240 and Ticking

I started 365 on January 1st. I wanted a challenge, a recording. I wanted to pick up my camera daily and work it, work my eye and my equipment. I wanted the discipline. I am 240 days in with a few missed days here and there which is not too hard to shrug off.



I am finding that I may be getting more than I thought from this year of shooting. I may have recorded the last year we will live in this house, this space, these hills, this Home. Hard to believe so much (and yet so little) has happened in the span of 240 days.

In January Tim and I took a solo trip North. We needed kid-less time and we wanted to explore. We headed North into the land at the base of Lake Tahoe, rolling foothills not very different from our own but with so much more space and possibility and promise. The promise tasted sweet and unfamiliar, an adventurous taste reminding us of those days pre-family and pre-home ownership when we used to leave ... to Africa, to Ireland, To Oz. It was a heady thought, the leaving and relocating. We returned home, immersed back into the Home we have now, the work, the friends, the lives. But we could not let it go.

We talked about it. I Mondo Beyondo'd it in a very quiet internal way. We incessantly perused Zillow and Redfin and had discussions with my live in parents about logistics and possibilities and hope for a different place, a Future that was not so shaped by the Past.

And then we went, three weeks North with our boys, seeing family interspersed with more searching and finding, a deepening well of assurance that this was right. We left reluctantly, afraid to re-immerse and reconnect and maybe forget our resolve.

The day before we returned I screwed up the courage to look into one of the larger healthcare providers in the area. They had no less than 5 jobs open in my area of practice, 5 jobs in the area we want to call Home. But I stalled, hesitated to apply online, frozen in the headlights of such big change.

I spoke to my supervisor the first day back about my desire to move and the very real possibility of leaving my position. She was supportive and encouraging and even gave me ideas about what my salary should be up North. I still did not apply.

It has been a month since we returned. Last Monday I put in my application. I received a call back that evening. I talked with a recruiter Tuesday then had a phone interview Wednesday for a position, Friday for another. The medical system is stellar, the people I have spoken to make me smile, the jobs offer fully paid benefits for the whole family and a whole lot of other bells and whistles that had me jumping up and down in my chair. We are headed North again, Tim and I, two in-person interviews scheduled for later in September.

I am giddy, I am so damn nervous and I am marveling at all that can happen in 240 days. Some days have felt mundane and unoriginal, slogging through paperwork, later seeking a glimmer of light for that picture I 'have' to take.


But if this all happens in the way it may happen, I will forever be amazed and grateful for recording the Year Our Lives Changed A Lot.

Going to keep going to see what the next 125 days hold.

A Week of B&W

It has been quite a week. I decided that I should switch my camera settings to B&W on Sunday and shoot a week of it for my 365. Talk about revelations.



Just for a little bit of context, Tim has been to school for photography. Back in the day when people still (gasp) shot film. His camera bag of old holds a medium format Pentax and a spot meter. The camera is all manual and that is what his eye is trained to see. Me? Always been one to sponge knowledge where I can, so I went out and about with him and queried about the Zone System to no end.

Then enter twins, no time or reaction time and enter DSLR. Which he railed against until streaking toddlers and a Canon f1.4 lens. And then we fell in love with digital and have not shot film in ages.


These ones are Tim's photos, btw.

He stills rocks the shot because he knows what he is doing. Not lazy like I am, not content to shoot Aperture priority and trust the bo-keh will make it look good. Nope. He shoots true. Even in digital. Especially in B&W because he understands Zone and knows his eye. And me? I still don't know what I am doing, not really.

I was looking over my 365 and noticed that the photos so far were really, er, saturated. I try not to 'fix' stuff too much in processing so I guess all that hot color is what my photographic eye sees. I thought it might be a good challenge to shoot 365 in B&W for a week. And boy, was it a challenge.

Do you know the Zone? Ansel Adams developed it as a way to help identify proper photographic exposure. Sounds dry but then you look at his photos and realize his genius. It is designed mostly for B&W but is applicable along all spectrums, all eyes. And it has made me think so much this week, about what I see, what my camera lens sees, what you see.

This week with my camera brought me to is a new place. A thinking place. Not thinking to get the best shot, because believe me, that was not happening. But a thinking place with my eye, my finger on the button, my composition and my camera.



