Post #1863: Overthinking winter composting.

 

Yeah, no joke, that’s what this one is about.

After N pages of thinking it through, my solution is to toss two layers of clear plastic over my tumbling composter (below), and hope it buys me a few weeks.

As I have learned from Watch Wes Work, it’s only temporary, unless it works.

It’s a long and winding road, to end up with that.  But sometimes you have to assess the options, even if nothing new jumps out at you.

With my redneck double-glazing, the plastic surface of the composter reached about 110F, on a roughly 70F day.  There’s no way that’s going to get me through the winter.  But maybe it gives me some time to think about it.


Background

Source:  Amazon.

I use the composter shown above.

It has two weird features.

First, it’s made in Canada. 

Second, it doesn’t work in cold weather.  At all.

I guess that’s why they send them down here, eh?

Turns out , wintertime composting is a problem for anyone who composts small amounts of material, in a colder climate.  The heat given off by decomposition isn’t enough to keep the compost warm.  Composting grinds to a halt as temperatures fall.

My dad claimed that when he was a kid, dairy farmers in upstate New York would mound up cow manure around their barns for winter.  This was not for the aesthetics of it.  Instead, this was done to take advantage of the heat generated by large volumes of rotting manure.

In hindsight, that was a lot funnier the way my dad told it.

For two decades now, I’ve stopped composting kitchen scraps each fall, and resumed in the spring.  Today it occurred to me … instead of just putting up with it, I should … maybe look for a solution?

What a radical thought.


What’s that garbage worth to you?

Generically, the problem has two parts:  Get rid of your kitchen scraps responsibly, and produce desirable compost for the garden.

Here’s the thing:  I want the compost.  In my experience, compost is nature’s Miracle-Gro(r).  Or maybe vice-versa.  It’s good for what ails a plant, and then some.  It’s inexplicably helpful.  Gardening black magic.

Otherwise, merely disposing of kitchen scraps responsibly is not an issue for me.  I think.  Elsewhere in the U.S., those scraps might be landfilled, at which point their anaerobic decomposition would generate methane.  If vented to the atmosphere, that’s a bad thing By contrast, Fairfax County VA incinerates its garbage, generates electricity from that, recovers metals as possible, then landfills the ashes. Here, food waste in the household garbage is just more biomass fuel for the electrical grid.

There’s some minor benefit in recovering the plant nutrients in those kitchen scraps.  But not much.  You only need trace amounts of those in the garden, and until the world runs out, those nutrients are cheap.  At present, looks like 10-10-10 fertilizer (10% (by weight?) each of nitrogen, potassium, and phosphorus) runs about a dollar a pound, retail.  I’m finally getting to the bottom of the 10-pound bag of that stuff that I bought fifteen years ago. 

Should I fry in Hell for all eternity on account of that?  I’m thinking, probably not, but it’s debatable.  Conservation of mass says that N, P, and K went somewhere.  If not stored in the soil in my yard, or gone down the sewer pipes, they’ve run off to the Chesapeake.  But is that a large, medium, or small contribution of those nutrients, on a per-person-year basis?  No clue.


Plenty of ways to get rid of household kitchen waste

If it were just a matter of getting rid of kitchen waste, without putting it in the household garbage, I have numerous free and paid disposal options in my area.  Practically speaking, these would require me to store my kitchen scraps for a week at a time. But no longer than that.

Reportedly (my wife did the homework here): In Fairfax County, VA, I have at least these following locations for dropping off my kitchen compostables, for free.  This includes animal products and plate waste, items you would not typically compost at home.

  • The Fairfax County I-66 and I-95 transfer stations/landfills (documented, here).
  • plus all ten farmers’ markets run by Fairfax County (same document).
  • Selected Mom’s Organic Markets (Moms) (documented, here)
  • Whole Foods in Vienna (solely an internet rumor, not documented).

In addition, there’s the option of weekly composting home pickup for  $360/year.  Around here, one may subscribe to a privately-run once-a-week compost pickup service.  Apparently the dominant local service is highly recommended by its users.  It costs ~$30 a month for weekly composting service, and there is no mention of seasonal contracts, so I’m assuming it’s an annual contract.  They’ll even throw in a couple of 20 pound bags of compost, per year, if you ask for it.

The free drop-offs lack appeal for a few reasons.  One, for some reason, my wife isn’t keen on my routinely transporting buckets of decomposing garbage in her car.  Two, I’d be on the hook for making that trip weekly, without fail.   Three, these would require a dedicated car trip just for dumping the kitchen scraps, as I don’t routinely visit any of those places.

