Gardeners' Holidays 2021: Late Harvest

Usually, the last Gardeners' Holiday of the fall is all about getting in what's left of the produce in our garden before the first frost. But this year, as October winds into November, there's still no sign of frost on the horizon. It's supposed to get down into the upper 30s on Tuesday night, but that's the coldest it's going to be all week. 

So, for the time being, we're continuing to pick tomatoes and peppers, though at a slower rate than we did last month. The one crop we decided to go out and harvest in its entirety was the butternut squash. True, they weren't likely to come to any harm sitting out on the vines, even if there was a frost. But they also weren't getting any bigger, as the vines themselves had mostly died back at this point, so there was no reason not to bring them in.

The total harvest for the year was a slightly disappointing eight squash. That's about on par with what we used to get with our old Waltham and Ponca Baby plants, but less than half of the 21 squash we got last year planting only Little Dippers. Perhaps last year was an outlier and we shouldn't expect results like that on a consistent basis. But on the plus side, these Little Dipper squash aren't all so little. Even the smallest of the lot is about a pound, and the largest weighs in at over three pounds. All told, we've got over 16 pounds of squash here.

But before we can start in on eating them, we need to finish up the last of that super harvest from last year. We generally eat these gradually throughout the year so they'll last us through to next year's harvest, and apparently we didn't step up the pace enough this year to use them up. So there's still a little bit of the final squash of 2020 left to use up before we can start on the squash of 2021.

We had part of this ultimate squash in a quinoa bowl earlier in the week, followed by some last night in a roasted root vegetable medley that's loosely based on this roasted sprouts and potatoes recipe. (I'll share the recipe for it some time, but it's basically potatoes, onions, Brussels sprouts, and squash roasted in the oven with a drizzle of homemade pancake syrup and a touch of smoke flavoring to take the place of the bacon.) That leaves just one little end that we can slice up to top Brian's butternut squash pizza with sage.

As for the upcoming year, these eight squash may not see us all the way through to next fall like this year's harvest did, but they should get us comfortably through the winter, at least. And between these squash, all the plum preserves we've socked away, the warm comforter we just put back on the bed, and our recent COVID booster shots, I think we're just about set to get snuggled in for the cold season.

Money Crashers: Hyperinflation

Money Crashers recently recruited me to write an article they wanted turned around in a big hurry. Earlier this week, Jack Dorsey — chief Twit at Twitter and occupant of the corner office at Square — tweeted that the hyperinflation was coming "soon" to the U.S. and would “change everything.” This, apparently, caused a big enough stir that the editors thought we'd better cash in on it quickly with an article about hyperinflation.

In my piece, I cover how economists define hyperinflation, some notable examples from world history, what causes it, and what it can do to the economy. I use a hypothetical example to illustrate how out-of-control price growth in the U.S., could affect spending and saving, debt, businesses, investments, and government spending. (Short version: it's very, very bad.)

So does that mean it's time to panic and put everything into Bitcoin, as Jack suggests? Absolutely not. The modest inflation we're seeing at the moment — about 5% over the past year — is certainly higher than it's been in the past couple of decades, but it's far from the highest it's been in my lifetime, and it's not even remotely like the nightmare scenario of hyperinflation. And there's been essentially nothing to indicate that's about to change.

Yes, inflation is rising, and yes, there are things you can do to protect yourself from it. (I've already covered some of them in previous articles.) But hyperinflation is not, repeat not, happening now, and is not remotely likely to happen in the near future. Get a grip, Jack.

Hyperinflation - Definition, Cause, What Happens to Investments and Debt

Seeking a cleaner, greener shave

For quite a few years now, I've had trouble finding a razor I was entirely satisfied with. I've tried cartridge razors from all kinds of brands, including Gillette, Schick, Harry's, the Dollar Shave Club, and the store brands at the drugstore, some designed for men and some for women. And every single one of them had at least one, and usually several, of the following problems:

