. Maybe we can leave that sign until tomorrow..."

"Sure," said Andrea, "if that's OK by you, Terry?"

"I'm good with it," said Terry. "Hope I can get on that inventory crew."

"Me too," said Andrea. "Does your crew have room for a couple more people, Grandpa?"

"There are already six of us," said Tom. "But we could split into two groups--there's enough stuff to inventory that we won't get in each others' way."

"I'm going to leave you to that, and go touch base with the building crew," said Jack."And after that I'm all yours Mark, and we can take care of that paper work."

"I'll just come along," said Mark, "and introduce you as our newest Porcupiner."

Allan watched them go and then turned to his step-son Miles, "Well, I guess we've got some inventory to do."

"Not so fast, Allan" said Tom. "Between now and lunch, and I hope that's all the time it takes, we need to sit down here and figure out a set of guidelines for personal versus commune property. That way we can run them by the whole group right after lunch and get group approval."


Allan Harper, late afternoon, Saturday, July 21, 2040

"Well, we did figure out those guidelines by noon, and got approval from the whole commune after lunch, with only minor changes. Then we spent a few days on inventory, drawing up our list of projects, prioritizing them and figuring out what the ones near the top would cost," said Allan. "It wasn't that long, though, before we started the actual work and we've been at it ever since. You've already seen the sign over the gate, and the inside of our pole bar/hall, but I think we are finally to the point where we can start that tour I've been promising you, Uncle Will. You know, so I can actually show you what we've built over the last decade."

"Sounds good to me," said Will. "Let's do it."


Coming soon, Porcupine Saga Part 12, The Tour



Links to the rest of this series of posts:
The Porcupine Saga

Maintaining the lists of links that I've been putting at the end of these posts in getting cumbersome, so I have decided to just include a link to the Porcupine section of the Site Map, which features links to all the episodes I've published thus far.

Monday, 3 June 2024

The Porcupine Saga, Part 10, When We Met Jack, Part 4

Allan Harper, evening, Wednesday, April 10, 2030

It had started raining so no one went outside during the break and Angie had light work getting everyone back into the addition for the second half of their meeting.

"We were going to hear reports from the metal working crew and the legal crew next," said Angie, "and we still will, but something else has come up. Jodie, why don't you come up here."

Jodie, Wilf and Cindy's teenage daughter, joined Angie at the front of the room. She had her father's height and lean build and her mother's blond hair and blue eyes. "For those who haven't been introduced, I'm Jodie Janes. This is only my second day here, so I don't really know what I think of the place yet. But do I have a couple of questions. The first is—I'm only sixteen, do I get to speak in these meetings? And I'll just get the second one in before it turns out that I don't. If you have to be an adult to get a private room, when does one become an adult?"

"Good questions, Jodie," replied Angie. "And ones that I don't think we've even thought about yet."

"Well, some of us have been thinking about it more than you know," said Jodie. "Jane and I were discussing this sort of thing in our 'home schooling' session this afternoon. She has some interesting ideas."

"Jane?" said Angie.

"Actually, Jodie is the one with the ideas," said Jane, "I was just encouraging her. Let's let her tell us about it."

"OK," said Angie. "And I guess until we can see some good reason to decide otherwise, you do get to speak in these meetings. Any objections?"

There were none and Angie gestured for Jodie to go ahead.

"Maybe I should think about what I'm getting myself into here," said Jodie with a grin. "But best not to waste the opportunity, I guess. It seems like we are rejecting much of our conventional North American culture. That culture is such a mess that it's probably a good thing to be rid of. But this means we're starting from scratch here, making up a new culture as we go along. Last night Tom did a good job of outlining some parts of that new culture, but there are things he left out.

"Much of that comes under the category of what Jane tells me is called 'reproductive labour'—the things we have to do to make sure there is a new generation to carry on after us. Not just gestation and child care, but passing on our culture to the next generation, as well. Even though we are inventing it as we go along, in this case.

"Actually, Tom, you did mention this last night, and that's what got us talking about it. Mostly, Jane and I were talking about the stages you go through as you grow up, and how a culture supports that growth and marks the occasion of moving from one stage to another. She tells me it's called a 'rite of passage' and consists of some sort of test to see if you're ready and, if you pass, of some sort of celebration to welcome you to the next stage.