The energy required for my part of these options isn’t a big deal, but …  It’s about an 18-mile round trip to the I-66 transfer station.  That would use about the same amount of electricity as drying an extra load of laundry, a week, in the wintertime.  (Call it 3.5 KWH/week.)  Doing that for three wintertime months would generate around 40 pounds of additional C02 release. That 40 pounds is within rounding error on my household carbon footprint.  Not a big deal.

I do wonder about, and am clueless about, the fossil fuels required for the paid pickup option.  Near as I can tell, customers of that service are spread thin.  The service provider has a distinctive bin, and I’ve only noticed one household in my broad neighborhood that puts a bin like that on the curb.  That implies that there are a lot of truck-miles per pickup, but I have no clue just how many, or how large the carbon footprint of that is.

But mostly, where I live, the decisive factor is that putting kitchen scraps in the trash is more-or-less environmentally harmless.  As noted above, they end up as biomass for electrical generation.  They seem to have what economists term “free disposal”, environmentally.  You can convert them back to carbon at virtually zero net cost.  Spending any fossil fuels to get rid of those scraps seems like a losing proposition, from a carbon-footprint perspective.  Let alone the time, effort (and potential car-stink residual) of any of the free dropoffs.

Why go to a lot of trouble, or some trouble and expense, just to shoot yourself in the foot, environmentally?  Even if you’re only shooting yourself a little bit.  If my options are to haul it myself, pay someone to haul it separately, or just put it in the household garbage, it makes more sense to chuck it in the garbage.  At least in Fairfax County.  YMMV.


You know you’re a suburban gardener when …

Source:  Ace Hardware.  Not AI.

You find yourself buying shrink-wrapped shit.  That is, packages of manure.  Off the hardware store shelf.  And not for cheap, either.

I think that was near the low point of my organic-gardening phase.  In the distant past, I was a gardening purist and sought natural sources of nutrients for my garden. No Matter What.

Until one day, after transporting an entire 4’x8’x2′ utility trailer of horse bedding from the exurbs to my garden, I did the math and realized I could have bought the same amount of nitrogen for about $1*, in a nice, clean bag, at the hardware store.  With far less expenditure of fossil fuels for transport.  And far less effort.

* Calculated from data in this reference.  Typical used straw bedding weighs in at maybe 4 lbs/cubic foot, and is one-fourth horse manure.  Manure from a sedentary horse comes in around 7 pounds nitrogen per ton.  My trailer would have held ((4x8x2 cubic fee, * 4 lbs/cu ft.)*(.25% manure * 7 lbs nitrogen per ton for manure / 2000 lbs per ton) = ) about a quarter-pound of nitrogen.   Which is slightly less than you get in a pound of 30-0-0 lawn fertilizer.  Which costs about a buck at Home Depot.  You don’t believe me?  Read the N-P-K percentages on the shrink-wrapped manure, above.

Organic sources of garden nutrients are nice because they are typically slow-release and low-nutrient-density.  That makes it just about impossible to shock your plants with over-fertilization.  (Or goof-proof, said as one who has goofed.) These also add carbon if worked into the soil, which improves its tilth.  But the flip side of low nutrient density is inevitably a relatively high environmental cost in transportation energy.  Finally, I would guess there’s less likelihood the nutrients will be transported by rain runoff, rather than being used by your plants.

Despite that, I decided that it was smarter to use artificial fertilizers sparingly than it was to lug around tons of low-nutrient-density organic matter.  Hence the soil test kit comes out every spring.  And I limit my organic materials to those I can gather at home.  Including kitchen compost.

I’m all for organic sources of garden nutrients.  I just don’t want to haul them any significant distance.  Let alone dispose of the packaging.


A tempest in a compost tea pot?

Before I go to any significant cost to fix this problem, I need to have a quantitative handle on the benefit.  Just how much kitchen-waste compost do I typically produce, in the (roughly) nine months a year that the composter actually works.  And by inference, how much will I gain from an additional three months.

On the output side of the equation, I’d guess that my composter produces about a cubic foot of finished kitchen-scraps compost every three months.  I seem to empty one side of the composter about that often, and each emptying yields one and a half five-gallon buckets of compost.  (N.B. a cubic foot is about 7.5 gallons).  Working it in the other direction, that’s about a third of my estimated initial volume of kitchen waste, which seems about right. (I mix “brown” material 50/50 with the kitchen waste, so in theory, in three months, six cubic feet of total composter input ends up generating one cubic fit of finished compost, or just under an 85%) reduction in volume.  Not sure if that’s a reasonable figure or not.)

So that’s the question.  Where I live, there’s no particular environmental harm in chucking food scraps in the garbage.  The only real benefit of not doing that is the highly desirable compost.  So as I work through this problem, the issue boils down to how much effort should I go to, to obtain an extra cubic foot of high-quality kitchen-scrap compost, per year?


Stuff I’m not going to do.

Countertop electric composter. 