Taking a picture a day has not been hard (she says 22 days in, haha). But taking a good picture a day. Aye, there's the rub. I'm keeping on because I love what 365 is doing for my drive to shoot photos but switching back to color for now.

Write It Out

It is always wonderful and a bit strange to arrive at a new point with the boys, a place I had hoped we would be someday. That happened this weekend with the start of what I hope will become a weekly tradition and practice, that of Journaling.


I recall reading a post over a year ago, cannot remember where. It was about the joy of journaling with small children. At the time the boys were so young, able to scribble and scrabble and have fun with pen and ink, but also very into using lots and lots of pages. We have always tried to incorporate drawing/writing/coloring etc, but never in a truly focused way.

Then I read a post over at Chookooloonks about starting a journal for the new year. A real written journal with pages and stuff. That needs a hand and pen and stuff. And it sounded good. (The link came from my new muse, Erica, who is rocking my 365 world and making it a pleasure to play on Flickr more)(She blogs here with her cool sister-who-is-also a-mama-of-beautiful-twin-girls Jill).

I headed out to Target with gift cards in hand (I've been very good at work apparently) and perused the notebook section until I spotted one that called to me. Something about faux leather and graph paper that I cannot resist.


Anyway, I thought I would pick up two extra for the boys to attempt a weekly journal practice with them. They are really into storytelling and letters and writing, their new school setting is so wonderful about prompting this without forcing and we are watching them reap the benefits.


We sat down Sunday at the table with the notebooks turned to the first page and the date marked on the top.

Their journals are really just spiral bound pages that lay flat and are made from banana which is pretty cool. I thought I would prep the area a bit and had some magazine pages featuring winter in Nova Scotia (brrr) and pencils, pens and a few Sharpies (man, those kids love Sharpies).

And I let them go to town.

It was an interesting experience.



I was pleasantly surprised that they understood and agreed to use just one page and it was fascinating to watch their 'process'. First it was oral with scribbles, then they got into the pictures, cutting and pasting and telling me all about what was happening. I journaled with them in my little book and we finished with a few notes by me on their pages and their names traced.

I loved that they also gave me the books without any freak outs and helped me put them away until next week with the instructions that I take care of their journal. We sat at the table for about 30 minutes altogether and ended up finding a new place/space to share with each other. This is one of the things that I love about their growing. Always finding new places and spaces together.


If you have little people I would encourage you to do this with them. Seeing how proud they were of their creations and knowing I will look back over them someday down the line have made me commit to following through. If you do play along, let me know.

2011 is shaping up to be a year of projects and doing and making and I am getting more and more excited about it. So, come join in the with us. Even if you do not have littles you can journal, just read that link to get excited and inspired. Happy hand writing, friends

Anew

That last post was somewhat prompted by the odd heady space Tim and I have been in since the New Year came. I think I have mentioned in a not so specific way that we are thinking of moving. It felt not so specific until this past weekend. Now it feels like a much more real and present prospect, an idea that can become reality.


It is not an imminent move, we are not packing any bags quite yet. There are a lot of logistics to sort out but first we had to make sure. So we spent a weekend exploring the curves and secrets and contours of a place that we would like to call home someday. We visited the library because the library can speak volumes for a town. I found the mother lode of buttons at the local antique shop (a good omen, I believe). We saw land and farms and found ourselves climbing steep mountain roads that made me ill.

It is still California but North, far from the dry Southland we now call home. And yet, there is a continuity to California, something that fits like a good coat.

We want some breathing room, some not so suburban living, access to the things that we love so dearly and try to appreciate daily.

We want to be closer to a family that is performing a mass exodus north with no designs on returning to the L.A. basin. I want chickens and maybe a goat, a pond would be nice. And I want a place to wear these. I want my boys to be able to roam a little freer in an area that still rolls without the interruption of tract home after tract home coating the once oak filled hills.


So, we took the first tentative step into a new world of unknowns. The next steps are much more concrete and involve finishing home projects and deck building and front door refurbishing with the aim to invite someone else into my childhood home and ask them to live here (for a fee, of course). It feels good/odd/scary/different but it does not feel bad and it does not feel sad. And I think that is what matters most.

The up side? If we do fix up this place and decide not to sell, I anticipate we will have one hell of a nice place to live.