"It might seem odd that this comes up when we're just talking about housing, but not really. So far, if I understand correctly, we've decided that babies and toddlers will live with their parents until they are of 'school age', whatever that means. Somewhere from age 4 to 6, I guess. Then they will move to a bunkroom with other kids of the same gender. And then at some point, when they are old enough to be considered adults, they get a room of their own. Andrea, is that the gist of what you've written down?"

"Yeah, that's basically it," replied Andrea.

"OK, I have a few suggestions for fine tuning that plan," said Jodie. "First, has anybody thought to ask the younger kids what they think of the bunkroom idea?" asked Jodie.

Some shook their heads, others got a sheepish look on their faces.

"Not to worry," said Jodie, "'cause I have. We've got two boys who are brothers (my brothers, actually) and two girls who are sisters (Jane's girls), and in both cases they are used to sharing a room. So no problem there. Right guys?"

The youngsters indicated their agreement, and Jodie went on, "as Jane and my mom mentioned earlier, it will be interesting to see how it goes when we get some more kids that aren't related, but I guess that's a bridge to cross when we come to it, and having some trained mediators should help.

"We don't have any babies here as yet, but thinking ahead, I've done some babysitting and I've noted that the culture we are leaving isolates new parents at a time when they really need a lot of help. And hardly bothers to acknowledge their efforts as work, either gestation or child rearing. Often a single mother is left to work and try to manage child care at the same time. And nobody seems to think there's anything wrong with that—sure it's tough, but it's the mother's problem, maybe even her 'fault'. I think we should arrange for parents of babies and young kids to get some rest and even a little, ahem, privacy from time to time. Maybe this can be done without building any special rooms, or maybe we want to have a nursery or a bunkroom with training wheels, so to speak. But parents should get lots of help from the rest of us. And recognition for the vital work they are doing.

"Anyway, kids keep growing and get to a point where they can be a little more independent and bunkrooms would be OK. As Mom said, we should get some input from parents of the kids as to when they should make that move. Also from the kids themselves. And have parents, or at least adults, nearby for when the kids need some guidance.

"The next big change happens at puberty. Ages vary, but it's something we all go through and I'd argue for putting us in private rooms at that point. But at the very least you should have another set of bunk rooms, separate from the younger kids.

"I'm a teenager, and I can tell you from being in the middle of it that the whole thing is a mess. Maybe, as some say, we do kind of go crazy for a few years. And how could we not—we're left floating, with no idea of how we fit in. I'd say it should be a training period, with a definite goal of being welcomed as an adult at the end, fully aware of adult rights and responsibilities. We have to be able to do better than conventional society is currently doing, anyway. That society has moved adulthood later and later during the last century or so. I would argue that we should move in the opposite direction, especially since our community seems prepared to support its members when it is time for them to take on a new role. Taken to the extreme that would mean rolling puberty and the transition to adulthood into a single event. Some cultures have done this.

"Anyway, moving on, I haven't heard any talk about where the older people fit in, even though we have quite a few of them," said Jodie. "You all seem hale and hearty at the moment, and that's great, but as time passes this will change and we need to accommodate your decline while still encouraging you to contribute. The idea being that you are still seen as a resource, rather than as a burden. Housing wise, at the very least, we'll need rooms you can access without stairs and that are handy to the dining room."

"Well, I think I've about run out of steam for now" Jodie said after a brief pause. "Thanks for listening."

"Jodie, that's an amazing bunch of ideas just from one afternoon of discussion with Jane." said Angie. "I'm very impressed and I think we own you both a vote of thanks."

The group responded with applause, plus various hooting and hollering from the more rambunctious among them.

When they had quieted down Angie went on, ""So, like I just said, that was a great speech, and you kinda snuck in the bit about you having an adult room and not being stuck in a bunkroom with younger kids. I don't blame you and you may well be right—if we put you in with the younger girls, you just end up as a full time baby sitter for the next few years, which wasn't the intention. I take it you really aren't keen on that either?"

Jodie shook her head, "Nope."

