Oprah's doing it, so you should, too

Another "love her or hate her" personality, Oprah Winfrey is making sure we know how to reduce our carbon footprint.

http://www.oprah.com/subtopic/world/environment

I have mixed feelings. I have a little of the Oprah love myself, and I even drool a little during her "Favorite Things" episode in all of its material-laden glory. Overall, I think she does good things, or at least does her best to do good things. Just don't ask her about hamburgers.

Just to get that scary (but hilarious) picture off of the top of the page

I bring you Real Simple's articles about green living:

http://browse.realsimple.com/home-organizing/green-living/index.html

Stuck in the Middle with You

Lest you think we're getting too preachy and high-minded here at NSDH, I'd like to bring us back to middle ground. The idea behind Not-so-Dirty Hippies is to encourage small lifestyle changes for the greater good (ergo, the not-so-dirty part). I'm afraid that making drastic, sudden changes is not an approach that works for the long haul. (Think extreme dieters who end up gorging on a Big Mac.) I've sometimes been accused of not having a "medium button," and the first week or so of blogging is probably a good example of that. But since moderation is key to all of these changes, we'll try to keep that in mind as we write.

Take, for example, baby care. When my son was born, I was obsessed with the safety of the plastics that we use to feed and entertain him, and I researched BPA before it made national headlines. Also, I proudly continue to breastfeed my son. But, we also use disposable diapers, without much guilt, after reading a NY Times magazine article that basically equalized cloth and disposable diapers from an environmental perspective. Although I can't really see the environmental or social justice reasoning behind it, the choice not to vaccinate children seems to have gained a "hippie" following. We chose to vaccinate our son according to the schedule recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics. (For more information about why we vaccinate, please see this, and this, and this.) I "wore" my son in a sling when he was an infant, but he also rode in a stroller. We co-sleep some of the time, but not all of the time. Our son eats homemade organic food almost exclusively at home, but he's also tried Cheetos and (clutch the pearls) a McDonald's cheeseburger or two. I can't tell you how much Ibuprofen I've given him (sanctioned by our trusted pediatrician) to reduce teething pain and swelling. I suppose this is why a recent facebook quiz rated me "about as crunchy as Jell-O."

We don't make these decisions lightly. But we also know that it is important for our sanity, and also for our continued commitment to our priorities, to moderate our behavior so we can stay in this for the long haul.

Some of our lifestyle choices are expensive. Organic food, for example, is often more expensive than conventional food. So, we reduce consumption in other areas: we don't have cable or satellite television, and we don't subscribe to a DVD service. (This particular choice has come with the added benefit of more interaction as a family.) We don't belong to a gym in the warm months when we can walk for exercise. We don't go on expensive vacations. We have one desktop computer for the whole family (no laptops, no smartphones). We cook and eat almost all of our meals at home. We embrace hand-me-downs and other gently used toys, books and clothing. Are these sacrifices worthwhile? For us, they are, and they often lead to unanticipated benefits. And obviously, each family must choose what they prioritize for themselves.

Many "green" choices can come with economic savings, of course. As the price of gasoline continues to rise, walking or bicycling becomes an increasingly attractive alternative. In our community, recycling is free, while we pay for trash service by volume. So, we have a cost incentive to recycle. (Lucky us! But before you start patting my community on its proverbial back, know that kitchen waste cannot be composted here.) Our use of reusable shopping bags comes with cost incentives at two of our favorite grocery stores. Our cloth napkin use has drastically reduced our paper towel consumption. Of course, cloth napkins cost money. (In my case, they were sitting in the cabinet, wrinkled and out of use, but they had to be purchased at some point.) Our beloved squeegee was not free, nor was the milk frother we use for our coffee (to replace the coffee creamer that was purchased in addition to milk, that often went to waste). But the cost savings of using these items in the long run will more than make up for their cost. And we are not immune to consumption and accumulation of goods: I love the video monitor I have set up in the nursery more than anyone should love a material thing, and I have a Very Special Relationship with our washer and dryer.

