A Smaller Footprint

I just finished reading an article about the importance of reducing our carbon footprint. As the population of the world increases, the strain on resources grows greater. Are we in danger of collapsing under the weight of our own "progress"?

We are sometimes good environmentalists and sometimes, lazy environmentalists at our house.

The good:

• hot water heater seat on moderate (a genuine sacrifice as I prefer my shower hot enough to scald off a layer of skin) and cold water washing machine use.
• Lights off! Our house gets enough natural sunlight that we don't need to turn on any lights until it gets dark. Rob is great about going behind everyone and making sure we turn everything off, but that MIGHT be as much about money as saving the earth.
• Drying rack. I have not used my dryer AT ALL this week. If Bob the Wonder Dog wouldn't snatch the clothes of a clothes line, I'd love to install a one of those umbrella style outdoor racks. Our summer heat would have a load dry in no time!
  
• Recycling. The kids help sort the plastic, cans, paper etc. for the recycling center. We don't have curbside pick-up, but we live less than a mile from the recycling center. Our trash to recycling ratio is probably about 50% now.
  
• Keep the clunker going! Changing out cars frequently (even for more energy efficient ones) adds some size to the old footprint. We have managed to keep Rob's 1997 truck going with some mostly minor repairs and a little duct tape for the seats (how redneck is that)!
• Consolidating errands. Three days a week, I drop the kids off at school and just continue on to work instead of going back home and leaving for work an hour later. That saves 10 miles per trip or 30 miles per week. We combine errands so that we drop the kids off for one activity and do the grocery shopping while they are occupied for an hour (this is less stressful than shopping with two kids, so BONUS), which also saves a trip.

Struggles:

• Home Garden. A giant FAIL last time I attempted it. Trying to maintain an organic garden against the onslaught of bugs and weeds was more than I could do. I had every intention of attempting it again this year, but didn't get my act together in time. Thinking about doing an above ground container garden for tomatoes and okra on the back porch as a compromise. The Farmer's market is open on Saturday morning, but is the 14 mile round trip. Our grocery shopping is done on Sunday, so that adds to our gas total.
• Grocery store packaging. I find myself really frustrated with the grocery buying. I can manage to buy unpackaged fruit/veggies for the most part: bananas, cucumbers, tomatoes, cantaloupe (but not the blueberries or strawberries), but it seems that the bulk of what we buy is packaged and then packaged some more! Yogurt, cheese, crackers, tea bags, bread, meat.... all packaged and then shrink wrapped for good measure!
• Reusable shopping bags. This would seem to be the easiest thing of all... but I always forget the bags!
• Clothing. Trying to find locally made clothing is almost impossible! Every label I read says: "Vietnam" or "China" on it!
• You all know I ADORE my kindle. Is it really more sustainable to purchase ebooks than paper books? We have LOTS of things that plug in: ipad, kindle, PC, laptops... is the balance in raw materials vs. electricity usage really balanced? Abby absolutely loves to facetime with her friend Imogen in Australia! I doubt she is willing to give that up.
  

Drive

The weather is stunning right now. Bordering on too warm, but the heat is mitigated by the beauty of new leaves and the clean white of dogwood blossoms and pink, red, and white azaleas. Skies that look like they extend forever. Fields cleared and ready for planting. Everything is fresh.

New.

It makes me want to drive.

To obey that impulse to ignore the responsibilities of daily life... alarm clocks, laundry, dishes, meal times, schedules, phone, computer... to watch it, the eternal forward motion of life, grow smaller in the rear view mirror.

To tune it out with the blast of the ipod and the rush of wind over ears.

To let the sound of robins and the blue of the sky and the lazy float of clouds in front of the sun bleach life into a quiet shade of white and calm.

To be in a place where time is irrelevant and I can breathe and my energy is not pulled in a thousand different directions.

To just exist for a bit. To hear nothing but the pull of air in and the push out, the steady beat of my heart.

Not a possibility right now. Too many balls in the air that simply CANNOT come crashing down.

But... to borrow some of Sally Seltman's lyrics:

"Dreams, they come and go. This is one I've had forever I know. Been crossing my fingers and always hoping for it to come true... Got a dream that's become a friend and a reality!" Australia - 2014. We. are. there.