Rip and Resow

Unlike many others out there, I do not mind the yearly making of resolutions. I always do better with a list and really, resolutions are just another one of those to me. I tend to make the list for the New Year, casual but with good intentions and then try not to sweat it too much when they do not all happen. Better to make the list and cross of a few then plod along without any change to greet this new happenstance, 2011.

A few days before the New Year we gathered in the 'garden' and surveyed the somewhat sorry state of affairs.


There were scads of basil bush gone to seed, old tomato vines curled upon themselves and peppers looking more than worse for the wear. There were also strawberry runners promising new fruit and some self seeded onions. It felt good to pull out old roots, scatter some basil seed liberally and take stock of what could be. Then the rain came in again, drenching it all. Plans for this year started to form and visions of an actual 'good' tomato harvest came to mind.



Then the weekend came and went as did the New Year, no lists written, the planned for vision board as suggested by Karen sinking to the bottom of the list that included storing Christmas stuff and digging out from under the laundry. But the list, those resolutions are there, simmering under the surface and waiting for a few moments with pen and ink and clear head that has more than 4 hours sleep in it.

The idea of doing Mondo Beyondo again came to mind a few weeks ago, but I did not pounce. I loved it so but feel as if I am still processing it even a full year later. But then I did find something I want to join, something that has intimidated me from the get-go. Project 365. Not of me, not my face, but of our lives, our daily life in and out and about. This fine lady and her video convinced me it was time. And so it has begun, Day 3 now.

I look forward to see the mundane and the special, the vertical change that may (or may not happen) with the boys, the subtle shift in facial expression and line that 365 days can bring. This may be a year of upheaval and opportunity, change and growth. Or it may just be 2011.

We will just have to see, right?

P.S. They are almost ripe. The New Year looks good so far, my friends, doesn't it?

Saturday Inspired :: Log Cabin

JCasa has been posting about her inspired Saturdays and I thought I would join in this week. The project actually started on Thursday but since I finished it this morning and it is currently in use under the head of a napping someone, I figured it would fit right in.

Earlier in the week I read a post by Jennie over at Tangerine and Turquoise about her log cabin pillow project for her sweet boy's classroom. The work in progress caught my eye, as did her explanation when I left a question in the comments. I wanted to know the how and her simple reply was to cut a center square, grab scrap cut stash pieces and see if they fit. Now, that is my kind of instruction.


Thursday I gathered up the plethora of scrap that has resulted from cutting hundreds of 4" squares for the stash quilt and set up a simple portable iron and trim table next to the sewing machine in order to eliminate having to move back and forth while sewing and cutting and I got to work... and almost forgot to pick up the boys from school because this project was totally engrossing.

The idea for a portable iron table came from Jenny too, and I think it was a major help, it made the piecing flow and kept me from the fatigue that usually happens when I have to get up, walk across the room to the ironing table, steam, cut, walk back....etc. And I vaguely recall in my initial reading of Amy Karol's book that it really does behoove you to set up your sewing table in such a manner.

In no time I had a piece large enough to cover a pillow and then I quilted it with some straight lines, doubled up chocolate-colored linen for the back of the pillow and it came together in a very simple fashion this morning. My first log cabin, if you can call it that. My first home decor and a first in the 'quilted with some type of pattern' technique.





And I love it.

I was always a little intimidated by the idea of quilting, searching for a right way to approach it, but this taught me that there is not necessarily a 'right' way, rather there are lessons and practice in the act of actually doing it. The piece is off center because at some point I think I stopped rotating it or something, there is an odd little patch piece in the corner because I cut through the finished piece before quilting (classic Amiee move) and I gave no thought to color, just grabbed and pieced as instructed by Jenny.



End result? Love. And inspiration to make 100 more...this is such a great way to actually use and 'see' the fabrics that I cherish so dearly.

What have you been waiting too long to do, my friends? If there is that 'something' I say, try it. Ignore worst case scenarios, don't hesitate, give it a go...you might end up with pillows or photos or who knows. Pretty cool.

Hail to the Olympics

I am such a total sucker for the Olympics. Total. Sucker. I have to admit that I have spent the better part of the last few days watching hours of footage, hours and hours. I have stayed up until 1 a.m. despite the fact that we recorded the coverage on the DVR, stayed up because I literally cannot stop watching.