I recall this coming out as a new product just a few years ago.  Now there’s an entire industry segment for countertop electric composters.   These dry and grind your kitchen scraps, resulting in “shelf-stable” dehydrated material.

Looks like your typical countertop electric composter will:

  • cost about $350.
  • hold maybe three quarts of kitchen scraps maximum
  • dry and grind that in 6-10 hours
  • produce a dry, shelf-stable product.
  • reduce the volume by about 90%.
  • produce odors as they work.
  • Use about 0.8 KWH per quart of scraps.

That last one is my estimate.  The manufacturers say somewhere around that much electricity per batch.  But they must be counting on the machine to be only about a third full when run, typically.  (Calculation not shown.  It was boring.)

From the gardening perspective, the end product seems a bit weird to me, in that, well, it’s still food.  It’s not composted, as in rotted.  It’s dehydrated, ground food scraps.

Really, the only difference between this and a food dehydrator is that this dries your food (scraps) and grinds them up.

It’s as if someone mated a hair dryer and a garbage disposal.  I can’t help but think that the (stressed) moving parts predict a relatively short lifespan. 

If I had to work up a figure for my expected electrical use over the winter, for this device, I’d guess that I’d run this for three months (90 days), producing about two quarts of kitchen scraps per day.  If that then takes 1.5KWH per load, over the course of the winter season this would use 135 KWH.  In Virginia, that would result in about 90 pounds of additional C02 emissions per season, from the electrical generation.  (I can’t count on any reduction in landfill methane from not putting my scraps in the trash, because Fairfax County incinerates everything.  I think.)

Aside from the cost, the smell when operating, the potential for the results to attract vermin when used outside, the electricity consumed, and the likely short lifespan of the device, this seems like a pretty good option.

Ew.  Just ew.

One common nugget of internet wisdom is to freeze and store your winter garbage, and compost it later.

Another alternative is indoor worm composting.

Nope.


Groping toward a solution

First, all the internet gives me, for fixing my current composter, is lame advice.  Ooh, just move the composter to a sunnier spot.  That should help with daytime warmth.  Aah, what you need is some insulation, so the heat of decomposition isn’t lost.

Qualitatively, those make sense.  Yeah, you got it, I want my compost to be warmer.

Quantitatively, there’s not a chance either one will do the trick.  As a solar heater, my composter sucks.  That’s not what it was designed for.  It has a lot of mass, but little sun-absorbing surface area.  It doesn’t trap any hot air (it’s not glazed), it’s just black plastic sitting in the sun.  And did I mention it’s plastic, yet it relies on conduction of heat through the durable plastic walls into the composting material.  Separately, as a heat-retaining compost holder, it sucks.  For one thing, the container of compost is suspended, allowing cold air to contact the container from all sides and both ends, all the time.  And you literally can’t insulate the ends or the thing won’t spin.

Let me now discount some out-of-the-blue solution to this.  For example, it might be possible to purchase bacteria that operate efficiently at lower temperatures.  I’ve seen hints that such exist, but I haven’t really hit upon a product aimed at the home market.   Or, surely I could use electricity to warm the composter, but (see “free disposal” above) that surely increases my carbon footprint.   Let me ignore things of that nature.  One’s over my head, the other seems like outright stupidity.

And yet, the internet is kind-of right, because, practically speaking, it comes down to finding a cheap way to keep that composter warm.  Cheap, because my total reward from this is to reap a whole extra cubic foot of compost per year.

And so, first shot, I covered my composter, as I might cover a plant.   In effect, I mocked up a little greenhouse for it, where it stood.  Just like my tomatoes.

Maybe the bricks behind it provide thermal mass.  Maybe that’s where the composter sat and I didn’t want to try moving it when full.

Having looked at solar air heaters, I now know to classify this as a direct solar heater, and as such, probably low-powered.  So I don’t think this, by itself, will do it.  It’s still a lot of mass, and not a lot of surface.  (Plus, if it does, I’m going to kick myself for not having done this sooner.)

But, in my back pocket, I have the notion that it’s not hard to add an indirect solar air heater to that.  And once you go that route, you can, to a limited degree, pick your power to match your application.  So the obvious next step, if and when this fails, is to take the one I just built, mod as required, and see what temperature it can produce inside that composter “tent”.

But that’s as far as I go, today.  Maybe this will do the trick for the next few weeks.  As with my tomatoes, it’s a season-extender.  I doubt this is going to get me through the winter.

Post #1859: Why all bathroom fans suck. A corollary to Post #1843

 

Answer:  Because they’re small.  That’s it.  It’s just basic physics.  And there’s nothing that can be done about it.


Background

In Post #1843, I figured out and explained why ceiling fans are vastly more efficient that box fans.  Where efficiency is measured by cubic feet of air moved per minute, per watt of power used (CFM/watt).

