Post G22-064: Judgement Day, the Seedy Edition.

 

Or Judgment, depending on which style guide you follow.

When I started trying new varieties of plants in my little backyard garden, I did not quite grasp one obvious consequence:  At some point, you have to thin down your seed collection. 

Left to its own devices, my shoebox of seed packets exhibits reverse Darwinism: Survival of the un-fittest.  It’s not merely that I end up with far too many packets of seeds.  It’s that the long-term survivors are the duds — the ones I didn’t want to plant again.  By contrast, plants with desirable traits are removed from my shoebox gene pool, because I planted the seeds and grew them.

It’s a nice metaphor for much of the junk in my life.  The shirts I wear every day eventually wear out.  The ill-fitting and the ugly remain until I haul them off to the thrift shop.  The low-fat, low-salt cottage cheese slowly expires at the back of the fridge.  But somehow my pantry has never held a bag of potato chips beyond its expiration date.


Why is this seed pack a loser?  Let me count the ways.

Above: The starting point.  It’s not quite as chaotic as it looks, because I have them sorted into categories.

1)  I just ain’t gonna grow that vegetable any more.

Here, the varieties themselves are blameless.  It’s mostly that nobody wanted to eat them, even if I grew them well.  Or, in a few cases, that, plus they seemed to be more trouble than they were worth.

Maybe I’ll try to give these away.  There’s nothing wrong with the seeds.

  • Radishes
  • Turnips
  • Kale
  • Swiss Chard
  • Ground cherry

2) I ain’t gonna grow that variety any more.

Some of these just didn’t grow well.  Some didn’t taste like much.  And, to be clear, I’m tossing some not because they are intrinsically bad but because I could use the same space for better varieties.

2.1) Tomatoes

 

These all grew, but were disappointing for some reason.  Some, I couldn’t tell when they were ripe.  Others lacked taste.  Some had poor yields, possibly due to operator error.  But mostly, they aren’t themselves bad, it’s just that there were better varieties for my garden conditions.

2.2)  Squash

At the end of the day, I’m sticking with a handful of tried-and-true varieties of winter and summer squash.  As with the tomatoes above, the ones pictured here  just didn’t do as well as other varieties that I planted.

From now on, I’ll do a couple of varieties of winter squash (Dickenson pumpkin, Waltham butternut squash), a couple of varieties of summer squash (prolific yellow straightneck, black beauty zucchini), and call it a day.

2.3 Cucumbers.

I’m giving up on cucumbers for the time being.  Cucumber beetles are now endemic to my garden.  I’m not willing to use the strong toxins it would take to get rid of them, and none of the varieties above is sufficiently resistant to bacterial wilt, spread by cucumber beetles.  In addition, my attempt at growing parthenocarpic cukes under insect netting failed.  I’m giving it a rest next year.


Conclusion

With that thinning, everything now fits in one plastic shoebox.  In theory, I ought to vacuum-seal these seeds, so they’d last longer.  In practice, I tend to use them up before they start failing to germinate.

This has been an odd post, in that all I talked about is the stuff that didn’t work.  But every once in a while, you have to clean house.  By its nature, that has to focus on the duds.

Post #1638: Hallelujah! Or maybe not. Messiah sing-alongs in the era of endemic COVID.

 

Background

In the runup to Christmas, my wife and I like to attend sing-alongs of Handel’s Messiah.  That’s the one with the Hallelujah Chorus.   I posted about this in December 2019, Post #496.

Or, rather, liked.  Past tense.  That was pre-COVID.

As we learned the hard way, both here and abroad, getting together with a bunch of people and singing is probably the single easiest way to spread COVID-19.  In the U.S., the first such choral super-spreader event was the Mount Vernon, Washington choir practice, which left dozens ill and several dead.  Abroad, many countries saw similar incidents, such as this superspreader event at a church choir in Berlin.

There’s no mystery here.  COVID-19 is spread by aerosols, and singing produces as much aerosol as coughing.  From the standpoint of spreading an aerosol-borne disease, standing in the middle of a choir practice is equivalent to standing in a room full of people who are continuously coughing.

It just sounds a lot better.