These people, these Olympians, impress me in so very many ways. They have such focus and determination and desire. I love sitting witness to the fruition of their dream. Some have come back and come back again and tried and hoped and trained, and finally receive redemption and validation. Some do not. But to me, all of them are champions in their own ways, in their own skin.

I remember when the Olympics were hosted by Los Angeles in 1984. My father worked at Cal State Los Angeles where they held some of the events. I remember going to the campus and feeling the magic, the vibration of the festival. I do not even remember if we watched any events, I can just recall walking around the campus and knowing in my heart that something wonderful was happening. I was 10 years old and along with millions of other young girls, found myself riveted to the TV when Mary Lou Retton came on. She meant so many things to my young girl Self, she was all I thought about for weeks after the Games.

That local Olympic festival left me with two very tangible things. The first was a desire to participate in gymnastics. After the Games, I signed up and trained, eventually even competed in lower level divisions. I was much too old when I started, and a part of me knew that. I never dreamed of Olympic gold but thrived on the environment of learning and challenge and discipline. My years of dance made the transition easier, but I never really conquered a fear of the uneven bars and eventually I asked my very supportive parents if I could leave it behind. I returned to dance and have never really regretted the decision. I just wish I was still as strong and flexible as that young girl who used to whip around the floor or perch precariously on the beam.

The other tangible? Well, after the Games, my father collected up three of the metal framed bunk beds used in the Olympic dorms. He brought them home to his growing family and explained where they came from. You would have thought they were Olympic gold. For weeks we would reverently touch the frames, thrilled to know we laid our heads in the very same spot some of the amazing Olympians had. I also may have embellished the story to classmates just a bit and bragged that I had May Lou Retton's actual bed (oh, yes I did). Those beds served our family for many years, withstanding much abuse, and they always meant so very much despite their lack of style or adornment.

Now, during these Games, I am making another tangible. We knitters, looped as we are, tend to jump at the chance to challenge ourselves. So, a few Games ago, a wonderful knitter/blogger/writer The Yarn Harlot started the Knitting Olympics. You pick a project, cast on at the Opening Ceremony and attempt to finish it by the end of the two weeks. I did it during the Summer Games with some success.

This year I chose a lovely and serviceable project designed by the esteemed Elizabeth Zimmerman.


Yards of yards of wool consumed by the simplest of garter stitch, perfect for knitting and watching, perfect because in the end you have the most lovely and elfin of pieces, sure to fit a small child for years and years. In a very appropriate turn, it will go to a Canadian friend (well, her young daughter), to be used in a place that receives blankets of snow and low enough temperatures to need a thick wool sweater.

A few things I am not loving is the NBC coverage with their sensationalism and sappy spots on the serious athletes. And their extremely late night showing times (thank god for the DVR for those mights when I fall asleep drooling in my knitting, like last night). And their horrible announcers that love to point out the supposed 'failure' of an athlete when things do not go well. I like that I can zip past their unneeded commentary and focus on the thing that I do love, the people and their achievements and joyous accomplishment.



And now, back to my own joyous accomplishment. Knit on, fellow Olympic knitter people. We can do it.

Btw :: Like the delicious juicy colors of the garter stitch? I do. Mmmmmm.

F4F :: A Good Cause

Getting to F4F this week has not been easy. We have been mired in some sort of sickness since the New Year, Tim is going on his 6th week of respiratory complaints, the boys are in competition for which can fever/cough/drool and need the most carrying around,

and Mama woke up feeling just a bit off kilter (yoga was interesting this morning). But in spite of the challenges, I completed a few things that required completion. I find I turn even more so to creating when times are rough, helps pull me through and gives me a focus.

These all came about in increments, a pattern piece drawn and cut here, a few minutes at the machine there, moments with needle in hand.

I find myself pretty happy with the end result...especially as they are going to a good cause. I mentioned in a previous post that a blog friend, Matthew at Childsplayx2 is having an online auction for his YMCA. You can read a bit of the background story here. He put out a request for donations to auction and my first thought was, of course, I will knit something. But I could not decide on a pattern, then I realized time was rapidly dwindling, so I turned instead to my sewing/embroidery skills, meager though they are.

The result is something I think I can be proud of. Two little bebe outfits, one boy, one girl, to be auctioned off separately. Sized to fit 6-12 months (I think).