The answer turned out to be remarkably simple:  To move the same volume of air, a smaller fan blade has to move that air much faster.  That’s just arithmetic.  (If the area swept by a 20″ box fan blade is one-seventh the area swept by a big ceiling fan, the box fan has to move the air seven times faster, to keep up with the volume moved by the ceiling fan.)

Moving air faster takes much more energy than moving it slowly.  Not due to the energy-wasting turbulence that might create ( though that can be a factor), but merely because it takes more pressure to move air faster, and overcoming that pressure takes more energy.

Roughly speaking, CFM/watt should scale inversely with the size of the fan.  Given identical designs and motors, a box fan that is one-seventh the size of a ceiling fan should take seven times the wattage to move the same amount of air.  Roughly.

That’s all laid out in Post #1843.


And now on to bath fans

Today the penny dropped, and I realized that this same phenomenon explains the poor performance of bathroom vent fans.  Seems like bath fans take forever to clear a bathroom.  And I include all bath fans, almost regardless of make or quality.  Where a box fan stuck in a window could clear the air in a bathroom in a couple of minutes, an in-ceiling bath fan might take half an hour.

At best, a bathroom vent fan might have 6″ blades, feeding a 6″ diameter duct.  (Although 4″ duct for bath fans is far more common).  Since the area of a circle goes as the square of the radius, the area swept by the blades of a 6″ bath fan would be about ( 3-squared / 10-squared = ) 9% of the area swept by the blades of a 20″ box fan.  And so, to move the same volume of air as a box fan, a hypothetical 6″ bath fan would require (1 / .09 =) 11 times the wattage.

Let me now put that to the test, via virtual shopping at Home Depot.

And, sure enough, the median bath fan from Home Depot moves about one-tenth as much air per watt, compared to a box fan.

Bottom line:  A bath fan that could clear a bathroom as fast as a box fan would draw ten times the wattage of the box fan.  If you could squeeze that much air, that fast, through the ducts, you’d need to have a 500-watt bath fan*, in order to clear a bathroom as fast as a box fan sitting in the window.  That, before we even consider whether or not you could move that much air through a small duct without undue losses due to turbulence.  That, before we consider how much noise that would make.

* That’s 2/3rds of a horsepower, more or less.  A big electric motor, in this application.

And so, the apparent poor performance of bathroom fans is not a figment of my imagination.  Bath fans move air quite slowly, compared to (e.g.) common box fans.  It’s not a design flaw, or an intentional choice.  It’s just physics.  The smaller the fan, the more power it takes to move a given amount of air.  And bath fans — typically restricted to 4″ ducts — can only move a tenth of the amount of air that box fans can move, per watt of power.

Post #1858: Indirect solar food dryer, Part 2: Building a roll-up solar air heater.

In a nutshell:  In an afternoon, I made a roll-up solar air heater using plastic sheeting, a pile of green mesh vegetable sacks, some tape, and a fan.  At solar 3PM, that’s now putting out a nice stream of air at just under 130F.  That should be adequate to serve as the hot air source for drying food.

See the just-prior post for the theory.  In particular, why a mesh-filled tube is a pretty good choice for a solar collector.

When I’m done with it, I can just roll the whole thing up and store it in a nice, compact package.

Background

I want to make a solar air heater, to use for drying my garden produce.  Mainly, for making dried tomatoes.  Solar-powered, because otherwise, in the humid climate of Virginia, my only reliable option is to use an ungodly amount of electricity to make those dried tomatoes..

Source: Post G22-010.

At this point, I’ve exhausted all of the simplest solar-drying options.

Even in Virginia, if you get perfect drying weather for four days in a row, you can dry tomatoes using old-fashioned open-air drying (Post G23-056).  The problem is, you can rarely count on a stretch of weather like that, around here, when you need it.

I also tried making a simple power-ventilated direct solar food dryer.  (That is, a clear-topped, ventilated box in which sunlight shines directly onto the food to be dried.)  My conclusion is that direct solar dryers just don’t have enough power to dry tomatoes reliably in my humid climate (Post G23-058, Post G23-057).

My aha! moment came when I realized that direct solar food dryers are simple flat-plate solar air heaters.  The food sits on or above that flat plate.  Simple flat-plate solar collectors are the least efficient way to convert sunlight into heat energy.

So here I am.  My late-season tomatoes are (finally!) ripening, so it’s time to get this done.  I’m upping my game by making an indirect solar food dryer.   This is a dedicated solar air heater, hooked up to a box that contains the food to be dried.  That arrangement allows you to increase the power input, both by increasing the efficiency of the solar energy capture, and increasing the ratio of solar energy capture area to area of food to be dried.


Celebrating the cheap and flimsy design.