This post was brought to you by the nail-biting session I had over compost last night. I didn't really know what to do about compost, but I knew we were throwing away a lot of kitchen scraps that could probably be composted. But then I found the above-referenced city ordinance banning kitchen scraps in compost. What's an eco-conscious girl to do? In other respects, our community is very green. I've never lived in a more walking-friendly place, and we do love our weekly recycling ritual. Our garbage goes to a waste-to-energy facility, so I think I can feel good about that.

After my composting dilemma, I went to bed, where I saw my ever-growing pile of books about our food sources on the nightstand. The next two books on my reading list are The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan and Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser. These are borrowed from our wonderful library, with due dates looming. I decided to give myself a break, though, and will return the books without reading them. After my other reading this month, I certainly have enough disgust and righteous indignation to get me through the summer months. I can re-check the same books out of the library, or look for them at our upcoming church book sale. By then, I may need to re-fuel the fire for inspiration to eat locally-grown organic food.

Until then, expect to hear from me about Coop: A Year of Poultry, Pigs, and Parenting by Michael Perry. It looks like a much-lighter read on the same subjects, and the writer is from Wisconsin, so I like him already. Maybe I'll find that medium button yet.

You Can't Always Get What You Want

In the spirit of Paul's post below about stuff, stuff, stuff... I bring you my first segment about using what we have in creative ways. This post would be so much more dramatic if I could figure out how to post pictures strategically throughout the text, but here goes.

We live in Minnesota. It's very dry here. My son has sensitive skin. So, we have a small humidifier for his room, which doubles as a guest room. The directions on the humidifier, coupled with a toddler's budding curiosity, dictate that the humidifier be raised from the ground. His room is not small, but because it is also a guest room, space is tight. Also, money is tight. Also, my husband's time is a premium commodity, and asking him to install a shelf just puts off other essential projects (e.g., childproofing the house, telling me I'm beautiful, buying ice cream). Installing a shelf myself is simply not an option, because my husband would end up un-doing what I did to fix it. So, I decided to get innovative.

There is a space behind the bed, because in order to fit the huge queen-sized bed frame in the room with the crib and all the other baby things, we (= husband) arranged the bed diagonally. I have bins full of the baby's outgrown clothing, so I stacked them up behind the bed's headboard, and placed the humidifier on top of them. Voila - we have extra storage space for the bins (which are hidden by the bed frame), and a raised surface for the humidifier. Underneath the humidifier is a baby towel that is now, sadly, too small to dry off anything but the baby's gigantic feet.

Several questions probably come to mind when viewing these pictures, so I'll do my best to anticipate and answer them.

Q: Does this woman ever dust?

A: No.

Q: That's all clothing outgrown by one child? In 15 months? Those are big bins!

A: Yes. Actually, there are probably twice that many bins around here, in the basement and the garage. Thus, the need for more storage. In my defense, the vast majority of his clothes are hand-me-downs, and some were bought from a second-hand store. Also, when we're absolutely sure that we won't need them any more (for future children), they will be re-sold or donated. Finally, cute baby clothes stave off the effects of postpartum depression. True fact.

Q: Those Rubbermaid bins can't be good for the environment. They were probably manufactured with all kinds of toxins, and in a sweatshop no less. For shame.

A: That wasn't really a question, now was it? If it makes you feel better, those Rubbermaid bins will be used and re-used by our household until they fall apart. I have not found an affordable, greener alternative, as handwoven bamboo baskets are not within our means. There are plenty of other sustainable resources I could have used to stack up behind the bed (the 36 pounds of dog hair that I sweep from our floors daily, for example), but this served a double purpose.

Q: Where can I get a penguin humidifier?

A: At Target, and probably other places. It's made by Crane.

Q: Why don't you just install a whole-house humidifier?

A: It's on our list. But we'll probably still use the small humidifier in the baby's room, because it's just that dry here. And the penguin is just so darned cute.

Growth Curve

The tomato plant that the farmers' market vendor promised would flourish in a pot. We'll see. If it does, I hope the raccoons enjoy its bounty.