Most churches all figured this out, at some point, and pretty much all mainstream U.S. churches banned singing in church during the height of the pandemic (see Post #708).  But that was only after a number of church-related super-spreader events (see Post #679).

Along with that, of course, many (but far from all) Messiah sing-alongs were cancelled for one or more years.


They’re back

A typical example of the adaptation of Messiah to COVID is the long-standing event at Clarendon United Methodist Church.  We attended for years, and it was always one of the best in the area.  The last pre-COVID year was the 2019, when they held their 48th annual sing-along.   In 2020, risks were high enough that they cancelled the in-person service, and instead offered up a retrospective on (what would have been) their 49th Messiah sing-along (reference).  In 2021, they held an in-person service for their 50th annual event, but required masks and proof of vaccination or recent negative PCR test (reference).  Finally, this year, in 2022, they are holding their 51st sing along, with masks required (reference).

Others that we have consistently attended in the past are being offered this year, but with no requirement for masks.  To pick an example, the Reston Chorale always manages to put on a very nice rendition of Messiah.  The ads for the 2022 sing-along make no mention of any precautions (reference).

Near as I can tell, Clarendon UMC is the outlier for requiring any precautions at all.  No others that I have found in my area make any mention of a mask requirement.


So, what are the odds?

Clarendon UMC looks like it holds about 500 people.  Using the same calculation that I’ve used in the past, with our current rate of roughly 10 new cases per day per 100K population, the odds that at least one person in that crowd has an active COVID-19 infection is 36% (calculation not shown).

This should probably be moderated somewhat by this being an elderly and fairly upscale crowd.  So the true odds may be somewhat smaller than that.

Then come all the unknowables.

First, being in the same church as someone with an active case is not the same as getting infected.  Mainly because of distance, but also because my wife and I have both recently had the bivalent booster shot, so our immunity should still be pretty good.

Second, it’s not clear what the impact of the masking requirement will be.  It cuts down the risks, for sure.  And I’ll be wearing a 3M unvented N95, appropriately fitted.  But there’s no telling what the average singer will be wearing.  Or how they will be wearing it.

Finally, there’s the evidence from last year’s events.  I cannot find even a single mention of an outbreak of COVID being traced back to a Messiah sing-along.  I don’t know whether that’s because it didn’t happen, because it wasn’t traced, or because it just didn’t make the news.

If I had to roll it all up into one big explicit guess, between a) the size of the church, b) our recent booster shot, c) the age and high educational attainment of the audience, and d) N95 respirators, I’d have to guess at least a 100-fold reduction in the odds of actually acquiring a COVID-19 infection at this event. Relative to that 36% chance that somebody attending the event with have an active case of COVID.

Or maybe a one-in-300 chance of getting infected. Fully acknowledging the guesswork that went into that.  But, you know, it’s better to make a decision with some number in mind, no matter how hazily derived, then just go with a gut feeling.

And to me, right now, for something I’m going to do once a year, that number doesn’t look too awful.

So, YOLO.  And I ain’t getting any younger.  After talking it over with my wife, maybe it’s time to get out our Messiah scores and start get up to speed on our parts.

Hallelujah.

Post #1637, COVID-19, still 13/100k, Mountain states, and a couple of calculations.

 

It now definitely looks like an uptrend in new COVID-19 cases in the Mountain states.  And maybe the Midwest.  And maybe the start of an uptick in a couple of other regions.  And yet, there’s no uptrend in Canada, or in alpine Europe.  And, as of today, the U.S. remains at 13 new COVID-19 cases / 100K / day, same as it was two weeks ago.  But with an upward trend now.

Separately, I’m redoing the math to check whether or not I can dismiss the steady 3300 daily new COVID-19 hospitalizations as consisting mainly of people hospitalized with COVID, as opposed to those being hospitalized for COVID.  And the answer is no, I can’t.  The numbers just don’t work out.  Near as I can tell, we’re still seeing 3300 a day hospitalized for COVID, and 350 a day dying from COVID.  That means that COVID-19 remains far more serious than seasonal flu. Continue reading Post #1637, COVID-19, still 13/100k, Mountain states, and a couple of calculations.