Source:  Government of New Zealand.

Funny thing about the word “cheap”.  Once upon a time, it had no negative connotations.  It was used as we might use “inexpensive” today.  Goods were advertised for their exceptional cheapness.  Which, back in (say) Colonial American times, meant low price, not shoddy construction.

My point being that as long as I’m making a cheap and flimsy solar air heater, I might as well celebrate that.  No sense in trying to make a high-quality cheap and flimsy device.  Might as well make it as cheap and flimsy as possible.


Construction overview.

Solar air heater.
  • Make a big plastic tube out of a single sheet of clear plastic.  When flattened, roughly 4′ across by 16’+ feet long.
  • Place a 4′ wide piece of black or reflective plastic inside the tube, to form the inside bottom of the collector.
  • Stuff the tube, between the black/reflective plastic bottom and the clear plastic top, to a few inches depth, with a loose layer of dark, porous material.  I’m using mesh produce sacks, see below for other suggestions.
  • Leave 2′ empty, at either end of the tube, for attaching it to fan and duct.
  • “Quilt” the stuffed portion of the tube.  That is,  stitch through it with twine, or otherwise tack top to bottom, just enough that the top of the tube cannot “balloon” when the fan is turned on.  (The point of this is to force the air through the porous filler, not above it.)
  • OR, simply weigh down the top of the tube, with pieces of wood, to achieve the same end of keeping the top of the tube sitting firmly on the stuffing.
  • Tape the fan to one end, oriented to blow air into the tube.
  • Tape a piece of flexible dryer duct to the other end.

In pictures:

Plastic, about 8′ wide by about 20′ long.

Plastic sheet folded in half to make a long 4′ wide tube, then taped (see tape seam at left), with a 4′ wide piece of radiant barrier inside the tube to serve as the bottom.  I’m not even sure that radiant barrier (or equivalent piece of black plastic) is necessary.  FWIW I used Gorilla (r) duct tape, and that seems to be sticking well to the plastic sheet.

A bunch of mesh vegetable sacks drying in the sun, after being hosed off.  Why do I own these?  Long story.  But because I already owned them, I’m using this as my solar collector material, rather than black screening.

The plastic tube, now stuffed with those mesh sacks, balled up.  Try to pack it loosely, but with no voids that would let air flow around the mesh, rather than through the mesh.  You want to force the air to flow through the mesh so that it will pick up heat from the sun-exposed mesh.

Ready to run.  Fan is clipped into the near end, a piece of flex duct is clipped into the far end, and chunks of wood weigh down the top.  You can see that the top still balloons up a bit, between the pieces of wood, from the force of the fan.

The fan is an ancient twin-bladed window fan.  I’m guessing that with no resistance, it moves 250 CFM on low, and draws maybe 30 watts.  With the resistance imposed by passing through the mesh, I have no idea how many CFM it moves.

Same, side view.

Same, end view.

A nice stream of 129F air, at solar 3 PM, on an 80F day, with no adjustments?  That’ll do.

Total assembly time was around two hours.  And I now have a roll-up solar air heater that is adequate for the task of drying tomatoes.

Food dryer (TBD).

I am greatly simplifying my task by using Nesco food dryer trays.  With the addition of a bit of tape, these can be stacked to form an air-tight cylinder, with the food to be dried neatly laid out within that cylinder.  All I need to do is place that cylinder above an appropriately-sized hole in a cardboard box.  Run the flexible duct from the solar air heater into that box, and that will serve as the food dryer unit.

Note that with this design, the cardboard box itself doesn’t get wet.  All the humid air from the food goes up the stack of trays, and out.

 

Materials/tools list for the solar collector:

  • Pair of scissors.
  • Clear plastic sheet, approximately 8′ x 16′, or longer as desired.
  • Black or reflective plastic sheet, 4′ x 12′, or ditto.
  • Optional:  Additional clear plastic sheet 4′ x 16′, or ditto.
  • Dark, porous material to fill the tube (e.g., plastic screening, see below).
  • Tape (packing tape, duct tape, or whatnot).
  • Twine and something to use as a needle for “sewing” with that twine,
    • OR, double-stick tape.
    • OR four 8′ 2x4s.
  • Window fan or standard 20″ box fan.
    • Cardboard (e.g., 20″x20″ square) for modulating air flow from box fan.
  • Small length of flexible dryer duct.

Materials for the food dryer unit

  • Cardboard box
  • Nesco round drying trays (or substitute what you have).
  • Tape.
  • Cardboard sheet to cover the top of the stack of trays.
  • Instant-read thermometer.

Details

Step 0:  How big?

I’d like this to to produce around 900 watts of heat, on average, over an eight-hour sunny summer day, at 40 degrees north latitude.  Assuming this is 30% efficient at capturing sunlight, then, based on my prior calculations, this should capture an average of 18 watts per square foot.  So I’m shooting for about 50 square feet of collector.

