Saturday Stuff-It Chronicles: "Always Fresh, Always..."

Please join me every Saturday for a discussion on "stuff"...

 

 

"'Disposable cups respresent the essence of an over consumptive society: an obsession with convenience'" (Alsop, 2004 in Ziada, 2009)

 

As I sit at our ancient, crash-happy computer, I wonder: about what shall I pen today?  Usually the ideas tackle themselves in my head as Saturday approaches but this week...well, the fact that I have made it through endless hours of work, endless hours of meetings, and endless hours of volunteering (all done with a smile on my face and in  my heart, in case I sound bitter!) with sanity let alone one prevailing idea with any worth (about obtaining sleep of course) is commendable of something.

 

About what shall I write?

 

Staring at the blank screen, I turn to my steaming mug of coffee to which I have recently allowed myself to become re-addicted.  Only it is not a mug.  Nothing "china" about it (well, except for perhaps where it was manufactured)...it's a soilish-coloured cup with a lip-ripping plastic lid.

 

According to Hanna Ziada's 2009 study (msep.mcmaster.ca) one million paper coffee cups, which are not recyclable, are sent to Toronto landfills every single day.  Estimates are that 16 billion paper cups make it to U.S. garbage dumps annually.

 

So what can we do about this? 

Ziada points out that most studies concentrate on recycling rather than on consumption and habit changes.  (Heard of "PlantBottle"?  Think ketchup and other Coca Cola products.  They actually can't be composted; "they have the identical chemical structure of plastic made from oil, and therefore should be recycled right along with petro-derived plastic"  Mary Catherine O'Connor http://www.earthisland.org/journal/index.php/eij/article/breaking_down_bioplastics/)


(A paper coffee cup after 33 days in a compost bucket - the paper has biodegraded but the plastic liner remains.  It will never break down.)
http://www.redwormcomposting.com/worm-composting/coffee-cup-challenge-day-33/

So how can we (slash big "I") make a change in habit?

If I choose not to currently tackle my caffeine problem perhaps the least I can do is to bring a re-useable mug with me.  Plus most coffee shops offer a slight discount - even if it seems teeny, after about a month of discounted daily cups you'd get one on-the-house!  (Which annually adds up to about 6 movie rentals or two bottles of wine or about 19L of gas for your vehicle.)

Even better: brew it at home.  Especially if it has a re-useable mesh filter.  (And your coffee grounds are great for the compost or even in chocolate cakes as you know if you read last week's "Munchy Monday"!?)

Originally I asked, "of what shall I write?" but now need to ask, "of what shall I change?"  My computer will continue to crash and my weeks will continue to be full but the least I can do is have that steaming mug of pleasure-filled coffee in an actual, re-useable mug!

Absolutely Amazing

Absolutely amazing...how else can I describe the everyday miracles that occur in our lives?



Just when I had been thinking, "geesh, I really do need a new t-shirt or two since my two from the summer are pretty battered, tattered, and somewhat stained and some long sleeve shirts might be a good thing to have with this ever-increasing chill"...just as I was thinking it and voila...I arrived home yesterday to a bag of women's tops shoved between my two doors.

And they all fit perfectly.



Nearing mid-summer when our son had grown to the point that his pants, with their massive holes out of the knee area, looked similar to metrosexual capris (not so popular in rural areas, I must add) I began dreading the idea of pouring out cash for new apparel.  Due to endless pass-on-clothing blessings from many friends, family, and strangers, there may have been two pieces of clothing that we have ever purchased for our son.  However, at this stage and age, hand-me-downs prove harder to obtain.  We didn't have to hit the secondhand shops, Value Village or those (breathless gasp) consumerist traps called malls.  Two garbage bags, laden with pants, long sleeve shirts, sweatshirts and hoodies in his size, anonymously arrived, again, at our doorstep.

Wow.  How can we not sing praise for the endless, everyday miracles?

2 Cor 9:8  New Living Translation (©2007) And God will generously provide all you need. Then you will always have everything you need and plenty left over to share with others.

I could've been ungrateful BUT...

Seeing lots of gratitude lists in a variety of others' blogs always brings a cheesy grin to my face. Life could be miserable or it could be filled with blessings that ease their way, almost unnoticed, into our plain ole everyday every days.

However, as I was pondering my morning I laughingly thought, "I could just make an ungrateful list" - not because my morning has been so out-of-synch with comfortable, happy little expectations or complete chaos that brought me to tears, shrieking, or quiet insolence.  It was more of a spiteful consideration?  I'm not sure exactly what it was but it was there.  And then the "but" appeared...that but that sometimes we love to loathe and sometimes we love to love.

I could've been ungrateful BUT...

I could've been ungrateful that our children, in playful gestures, grabbed at one another during our walk across the highway to school and managed to tumble both into a crying, screaming-in-'agony' heap right on the yellow line BUT...no one was mutilated or even maimed by passing traffic due to the presence of a very capable crossing guard, no one was seriously mangled beyond bright purple elbow bruises, and I didn't even freak out.