"OK," said Angie, "without setting a precedent, which we don't have to do since we haven't yet adopted any out of date rules of order, I'd suggest we give you a room across the hall from the bunkrooms, and put the parents of the younger kids in the other two rooms in the addition. That way, if they need any guidance, there'll always be someone handy. But it only needs to be you if the parents aren't available, and it can be recognized as part of your 'shit jobs' hours if you wish."

"I guess I can live with that," said Jodie, "even though it means my room will be right next to my parents."

"Hardly the end of the world, Jodie," said Cindy, Jodie's mom. "This puts us back pretty much the way we had things before ocming here, but with a clearer plan for what to do when it is time for you to move out on your own."

"Yeah..." said Jodie. "Depending on how you look at it, I'll be moving out as soon as the new rooms are ready, or since you'll always be within shouting distance, I'll never really be moving away. But not to worry. I think this place offers opportunities for independence without taking on as much risk as many young people have to do these days."

"Right," said Angie. "Also bear in mind that room assignments may have to change as more people arrive And actually, I guess I am a bit out of line here. We should check what the group thinks."

As it turned out, they were all happy with Jodie's suggestions.

"OK, now I guess we can move on to the metal crew's report," said Angie. "Don, you're on."

Allan's mind started to wander as the metal working crew reported on what they'd been doing, and what they intended to be able to do. He couldn't help thinking back to what Jack had asked that afternoon. Where did he fit in? It seemed like you had to be part of a crew to make much of an impression at Porcupine. So far, he'd been working on his own, with a bit of help from Tom now and then. It looked to him like they needed a power crew. Especially if they were going to make electrical power out of firewood. Then there was what his father had said about caring enough to have the reach to attain certain technologies. It seemed an about face from what Tom had said the night before, but he thought he understood what Tom meant—some things might just take more effort than they were worth. Allan wanted to make sure that was looked into in detail, not just based on the assumptions of an influential guy like his dad. So maybe a "tech reach" crew as well.

He resolved to bring this up at the end of the meeting and then returned his attention to Don's presentation for the metal working crew. Don was just wrapped up with a quick summary of the things they hope to be able to make for the Co-operative. It was a pretty comprehensive list.

Next, the legal crew was called on for their report. Mark made it short—if they jumped through the right legal hoops and submitted the right forms, it seemed like they could set up a non-profit co-operative dedicated to the goals Tom had outlined the night before. With official government recognition, which would be useful as long as governments were still functioning—a few years yet, anyway. If no one had any objections, he would start on that tomorrow. And no one did object.

"OK," said Angie, "Anyone have anything else before we pack it in for the night?"

Allan put up his hand and was recognized.

"I just have an idea for a couple of new crews which I think we should look at putting together," he said. "A power crew to do the job I'm doing now with generating electricity, and a 'tech reach crew' to look at how high tech (or low tech) we want to go."

"Sounds good," said Angie. "Andrea can add those to the list of crews we'll start setting up tomorrow, but I think the way that has worked so far is that whoever sees the need for a crew rounds up some like minded people and goes for it."

"OK," said Allan. "I'll have a go at that real soon now."

"Nobody else?" asked Angie. No hands went up, so she continued, "Right, it's getting late, so I think I'll declare the meeting closed for the night."

A glance outside made it clear to Allan that it was still raining, and it didn't seem fair to expect Jack to walk home. Everyone else was standing up and stretching so Allan took the opportunity to do the same and then went over to Jack. "It's raining pretty hard, would you like a ride home?"

"Hell yes—I'm no bear for punishment," said Jack, "and I'm supposed to be back here first thing tomorrow morning, so I'd better get home and get to bed. Lead on."

Allan turned back to Erika for a moment, explaining where he was going. "OK, I'll be in bed when you get back—it's been a long day," she replied.

Allan led the way to the back door, and they grabbed their coats from where they'd hung them before supper. Allan selected a set of keys from a board where the keys for all Porcupine's vehicles were hung on hooks.

"Nothing for it but to run," Allan said. "It's the red Chevy Bolt on this side of the lot."