I have no intuition as to the right shape.  I’m guessing that depends on a lot of factors.  The material I’m starting from is almost 20′ wide, so I’m tentatively planning on a tube about 4′ wide and 20′ long.  That’s a bit larger than necessary, but it matches what I have on hand.  Of that 20′, a couple of feet on either end will be used to connect to fan and duct, and so will not contribute much, if anything, to solar energy collection.

I’m guessing that one 8′ x 16′ piece of clear plastic sheet should be adequate to form the tube.  I’ll need a further 4′ x 16′ piece of black or reflective plastic to line the bottom of the tube.  And, optionally, one more piece of clear plastic, 4′ x 16′, to add to the top for “double glazing” of the finished, quilted tube.

Step 1:  Obtain a large amount of dark, porous, lightweight material.

In my case, that’s a box of mesh produce sacks that I’ve had on hand for years.  (These were part of a failed attempt to simplify the handling of my firewood.)

Plastic window screening should work fine, but is an expensive solution if you are using new materials, due to the amount of material required.

Or, you might try doing this with no filler.  Just blow air down a hollow clear-topped tube.  That should make this much less efficient at capturing sunlight.  So make the tube bigger than you would otherwise.

Beyond that, if you use something that isn’t compressible, you lose the ability to roll this up when you are done with it.  If you don’t value that, you could consider:

  • Styrofoam packing peanuts, painted black.
  • Coarse, dark, shredded wood mulch.
  • Possibly, lava rock.
Step 2:  Make a large plastic tube with a clear top and a black or reflective bottom.

This couldn’t be easier.  Get some clear plastic sheeting, e.g., the stuff they sell as dropcloths at the hardware store.  (In my case, I’m using greenhouse plastic, which is more UV-resistant than garden-variety hardware-store plastic sheeting.clear-topped plastic tube.)  Fold it in half, and tape the edges together.

I’m going for a reflective bottom because I own a roll of house-construction radiant barrier material.  The idea is that any light penetrating the layer of loose fill will get reflected back up into that loose fill.  And, where the fill is at least a half-inch away from the radiant barrier, the barrier will act as insulation against radiation heat loss through the back of the tube.

Step 3:  Stuff the tube — but NOT the last 2′ on either end — with a few inches’ thickness of dark, porous material.

For me, this was as simple as temporarily closing off one end of the tube, scrunching up the mesh sacks, chucking them inside, and using a stick to arrange them into a single, packed mass.

This isn’t precision work.  The air is going to flow through all 16′ of the tube.  As long as there’s no continuous channel through which the air can flow from end to end and bypass your porous material, you should be fine.

Step 4:  Keep the top of the tube from ballooning up.

You want air to pass through the porous filling, not above it.  So you want to keep the plastic top sheet right down on top of the filling, in some fashion.

I was originally going to “sew” or tape the top and bottom together in places, to do this.  But on reflection, the easiest thing to do is weight the top down, while obstructing as little light as possible.

I’m just going to toss some 2×4’s onto the top of the sheet, and, if necessary, weigh them down with (e.g.) bricks.

Optionally, add a second layer of “glazing” by tossing another clear plastic sheet on top of this.  That will trap insulating air where the top of the tube is depressed by the quilting or the 2x4s.  I’m guessing this isn’t worth it, but I make try adding it and taking it off to see what happens to the resulting air temperature.

Step 5:  Attach fan and duct.

Attach a window fan or 20″ box fan to one end, and a short length of flexible dryer vent to the other.

I want to be able to take this apart at the end of the season, to store it, so I’m doing these attachments with lengths of bungee cord.  You could just as easily make the attachments with tape, and peel back the tape at the end of the season.

Step 6:  Make and attach air distributor for food drying (TBD).

Because I’m using round Nesco trays, my air distributor will just be a box, somewhat larger than the trays, with holes for the dryer duct and the trays.  Run the dryer duct into the box.  Place a piece of cardboard on top of the uppermost tray, to make sure the hot air hits all the food as evenly as possible.  That’s it.

Step 7:  Operation.

Place the tube on the ground, in the sun.  Place weighs on top of the flat solar-collector tube, to keep the top from ballooning up.  Attach duct, fan, and (eventually) food drying box.  Turn on the fan.


Summary

It works.  And it’ll roll up at the end of the season.  So that’s a success.

This could use a bit of tweaking.

I probably used way more mesh “stuffing” than I really needed.  I can’t even see the reflective bottom of the solar air heater, through the green mesh bags stuffed inside.

I’m sure this would get hotter if I could tilt it so that it was perpendicular to the sun’s rays.  As one would do with a solar panel.

