HOW do you turn on the lights?

We were starved and exhausted. We'd been moving into our bohemian mountain cabin all day, with the generous help of friends, who had just left. It was a warm November evening, and the twilight was fading fast.

I put some left-overs in the microwave that the last owner had left, and turned it on. The microwave hummed, and then....silence. The lights went out. We were sitting in total darkness, surrounded by piles of boxes.

This was our introduction to our solar power system.

Oh, for a flashlight! Which box were they in? And...had we damaged anything?

It turns out, we hadn't done any damage- solar systems just don't do well with microwaves- at least ours doesn't. (This works for me, because I don't use microwaves any how) They draw a lot of power- more than the system can handle, unless it's fully charged.

So, here's our set-up:
These are the panels. They commune with the sun and, sort of like a plant, make energy!

(I hope you're OK with a LOW tech explanation...)

The energy gets sent to the batteries, where it's stored.

Then, when we turn on lights, or use any power, the inverter converts the DC power from the batteries to AC power that can run our lights and appliances.

There's a charge controller in there, too. Anybody want to guess what important function it serves?

How much, how fast, and how well all depends on how big your system is. There are a gazillion ways to configure the system, and we found it well worth the expense to pay an expert to help- they have all the tinker toys to be able to make sure the system is streamlined and as efficient as possible.


In the end, we made peanut butter sandwiches and went to bed early, since we were so tired and didn't know how to bring the lights back on anyway. Tomorrow would be solar 101 lesson day.

Bear-y-go-round

I was running one summer day not far from my house, when my 90 pound german shepherd-mix, Kota, excitedly bounded past me. His buoyant enthusiasm warned me something was up, so I watched. As I came up a rise, near a large pond, I saw an adorable baby bear scurry up a tree - followed closely by Kota.

Kota stopped to look up at the little bear, disappointed that he didn't want to play.

Then mama bear showed up. Clearly she DID want to play. Round and round the pond they went, Kota's tail ringing around in glee.

Meanwhile, I stood above the pond, yelling at the top of my lungs at dog ears that could not hear. Until they did hear. After five or so revolutions around the pond, Kota began to run directly to me. I knew immediately- I was now "home base," safety zone. I bent down in my scanty summer running togs, picked up a rock in each hand, and yelled something I won't type here. I think that was the first time the bear noticed me ... and, you know, she stopped. Then looked at Kota like he was the stupidest coyote she'd ever come across, turned and disappeared.

Now, we still had to get home, and baby bear was in a tree near the road. I didn't fancy another encounter with mama bear, so we took the high road, up and over and around to get home.

Kota was so pleased with himself.

Klepto-puppy

I often can't find my jeans in the morning. Klepto-pup has commandeered them. She doesn't take my nice clothes. Only work clothes that smell like dirt, plants, firewood...which all lead to her to sweet dreams of going for a walk! (I have to whisper those words...)

She looks just a little guilty, doesn't she....

Lions on my Door Step

Living with mountain lions is a part of rural life- and I hope it always will be. I consider it a privilege and an honor to see them and do my best to respect their presence by not letting my dogs run wild and not throwing out scraps that might attract them. Nevertheless, in sharing the same habitat, we inevitably meet.

It was the dogs that first drew my attention to the lump of pine needles. They were TOO excited by it.

It was a lovely winter day. We'd been out for a walk and were nearly home when we stumbled on it. All I could see was a large mound of pine needles and dirt. Maybe 6 feet across. As I approached the mound, my curiosity piqued, I was taken aback to realize it was a deer...that had been partially BURIED. It had several large bites taken out of it's gut.

What had buried it...and where was the hunter now...?

I slowly backed away, simultaneously scanning the nearby trees. I knew instantly that I was being watched. No doubt. He was there, watching all of us. Soundlessly. The hair  on the back of my neck stood up. I couldn't see the lion in any trees near me, but I knew he was close. A lion never abandons a kill. And this one was fresh.

I walked down the hill backwards, calling the buoyant dogs after me. Home was only a hundred paces away, but it felt a mile.

Of course, I couldn't keep the dogs from investigating the lions progress with the carcass. I tried, but within a few days, I well cleaned skeleton was dragged into my front "yard," where the dogs proceeded to eat the entire thing. Oh, happy dogs.