He put his head down and ran for the car, unplugged the charge cord and got in the driver's seat. Jack joined him only seconds later. The car was already pointed towards the road, so all Alan had to do was turn it on and hit the accelerator. Mindful of that bridge, he turned right and headed for the next side road to the west.

They had just turned onto the side road when Jack spoke up, "I guess I should have thanked you folks for letting me sit in on your meeting."

"Oh, no problem there," replied Allan, "you were a pretty quiet observer, anyway."

"Just taking things in," said Jack. "I must say you folks make consensus decision making look easy."

"Yeah, that amazes me too," said Allan.

"What was it David Graeber said?," said Jack "Something about how consensus isn't about argument. It's about changing things around: you get a proposal, you work something out, people foresee problems, you find solutions. At the end, you come up with something that everyone thinks is okay. Most people like it, and nobody hates it."

"Wow," said Allan. "I'm impressed that anybody around here would have even heard of Graeber, much less be able to quote him from memory. I only know the name because Dad is a big fan."

"Well," said Jack, "I picked that up from Tom's blog. And I probably messed the quote up, but you get the idea."

"I think we all do get the idea, and everybody is trying to make it work," said Allan, "rather than deliberately trying to screw it up, anyway, which makes it a lot easier."

"Although Angie did kinda dodge the toilet issue..." said Jack.

"Yeah she did," said Allan. "Hopefully, with a few days to think about it, people won't get surer they hate it. I'm already less upset than I was when Erica brought the idea up."

"Well, I hope you're right" said Jack. "And my driveway's the next on the right."

Allan pulled in, turned around and came to a stop with Jack's side of the car right next to his porch.

"I hope you can leave that shotgun locked up for now Jack," he said as Jack got out of the car.

"Yeah, well... I've had a chance to rethink things," said Jack, "and now I'm thinkin' there's nothin' worth huntin' that's in season this time of year."

"That's the spirit," said Allan. "See you in the morning?"

"Yep, I'll be around about nine with a tractor and chainsaw," said Jack. "See you then."


Coming soon, Part 11 of the Porcupine Saga.



Links to the rest of this series of posts:
The Porcupine Saga

Maintaining the lists of links that I've been putting at the end of these posts in getting cumbersome, so I have decided to just include a link to the Porcupine section of the Site Map, which features links to all the episodes I've published thus far.

Tuesday, 28 May 2024

The Porcupine Saga, Part 9, When We Met Jack, Part 3

Allan Harper, evening, Wednesday, April 10, 2030

During supper Angie had warned the Porcupiners that they needed to have another meeting, and she was at the front of the room by the time Allan took a seat next to Erika. Jack sat down on the other side of Allan.

Angie cleared her throat and the conservations died down. "Well, here we all are again for another Tuesday night meeting, and it's only Wednesday. I suspect this will happen a lot for the first while. Several of the crews have reports to give, and there are decisions to be made. And on that note, I must say that I'm not up to facilitating and scribing at the same time. We need to keep track of decisions reached and action items assigned."

Gesturing with her clipboard and pen, Angie said, "Andrea, could you join me up here?"

"Sure thing, Angie," replied Andrea, and got up to join Angie at the front. Sitting down, she put pen to paper with a flourish and said, "OK, I'm ready, go for it."

"One small point before we go to the crew reports," said Angie. "I notice Jack has joined us. Does anybody have a problem with that?"

No one did. "What about him taking part in the discussion?"

Again, no one objected.

"OK," said Angie, "Jack, I have to tell you that if you get out of line, I'm going to jump on you a little harder than I would on the rest of these folks, since you don't have as much riding on what we decide."

"All I want to do is listen," said Jack.

"That'll work," said Angie, "Now, it's hard to say who should come first, so I'm going to just go with the order in which the crews approached me. Erika, that means the housing crew is up first."

Erica got up and made her way to the front. With a nod to Tom she said, "Well, I got picked to present what we've found and what we suggest doing about it. Most of what we have is questions—I hope we can answer them tonight."

"Go ahead," said Angie.

"Well, we think that first we need to decide what level of accommodations we are going to provide for people," said Erika. "At one extreme we could have people sleeping on mattresses in one of the pole barns, with essentially no privacy, shared washrooms and a shared kitchen and dining room. Our most basic needs would be met and it wouldn't tax our resources very much at all, since most everybody came with a mattress or two and some bedding.

