Michael Green

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Baking with Les

In Blog on October 3, 2010

I STAYED a while at Crystal Waters, an ecovillage about half an hour from Maleny, on the Sunshine Coast hinterland. Over 200 people live on 85 one-acre lots, spread among bushland and fields. No cats or dogs are allowed, but kangaroos and wallabies abound.

On my first night I woke after only a few hours. I was the only guest in the bunkhouse. The room seemed particularly familiar. As I lay thinking, I realised the room was set out exactly same way as the bedroom of my childhood. The bunk bed, the door and the window: they all fitted precisely. I looked up at the slats above me, at one moment utterly disoriented, and the next, so vividly a child again. The timing was slightly unsettling – I turned 30 this week.

When eventually I slept again, I woke to a sunny, steamy morning. The evening before I’d met Les Bartlett, who bakes sourdough loaves twice a week in his small bakery on Crystal Waters, and sells only locally. Today was a baking day and he’d said I could pop in.

In the morning I watched Les and Penny mix their doughs: sourdough starter, organic stone-ground flour, water, salt. Penny is from Melbourne, but is staying here to learn the craft. I came back at lunchtime and watched them shape the loaves with Leslie (Les’s partner), then returned again in the evening to watch the baking in a wood-fired oven – each time staying an hour or two to talk (or eat pizza and sip beer).

When the baking was nearly done, two young children knocked on the door. The boy said his mum had sent him for a loaf. Penny put a still-hot Pain de Campagne in a paper bag, and told him to set it on a cooling rack when he got home.

As they left, Les said, “That’s something isn’t it? He’ll never forget it.”

It’ll be a fine memory one day: walking to the community baker with your kid sister, and returning for dinner with fresh hot bread from the wood-oven.

It was a day to remember for me too. A gleaming day, a day when people are so kind and welcoming that everything clicks, like a turn at Chinese checkers where you jump all the way home.

Half a dozen Japanese hippies had set up camp during the afternoon. Les gave me a fruit-and-nut loaf for them. It was warm from the oven. The Japanese didn’t speak much English, but some things I understood: the murmurs in appreciation of the smell, the extended silence as they chewed, and then the contented mooing – the sound of satisfaction from their bellies.

Finally, one guy, called Nobu, held the remainder of his portion aloft and said: “It’s like art.”

Les Breads

Left to right: Penny, Leslie and Les 

The nine-star house

In Greener Homes on October 2, 2010

Top line energy efficiency isn’t just possible; it’s affordable.

NEAR Lexton, in Western Victoria, a small white house looms large on the hill. While governments raise building efficiency standards ever so slowly, John Morgan’s home stands on a different plane.

Inspired by the need to respond rapidly to climate change, the retired schoolteacher and renewable energy installer has designed and built one of Australia’s first 9 Star homes. It needs next to no heating or cooling to stay comfortable.

“I wanted to demonstrate that you could build for a lot less than on the TV shows like World’s Greenest Homes,” Mr Morgan says. “You can get that level of comfort without any high-tech gizmos.”

The neat, two-bedroom house was completed in 2008 for Mr Morgan, his wife Belinda and their cat Millie. The dwelling is small and simple, at just over 100 square metres, including a sunroom and an office, which functions as an entry and air lock. But it doesn’t lack any of the usual conveniences: the washing machine, dishwasher and kitchen appliances, as well as Mr Morgan’s ham radio set up, all run on solar power.

Altogether, it cost about $160,000, including two 20,000-litre water tanks and a 2-kilowatt off-grid solar photovoltaic system.

“This home has no architectural merit,” Mr Morgan admits. “And it was deliberate. I wanted a house that was extremely comfortable and would cost nothing to run.

“I don’t get power or water bills and I don’t have water restrictions. I have a high-flow showerhead. When I have my morning shower the water goes absolutely everywhere and for most of the year it’s heated free of charge by the sun.”