I could've been ungrateful that a little bug body tumbled out of my cinnamon scone this morning BUT instead was just plain glad to have been able to afford such decadence, also contented that I didn't have any notions of vomiting and still was able to finish this yummy, yummy treat, and secure in the knowledge that in many other countries fibre-filled bugs are regularly on the menu.

I could've been ungrateful that my hubby is on the road with his job today and therefore couldn't share lunchtime with me on my only day off this week BUT I ate whatever I wanted (ham on bun and my homemade soup) in complete silence, thankful that both of us have employment and that we don't have to worry this month about how the lights will stay on or how a near-empty fridge might keep running.

I could've been ungrateful that I have had to wash the bed sheets from a certain child yet again BUT I am simply grateful to be blessed with children and with the fact that not only do we have our own washing machine but that daily sheet laundering saves on landfill disposal space and diaper costs!

That BUT strikes again...feverishly morphing ungrateful thoughts into pleasant, thankful ones of those blessings all around us.

But, but, but...

What "but"s have you had in your day???

Munchy Monday: Soup-y Surprise

Please join me every Monday for discussions about food...



"What is it?" asked our son, eyeing up the gigantic pot I had simmering on the stove top.

"Soup," I offhandedly replied as I chopped something else to add.

"Yum yum!"  He responded, although I am not quite certain why because although he will eat nearly everything presented to him soup would not be his ultimate choice, or even in his top ten, of food items, and yet sarcasm is still alien to him.

Still on the soup kick I have been uncovering even more edible parts of food that would otherwise go to waste.

I knew that cauliflower stems taste just as tender when cooked as do the "tree-ish" florets but the leaves?  A lot like cabbage they work well in soups, coleslaw, and grated into salad.

Carrot, celery, and fennel tops.  Radish and pea greens.  Banana peels can be finely diced and put into cakes or made into homemade vinegar and coffee grounds can be used to tenderize meat or to flavour chocolate cakes.  Watermelon peels, cubed, can be part of your soup. (okay, not the "peel peel" part but the whitish rind part.)   Waste Not, Want Not: Stop Throwing Away Your Food (Andrea Karimon)

And those day lilies that festively hold their cantaloupe-coloured heads up so high, and have no problem appropriating lawns and gardens?  All parts of them are edible!  Deborah Aldridge, a Southern woman who loves the garden almost as much as her kitchen, advises to "chop up some of the spicy-flavored leaves into a salad. When you're thinning them, pick off a few roots to chop and add a crispy crunch to any dish. Fresh or faded blossoms can be eaten too, as well as the bloom stems, but they're sort of tough and stringy." http://contributor.yahoo.com/user/265859/deborah_aldridge.html

Who knew of all these possibilities?  Items that would otherwise be tossed to our one remaining guinea pig friend or chucked into the compost have an even greater purpose! 

And it's truly not simply a matter of stingy food conservation (although that definitely plays apart), but also of environmental protection.  If we use less, and cultivate our ground more effectively and without nasty chemicals to grow plants of which we intelligently use every morsel possible, we save us, our pocketbooks, and the planet.

"People in Slow Food understand that food is an environmental issue."  Michael Pollen

"What is it?" you may ask when eyeing up my gigantic soup pot simmering on the stove.

"A wonderful soup-y surprise!"

Confessions of a Late Night Junky Book Junkie

A really, really dumb choice was made by me last night: one I haven't made for awhile (and in surviving this day I know exactly why not)...I stayed up until 3am reading a book.

And it wasn't even a book worthy of dark below-the-eye hollows and cranky outbursts and dragging-myself-around-like-a-bag-of-sand sentiments.

It neared...gasp...the crap found in harlequins.  (Yes, I actually took a university course in which we had to read harlequins, as well as westerns and mysteries.  Called "Jane, Dick, and Cowboys" the title allured me - as well the syllabus that, after eyeballing, seemed to promise a few "easy credits".)

It was crap.  Crap, crap, crap.  And yet I devoured it, lost many hours of sleep, and donated precious amounts of irretrievable time to a mind-wasting activity that, admittedly, momentarily gave some pleasure.

There.  I said it.

Why did I keep reading when pervasive thoughts of "yeah, right...as if this would ever happen...and why would I want it to anyway?  Does she really think he will be Mr. Romance for the entirety of their existences?  What planet did she come from?  How did he ever make it into this universe?  Why do women eat up this obviously ridiculous crap?"???

And why do I feel so darn guilty?  Well, I know the answer to that: because it was a dumb, dumb thing to do.  What eternal value did this activity have?

There.  I said it.

Crap, crap, crap.

Lesson learned.  No more late nights of junky book reading.  (Or at the very least could I read something worthy of the accompanying sleep deprivation?)

Saturday Stuff-It Chronicle: Happy Birthday, Garbage!

Please join me every Saturday for discussions on “stuff”…



We had a fifth birthday in our home this week...and along with the disbelief that our baby is 1825 days old comes the yearly disbelief of how much birthday aftermaths seem to be most commonly associated with garbage...