"At the other extreme, we could commit to providing separate houses for everyone. I suspect that would take more resources than we have available."

"Sounds to me like when you say 'resources', you're talking about money, energy, materials and manpower," said Angie. "But I'd say the most basic resource we're considering here is privacy. I suspect we already have something of a consensus on that. Is anyone willing to accept the minimum privacy option?"

This question met with a chorus of noes from everybody except Tom.

He put up his hand and Angie nodded for him to go ahead. "When I started planning out this place, I was thinking of something pretty much like Erica's minimum privacy option, with the addition of privacy screens between each family's area on the floor of the second pole barn. I know it doesn't sound very pleasant, but I'm not sure that we can afford to spend a whole lot on accommodations this spring, when we should be concentrating on self sufficiency. Later on, sure, using our own materials, once we are set up to produce them, but not just yet."

"Can you stand to wait until we decide what level of accommodations we do want to go with, Tom?" asked Angie.

"Sure," said Tom, "better to know exactly what I'm disagreeing with, eh?"

"Exactly," said Angie, "so, given our common cultural background, it's not surprising we only have one person in favour of the minimum privacy option, and that for financial reasons. OK, now let's talk about the other extreme. Does anyone think we all really need separate houses?"

Again there was a chorus of noes, with just a few people who stayed silent. One of them, Nora MacGregor, put up her hand.

"I guess we really don't need separate houses, however small," said Nora, "Maybe just little apartments—I do value my privacy. Especially in the washroom. At the moment, upstairs in this house, six bedroom are sharing one bath. Takes a lot of co-ordination, and some of us older folks can't stand around waiting for long when we need to..."

"To go?" said Angie.

Nora nodded.

Erica, who was still standing at the front next to Angie, cleared her throat and spoke up, "Nora, I may have a solution for you. It's actually part of what I was going to present tonight anyway. I think we should switch over to composting toilets. The septic system here just won't cope with this many people for much longer, and we urgently need to recycle the nutrients in our waste back into the soil.

"I don't know if any of you are familiar with the sawdust toilet, often called a 'Jenkins toilet' after the guy that came up with the idea and tried to popularize it. It's just a wooden box with a bucket inside, a toilet seat on top and a container of sawdust or similar organic material nearby. You deposit your waste and then cover it with sawdust. When the bucket is full, it gets dumped on a compost pile. A year later it has composted down to nice rich black earth ready to be used on our gardens. And any disease organisms have had lots of time to die off.

"Subject to everyone's approval, of course, I think we need to pull out all our existing flush toilets and replace them with Jenkins toilets. And anyone who needs quick access can have a toilet in their bedroom. The smell is minimum, but ventilation can be arranged if it turns out to be a problem."

"Well, that's quite a heap of shit you've dumped in the middle of things here, Erica" said Wilf Janes with a chuckle. "But seriously, there's no doubt in my mind that we do need to do this, and it certainly answers some of Nora's concerns. I'm guessing we could even put a little cubicle in the corner of any bedroom that needs one of these."

"I don't know," said Nora. "It's really kind of a shocking idea."

"I've got a copy of Jenkin's book and a couple of others on the subject in our room upstairs if you want to read up," offered Erica. "And there are some websites you could look at too. Just Google 'humanure'."

Allan's own thoughts on the composting toilet issue were mixed. Like many people in modern western society, "feces" were something he felt should be flushed away behind one and never seen again. Not talked about, and certainly not handled. On the other hand, he'd seen the books Erika was talking about and understood the point about replenishing the soil—turning human waste into a valuable resource rather than something inconvenient to be gotten rid of. He had a hunch that, given a chance, Erika might be able to talk him around.

"I think we need to mull this over for a few days," said Angie. "Andrea, make a note that it should be on the agenda of next Tuesday's meeting. Those with serious doubts should approach Erika and get more information. For now, let's get back to the housing question. So, Erika, do you have a recommendation of where we should fall on the privacy spectrum?"