1. They didn't give me as close and long-lasting a shave as I wanted. With most of them, I could get my legs tolerably smooth with a little work, but the roots were still visible, and the smoothness never lasted. By the end of the day, they'd feel like 60-grit sandpaper.
2. The cartridges were expensive. Even the so-called Dollar Shave Club actually charges $8 for a 4-pack (so $2 each) of its 4-blade refill heads, the cheapest type it still offers. And you can't comparison shop for refill blade cartridges the way you can for other products, stocking up whenever you find a good deal, because cartridges for different razor brands — and in most cases, even different models from the same brand — aren't interchangeable. You have to buy the specific cartridges that go with whatever razor you have, and pay whatever the store is asking for them.
3. They were wasteful. Not as much as disposable razors, of course, but the cartridges still ended up in the trash because there was no way to recycle them. To reduce this problem, I got pretty good over the years at making the cartridges last a long time. By drying them off between shaves, lubricating them, even stropping them occasionally, I could go for weeks or even months on a single cartridge. But that didn't help me that much in the long run, because...
4. They broke. Occasionally, the razor would get dropped in the shower — sometimes during use, sometimes while I was cleaning or whatever. And while most razor handles would survive this once or twice, sooner or later they would break, rendering both the razor itself and all the remaining cartridges for it unusable. (The much-lauded Harry's razor actually broke this way after only its second use. The company offered me a free replacement, but I was so unimpressed with the quality — as well as the shave I got from it — that I didn't consider it worth the effort.)

Over the years, I've toyed with the idea of going back to an old-fashioned safety razor, the kind I first learned to shave with. I always used to get a pretty good shave from one, at least as close as anything I've ever achieved with two, three, four, or five blades. The individual blades are both smaller and cheaper than a multi-blade cartridge, and they don't produce any plastic waste. And, better still, they're all the same: any blade you buy will fit any safety razor, regardless of brand. And best of all, the handle itself is made of nearly indestructible metal, so dropping it won't damage it significantly (though it could damage you if the exposed blade lands on your toe).

Safety razors aren't perfect, of course. They pose a bigger risk of nicks and cuts (the main reason I stopped using one in the first place). Also, they're much harder to find in stores, where cartridge razors have pretty much taken over. Because of these problems, I always ended up replacing a broken cartridge razor with a new cartridge razor that looked like the best available value, hoping that it would be the one that finally lived up to my expectations.

The last one I bought this way was a no-name brand from Costco that came with a dozen refills. I made it through eleven of them before the handle broke, and I decided that was it — I was going to take the plunge on a safety razor. The local drugstore didn't have any (I know it used to, but when I went back this week they had all disappeared), but I was able to pick up one up for $17.50 at Target — a Van der Hagen complete with five blades and a limited lifetime warranty. That looked like a pretty clear solution to problem #4 on my list, and I hoped it would solve problems #1 through #3 as well.

That hasn't quite proved to be the case — at least, not yet. I shaved with it for the first time this morning, and not only did it not leave my skin silky smooth, it didn't even provide as close a shave as I used to get with my crappy Costco cartridge razor. Still, I knew it's possible to achieve this kind of smoothness with a single blade, because I've done it in the past. So I figure perhaps I simply need to make some changes to my shaving technique.

I consulted a couple of guides online to find out how to shave legs with a safety razor, and they seemed to agree on a few points. First, wet the skin and lather it well (something I always do anyway). Second, hold the blade at an angle, which various sources put at anywhere from 30 to 45 degrees. And third, use short, light strokes with very little pressure. I'm hoping that once I get the hang of this, I'll be able to get a shave from my single blade that's at least equal, if not superior, to what I got from the cartridge.

The fourth tip most sources give is to change the blade frequently, saying it's only good for three to six shaves, seven at most. But I'm hoping to stretch that out a bit longer, since a 50-cent blade that lasts only a week is more costly and wasteful than a $2 cartridge that lasts a couple of months. The tricks for making safety razor blades last longer seem to be pretty much the same as for cartridge razors: Clean and dry after each use, keep it oiled, and strop it as needed to restore the edge. (You can use an old pair of jeans for this purpose rather than a specially designed strop.) Many sources also recommend against keeping the razor in the bathroom, since the moist air can cause rust, but that's a problem for me since I like to have it ready to hand when I step into the shower. So I'm thinking I might eventually try storing it in a small jar of oil, which I could keep upright in the shower caddy. That would also eliminate the need for oiling as a separate step.

And when those blades finally do wear out, I'm looking to recycle them rather than simply toss them in sharps disposal. There are apparently a few ways to do this now. Gillette and Terracycle have joined forces on a razor recycling program that accepts both razors and blades of all types and brands; you can either mail the blades in at your own cost or drop them off at a designated collection site. A company called Albatross also accepts blades by mail. Leaf Shave sells a metal blade collection tin for four bucks that you can mail back to them (again, at your own cost) or drop off at local recycling center; I've found one in Edison, only a few miles away, that shouldn't be too inconvenient to visit once or twice a year.

Cheaper still, you can make your own razor blade bank from a steel container that the recyclers can take blades and all. And I just happen to have a whole bunch of tins from Newman's Own ginger mints (which I'm hooked on) that I held onto because they were so cool-looking I hated to throw them out. So those should work nicely for the purpose.