Post #1636: Countertop water filtration.

 

This is my overview of simple (no-plumbing) water filtration systems currently on the market.  As with many of my posts, I’m writing this up to make sure I understand the topic.  I doubt anyone will read the detail.

To cut to the chase, after 20 years, we’re abandoning our standard Brita water filter in favor of the upgraded version, the Brita Elite.  The new Brita filter fits the old pitchers, but appears to do a much better job at filtration.

This, while I continue to look over our options for a more sophisticated filtration system.

In brief:

Continue reading Post #1636: Countertop water filtration.

Post #1635: First frost

 

Source:  Analysis of historical weather data from NOAA.


Stealth frost

It looks like we’re going to have a few nights with freezing temperatures this week, here in Vienna, VA.

I’ve been doing a few chores in and around the garden to get ready for that.  The most important of which was moving a large potted lime tree into the garage.  Even a touch of frost and that would likely die back to the ground.  I’ve also drained all the water barrels, and I’m bringing hose timers and other frost-sensitive objects inside.

This means it’s also time to redo my prior analysis of trends in first frost.  It’s been unseasonably warm in the East, so it would be no surprise if this year’s first frost were a bit later than usual.

But when I actually looked at the data, I got a surprise:  Dulles Airport (my standard for this frost analysis) recorded a frost about three weeks ago, on October 21.  I missed that, and clearly we didn’t get a frost in Vienna, based on (e.g.) the fact that my okra plants are still alive.

That said, on average, first frost in my area is now about 20 days later than it was in the 1960s.  As you can probably see from the graph, virtually all that change has been in this century.  That couple-of-weeks shift in the first frost date appears to be a fairly widespread phenomenon (per this reference).

That’s consistent with the continued northward shift of the USDA hardiness zones.  They update those every so often, using more recent historical weather (i.e.) climate data.  With the most recent up date (2012, using the 30 years of weather ending 2010), most of the zone boundaries slid north, compared to the prior map (using the 30 years ending in 1990).  Apparently, the average rate of travel of the hardiness zone boundaries is reported at 13 miles (north) per decade (per that same reference).  That varies widely, as zone boundaries at the coast shift more slowly, due to the moderating effects of ocean temperatures.

In any case, it will be sometime around 2040 before Vienna, VA makes it into Zone 8 — or Zone 8 makes it to Vienna — take your pick.

Source:  NOAA, via the New York Times 

So I guess it’s still a bit early to expect climate change to save me from these frost-related chores.  But give it enough time, and we our descendants our descendants, if any, will have no problem growing palm trees around here.

As was true at last year’s first frost date (Post G21-057), indoor relative humidity remains high.  That said, I’m keeping an eye on it, and when it drops below 40%, I’ll start running my humidifiers.  I summarized why that’s important for prevention of respiratory infections in Post #894.

Source:  American Society of Heating, Refrigerating and Air-Conditioning Engineers

Post #1633: An animated 1000 words on flu

 

Source:  CDC weekly influenza map.


This is not the worst flu season ever.

Just the worst in the past decade or so.  Here’s this week, in 2009, which was the worst flu season in about a half-century.

The CDC writeup of the 2009-2010 flu season makes interesting reading.  The severity of the 2009-2010 flu was due to a new and highly mutated strain of flu.  More-or-less nobody under age 60 had any immunity to it. Although CDC doesn’t use the term, that was the swine flu pandemic of 2009/2010.

For the U.S., CDC estimated about 275,000 hospitalizations with flu, and about 12,500 deaths from flu, during that exceptionally severe flu season.

To keep things in perspective, at current rates, for COVID, it will take about 78 days to equal that hospitalization count, and about 35 days to equal that death count.

Or, in round numbers, COVID currently amounts to about 10 swine flu pandemics per year, in terms of deaths, and about 5 swine flu pandemics per year, in terms of hospitalizations.

That’s comparing the current rates from COVID, to the worst flu season in the U.S. in roughly the last half-century.

Even now, you’ll read (e.g.) comments to news stories suggesting that COVID is no worse than flu.  The facts say otherwise.  COVID case rates will have to fall by about a factor of ten before COVID will be no worse than the worst flu season in recent history.