Despite our more-than-annual request for either no gifts or options of "experiences" (take her to the museum, the park, a picnic!) or re-furbished presents from secondhand stores (or their own basements) streams of toys made in China that break the next day rapidly flow...

Birthday cards abound and we drown in non-recyclable wrapping paper...
What about a gift bag; at the very least they, along with the tissue paper, can be re-used? 
Or newsprint?
Magazines?
Scrap paper on which you've painted? 
A t-shirt?  A scarf?  A clean sock?
An old map?  
A piece of fabric?   
A no-longer-needed pillowcase whose partner bedsheets have frayed and ripped and subsequently found a new home as rags?

On the actual day of our daughter's birthday she had a few friends over for a very casual "playdate".  One outright asked, "what's in the bag we get to take home?"  "Nothing," I promptly replied, and then said something I probably shouldn't have to five year olds: "Since we think they're a waste of money and people don't really need to take home all those dollar store goodies, we choose not to give any out."

Where did the whole idea of loot bags come from, anyways?  I have to admit it was a very creative marketing idea in promoting even greater consumerism...

It's rarely difficult to tell where I stand on matters, now, is it?  What I really desire is not merely to whine but rather to offer alternatives...perhaps striving to present the flipside, a postulation so different that even momentarily someone might think, "hey...there IS another way to do this, think of this, live this..."

How could we as North Americans, as individuals passionate about our earth, our eco-green-ness, our rapidly-emptying pocketbooks, our just-as-rapidly emptying values and just-as-rapidly increasing greed, make changes to mirror our beliefs?

How can we "do birthdays" differently?



Gillian Deacon, in her book Green For Life 200 Simple Eco-Ideas for Every Day, asks "Is it just me, or have you noticed that kids' birthday parties are taking on an insane level of fuss and indulgence?...At what point did the child's birthday party become and exercise in keeping up with the Jones and overconsumption?" (p.189)

Her suggestions?
Invitations  Avoid store-bought ones and create your own, or better yet, email
Decorations  One banner and/or tablecloth can be re-used many, many times for all          members of the family; avoid paper plates, etc and wash wash wash...
Cakes  Maker your own: homemade can be a part of the tradition ("they get to choose the design and lick the beaters!")
Candles  Light them with matchsticks and not disposable lighters
Gifts  Check out Patrick McDonnell's The Gift of Nothing; use the birthday as a learning opportunity to re-route those greedy little consumerists to more charitable acts (cans for the local food drive for example?)
Loot Bags If you absolutely insist on giving something to those attending why not homemade cookies?  A packet of seeds and a trowel?  Old books that no one in the house is reading any longer?  A custom-made CD of the birthday child's favourite songs?

"I can't understand why people are frightened of new ideas.  I'm frightened of the old ones."  John Cage

Why?  Well, why not?  Isn't diversion of landfill "crap" that lead to, in purely simple terms, a much prettier earth, a much happier birthday gift to us all anyways?

The Garbage Pickers

What does a bicycle frame, several hundred cigarette butts, 44 straws, 3 bags of dog feces, 2 condoms, and a baby bathtub have in common???? 

We found them all at the Great Canadian Shoreline Cleanup on Sunday morning…

 http://www.shorelinecleanup.ca/

After our 10km Terry Fox bike ride we headed to the park to assist with mess removal.  Sadly there was a lot.  “Mostly food wrappers,” as our son would respond to people asking what we found.  And coffee cups and tobacco packaging and a lonely tree-shaped car deodorizer.

We bent over, picked up, charted, carried on…bent over, picked up, charted…you get the picture…At the beginning the kids were enthused with the ‘grabbers’ (“like what Grandpa had to use when he has his new hips put in,” they exclaimed in excitement before the brew-ha-ha broke out over who would get to use “the claw” and for how long) and so little bending was required.  Soon the enthusiasm waned.  After all: there were lots and lots and LOTS of brightly hued frogs hopping frantically all over the place.  (I imagine them thinking solely, “get me out of here!!!”  The frogs, that is, although after an hour and a half the same could be said for our progeny.)

Thankfully the sun shone, Daphne kayaked about the Saugeen, hauling in odd bits of garbage thoughtlessly dumped, and a dozen of us hiked the park, trails, and shoreline in our quest to collect junk.

“We shouldn’t have to pick up garbage!” almost-shouted a woman earlier in the week who stopped in to the store simply to voice her stewed-up opinion that education was badly needed in order to stop this vandalism of our planet.  Yes, yes, Ruth and I fully agree.  But someone has to be responsible nonetheless for stewardship of our planet…so we don gloves and pick up crap (sometimes literally) we did…

And it felt good.  It really, really did.

The planet benefits.  And so do we.

So go ahead and pick up that floating-around-the-sidewalk-in-frantic-circular-motions empty coffee cup or chocolate bar wrapper…

Lev. 25:23-24. The land is mine and you are but aliens and my tenants. Throughout the country that you hold as a possession, you must provide for the redemption of the land.