I'm hoping that my new safety razor and accessories — blades, oil, denim "strop," and blade bank — will finally be the ecofrugal shaving solution I've been hoping for. But if I just can't figure out how to get a decent shave from this razor, I'm not giving up hope. There are now razors such as the Leaf that combine the multiple blades and pivoting head of a cartridge razor with standard single-edge razor blades, so I might be able to have my close shave and less waste too. They're rather pricey, but what the heck, I'd only have to buy it once.

Money Crashers: Short-Term Health Insurance Plans

Just a quick post to let you know about my latest Money Crashers post on the pros and cons of short-term health insurance plans. Spoiler alert: it's mostly cons.

Pros and Cons of Short-Term Health Insurance Plans – Is It Right for You?

 

Local deforestation

This was a sad week for the environment in our neighborhood. We just lost two big, beautiful, healthy trees — and as far as I can tell, for no good reason.

Some background: on the opposite side of our street, there used to be a small ranch house. It wasn't in great condition and couldn't find a buyer for a long time. But when the real estate market went nuts during the pandemic, a developer bought it up and started trying to sell, not the house itself, but two new houses that they planned to build on the property. Both of which were quite a big bigger than the original house, and presumably quite a bit more expensive. 

Now, the catch was, the developer apparently couldn't get approval to begin construction on the new houses until they had buyers lined up for both of them. And a house that big on our street, which is kind of out on the edge of town, is a tough sell. But eventually they must have found a couple of buyers desperate enough to pay what they were charging, because over the last few weeks, they got to work demolishing the existing house.

To me, of course, knocking down a perfectly good house in order to build two new ones seemed like an unfortunate waste. But at least there was one encouraging thing about the process: the demolition crew carefully worked around the two mature oak trees in the front yard instead of knocking them down. We assumed this meant that the developer was planning to keep the trees on the new property, since we couldn't see why they'd go to such trouble otherwise. And it made sense, since a big healthy tree like that would surely be a nice selling point for the house.

But apparently, in this market, the developer didn't need actually a feature like that to sell an as-yet-unbuilt house on an out-of-the-way street. Because when we got up on Tuesday morning, we saw that there was a crew of workers across the street preparing to take the trees down.

This was not just depressing to me but also puzzling, since Highland Park has an ordinance dictating that you can't remove any tree above a certain size (which these two definitely were) without a permit. And I couldn't figure out why the borough would grant one for two beautiful, healthy trees like this, especially when it was clearly possible for the construction to proceed without them.

I tried calling up the borough's code enforcement officer to find out if these folks actually had a permit, but I couldn't reach anyone. Then I went out and asked one of the workers, and he assured me they did. The owner, who was there to supervise, even came over to show it to me when he saw me out there with my camera taking this picture. He showed me the plan of the property and explained that the two trees "had to" come down because they were planning to install two gas lamps in the exact spots where they stood. But he assured me that there would be new trees planted in the rear of the property to make up for it. (Of course, these new trees will be little dinky ones, rather than hundred-year-old oaks, and won't be visible from the street anyhow. But the ordinance says as long as you plant one new tree at least 2 inches in diameter for each one you cut down, no matter how large, that's good enough.)

So I'm forced to admit that the developer did indeed have permission from the borough to take down these trees. What I can't figure out is why. Why, why, WHY would the borough give this guy permission to remove two irreplaceable trees in order to install two gas lamps — a feature that clearly isn't necessary, isn't anywhere near as desirable as an old-growth tree, and oh yeah, burns fossil fuel and produces carbon emissions rather than removing them? Does the local government consider gas lamps more important than trees? Or does it care more about the needs of developers than those of local homeowners? Is it just so desperate for more property owners to pay taxes that it's willing to grant any concession at all to get more homes built?

To make matters worse, our next-door neighbor also just decided this week to cut down all the bushes in his front yard. So on both sides of the street, the area to the south of our house is now a bleak, bare, clear-cut expanse. And the absence of the shrubbery merely draws attention to the half-rotted fence between our yard and his.

But this, at least, is a problem we can potentially do something about. Brian already has plans to ask him if we can replace the fence (which we think is technically on his property) with some trellises. If he says yes, he plans to break up those crumbling concrete bars currently lining our driveway and replace them with some trellised planter boxes (sort of like these), in which we can plant some sort of climbing vines to grow up the trellis. He also has a notion to add another trellis to the end of the planter nearest the house, so it can partially conceal our trash cans from view. If this works, it will add a little shade and greenery back to our landscape and help block out that desolate view to the south. 