But … it works well enough as-is.  So I don’t see any need to modify it.  I can unroll it in the sun, attach small fan and duct, and produce a nice stream of hot air as long as the sun shines.  That’s really all I need it to do.

Arguably the most mickey-mouse aspect of this right now is the weights for the top.  Without those, the plastic sheeting simply balloons up, and the air passes over the mesh, not through the mesh.  Tossing some sticks on top makes it work, for now, but I’d like to get a more elegant solution at some point.

I’m now going to roll this up and put it away until my final crop of late-season tomatoes starts ripening in earnest.  Then I’m going to use this for a last batch or two of dried tomatoes.  Weather permitting.

Addendum:  Oh for duh!

Turn the fan around and stick it in the other end of the tube.

After I put this together, I went looking for a better fan.  Window fans of the sort I’m using really shouldn’t be used to push against considerable resistance. 

That’s when I realized that if I sucked air out of the tube, instead of blowing air into the tube, the entire problem of having the surface of the tube balloon up simply goes away.  All the wood and metal pieces on top of the solar air heater are unnecessary.  And I end up with a simpler and more elegant design.  If such a word can be applied to this cheap and flimsy roll-up solar air heater..

Post #1852: The USDA says to #leavetheleaves.

 

No less an authority than the USDA is now on the bandwagon for #leavetheleavesThat is, the idea that gathering and disposing of fallen autumn leaves is foolish from an environmental standpoint.

The conspiracy-minded among you may view this as just another facet of the Deep State, an evil cabal within the U.S. Civil Service determined to disrupt every facet of the American Way.  Yes, stooping so low as to attack that most harmless of small-town fall rituals … 

requesting that citizens rake/blow leaves to the curb, so the Town can repeatedly drive its high-decibel fleet of dedicated leaf-vacuuming equipment through town, and so spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to suck up those leaves, then trucking hundreds of tons of leaves down the interstate so that they can be sterilized via hot composting at some remote location, ensuring that no offspring of this year’s crop of butterflies and similar insects survive.

Well, at least, that’s the tradition in my small town.  It’s an industrial-scale process that’s a far cry from Normal Rockwell, if you get my drift.

Source:  Pinterest.

The USDA is just the most recent in a long line of organizations that have gotten behind the idea that leaf collection and disposal of this type is a relic of the past.  Historically, in this area, it’s the immediate successor to the era in which suburbanites routinely raked up and burned fall leaves.  Before that was banned owing to the resulting air pollution.

Locally, even the surrounding county (Fairfax County, VA) has proposed to stop doing vacuum leaf collection (see Post #1821).  In part, because that turned out to be a real hassle for county staff this past year.  But also for all the good reasons outlined on the USDA web page.

But in Vienna, VA, traditions die hard, unless there’s some profit to be made in killing them.  And new learning percolates excruciatingly slowly.  Town-wide, this is mostly about doing our bit to slow the insect apocalypse (reference National Academies of Science).  Not sure that matters to most residents, even though it should, from a survival-of-our-species standpoint.  All said and done, it’s still an open question as to whether we can break ourselves of this 40-year-old tradition.  Just to benefit a bunch of butterflies and such.

My prior screeds on this subject include:

  • Post 1822, on the fuel used in this process.
  • Post 1821, on Fairfax County staff recommending no leaf vacuuming.
  • Post 1612, on the emissions from gas versus electric leaf blowers.
  • Post G22-034, on vacuum leaf collection being a relic of the past.
  • Post 1463, on putting the environment first in the Town’s decision-making.

This, in addition to several posts on the economics of the Town of Vienna’s centralized leaf collection and disposal process.

 

Pictures in this post are mainly from Gencraft.com and Freepik AI

Post #1851: Who put the weather on fast-forward? Tropical storm Ophelia.

 

Tonight and tomorrow, it’s going to rain like crazy around here.  In the DC area, we’re expecting to get about three inches, with some significant probability of tropic storm force winds (sustained winds in excess of 39 MPH).  My brother lives in the Tidewater area, and he’s right on the edge of the region where four to six inches of rain are expected.  Along with maybe a four foot tidal surge.  All from tropical storm Ophelia.

What I find odd about is that the very first mention of this disturbance was late yesterday morning.  That’s based on a check of the archives at the the National Hurricane Center.  The very first mention of Ophelia — the point at which it became a named tropical storm — was the forecast update as of late afternoon today.

Source:  National Hurricane Center.

In short, the interval between this thing becoming a name tropical storm, and the start of the deluge, here in NoVA, is maybe eight hours.  Plus or minus. Even worse, my brother in the Tidewater area got about 6 hours’ warning between the time Ophelia became a named storm, and the time that tropical-storm-force winds are expected to hit his area.