 

Munchy Monday 2: (when we) Waste Not (others) Want Not

Please join me every Monday for “Munchy Mondays” food talk…

“When something’s priced too cheap, it is often wasted.  And so it is with food in the Global North.”  (p.177, Wayne Roberts in The No-Nonsense Guide to World Food)

It horrified me to discover that every single day 5,000 children around the world die from diseases brought on by hunger (Roberts, 2008).  That’s about the number of people in the town of Mount Forest where we live…every single day. 

And here in Canada we waste food.  A lot of food.  When I read Aritha Van Herk’s piece in the University of Alberta alumni magazine “new trail” I was again shocked to understand that we annually waste enough per person for an entire other person to eat for that same amount of time!  A whole other person!  Half of my four-person family’s waste could feed the other two.

In his May 13, 2011 article on CNN entitled “World Wastes 30% of all Food” CNN Asia Business Analyst, Ramy Inocencio, explained that “we find the people with the most money are the ones who waste the most”.  Sadly we North Americans, along with our Global North European comrades, fit into this category.  “Per capita, Europeans and North Americans waste between 95 and 115 kilograms of food. Sub-Saharan Africa, South Asia and Southeast Asia waste much, much less – between 6 and 11 kilograms per person. The takeaway? The developed world wastes 10 times more food than the developing one.”

So instead of just sitting in a corner, creating and ballooning stress and depression enough to grab ahold of some calorie-laden cake and scarf it all down, what about some ways in which we can improve and remove some of this waste?

I decided to start with soup.

Why soup?

“For those who think soup is the equivalent of opening a tin of Campbell’s, a greater truth speaks.  Soup is a potential counter-measure to our carelessness about sustainability, our terrible addiction to plenty, our expectation that food will always be readily available and that we will enjoy choice and variety, affordability and access” (p.9). 

http://issuu.com/ualbertaalumni/docs/ntissuuautumn2012hires

In soup can be used all sorts of 'odds and sods' that normally would be discarded - carrot greens, broccoli stems, potato peels, cauliflower leaves...

Plus I adore soup…the creativity in flavouring it, adding bits of this and bits of that…and besides, I had a church potluck supper shower for which to prepare…

So of course I went to allrecipes.com and of course I used this as only a measly template for my culinary creation.  I started with this…

Sausage Soup

By: Behr
Ingredients

1 pound Italian sausage

2 onions, chopped
1 (28 ounce) can whole peeled tomatoes with juice
6 cups chicken broth
2 teaspoons dried basil
2 cups bow tie pasta
1/2 teaspoon garlic salt
1 cup chopped celery
1 cup chopped carrots
1 1/2 cups shredded cabbage
Directions
In a soup pot, cook sausage over medium heat until no pink remains.
Add onions, celery, and carrots. Cook uncovered for 5 minutes, or until onions are soft.
Add tomatoes, chicken broth, cabbage, and basil. Bring to a boil. Stir in macaroni, and cover. Simmer for 10 minutes, or until pasta is tender. Season with garlic salt. Serve.

And here’s where Aritha would be proud…

Sausages:  purchased really, really cheap because their expiry date was, um, yesterday…
Tomatoes:  Fresh from the garden I had already ingested in the short trip from garden to kitchen about half of the cherry ones I had nonchalantly grabbed with bare hands and t-shirt-cum-apron
Chicken broth: some from a box (gasp), some of it homemade
Spices: Epicure of course and all sorts of variety (pot herbs primarily if I recall correctly)
Pasta: oops, none in the cupboard so, voila, barley sufficed
Veggies: carrots, celery, and then I loaded it up with finely-chopped broccoli stem (that would otherwise be fed to the guinea pig or thrown into the compost), spinach about to take on that wilty-wet look, and chunks of big, fat squash that has grown plentifully out of our compost “box” (and I was tempted to cook up some of the leaves but I didn’t have enough time – apparently they take a lonnnngggg time to ready for soup useage).

It wasn’t all that difficult to use the broccoli end (and once cooked it tasted as juicy as the rest of the broccoli “tree”) or to grab some spinach about to be compost-friendly or to chop and chuck squash…And it didn't take all that long (I think we arrived home about 4:30 and I had to be at the church for 6, with numerous hordes of needy children, my own and others, in between)...

Result: yummy (and it was not solely me who enjoyed the flavour)…

And then, after the shower supper’s conclusion, I, along with the others in the kitchen cleaning up, dumped all the leftovers from the meal into my soup pot in preparation for the next big mystery soup production…

 

Waste not want not...and enjoy in the meantime!

Please join me on future Mondays for more on what bits of food we chuck that we could be using/eating, as well as answers to why food is so cheap here (is it really?) and the aftermath consequences.