My Son Ate a Pancake

You are probably asking yourself why on earth the fact that my son ate a pancake merits an entire blog post. Kids are by nature picky eaters, of course. Did you know there is a biological reason behind that fact?

Curious toddlers tend to enter the "age of beige" eating stage around the same time they become completely independent in their mobility. Sticking to a diet based on beige foods helped them avoid potential poisonous plants (particularly brightly colored berries and poisonous leaves) that could kill them.

My son entered this stage and never exited. He disappeared down a culinary black hole that narrowed and narrowed and narrowed until his dietary staples could be counted on two hands. Some parents debate whether apple slices dipped into sweet caramel sauce is a healthy food choice. I dream of J.T. eating apple slices dipped in caramel sauce. The current extent of his food choices includes: cheese, crackers, whole grain bread, yogurt, V-8 fusion, ketchup, mustard, pizza, fish sticks, chicken, cookies, and plain chocolate. That is it. All of it.

Yes, I have tried insisting that he eat what is put on his plate. I have made him try blueberries, apples, bananas, salad, broccoli, carrots, green beans, and tomatoes. "Just ONE bite!" I have pleaded. These efforts end with him throwing up and me throwing up my hands in frustration. It isn't that he finds the flavors that objectionable, it is the textures he can't stomach. Even toast has to be at just the right level of "toastiness" or it is, er, toast.

Yesterday, as I made the grocery list, I spoke very frankly with J.T. about the importance of a healthy diet. We do have a history of heart attacks in our family. My brother died at 41. My father had a heart attack at 68. My grandfather (a very slim, fit man) had one at the same age. Eating less junk and replacing that junk with vegetables and fruits is really, really important. He agreed to try something different. Apples (with caramel sauce) was one choice, the other was pancakes. At this point, trying ANYTHING new is a plus, so I agreed.

Tonight, we had pancakes for supper. And the kid who only eats grilled cheese or fish sticks or some other variation, ate a whole pancake. I'm sure it is a ho-hum event in most households, and I would truly prefer that it had been an apple slice and not another "beige" food like a pancake, but the fact that he tried something new and liked it, is a big deal around here. It has not happened in a long, long time. It gives me hope.

P.S. We are consulting with his doctor to figure out if speaking with a counselor might help him. There is not enough space here to detail the YEARS of efforts and conversations we have had on this subject, but suffice it to say it is the number one cause of stress in my life right now.

A Runaway Train

Was it only two short months ago that I had a plan? A plan to get everything TOGETHER this year?

The Plan has been scrapped in favor of winging it. I think I knew that's what would happen all along anyway. Best laid plans and what not.

Busy doesn't describe this household lately. Runaway train experiencing a brake failure on an extreme downhill grade would work. I'm tempted to pull the emergency brake and bring it to a screeching halt. But I feel in my bones we'd just end up flattened by the cars behind us. The dance lessons to guitar practice to horseback riding lessons hopping continues with bits of homework, illness and late night work projects thrown in for balance.

Today I had to stop and really think about what day of the week it was. I can't decide if I'm running behind or thinking ahead or simply confused. All the grand ideas for the new year have been melted in the acid of reality, of all the obligations and events and.... life. Just life.

Abby has been asked to be the flower girl in my niece's wedding in April. We managed to find time to do this today:



One more thing off the checklist. And isn't it a beautiful thing?

Now this weekend (come to me my love), there will be relaxing. Wine, reading and sleeping until I wake up without alarm bells ringing in my ear. The train gliding to a halt for a bit.

Rekindled

I confess that I might be in love with my Kindle Fire.

A little TOO in love with it.... as I spend quite a bit of time either reading, catching up on Facebook (see what you are missing Aunty E.), and ahem, playing Angry Birds and Plants vs. Zombies. ( WHY is lobbing birds/plants at bad guys so addicting)? I've decided I'm a glutton for punishment as a certain fellow blogger keeps kicking my butt at Words with Friends. Just when I think I'm at least in a game, she plays a 70-point word!