"Yes, actually," said Erica. "And it is kind of a default option, not much different from what we are doing now. We recommend that couples and single adults get private bedrooms with storage for their personal property. School age kids will share a pair of bunkrooms—4 bunks each, to start—one room for boys, one for girls. Currently, we've get 5 couples, 5 single adults, 2 school age boys and 3 school age girls. There are six bedrooms upstairs in this house and they are occupied by the couples and Jane's girls sharing one room. Some of you are sleeping on couches in the living room and here in the addition. It's a less than ideal situation."

"It is less than ideal," said Jane. "But I'm not sure your solution is an improvement, especially this bunkroom thing. You're talking about taking about taking our kids away from us at age four? What kind of a cult are we running here?"

"No kind at all," said Cindy. "I've got kids and I had as much input into this plan as Erika. The decision as to when to make the move would be up to the parents and the children. And 'away' isn't really the right word for it. The parents' rooms would be in the same building, on the same floor, as the bunkroom their kids would be in. Little different from the average family home."

"That sounds better," said Jane. "But I am guessing kids from different families will be sharing these bunkrooms?

"Initially, as it happens, no," said Cindy, "but eventually, yes."

"So, who's going to be in charge of the kids in the bunk rooms?" asked Jane.

"I don't think we've worked that out yet," said Cindy. "I'd like to say their parents. But I can see cases where disagreements between kids could lead to disagreements among parents. Hmmm... I think that leads to something we haven't addressed as yet, and we really should."

"What's that, Cindy?" asked Angie.

"Well, so far we've all been working really hard to get along," said Erika, "And with some success. But eventually we're going to end up with disagreements that people can't settle among themselves. I though Allan and Tom were pretty close to that yesterday. They sorted it out, but we need to have a mechanism for coping when we can't settle out our differences."

"I think you're talking about having some people trained as mediators," said Angie. "Enough so we can always find a reasonably neutral party to mediate a dispute. Yesterday we talked about facilitator training, which I must admit I haven't got around to arranging yet. But mediator training is similar and could probably be done by the same people. Andrea, make a note for me to get that set up ASAP."

Andrea did so and Angie went on, "Jane, you're OK with this?"

"Yeah," said Jane, "but I'll be keeping a close eye on how it works out."

"Good idea," said Angie. "Erika, where were you?"

"Just about to make a sketch of what we can do with this building," said Erika. "We need a few more bedrooms, the two bunkrooms and at least one more washroom. As we see it, we can have all that by putting in some partitions in the large rooms on the main floor of this house, " said Erika. She turned to the white board and made a quick sketch of the main floor of the house. "The living room could be divided into three rooms, the dining room into two, the kitchen into a bedroom and another bath and there is room in this addition for three bedrooms, two bunkrooms and a bath."

She added the partitions she had just suggested to the diagram. "This gives us 14 bedrooms, and we only need ten, so there is even room for the next few people who arrive. And the materials needed for this shouldn't be very expensive. For now we can still cook in the kitchen and since the weather is warming up, we can eat on the front and back porches."

"Maybe we could hold off on dividing up the dining room until we absolutely need to," said Jim. "That way we can eat inside and give the weather a chance to finish warming up. "

"I think you'll find we want a window in each of those bedrooms," said Don. "So that means we can only get one bedroom out of the living room, at the north end. What's left of the living room would do for a dining room in the short run, especially if we knock out the walls separating it from the hall and entrance way. So partition the dining room and addition first, then the living room and finally the kitchen, once we've got another kitchen set up."

"Actually, Don, that's a pretty good idea," said Erika, and adjusted her sketch to reflect Don's suggestion.

"I think there are a few more things we need to discuss," said Angie, "but first, how does everybody feel about just having rooms instead of houses or apartments?"

Allan was cool with it, but he expected to hear some push back. Surprisingly, everyone agreed with the idea.

"OK. So, at this point, the loose ends are replacing the kitchen, dining and meeting areas" said Angie. "Any ideas, Erika?"

"Yes indeed," said Erika. "Let me just add another sketch and then I'll explain what we are thinking about."