Sat Stuff-It Chronicles # 4 Lurking Anxiety

Please join me every Saturday for discussions on “stuff”…

“When did we decide that more and bigger stuff would give us a better life?  When was the last time a busy calendar gave anyone more serenity?  Do we really get more joy from worrying about, rearranging, and dusting our things than we do from visiting with a friend in an intimate way?”  Janet Luhrs in The Simple Living Guide

On the way home from a birthday party earlier this afternoon we decided to stop by a relative’s place whose condo complex was having their annual mega-garage sale for a local charity.  It was “closing time” and these penny-pinchers, previously molded comfortably into their lawn chairs, descended on us like desperate snakes on a pack of rotund rats.

 “Everything’s half-price,” was practically being sung as we eyed what leftovers remained on the giant tables.

“Look at this….” stated our relative, one hand on some unneeded trinket she planned to buy and another caressing the object in question: a solid roasting pan.  “Feel how heavy it is…And only $2.50.  I thought of you when I saw this.”

 “Very nice,” I tried to be diplomatic.

 “You should get it.  Only $2.50.”

“But I don’t need it,” I firmly defended myself.

“But it’s only two dollars and fifty cents!”  Her voice betrayed her kind smile; she was obviously annoyed with me.  Why would I NOT want something of such quality that was so inexpensive? “What a bargain!”

“It’s only a bargain if you need it.”

Somewhat playfully she bashed her trinket against me and emitted a nasal “ppp-shawww”.  She doesn’t get me. 

This same relative shared with me a few weeks ago that though she would love to have people over for a fun evening of card-playing she worries so much about her home, what they would think of it, and whether she would be the “perfect hostess” that she actually brings herself to a frenzied state of illness and vomiting.  And that is just thinking about making such plans.

How have we allowed ourselves to become so obsessed with our “stuff” that it takes precedence over relationships and good times?

Jack Zavada, a Christian writer, asks us to answer the following questions in order to determine whether we have a problem with “stuff”.  So…go for it…

• Does your car fit in your garage or is there too much stuff in the way?
• Do your shoes and clothes fit in one closet, or do they fill up three?
• Do you need to have two yard sales each year?
• Do you have a hard time getting rid of something, even if you haven't used it in five years?
• Do you rent a storage unit for the things that don't fit in your house?
• Is your attic full of boxes but you don't even know what's in them?

So…How did you do? Need a garage sale or two?  What about a –box-a-day clear-up from your home to a local re-sale or charity store?

We (only we because I think my hubby wanted to be a part of what exactly was being re-homed) spent about an hour after our yard sale adventure in our own garage chucking some things we haven’t used in the four years since we have lived here.  Some to the dumpster still here from our re-roofing project, and some set aside for the “free sale” we have a couple of times every year at our church.  There’s a sense of freedom that comes with letting go…

A freedom I hope you, too, can experience!  So..recycle away…you might just be able to make a huge bundle of cash by selling a roasting pan for $2.50…just not to me!

 

 

 

Queen of Contradictions?

As is probably obvious from my blog posts I am a believer in transparency.  Now I do not mean this as advocating for city-dwelling naturalists and big bay windows...it's purpose is honesty.

"Oh, yeah...I did that once..." I may hear in response to sharing of something (often silly or outright stupid) that I have done or learned, and then I don't feel quite so alone.  That I am not the only human on earth, for example, who has senselessly sprayed dirty cloth diapers with a garden hose (and experienced the "splash effect")...or other dumber things with dirtier consequences...

I must, then, also admit to contradictions brewing within...sometimes very obvious ones.

"'Do I contradict myself?' Walt Whitman wrote. 'Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes)'" p.145 beachcombing at miramar



Does this make me a hypocrite?

I advocate fresh, garden-grown food and yet I work at a Canadian retailer that markets processed, boxed food.

I advocate getting rid of stuff and yet I live in what is probably a 1200 square foot home with a massive backyard and a blow-up pool brimming with chemical soup.




Does this make me a hypocrite?

I love how Hila Shachar  explains it in her blog Le Projet D'Amour: "I probably do contradict myself, just like every other human being on the planet. I’ve probably contradicted myself on this blog – so what? If that invalidates everything I have to say, then I plead guilty of being human. We’re not static beings, our ideas and perspectives change as we grow older and our life changes. Does that signal some hypocrisy, some form of betrayal of who we are? Not in the least. I am curious though why contradiction is perceived so suspiciously all the time. Granted, I understand how it can be a form of hypocrisy. But there are other forms of contradiction that are not based in hypocrisy, but simply express our three-dimensionality as human beings."

 http://hila-lumiere.blogspot.ca

Static schmatic.  So here I admit, in all my transparency, (and stare in my window all you like - this gal adores her pyjamas) that I contain multitudes...

Haycock Disclosure (accompanied by The Secret Pig Caper)

Ever wondered something, seemingly insignificant enough to temporarily forget about, and later discovered the answer, the reason????

While reading Heiney's The Practical Homestead which of course allows for further dreaming of the chickens that really should be residing in our backyard, I uncovered  a much earlier curiosity of phallus-shaped haystacks dotting Slovakian fields. 