The pants are made from stash fabric, some of my coveted Heather Ross and a little contrasting (clashing?) binding hem. The cotton is so so soft and light, perfect for warmer weather to come.

The onesie is the coup de grace though. My youngest brother Jon is an amazing artist and has a knack for character creation. The little monkey is named Fred and first debuted in a small childrens book Jon wrote and illustrated for his French class. I love Fred,

he is impishly cute and a little spacey and will steal your heart. Someday I am going to find a publisher for the booklet...if you could just see Fred with his bananas. Here he is depicted diapered and happy. So, thanks Jon, for lending us Fred for a spell.

The Friday finish was important as Matthew wants to have the auction up and running by February 16th. He plans on keeping it open for two weeks and I am excited to see what else shows up. The blogging community is so diverse with so many interests, so I am sure there will be a little something for everyone. I plan on posting a link in the sidebar once the auction is up, I will be sure to let you know.

I sent out another little love package earlier this week for a family. In it I included these toddler socks.

They are a simple sock pattern, ribbed leg and your basic heel flap/gusset construction. I used stash sock yarn, a bit of Cherry Tree for the leg and Koigu for the foot. I love how they remind me of Spring. Like a flower coming up.

I just used the boys mallet feet for reference, cast on 32ish I think and went from there. The boys hated them on, but I am holding out hope that the toddler on the other end might not be so averse to their wear. And if they really are intolerable for toddler feet, well, at least they are really pretty to look at. (Horrid indoor lighting on the pictures though. Does not do the color justice.)

Ah, Friday. I see a Valentine's of cough and snot and little romantic endeavoring. No worries, I never really took to the holiday itself. But I am planning on making some cupcakes, both for family and friends. I have a recipe from Orangette for a perfect white cake...oh, so delicious. And then SK posted these car bomb cupcakes that must be made because the husband loves Guinness, chocolate and cake (in that order). And the whiskey might burn the sick out. Right?

And by Sunday, when I gather with my knitting friends, with plans of (them) divesting stash yarn and (me) taking it all because they will be lulled by the sugar coma from the cupcakes...well, I will myself to be better because what better way to end a weekend?

I hope your Valentine weekend hearts you and leaves you sick with love and not the flu. Hugs, friends and happy V day.

Hello, morning.

A few weeks ago I made the decision to voluntarily wake at 5:30 a.m. Yes, yes, I did. Sounds crazy, right? The boys have finally found some satisfying form of sleep and there is no reason to rise at that ungodly hour. But I have been doing that twice a week. Why, you might ask? Because it is all about the endorphins.

I have always held to my yoga classes; given through my gym, but really quite good. I love the yoga and know it gives me balance and strength. Without it my back aches, my arms get heavy, I just do not feel centered. But one thing yoga does not give me is cardiovascular health. I do sweat in class, but it is not the same sweat as a heart pounding work out. And without the cardio, well, I do not see my waist getting any less present.

I decided to see what else the gym provides and found a spin class. You know, those crazy bike classes where an instructor takes you through an hour of various torturous circuits of riding accompanied by pounding music, all on a stationary bike. And the only time I was willing to give was the a.m. slot. The class at 5:45 a.m.

When I worked in L.A. many years ago I used to wake up at 5 every morning in order to catch the train and avoid any driving. I had forgotten what that time of day feels like...it is so quiet, you feel intimately close to the sky and the day. I live close enough to walk to the gym, so after dragging myself out of bed and a quick sip of coffee and a bite of granola, I head out. The mornings are lightening, but it is still dim and hushed and really quite beautiful.

The class is a killer. I barely make it through the hour and rarely can keep up with all the commands to stand, run, hover and walk on your bike. But the soundtrack of Coldplay and the Offspring and the feel of the heart racing does something to me. It wakes me up, gets me going in a way I have not felt in ages, it seems. It makes me dizzy and happy and excited. Excited to see change and to feel it. And on the walk home, I feel the endorphin surge and ride it all day long.

I am coming to cherish these mornings. The solitude of the walk, the camaraderie in class between the early risers, the peppy teacher that knows my name and the walk home, when I contemplate the day ahead.

When I get home, my Mama is up with coffee brewing, we set the table for breakfast as we are trying to establish family meals, I have a few minutes to read or finish paperwork or plan a project. It feels good to reconnect to the morning and I have a feeling I will be in this class for a long time to come. It may not have the adrenaline rush of a single track downhill trail, but it is helping so many things; my waist, my heart and my mind.