She took a moment to roughly outline the two pole barns, and then went on. "The kitchen here is really too small for this group, much less a significantly larger one. We'd recommend cleaning up both pole barns. Put the kitchen at the north end of the nearest barn, with processing and storage areas for the food we'll be producing, and a buffet counter to divide the kitchen from the dining area. Set up tables next to the kitchen for people to eat at. Maybe a stage for entertainment at the other end of the building, with chairs in front of it for the audience. That would work for these meetings, as well. In the other pole barn we can add more bedrooms as more people arrive, plus bathrooms, and also a 'maker space' with the tools and equipment we'll need to build all those things we aren't going to buy."

"That would seem to just about wrap it up," said Angie. "What do we think people?"

"Just a couple of things I'd like to add," said Karen. "First, if we set up a big kitchen in the pole barn and feed everyone from there, am I still going to get stuck doing all the cooking? I pretty much have so far. I mean, I don't mind cooking, and thanks to those who have helped, but as we get more people it's going to become a big deal. More than I can handle.

"Maybe we could take Tom's 'crew' idea and have several 'cooking crews' rotating through the kitchen or sharing the work some other way. Spread the work around and have more of a variety of food than I can provide. And maybe we can try to scare up some actual professional cooks when we are hunting for new people."

"Sounds good to me, Karen," said Angie. "People?"

This time there was unanimous agreement.

"You had a second point, Karen?" asked Angie.

"I do," answered Karen. "I know that some folks, like my husband Tom here, will want access to the kitchen for a snack now and then. Maybe not the whole kitchen, but at least a small area of it, set up with just enough supplies and equipment for those who feel the need to nosh. Or for people who have missed a meal."

A few chuckled at this but no one disagreed. Allan noticed his parents lean together and have a quick whispered discussion.

"When we first moved in here back in February, I claimed the master bedroom upstairs," said Karen. But we've been feeling more and more guilty about hogging the biggest room. If we get a family with a baby or children too small for the bunkrooms, that would be, of all the rooms we currently have, the best place for them. We think that's likely to happen soon, so we are offering to move to one of the new rooms, so the master bedroom can be readied for that use."

"The other thing is storage for personal property. So far, Tom's had us dump everything in heaps in the pole barns, but it's going to have to come out of there if we follow the current plan. The existing bedrooms have closets, and room for a chest of drawers or two. I'd suggest we add closets when we put those partitions in. There's room in the basement here to put in lockers for what won't fit in the bedrooms. When we start building more rooms out in the pole barn they should be big enough to include storage as well as sleeping space. And talking about storage space for personal property gives me the idea that we should really keep that property to a minimum. Something to be decided when we are actually doing the sorting, I guess."

"Well, what do we think of that, folks?" asked Angie."Speak up if you disagree with any of these ideas."

There seemed to be general agreement. "OK," said Angie. "You got that all down, Andrea?"

Andrea, who'd been writing furiously, stopped. "I think so."

"OK. Now Tom, let's get back to your original objections," said Angie. "Would you be satisfied if we agreed to put together a 'Finance Crew' to take a closer at what we can afford?

"I think we should do that in any case," said Tom. "And as long as I get a spot on that crew, I'll be happy. Perhaps we also need to morph today's Housing Crew into a 'Building Crew' to firm up their plans and cost them out. I still think we may have a bunch of new people show up with little warning— after all we are a 'refuge co-operative'—and we might have to do something like that minimum privacy option on a temporary basis. We should be sure to make whatever preparations are necessary to do that. Mattresses and bedding set aside, privacy screens built and so forth."

"Yeah, I think we can take that on," said Erika.

"Andrea, did you get Tom's suggestions down with all the others?" asked Angie.

"Sure did," said Andrea. "Just remember that Terry and I are still working on the new sign tomorrow and Jack has agreed to help us with getting a couple of big cedar posts out of the bush."

"OK, I think that just means you won't initially be on either the finance or building crew," said Angie. "We still have a couple of crew reports to hear, does anyone besides me think it might be time for a 15 minute break?"


Coming soon, Part 10 of the Porcupine Saga.



Links to the rest of this series of posts:
The Porcupine Saga

Maintaining the lists of links that I've been putting at the end of these posts in getting cumbersome, so I have decided to just include a link to the Porcupine section of the Site Map, which features links to all the episodes I've published thus far.