I don’t think the weather used to work this way.  Either that, or my memory has become so clouded that I don’t recall the times this has occurred in the past.

I used to have a sailboat, down in Tidewater Virginia, a couple of hours’ drive from where I live.  I spent many autumns tuned into the hurricane forecast for this area, because a major storm meant that I had to move the boat off its dock and moor it in the middle of the river.  (Because, if you don’t, the storm surge floats your boat up and over the dock, at which point wave action destroys both the boat and the dock to which it is tied.  So it’s not optional.  It was written into the contract allowing me to use the dock.)  This, along with everybody else who kept a boat at the same dock.  It was quite a fire drill every time.

My recollection is that major tropical cyclones were well-anticipated events, and that you’re read about them for days before they made landfall.  I’d have plenty of time to gear up, arrange time off work, and get the boat prepped for the oncoming storm.

I further recall that when a few such storms “popped up” in the Gulf of Mexico two years ago, without crossing the Atlantic first, that was news, meteorologically-speaking.

But maybe the short-cycling of tropical storms is now the new normal.  Plausibly, this is brought about by elevated Atlantic Coast sea surface temperatures.  Warm ocean temperatures in the Gulf of Mexico got all the headlines with the most recent hurricane.  But in fact, ocean water temperatures are a few degrees above historical averages all up and down the U.S. East Coast.  And, apparently, a few degrees is all it takes to whirl up a tropical storm in a couple of days, flat.

And so, this went from literally nothing on the weather map, to landfall of a tropical storm, in just about exactly two days.

And, unlike those pop-up tropical depressions of a couple of years back, that doesn’t even seem to be triggering comment this time around.

It’s just the way the world works now.  Having days of warning for a tropical storm landfall?  That’s so last-century.

Get used to it.

All pictures here are from Gencraft.com AI.  We never really did have a meeting of the minds over what I meant by “hurricane”.

Post G23-058: Solar tomato drying fail.

 

A few days back I set up a batch of tomato slices to dry in my tote-based solar food dehydrator.  Without perfect weather, it was a race between sunlight and mold.

Mold won, as shown above.

At the minimum, this convinces me that I need an indirect solar dryer, as described in the just-prior post.  My little plastic-tote dryer just doesn’t have enough power to dry tomatoes in less-than-perfect weather.

The interior of the tote seemed to get pretty hot, in full sunlight.  As in 130F, loaded with just two small trays of tomato slices.  So I’m not quite sure why this failed so badly.

One possibility is lack of direct ventilation of the tomato slices.  I had a computer fan pulling air through this tote.  While that did in fact exhaust the humid air in the tote, there was nothing blowing on the tomatoes to disrupt the  “boundary layer” of air directly adjacent to each tomato slice.  I would then guess that the air directly adjacent to each slice stayed quite humid, thus encouraging mold growth.

A second possibility is the lack of sterilizing UV radiation inside the tote.  I believe the clear Sterilite tote is made of polyethylene, which is a reasonably good absorber of UV radiation.  UV strongly inhibits mold growth, so the presence of warmth without UV was less than ideal.

Yet a third is the level of cloud cover.  Depending on the day and the hour, the summer sky in Virginia can be quite cloudy.  This power-ventilated box is going to cool off pretty rapidly in any extended period of cloud cover.

My bottom line is that if the weather is good enough to use this tote-based direct solar dehydrator, I’d be better off just sun-drying my tomatoes the traditional way.  Lay them on a screen, cover them with netting, and expose them to the breeze and the sunlight.

 

Illustrations in this post are from Gencraft.com and Freepik AI.  The only real picture is the first one, of blackened tomato slices sitting on drying trays.

Post G23-057: Solar food drying, a better understanding

 

Upshot:  Direct solar food drying — putting your food out in the sun (with or without some clear cover) — is an inherently low-powered and slow way to dry food.

By contrast, indirect solar food drying — connecting a solar heat collector to a box full of food to be dried — can be much, much faster.  That’s because you can increase the power of the device.  Mostly, you can greatly increase the efficiency of the solar collector, relative to direct solar drying.  Secondarily, you can also make it larger, if you choose — there’s no necessary relationship between solar collection area and the area covered by food.

And faster drying means lower taxes!!!  Uh, no, I meant, faster drying means fewer days-in-a-row at the mercy of the weather.

The key, to all this new-found wisdom?  Figuring out that a box-with-clear-lidfood dryer is, technically speaking, a flat-plate solar collectorThen realizing that flat-plate is really inefficient, relative to other things I could make.

I need to make an indirect solar food dehydrator.  And it only took me two or three years to figure this out.

In the interest of reducing TL;DR, I’m breaking this into two posts. This post is just the setup.  Next post should be the actual construction and use, if any. Continue reading Post G23-057: Solar food drying, a better understanding