An "excerpt" from Eastern European backpacking memoirs...

THURS JULY 12, 2001 Later, on train to Krakow

The Polish side of the Tatras is much more dramatic than the Slovakian.  Patchwork fields in a variety of shades of green quilt the rolling hills.  Seven foot high hay phalluses are symmetrically  rowed in pastures beside triangular wooden homes (many with barns attached right to their house).  Buildings on the hills (as opposed to the town-laden valleys of Slovakian territory since Tatras on that side of the border were more severe and mountainous).  5 zloty from the border to Zakopane (about 20 km) and 10 zloty ($4) to Krakow (107 km, supposedly two and a half hours to our destination).

 Today

Aha!  There is a reason for these hay penises!  Paul Heiney’s The Practical Homestead (London: DK, 2010) enlightens me as to hay tripods, officially known as “haycocks”.  In unfathomably unpredictable weather these 6 foot tall reproductive-organ-looking towers prove miraculous.  Air circulates through the virtually-empty core and after about two days the arid hay is ready.  Or, for the busy farmer with little time to spare, the hay can even remain on these structures, left in the fields, until winter.

Oh, and now, thanks to Heiney, my future fancies for entanglement with animal husbandry include not only poultry but also a pig.  Because what better recommendation is there to prepare soil for a zealous garden plot than a summer of a pig's rooting and pooping?  Somehow I'm not sure neighbours would be too keen on an oinking backyard lodger?  Though perhaps if they were gifted a nice, fat chunk of ham at season's end?

The Secret Pig Caper?

R.I.P Alfie

After returning home from dropping kids at school and a luxurious coffee break with friends (at a funky coffee shop, the only one of its kind in this small town, that rumour claims is about to be closed) I was greeted by the guys working on our roof.  Sitting down for a brief ciggie break one of them looked somewhat forlorn upon eyeing me sauntering up the driveway.

"Ummm..." he said between drags, "I poked your guinea pig and it's not moving.  I poked it a few times.  Pretty sure that thing is a goner."

"He could be sleeping," I suggested, as sometimes when the guinea pigs snooze their angled clumps of fur appear sinister and lifeless.

"Nope, don't think so," he assured me.  "Poked it lots and pretty sure that guy's a goner."

Having spent the last couple of days once more in their outdoor habitat (after a few forgotten mishaps of them left to fend for themselves in Jeff's outdoor wood and mesh  "contraption" during a thunderstorm that left pools deep enough for them to swim in several spots of the "cage") they had last been observed feasting on fresh grass.



No more feasting for Cocoa...grass blades framed his considerably stiff body with its wide, glassy eyes staring off in that odd, empty way that accompanies death.  His pal Pinkie (named so due to violet red eyes which make him look as though he continually suffers from pink eye) nudged him, sadly, as though completely confused by this uncommon prostate stance.

Nicknamed "Alf" first by my sister-in-law because his hair, the same shade as this alien TV creature, Cocoa had so many cowlicks that they tightly sprang and romped his coiffure in every direction.  Cute.  And still cute even when wrapped in an old beach towel awaiting the kids' return home for a probable burial.

Our first pet burial.

I wonder how they will take it?  Being fairly impartial myself (I would be a mess if it was our cat-who-thinks-he's-a-dog Addy but I am inexplicably less attached to these fellows) I don't know what questions will arise.

What if they ask if he's gone to heaven?  DO animals go to heaven?

I know that our miscarried children will be there waiting (many scriptures to support this - a great book for explanation and support is John MacArthur's Safe in the arms of God) but what about our pets?

According to Jack Wellman on the site "What Christians Want to Know" the answer is yes.  A couple of the scriptures he offers are from Ecclesiastes and Luke.  I guess we will only truly find out the answer when we get there...

Ecclesiastes 3:18-21: ““As for humans, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the animals. Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath (literally “spirit“); humans have no advantage over animals. Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return. Who knows if the human spirit rises upward and if the spirit of the animal goes down into the earth?”

Luke 12:6 “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God.”

Read more: http://www.whatchristianswanttoknow.com/do-animals-or-pets-go-to-heaven-a-biblical-analysis/#ixzz26GpQjro3

Dumb and Dumber

Just finished Marsha Boulton's Letters From Across the Country with its small town tales of wouldn't-you-know-it Mount Forest, Holstein and this rural area right ehre where we abide.  Jeff and I chuckled as I read aloud and familiar names arose...

Reminds me of intriguing and strange tales heard while working at my mom's General Store in Holstein, a hamlet of about 150 people and half as many canines and four times as many black and white cows, 143 kms northwest of Toronto.

Here's one about animals (not much of a surprise since around here plesantries usually include animal antics...you know, "how are you?  Sure is rainy out there.  Hear about what happened to my cat?") that I will call  Dumb and Dumber.

“My husband despises birds,” chirps the easily-excitable play lead [from the theatre production I was involved with at the time].  We are sharing pet stories.  Well…they are.  I am merely observing, sipping punch, watching, listening.  “Atleast he does now.  He used to love little Larry our snowflake-white canary.  They got along.  But the new parakeets…he can’t stand them.”