I plan on grabbing the camera to get a few dawn shots but it may take some time to remember it. I love the morning but that does not mean I wake functioning.


You did not think I would use a picture of myself, up at dawn, sans make up and dressed in god knows what apparel trying to get to class on time, did you? Those are the seed flats, ready to awaken to their new days. I am so excited about them, it is a bit ridiculous. Mmmm, beets and carrots and tomatoes and lettuce and....

Focusing for February

February feels like a month that I need to seek and find support and focus. It feels like I need to reach out and make and share and do. And it seems I am lining it up to be a month heavy with commitment, but good commitment. In ways that looks invigorating and inspiring and good. We need some good after the rough month of January.

It seems like February is our harbinger to Spring here, although we cannot claim to have had much winter. The first commitment we are making is our Slow Month pledge. This is a simple concept, that for one month we will not buy anything that is not needed for food/work. And that sounds simple, but I am curious to see how difficult we will find it. I anticipate a lot of down time as we will try to shop in a smart way for food, make and use up what exists in the pantry and find awesome free things to do with the boys.

We have already shifted into this mode in the last few months, but I mean to stay on track with the not buying.

Next up is the planning/planting of our food garden for the season. We always have some veg growing, but this year we will experiment with raised beds and lots of diverse planting. I ordered heirloom tomato seeds from a great site while on sale (in January) and plan on growing and canning what we harvest. This week the seeds go into flats, and then the weekend holds plans to set the beds. I am really excited and found a great community group called Food not Lawns that are committed to helping ordinary suburb folks convert their space to food production.

Shutter Sisters recently invited readers to participate in a project, the One Word project. I decided it was a good way to help me focus my camera and work to see the word manifest in my life. February is choose your own word and I have chosen to look for Awakening this month and will try to bring that to mind as I shoot.

I found a great Ravelry group holding a Vestuary event, the aim is to knit something in vest form to bring back the warm weather or at least, make one think about it coming back. I was inspired by the beautiful piece by Lolly and chose some stash yarn, knit a swatch and commenced the knitting yesterday.

I am looking forward to the yoke and the colorwork, there is something about a pattern developing in your hands that feels so very good.

And a good blog friend Matthew over at CHild's Play x2 had asked his readers to participate in a planned auction for his YMCA(check out that link for a peek at the prizes). He is director and they are feeling the crush of the economic changes in their programs. They offer services to those that may have less than us, but much more need. His plan is to auction off contributions from his readers. I offered to make up a few special hand made baby items then I felt a little small after realizing other people are offering cruises and other big prizes, but then decided Small is Beautiful and any bit helps.

I will keep you posted on the auction as it comes together.

And though this is not an arty shot in anyway, here is my first photo for the OWP.


These little bits all put up above the sewing table came down and are awakening serious desire to Make. And I think that is right where I will start this new month.

Along with a whole lot of this, as coloring has become the latest and greatest.


Anyone one have and want to trade an unneeded automatic pencil sharpener for a hand made pin cushion? I am not kidding, my hand aches from turning these things out and we are in a slow month. I will take any offers and send you a cute one of these...


and so begins the blog as barter place. Awesome.

A Sustainable Life

Just wanted to note that the images accompanying this post are from our weekend discovery of a local community farm project on the campus at the Claremont Colleges. And the mud home is a student project (I believe) and my dream home. I know, a mud hut, sounds weird, huh?

I have been thinking a bit about this year and the financial world that is coming down on us. NPR reports daily on the upheaval of our economy, our system, our lives. It has made me pause on a daily basis to think and evaluate what we as a family are doing in this upcoming year to prepare, or better say, brace ourselves for the immanent changes.


Since the day I got pregnant, and I mean literally, we have been on a single income with supplements from my occasional forays into work. We did not feel a huge impact when we 'lost' my income as we had scaled way back before I stopped working. Now, we also exist in a fairly unique situation as we live with not only multiple generations, but with multiple sources of incomes. We have a safety net that many do not live with, and that helps us through harder times and insures that there is always food on the table and a roof over our heads. Tim and I both make/made fairly modest incomes, enough to allow us to live without a lot of worries, but not to live with a lot of luxuries. I am starting to really appreciate what living moderately means, especially as we try to balance and make sense of what we should do as we watch our country's fabric shift and tear quite a bit.