And, just FYI, regarding the death count, these are deaths from COVID, not merely deaths with COVID.  The U.S. CDC says this: 

  • COVID-19 should not be reported on the death certificate if it did not cause or contribute to the death (reference).
  • In at least 90% of cases, COVID-19 was listed as the underlying cause of death (reference). 
  • In the remaining cases, COVID-19 was listed as a contributing cause of death (reference). 

So, yeah, I’m still masking up when I go to the gym.

Post #1632, COVID-19, still 13/100k, no U.S. winter wave yet, maybe some action in the Mountain states

 

Still waiting for the long-anticipated Winter 2022 COVID-19 wave.  Still not seeing it.  U.S. daily new COVID 19 case count stands at 13 / 100K / day, same as the end of last week.

By region, only the graph of the Mountain states resembles any sort of organized uptick in cases.  Everything else is either not rising, or so full of reporting noise that it’s hard to see any obvious pattern. Continue reading Post #1632, COVID-19, still 13/100k, no U.S. winter wave yet, maybe some action in the Mountain states

Post #1631: More weirdness in the market for N95 masks

 

Per prior post, I’m going back to the gym wearing 3M 8511 vented 95 respirators.

Of which I only have two left.  One of which is now quite soggy from its first trip to the gym.

And, while these 3M respirators last a long time, I’ve decided to buy another box for gym use.

I think. 

I mean, I’m sure I’m buying some more vented respirators.  I’m not sure they are going to be genuine 3M masks.  A felt a little tingle in my economists’ sense when I looked over what’s currently being offered, at what price.

For 10 of these 3M 8511 masks:

  • Home Depot wants $2.80 per mask.
  • Ace Hardware wants $2.80 per mask.
  • Lowes wants $2.60 per mask.
  • No-name vendors on Amazon want about $1.80 per mask.

Makes me wonder why 3M would offer such a steep discount to a handful of no-name vendors on Amazon.  Discounts that they won’t offer to big-volume sellers like Home Depot.  All selling just a few boxes each.

Maybe this warning explains it:

Source:  Amazon.

The above is actually in one of the Amazon listings.  But there are no listings for 8511 masks shipped and sold by Amazon, right now.  All the listings for the 8511 masks are a) for tiny no-name vendors, b) with just a few boxes left, c) typically with errors in the listing.

For example, I’m pretty sure this is NOT an accurate description of what these masks are made of.

During the pandemic, 3M had a serious problem with counterfeiting.  Check out the numbers on their COVID-19 fraud page.

I’m guessing the extra-cheap masks on Amazon are the last of the COVID-19 counterfeit stock.  It’s possible that many small vendors ended up with two or three boxes of the real thing, and they’ve all decided to dump them at a steep discount.  Maybe they all bought them at a much lower price than the current price, and they’ve all decided not to make some extra profit by raising their prices.

But if I had to guess, despite the positive comments on Amazon, I’d guess these are COVID-19 counterfeit stock, trickling out into the marketplace via Amazon.

So I’m off to Home Depot for what I sincerely hope will be my last-ever purchase of N95 respirators.

Post #1630: Reluctantly returning to the gym in the era of endemic COVID.

 

I’m old, fat, and have a tough time handling respiratory infections. I haven’t had COVID so far, and I really don’t want to catch it. 

Prevalence of COVID-19 is now about 10 times higher than the first time my wife and I returned to the gym (Post #1163).  But (arguably) lower than when we returned to the gym a second time (Post #1421).  At some level, the risk of going to the gym or not cuts both ways.  It’s a question of what else is going to kill me if I don’t manage to get my heart rate up on a regular basis.  So back to the gym it is.

The bottom line is that I’m going to wear a mask.  No matter how unfashionable that has become.

Not because I’m stubborn, but because I bothered to calculate the odds.  And the decision to go back to the gym, three times a week, will almost certainly expose me to an individual with an active COVID infection, over the course of the year.  Not to mention flu.  Exposure isn’t infection, but still, this is likely going to be the riskiest thing I do in the near term. Continue reading Post #1630: Reluctantly returning to the gym in the era of endemic COVID.