The downside might be too much "wasted" time, but the upside is more reading! I can't put my finger on exactly why, but the Kindle has increased my reading pace tremendously. Maybe it is the easy access of having a virtual library that I can toss in my bag in the morning, then pull it out and pick the book that suits me while I'm waiting for guitar/dance/horseback riding to finish, so that I'm reading at times and in places I have not been? Finally finishing up The Hunger Games trilogy, re-reading some favorites and getting new recommendations (Bereft and To Be Sung Underwater) thanks to Mary's brilliant idea to start a "Recent Reads" group on FB. I don't have the time or money to waste on mediocre books, so having a recommendation list is wonderful.

As much as I truly, deeply, for always and ever love my Kindle, I am discovering that I need to limit my use. Too much intake and not enough output. Hopefully I can maintain the reading renaissance and back off of the more mindless entertainments available in this tiny rectangle of happiness. I really would like to return to more regular blogging and blog reading, gardening, etc.

But in the meantime, did I mention that Kindle and I are madly in love?

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

You know it's time for a facial wax when you glance in the rearview mirror and wonder for just a second why, when you aren't driving a red ferrari, Magnum P.I. is behind the wheel of your car. Brow/upper lip maintenance needed. Yuck head cold equals sleepless nights equals dark shadows that don't at all look like the "smoky eye" I'm trying to pull off. I just look tired and sick. But even when Mom is down, life goes on.

The boy, who has turned 11 this week, has decided that he doesn't want the annual birthday party EVENT (okay it's hotdogs, chips, fruit, cake and ice cream and lots of running around staging sword fights boy mayhem). Instead he would like a trip to Savannah to visit the toy store. At the ripe old age of 11, he has never been to a store that exclusively sells toys. But can I just say that I'm a bit lost not preparing for the usual party festivities? It was also my opportunity for grown up conversation with my favorite fellow moms of children of a like age and now I have to wait at least another month before one of our favorite families invites us to their child's party before I can indulge in mom chat.

I like to think I'm coping well with the fact that my oldest child is becoming a tweenager and that my youngest is seven going on seventeen. I confess that while I've had to let go of the smocked dresses with bloomers, the Thomas the Tank Engine trains have been packed away and Dora yogurt is no longer on my grocery list, there is one thing I've struggled to leave behind. Those sweet little baby washcloths are still in the basket next to their tub. They've been washed so many times they aren't much more substantial than tissue paper, but I still can't bring myself to throw them out. I've rationalized that they are the perfect size for getting behind small ears and between toes, but I know I'm in denial. As long as those worn little scraps sit in that basket, my babies they will be.

Nose-talgia?

A little boy who was in Abby's class suffered a severe brain injury last month. He is on the road to recovery. One of the therapies they are using with him is to introduce familiar smells to stimulate brain activity. Smell is closely tied to memory. Few things can stimulate recall like familiar scents.

Several weeks ago I attended a parent-teacher conference at school. The smell of chicken and hot dish soap instantly conjured images of orange lunch trays, cardboard milk cartons and lunch ladies garbed in plastic aprons, gloves and hairnets. I can see myself standing in line, waiting for tired women to slap a spoonful of chicken and dumplings, overcooked green beans, a brilliant orange yam and a slice of peanut butter cake on my tray. It seems like no matter what is being prepared in the lunchroom, it always smells like chicken to me!

A whiff of honeysuckle in late May and I am riding my bike, barefoot, around the block... drawn by the sweet smell to stop, pick a few flowers and collect the drops of "honey" clinging to the ends of the stems. I can feel the warm breeze, hear the whine of mosquitos and taste the dewy sweetness as clearly as if I had climbed into a time machine and whisked back through the decades to a spring day in 1985.

The scent of Irish Spring soap reminds of baths in the claw-footed tub at Grandmother Hall's. The gleam of sunlight through homemade curtains, the feel of the bristles of a nail brush under my nails, the creak of floorboards as Grandmother brought in a fresh towel and a bottle of Jergen's lotion for after the bath.

Chimney smoke wafts by and I can see my dad adding another piece of wood to the wood burning heater while my mother sits so close to the warmth she is almost IN the fireplace, reading a book. A patchwork blanket wrapped over her and her glasses perched either on her nose or on top of her head. The squeaks of the rocking chair as she rocks and reads. Oblivious to anything outside the pages of that book. The warmth, the noises, the images are so vivid they are almost touchable. As clear as a photograph.

So perhaps nostalgia is all in the nose?