We can even use the concrete chunks from the broken-up bars to provide drainage on the bottom of the boxes, so nothing will go to waste. Because unlike some people, we don't believe in wasting perfectly good resources.

Recipe of the Month: Roasted Eggplant and Pepper Sandwich

October's Recipe of the Month came about more or less by accident. Brian had made Pasta Romesco for dinner the week before, but the roasted red peppers he used in the dish had come from Ocean State Job Lot, which sells them in a larger jar than Trader Joe's. Consequently, he had about a third of the jar left over and was wondering how to use it up. So I started searching through our cookbook collection for recipes that use roasted red peppers as an ingredient, and I came across one in a tiny booklet from Better Homes and Gardens called Easy Vegetarian Dinners. 

The dish was called "Grilled Eggplant & Sweet Pepper Sandwiches," and that was almost a complete description in itself. Basically, all it involved was grilling slices of eggplant and quartered bell peppers, then serving them on thick slices of French bread spread with soft goat cheese and Dijon mustard. We didn't have any goat cheese and didn't feel inclined to buy any, since neither of us cares for it much, but the recipe sounded like it would work just fine without it, so we decided to give it a go. 

We already had an eggplant, and Brian made a loaf of no-knead bread to use in lieu of the French bread. He usually bakes it in our big Dutch oven, which produces a rather flat loaf that makes short, wide slices that he thought wouldn't be ideal for this recipe. So instead, he baked it in our smaller cast-iron pot, creating a boule that was more ball-shaped and made nice wide slices. 

Then, since the peppers were already roasted, all he had to do was grill the eggplant. He cut it into slices between a quarter-inch and a half-inch thick, brushed them with olive oil, and grilled them on our outdoor charcoal grill for about 15 minutes, until they were tender and looked well browned. Since the peppers hadn't been grilled along with the eggplant, I put them on a plate and warmed them up for about 20 seconds in the microwave so everything would be warm when it went onto the bread.

As I expected, this combo was very tasty. The smoky flavor of the grilled vegetables went well with the vinegary Dijon mustard, and the tender veggies balanced well against the chewiness of the bread. But I did find, as I chewed, that the sandwich seemed like it could use a bit more body, a bit more substance. I had to admit that some cheese would probably have improved both the texture and the flavor, as well as giving it a bit of much-needed protein. 

However, I didn't think the goat cheese we'd omitted from the recipe was really what it was crying out for. To my taste buds, a smoked mozzarella with a firmer texture would really have been the ideal thing to complement the veggies, bread, and mustard. And it was really the smokiness, not the cheesiness, that I thought would contribute most to the dish. In my judgment, thin slices of smoked tofu would probably serve just as well to round out the dish in terms of both flavor and texture.

Not having any of that on hand, I must confess that I opened up a tin of smoked herring out of the pantry and added a bit to my sandwich, thereby de-veganizing it, just as a proof of concept. And sure enough, the smoky fish went very nicely with the veggies and gave the sandwich the extra substance it was lacking.

We've checked the tofu aisle at our local H-Mart and determined that it does carry smoked tofu, but it ain't cheap. I think it was something like five bucks for a half-pound package, or ten bucks a pound. Adding that to this dish would make it a lot more expensive, but it would also make it a much heartier and more satisfying dish while still keeping it vegan. 

Alternatively, we could just go ahead and include the smoked herring in the sandwich along with the veggies. It's still a bit expensive (about two bucks for 4.4 ounces, which works out to $7.27 per pound), but it's something we keep on hand all the time, which means we could make this sandwich pretty much any time in the summer without having to make a special trip to H-Mart. And if it's no longer vegan, well, we're not trying to be 100 percent vegan anyway. As long as it's low-carbon and doesn't come from an inhumane factory farm, that's good enough for us.

Yard-sale haul 2021

After being called off in 2020 on account of the pandemic, the annual Highland Park town-wide yard sale returned this year in all its glory. The planners even added a new twist: this year, people who for some reason couldn't host sales on their own property had the option of booking a space in the big downtown parking lot where our Friday farmers' market takes place in the summer. So Brian and I knew as we planned our weekend excursions that we could count on finding a good cluster of sales in one spot there.

Although we weren't hunting for any large items at this year's sales, there were a few smaller items I was on the lookout for. One was shoes of all kinds, since I currently have multiple pairs in my closet that are either due or seriously overdue for replacement (and as regular readers will know, finding shoes is always a struggle for me). And although I knew it was a long shot, I hoped I might chance on a copy of The Weekend Garden Guide for a friend who has recently acquired his first house and is planning to plant his first garden. Other than that, we were just keeping our eyes peeled for anything that looked like a good bargain, either for ourselves or as a holiday gift for anyone on our list.