From the top: last year's sad basil, curly parsley, sage, rosemary

From the top: basil, thyme, oregano, dill and chives

When Paul and I were growing up, our grandparents (of the vinegar-drinking fame) had a huge garden. It was over an acre in size, and they grew everything I could imagine a Wisconsin garden could grow, including their own popcorn. We benefitted not only from the produce from the garden, but also by learning how food is grown. When we were really young, our grandparents delighted in teaching us how to dig in the dirt, and I remember at least one occasion when Paul was treated to a gigantic carrot straight out of the ground, sans washing. When our grandfather became ill with cancer, we were enlisted to help my grandmother in more than symbolic ways, by weeding, watering, and harvesting. Their garden was organic before it was a popular concept, and they were so proud of the fact that they did not use chemical pesticides.

Unfortunately, neither through nature nor nurture, I did not inherit the gardening gene. I grow some herbs, which usually include enough basil to keep us in pesto through the winter. But my other gardening efforts, even including houseplants, have been bleak. I suppose it's just as well for our current circumstances. Our yard is tiny, and just barely big enough for our two dogs to relieve themselves. We also have a host of hungry raccoons roaming the neighborhood. (A few summers ago, one of them broke into our screened-in porch to steal some tasty dog food out of a sealed container!) I know genius gardeners who have grown whole vegetable gardens in pots, in a smaller space than ours, but the last several years' worth of my efforts have shown that I just don't seem to have what that takes. Sorry, Grandma and Grandpa.

Lucky for us, we seem to live in a hotbed of farmers' markets. We have a small one within walking distance of our house that starts up in July, and two huge markets in nearby Minneapolis that operate all summer. The farmers' markets have everything from freshly-made sheep cheese to Vietnamese dim sum, rabbits and jam, and of course, locally-grown organic vegetables and herbs. I didn't know what we would find when we ventured to the Mill City Farmers' Market yesterday, since it's so early in the growing season. We were delighted to find stands full of vendors and food, but also the crowds to support them. There was even a little stand with animals for children (and adults, of course!) to see, and my son loved meeting a baby goat, ducks, chickens, and rabbits. To find a farmers' market near you, visit: http://www.localharvest.org/farmers-markets/

We also joined a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program this summer. It's a program by which a family can "subscribe" to a local farm, paying in the late winter or early spring for a share in that growing season's harvest. CSAs are increasing in popularity, and we had no shortage of choices when we picked our farm. This is the first summer that we've joined a CSA, and I hope to blog about it as our produce arrives. We will get a weekly box full of whatever was harvested that week, and it will be delivered to a home in a nearby neighborhood. We're hoping to walk to our pick-up site most weeks. I've been warned by our CSA-experienced friends that the first year can be a challenge - there is often a lot of food in each box, and it can be a challenge for one family to eat it all. We have an extra freezer, so I'm hoping to freeze some of the bounty, and I'm diving head-first into all of our cookbooks and my bookmarked recipe sites to think ahead about how to be creative with a few pounds of arugula. CSA members take a risk by subscribing - if the farmer's broccoli crop fails, then there's no broccoli. But that's a risk we're willing to take. We look forward to trying some new vegetables, and expanding the uses of the vegetables we know and love. And, if we get 17 pounds of zucchini one week, I'll feel like a real gardener when I try to push it off on my friends.

So, even though I can't walk into my backyard to harvest a salad, I'm still keeping my eye on the skies for rain and sun, and I feel involved in the growing process that brings food to our table.

Farming is Cool

So says the New York Times.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/24/dining/24interns.html

Stuff, stuff and more stuff

It's not secret that we fill our homes, our lives with 'stuff'. There is an innate desire to acquire more stuff from early in our lives.

While many are making efforts to reduce the amount of stuff in their lives - it's not hard to spot our communal failure in this - the storage industry is booming and apparent as we drive through any community today.

Part of the problem with this is we disassociate the true costs of things we acquire. The video "The Story of Stuff" does a good job of pointing to some of the true costs of our stuff. Some of the rhetoric may go a little to far, please try to overlook that and take the main message to heart.

On YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLBE5QAYXp8
On it's own site: http://www.storyofstuff.com/
(You may need to cut and paste the links, have some difficulty this morning.)

Other small steps . . . the innate desire - my son strongly desires more stuff - most kids ask for stuff in stores, his went farther, he wanted more food than his sister, more toys, more paper-towels to dry his hands in public restrooms! One day I explained that the paper-towels had to come from somewhere and we should try to compete to see who could use less. Now, when we're drying our hands he'll often bust me - "dad, I used less paper than you!"