“How many do you have?” inquires another actor, batting heavily mascara-ed lids and swishing blonde wig strands from her eyes.  We are awaiting the beginning of our last performance and the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed.  Perhaps too relaxed – some slumped in child-size classroom chairs, appear close to dozing.

“Well, we had two.  But now there’s just one.”

“Named…?”

“Dumb.  Dumber died.”

“You  had birds called ‘Dumb’ and ‘Dumber’?”  She sounds as though she doesn’t want to believe this truth, looks at me, and rolls her eyes.

“Yes…”

“How do you know it’s Dumb who’s still alive?” pipes up a voice from across the room.

“Well, of course it’s Dumb.  The one who dies HAS to be dumber, don’t you think?” She cackles at her own apparent wit, and takes a long swig of juice.  Upon hastily drowning her drink she runs a finger across her lips and continues.

“My husband hates dumb.  But Larry….well that was another story.  He and Larry would sit and watch TV together.  The two of them just staring at the screen, hubby in his lazyboy and Larry on his cage perch in the corner of the room.”

She doesn’t seem to need to breathe as she relays stories.  The details are endlessly forthcoming.

“At Christmas we put in the tree and poor Larry was craning his neck – all crooked and bent trying to see that damn TV and you know what my  husband did?  I thought he’d let Larry out, or move the cage, but no…NO!  He just up and disappeared and next thing you know he’s back from the garage with the hedgetrimmers.  He chopped a big ole hole outta that tree – a circular chunk out of one area so Larry could see right to the TV.  He didn’t even need to crane his cute little feathery neck, not one little bit…”

I should have let it go.  But I was curious.

“Why does he hate the new one.  This  Dumb one?”

“The bird won’t shut up.  He throws pillows at it but it won’t learn to shut up.”

“He throws pillows at it?”

“It doesn’t HURT it?”

“Are they down pillows?” giggles one of the women.  A few of us groan at this lame pun.

 

Munchy Monday #1 Back to the Soil

“Did you ever see the customers in health - food stores? They are pale, skinny people who look half - dead. In a steak house, you see robust, ruddy people. They're dying, of course, but they look terrific.” Bill Cosby 

Yesterday I pondered, “What happened to the beauty of food?  The natural-ness of it?  (You know: tomatoes that are red and robust with flavour?)”

According to Wayne Roberts in The No-Nonsense Guide to World Food our culinary connection to actual from-the-soil food and its real-life from-the-farm growers all went downhill for Northern Hemisphere countries after the second World War.  A new-found belief that “science and technology can liberate humans” (p.34) essentially re-vamped the world of food production and presentation: food was suddenly  “produced” by an unknown global market force in who-knows-what part of the world and stuffed in cans and laden with preservatives (p.35).  Consumers started buying their food at superstores and gas stations, preparing it with little skill and/or time, and “hoovered, scarfed, or gulped” it down in front of the TV (p.37).

Grand scale production is what happened.

“Why would anyone (in their right mind) grow, gather, hunt or make food?” (p.58)

Why wouldn’t they?  Growing up surrounded by farmland and those who thoughtlessly gave most of their waking hours to the grueling labour associated with this land and the creatures that share it instilled in me a sense of awe…wonder that people could be so dedicated to such thankless pursuits that often yielded little financial reward.  They weren’t “producers” – they were co-workers in God’s creation allowing those of us around some pretty tasty, nutritional treats.

Have you ever eaten a carrot straight from the patch, teeny gobs of dirt growing in the corners of your lips, in that little crevice so prone to soak up food particles, red wine blotches, chocolate chunks?  Grabbed a juicy tomato from the vine and scarfed it down?  Bitten into a hairy yellow or green bean, and then a dozen more, because you simply couldn’t resist?

 Who wouldn’t want to “make food”?

Obviously someone.  (I just choose to believe that they just don’t know how…)

Jamie Oliver’s (you know, The Naked Chef?) “Food Revolution” targets home and corporations: teach healthier cooking at home and hit up corporations to more honestly label and produce food.  www.jamieoliver.com

I agree.  But it has to be even more…when kids think chocolate milk comes from brown cows that are less real to them than the Tooth Fairy and honestly believe that corn comes only from cans we have a problem indeed.

As a Girl Guide leader in Toronto I had the opportunity to take the girls to Centre Island’s petting zoo.  Despite the fact that most of the girls were from very wealthy families few of them had ever seen, let alone touched, an actual, real life mooing beast.

If they had no idea where their supper meat or milk came from, from where do they think asparagus materialized?

“To forget how to dig the earth and tend the soil is to forget ourselves”  Ghandi said.  http://chiotsrun.com/2010/01/16/quote-of-the-day-ghandi/

We need a little grand scale revival in our gardens…I know mine sure needs some weeding…have any spare time?  I just might be able to show you from where squash derives…and you’re certainly welcome to munch down on as many sweet cherry tomatoes as those taste buds of yours can handle!