And on this score, I'd say we did pretty well. On Saturday, we started out on the north side, working our way up one avenue and down another before crossing town to visit the market area and the cluster of sales that show up every year along Felton Avenue. We were out for about three hours all told and came home with the haul you see here:

• Two shirts for me. One is a practical plaid that can be worn as a layering piece; the other is a more fanciful lacy blouse that can be incorporated into period costumes.
• 
  One pair of hiking boots in a boys' size 5 1/2. That's actually a little big for me, but they're wearable and intact, and that's more than I can say for any of the three other pairs of winter boots I currently have at home. These can definitely take the place of my old Timberland hiking boots, which I was keeping around at this point solely for grubby outdoor jobs. And if I can't find a more appropriate pair of winter boots by December, they may end up becoming my everyday shoes this winter.
• Four books. One of them, a Ngaio Marsh mystery, is for our own enjoyment. The other three are fantasy novels we have already read and plan to present to one or more of our niblings.
• Two board games. Some of the sellers in the market area turned out to be not homeowners getting rid of stuff, but vendors who are normally there on Fridays. One of these stalls belonged to The Moonladies, two sisters who used to run a local gift and toy store. After losing their premises last year, they've been making do with a booth in the market, and they had taken advantage of yard-sale weekend to unload some clearance merchandise. The prices were much higher than you'd normally expect to pay at a yard sale, but still well below retail. Brian picked up one board game there, which we won't name since it's likely to be a gift for someone who reads this blog. We also found another small game — suitable for a stocking stuffer, perhaps — on a table full of items marked "free."
• Two bottles of masala sauce from the Moonladies booth. We usually make sauces from scratch, but Brian calculated that the marked-down price was approximately what we'd pay for the ingredients for a similar sauce. And anyway, it was a way to support a local business.
• A fold-up camping chair (the big blue thing in the background). We already had one of these that had come in handy at various outdoor events, and picking up this one gives us a matched pair.
  
• A bracelet (not visible in photo) that will make a nice gift for a niece.
• An alarm clock. This was another freebie. Brian grabbed it even though it was held together with a rubber band because he already had an identical clock that was broken, and he thought he might be able to scavenge the parts from it to repair the old one.
• A replacement seat for Brian's bike. He nearly didn't buy this, arguing that he didn't really need it because the one he has now isn't falling apart that fast. But eventually he saw the logic of securing a replacement now for $3, rather than having to buy a brand-new one when this one finally gives up the ghost.
  

By the time we'd collected all this, we were feeling pretty footsore, so we decided not to go out again after lunch. Instead we spent the afternoon running errands at actual stores, picking up food for ourselves and the kitties.

Sunday morning we ventured out again, heading up to the far north edge of the town to take in a different set of sales. As usual, the sales weren't nearly as thick on the ground on Sunday as they had been on Saturday. Some sellers who had signed up for both days had packed it in after Saturday, and even some who had signed up for Sunday only apparently decided not to bother setting up shop at all. So after about two and a half hours, we came home with only three items:

• A bag full of apples. We didn't buy these, but scavenged them near the home of a neighbor with several large apple trees. The trees had been picked clean to about the height that could be reached with a standard ladder, but a lot of the fruit on the higher branches had fallen off onto the ground and had been left to rot. Most of the apples were too damaged to eat, but we gleaned enough intact ones to fill up one of our reusable produce bags. And, as we discovered later when we cut one up to eat with our lunch, they're very good apples. (Maybe next year we can work out a deal with this neighbor to swap some of them for some of our plums.)
  
  
• A board game called "Fog of Love," which looked amusing enough to risk a dollar on.
• A book called Debt: The First 5,000 Years, by David Graeber. Books about money are an interest of mine, and I read enough of this one to confirm that it looked both interesting and intelligible to an ordinary reader.
  
• Yet another alarm clock identical to the one we got on Saturday, except that this one was clearly in working condition. Brian felt a bit silly picking up the same clock again, but it was exactly what he wanted and it was only a dollar, so he decided it would be even more silly to pass it over.
  

The total amount we spent across both days of sales was $53.87, with most of that going to the Moonladies. It's more than we usually spend at these sales, but it enabled us to check at least three people off our holiday gift list, as well as providing several handy and/or amusing items for our own use. And since at least one of those items (the boots) was something that I absolutely needed, and that probably would have cost at least $53.87 to buy new, I consider everything else we bagged over the course of the weekend to be pure gravy.