Many years ago I read a book that changed my life. It is titled Ishmael and is the fable of a gorilla that has sat as anthropologist to human kind, observing, theorizing and then passing it on to a student who happens to be a human. It is not a book for everyone, but for me it crystallized almost everything I have felt as I grew up, but was unable to formulate. The 'story' is of our culture, our consumer culture...and of course, it's impact on the world. Like I said, not for everyone, but a lightening bolt for me. So, it changed a lot in our lives, Tim and I have used the story as a barometer of sorts. It is very relevant today as we go forward into what could be the biggest mess we have seen in our lives.


This is not a dire post, rather I mean it as a place to set down in writing what goals I have for myself and family as we try out a leaner way of life, a life with less and with more due to taking less. A life where we find personal sustainability that extends past buying 'organic' or leaving less of a footprint by bringing home products claiming to be good for the world. And the life is starting to look like it is mostly about bringing home less overall.

So, to start, things we are already doing:

1) Farmer's market : We have been going steadily for a year for both produce and companionship. We do not just buy, we speak to the people, get to know them a bit and give our favorite one man band a few dollars while the boys dance to his guitar/harmonica and marvel at his expertise. We are re-connecting with a community that I had forgotten existed. And our dollars go back to our area, our home.

2) Less packaging : I am almost at 100% with taking only what we buy out of stores, no bags, no extra baggies, less less less.

3) Buy used : The boys rarely have 'new' clothes or toys, we use the local children's resale and receive a lot from friends. I never turn away an offer of stuff, rather I go through it, sort and choose, and then regive/donate what we cannot use. I have never felt stigmatized by this, growing up with a 8 children household taught me the value of reuse.

4) Shop less : I curtail urges to go to Target for 'just one thing' or to browse the internet too often as I find the ease of clicking through to Paypal is just too too easy. Instead, we hit the park or the trail and I marvel at all that is there already.

Things I want to do:

1) This is big for me...I want to do a SLOW month. This is the pledge to avoid buying anything that is not essential for food/work. So, milk, yes. Joann's fabric bin, no.

2) Divorce myself from Joann's : Speaking of buying. I have to be honest and say though I broke up with Target, I struck up a relationship with Joann's with a vengeance. And buying fabric for clothes for us and the boys sounds so justified. Until I consider where the fabric came from and how it was made and it then looks as bad as the $1 polos I bought for the boys at the Old Navy sale. So, Joann, I love you but I think we have to break up too. Or at least take a break.

3) Use what we have : By this I mean crafting supplies stacked, paper piled, and jars/containers/bottles reused. I think of Tim's GPs that save everything. They are a product of the tail end of the Depression and remember when glass was precious, when plastic did not rule. I marveled the other day at our yogurt container, lid and all, thinking of how to re-use it.

4) Make more : Speaking of yogurt, I have a yogurt maker, yet to be used. So, things like that, making food, growing food, finding out what is seasonal, sustainable and delicious that we can grow in our backyard. And I want to get a pair of chicks for the yard, they would provide fresh eggs and be great insect eaters. As long as Mishka does not get them.


5) Save what we do not spend : Not spend what we save by doing the above. Tricksy, that part.

6) Educate myself regarding my local homeschooling community : I am becoming more and more convinced that I am going to pursue homeschooling the boys. It came up when I first had them, then I reconnected with a very dear person who invited me t see how she home schooled her youngest. And lest you think it cripples children, a majority of her circle have gone on to college, one is at NYU and currently performing on Broadway. At 20. So, I am weighing the options, wanting to know more, and getting really excited about it. This blog has some great insights into HS. You might read her a bit for her wit too.


So, these are not terrible concrete. It is not like I wrote down numbers and figures, these are guidelines for me and mine to try to follow as we walk with our fellow Americans that are trying to see what the light looks likes at the end of this tunnel. I think it looks totally different than any of us can even imagine.

I do not think this will be in any way easy for me, I know I am more plugged into consumption than I realize. But this is a great way to learn how to unplug. Won't you join me in some small way if you can? You could do the pledge of the Slow Month (or try), reuse or buy used, find your local farm/farm store.


And if you get a chance, pick up Ishmael. You might just like it and join us.