He chose to use reverse brick veneer construction. “It’s a brick house with the bricks inside, not out,” he explains.

The exterior is clad with EcoPly (a non-toxic plywood made from plantation pine). Between the bricks and the cladding there is a 50 millimetre gap, and then reflective foil and batts – making a total insulation value of more than R2.

The ceiling and the slab floor are also highly insulated and the windows are double-glazed. This combination of insulation and thermal mass serves to keep the indoor temperature stable, trapping warmth during winter and protecting against the scorching summer sun.

“It means that in summer, the outside wall doesn’t heat up and stay hot all night,” he says.

The home is well oriented, shaded and draught-proofed, but there are no out-of-reach whiz-bang solutions. “All the books ever written about environmentally sensible design say these things. I’ve just put them all into practice. That’s where the nine stars came from,” he says. For more information about Mr Morgan’s home, there’s a detailed description in ReNew magazine (issue 112).

“My goal was to deal with climate change here to the extent that I can. This is, to all intents and purposes, a zero emissions house,” he says. He sometimes uses a small gas heater, but is planting and tending trees on his property that will more than offset his emissions.

“If anybody else wants to follow this lead they can. Lots of people do it,” he says.

His one indispensable tip is that would-be builders or renovators seek good passive solar design advice ahead of all else. “Talk to someone who knows their facts first. Do it before you write your first cheque.”

The outdoor shower

In Blog on September 30, 2010

AFTER a day’s dirty work in the garden, or painting ceiling boards, it’s always nice to have a shower to wash the humidity away. It is, however, especially enjoyable to shower at Mel and Ant’s place. They have an outdoor shower (see the photos below).

The water comes from a spring on their property, and Ant has rigged up a greywater system from the shower that feeds a banana circle.

The greywater runs down to a circular trench and mound (or swale), around which the bananas are planted. Bananas need lots of nutrients. In the middle of the circle you can put compost scraps and cut vegetation. Ant explained to me that to productively manage the circle, you should have banana plants in threes – a grandma, a ma and a baby. Only the grandma of produces bananas. Eventually she’ll be cut and composted in the circle and replaced by the ma, and so on: the circle of life (banana edition).

The shower looks like this:

The shower

The view from the shower looks like this (gosh):

The view from the shower

Recycled interiors

In Greener Homes on September 26, 2010

Pre-loved interiors change the story of stuff.

THE way you fit out and decorate your home is a matter of style, but also of substance – each purchase contributes to the size of your footprint.

October is the Salvos Stores’ Buy Nothing New Month. The campaign encourages people to buy only their necessities new, and for the rest, to scavenge, swap, or seek out second-hand goods.

Author Clive Hamilton says the campaign is about “spending our time and money more thoughtfully”.

Throughout the month, some Salvos Stores will be showing The Story of Stuff, a short animation on the life cycle impact of goods, from the extraction of raw materials to disposal.

“We usually think of our greenhouse gas emissions being associated with direct energy use, like heating our houses and driving our cars,” Mr Hamilton says. “But a lot of greenhouse gases are embodied in the goods we buy, because so much energy is used in making them.”

He says white goods and furnishings often have relatively high embodied energy. Overall, the indirect emissions of households (through the products and food we buy) are larger than the direct emissions (caused by our energy use).

We tend to spend what we earn, either now or later. “This is why high-income households always buy more stuff, generate more greenhouse gas emissions and produce more waste,” he says.

But that consumption is a matter of choice. “Changing what we consume can reduce our emissions in the same way as driving less or turning the thermostat down,” he says.

Artist and interior designer Christo Gillard argues that buying pre-loved not only reduces materials consumption and saves money, but also adds pizazz.

“Recycled things are fantastic because they hold a lot of character that other stuff doesn’t have. They’ve got instant personality,” he says. “As far as interiors and houses are concerned, recycling isn’t a new thing. Antique stores are emporiums of recycled products.”