 

 

Free The Gnomes on Munchy Monday

“Part of the secret of a success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside.“ Mark Twain  http://www.brainyquote.com

Being such a scattered soul means that routines always tend to increase my stick-to-it-ness.  Alas, along with my weekly “Saturday Stuff-It Chronicles” I am also going to attempt “Munchy Mondays”.  To hazard a guess I am sure your brilliance would correctly assume it will be all about food…

I am closer to a gnome than a gastronome…but that’s okay since almost everyone loves a chubby-bellied garden dweller whose been around since the Renaissance and who clings to two goals.  One, to look absolutely ridiculous, and two, to ward off evil spirits (probably because these atrocious phantoms are too occupied with belly-laughing over the roly poly kitsch).

So I assure you that Mondays will embrace little culinary talent (I wouldn’t leave Hell’s Kitchen a blubbering mess only because I’d be too flustered to have any idea what Ramsay was screeching about) although I may share some recipes.  Of what then shall Munchy Mondays consist?

Food.  Plain and simple and non-descript: food.

We used to hunt and gather, foraging in forests and fields, and beating small (or not so small) creatures to cast-iron-cauldron-sized remnants.  Now we hunt through labels and gather not-yet-ripe “fruit” in aisles, bludgeoning remnants housed in cylindrical metal into microwave-sized plastic bowls.  Yep, we’ve come a longgg way, Baby.  (As I’m sure the cigarettes would happily concur with our chemical-laden colons.)

What happened to the beauty of food?  The natural-ness of it?  (You know: tomatoes that are red and robust with flavour?)

Food.  Plain and simple and philosophical food, perhaps?

Please excuse me…I think someone may be starting some illicit activity with the fat guy in our garden….

P.S.  For some reading that may inspire political action on your behalf check out...
http://www.freethegnomes.com/
“Stop Oppressive Gardening
FreeTheGnomes.com provides Garden Gnome Liberation information and calls to action.
We advocate an end to oppressive gardening and freedom for garden gnomes everywhere.”

 

Saturday Stuff-It Chronicles #3: The Elephant Shingle Conundrum

Before the chilled rainy day reared its wet head we were meant to spend the day replacing our roof.  Difficult to believe that less than nine years after the last re-roofing of this home and already the shingles have cracked and peeled back.  Apparently even 25 year shingles now only survive 10 years.

As I imagine (and as I see other bins around town brimming over with heavy shingles after they’ve been chucked from roof heights) the massive amount of waste from this endeavour I feel a deepening sense of remorse.

What alternatives are there?

Sheet Roofing:  Sheet roofing costs about 3x the price and lasts about 50 years.   Get ready from some math (simple, simple math as this is moi speaking after all!) … So you save the cost of 2 roof changes and 4 dumps of roof shingles, nails, etc.  A bundle of shingles weighs about 70 lbs and I believe our roof needs about 60 bundles = 4200 lbs.  An Asian elephant weighs about 10,000 lbs so saving those 4 roof changes would be about 2 elephants worth of shingle weight waste diverted from the dump.

Green Roof:  This would be my roof of choice.  I envision romantic images of Scottish roofs where sheep graze or the ones on BC’s Gulf Islands, visited eons ago when I was young and had a kayak-friendly body that didn’t mind sleeping amongst other fellow ultimate-frisbee-team members on cold gravel in a wet tent…

 

But there’s so much more to it than just clumps of oxygen- producing grass and happy, fat lambs.

Advantages include: reduced energy costs  (“According to Environment Canada, lowering the inside temperature by one degree Celsius would reduce electricity demand for cooling systems by five percent. In winter, heat loss is reduced to a certain extent too” proofinghttp://www.city.waterloo.on.ca), a better use of previously-wasted space and even sound-proofing!

So why not this roof on our current home?  Cost.  Estimates tend to range around $5-10 per square foot, depending on your choice of “extensive” (hardier plants such as sedums that require little maintenance) or “semi-intensive” (weeding and watering required).  Cost to make our roof green?  $8500 - $17,000.  And as romantic as these roofs are, they aren’t quite so elementary as random jettisoning soil and grass seed atop your home.  Needed are several layers.

 

http://www.greengarage.ca

But WAIT!  Another alternative awaits….

Diaper Roof:  A Canadian company (go, Canada, go!) called Knowaste is, in an alliance with the British government, recycling diapers and feminine hygiene products into roof tiles.  “Over half million tonnes of waste from disposable diapers is generated in Britain every year. An average British baby uses 6,000 before being trained to use the potty.”  Knowaste is recycling around 36,000 tonnes of diapers. 

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/home/environment/the-good-earth/Britain-to-recycle-diapers-into-roof-tiles/articleshow/9969372.cms

 

 

So, dirty diapers, dirty elephant, or dirty roof?  What shall it be???  If the rain stops you might catch me outdoors changing pachyderm diapers (or atleast half-a-pachyderm)...