There are many ways to avoid buying new. You can ‘up-cycle’: fix, re-furbish or re-upholster existing things to give them new life.

“Textiles generally don’t outlast the framework of furnishings,” Mr Gillard says. “You can re-glue and re-upholster an amazing, rickety old chair. Spend a day’s work and it’ll last another 50 years.” When re-upholstering, choose the fabrics for durability and enquire about eco-friendly adhesives and foams.

The same goes for lampshades, because there are few craftspeople making high-quality ones. “If you’re lucky enough to find one in an opshop and re-cover it, you’ll have something intensely unique.”

You can also seek out pre-used materials. Mr Gillard has drawn drapes from old cinemas and lit upon French louvers in council collection piles. He especially recommends reclaimed carpets, floorboards and tiles.

“Recycled tiles are marvellous. One time I found a load of tiles for $150 and gave them to a client. I saw someone else who found similar tiles new and paid $8000 for them,” he says.

You can save on everything, from taps and fittings to kitchenware, and even hifi equipment such as record players. “The internet is a bottomless place to find stuff,” Mr Gillard says.

“Visit places like Camberwell market, trash-and-treasure stores and opshops. Garage sales are the greatest things in the world. There’s so much available from houses, shops and buildings that are being demolished. It’s all about how you mix and match it.”

Looking up

In Blog on September 25, 2010

WHEN I wake in the morning I lift my head just a little and look out the huge window of the A-frame loft, and into the rainforest. I lie there a while before I get up.

I’m wwoofing again, this time in Upper Main Arm, near Mullumbimby in northern NSW. I’m staying with Mel and Ant, and their toddler Maddy. They have veggies and chickens and a hundred fruit trees – exotic trees to me, like mango, papaya, tamarillo, guava and white sapote.

These last two weeks, there’s been something going on with ceilings. Maybe it’s because I’m travelling north and I’ve always associated north with up.

At Homeland, near Bellingen, I helped a few members of the community as they installed a new ceiling in their common house. They use the house for events and activities. For a while they ran weekly open-mic nights, but the roof sprung a leak many months ago and the building has been out of commission ever since.

A few young families moved onto Homeland recently, bringing fresh energy to rejuvenate the property’s facilities, and the long-time members’ spirits. That’s why we were fixing the ceiling.

Members can own their houses, but no one can own the land. About 30 people live there now. They tread foot-tracks from their homes to the common laundry and shower block and clotheslines, and meet each other along the way. Kids explore – there’s no traffic to watch out for. A morning can vanish on Homeland, among all the conversations and cups of tea.

Here, a few hours further north at Upper Main Arm, it’s been raining a lot. And while the raindrops tap on the tin roof of the outdoor living area, we’ve been building a ceiling below, so Mel and Ant can install insulation.

Whenever it stops raining, I fight Morning Glory. It’s a weed vine with a pretty purple flower and a conquistadorial spirit. 

The land is fecund, damn fecund. Plants grow like nobody’s business – both the wanted and the unwanted. Periodically, Ant takes his machete and hacks a tract of jungle away from the fence line of their house zone.

The landscape is lush like a movie soundtrack. Mel and Ant’s outdoor chairs are stained with damp and the new shed already looks two generations old.

There is so much water in these parts, compared to dry Victoria (well, Victoria was dry before I left). I’ve got a thing for big rivers, so I’ve been happy here. When I visited the US a few years ago my main ambition was to sit by the Mississippi and read Huck Finn.

From Woolgoolga to Byron Bay I got a ride from a biological farmer called Ian. He’d lost a marriage and a farm, and until recently, he’d been living out of his car in Sydney. He still had rheumy eyes, but now he had big plans. He told them to me as we drove past Grafton and along the Clarence River. The river was astonishingly wide and full, and so close to the highway. We passed over the bridge where the water made for the coast, but soon we came alongside another, the Richmond River. Unless it’s flooding, you sure don’t see that kind of water down south.

Mel and Ant's house

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