Little late on this - I've hurt my back and been somewhat out of commission in addition to dealing with everything else that's going on now. In general, Christmas wasn't so hot in terms of my independence days project. It wasn't a wash, I don't think, but between being with my folks and away from home and this year's gift selections...well...it probably could have been better.
The one thing that I was hoping for that I didn't get was Sharon's book, although I did get a gift card that will be used to purchase said book, so that works well too. But another warm wool blanket has found its way into my life, as have some lovely kitchen things that I'm looking forward to using (I still have a few posts planned on aesthetics and, as much as possible, making your home into a place that you want to be). And, from my sweetie I got a copy of the More with Less Cookbook, which I think is a must-have for easy, cheap, and tasty meals from the pantry. But, more specifically, here's the current breakdown.
1. Plant something: Nope.
2. Harvest something: Nope.
3. Preserve something: Also nope.
4. Store something: Nope.
5. Manage Reserves: Not so much.
6. Cook something new: Picked up a few new recipes from mom, as well as two new cookbooks to try out.
7. Prepped something: Got another wool blanket to add to the reserves, as well as a hand-turned egg beater (I've been looking for one for ages, but all the new ones I found were small and stiff and badly made - this one is lovely, though.)
8. Learned a new skill: Nope, although my brother has promised to teach me the basics of bike repairs and, possibly, home brewing.
9. Worked on community food security: Talked a bit about food issues with my parents and boyfriend by taking advantage of a relocation show on HGTV talking about a family moving to Ireland and buying a small farm to become sustainable.
10. Reduced waste: Had the joy of being in a city with a large green box (high-level composting) program - I have to admit that I pined for the same in my city, but no signs of that coming to fruition, so I guess it's back to the worm box plan.
11. Regenerated: Donated to the church, which has some excellent outreach efforts through their foodbank, both in terms of feeding people and working on generating community.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Making technology serve
I'd already been thinking about this a bit, but Sharon Sharonrecently had an interesting post on Obsolete Technologiesobsolete technologies that got me thinking a bit more.
I have to confess, I have technology. I just (literally yesterday) bought a new laptop. A new, high-end, very expensive laptop. It took me a long time to get it - almost 8 months to finally bite the bullet and just get it, and even then it took a lot of hand holding to get me through. I put it on my credit card, but I have the money, and have been saving for this for years, but for some reason this doesn't tend to make spending the money any easier for me. I always debate purchases like this, and then debate them some more. But, given my academic research (virtual worlds and the like), my old four and half year old laptop literally couldn't run the programs I needed anymore and was causing me a lot of grief. It felt like a worthwhile investment to get a new one. Now, I could probably have done this cheaper, or with a less nice computer. But the plan is that this one will last me a long time and will, with any luck, get me through the dissertation faster which will be cheaper in the long run. And so, here I am.
A laptop isn't all that I have. I have a TV and a VCR, both of which I inherited when my grandmother died, as well as a $40 DVD player that was a gift from my sweetie. I have a cell phone, which is a hand-me-down from my sweetie and soon to be on a cheapie pay-as-you-go plan. I also have an iPod, which was a birthday gift four or five years ago from my ex. I have a digital camera (which may be used for some photos here soon), but that I bought for myself, also with the intention of it lasting a number of years. Now, I do like most of this technology - love the iPod, the cell is handy in emergencies, and the TV is nice for cheap entertainment and vegging out in the evenings. But, truth be told, I'd be fine without any of it, but looking at the list, it's all been passed along by someone else.
Other than the laptop and the camera, all of this technology has been giving to me. And, when I look around, I realise that most of what I've bought for myself and what gets used regularly are not the fancy technology options. I have my grandmother's 1950s electric sewing machine, but I frequently use that without power and just hand crank it instead. I have a hand-crank radio that I listen to when I'm working around the house. I love my little spring-loaded chopper, my hand-crank grain mill (as coarse as it grinds), and kneading bread by hand before it goes into the oven.
I sometimes feel as though I live in two worlds. Because of my research, I participate regularly in a high-technology and high-energy world just by virtue of my research (although I am working on some papers dealing with energy consumption and social justice issues in the hopes of somehow redeeming myself.) But, when I'm at home, I slip into a rather domestic, rather low-energy space where I cook from scratch, knit, bake, sew, try to grow things, and use whatever obsolete technologies I have that I enjoy.
But lately I've been thinking about these high-level technologies, and wondering how I might be able to make them work for me a bit better than they are now. How, for example, can they serve as tools for this low-energy, sustainable life that I'm looking for? How can they serve me other than academically? At the same time, I'm also looking into how I might be able to power a laptop long term, and might see if a friend of mine at 3M could help me set up a solar rig for the new laptop, since it has lower energy needs than the old one.
I haven't quite worked it all yet, but here are a few ideas that I'm looking into.
1. Learning and teaching - with the availability of podcasts and videos now, I'm trying to build up a library of materials (especially now that I have a much larger hard drive) that will be useful for teaching and learning. Thus far, I'm looking into subject podcasts, like history, science, and social studies, as well as language lessons. I'd also like to get together a bunch of videos showing things like bike repair, building a chicken coop, milking a goat, playing a guitar, and anything else that might be useful to know. I'm also pulling together a library of PDFs with the same information - books and articles, printouts of web pages, musical scores - really, anything that might be useful.
2. Entertainment - I love my guitar for entertainment, and have many shelves worth of books around my apartment. But, sometimes it's nice to just sit down and watch a movie. And, while learning takes priority, I haven't ruled out the possibility of using a laptop for some music or a film when the urge strikes.
3. Warmth - Okay, this might be stretching it a bit, but once I realised that my old laptop threw a lot of heat, I made sure to use it in bed with me. It warmed up the bed a bit, and felt rather nice. My hot water bottle is just as effective and less prone to breakage, but I'll take whatever I can get right.
I'm still thinking this through, but would be happy to take on any suggestions that others might have about how they're using their technologies.
I have to confess, I have technology. I just (literally yesterday) bought a new laptop. A new, high-end, very expensive laptop. It took me a long time to get it - almost 8 months to finally bite the bullet and just get it, and even then it took a lot of hand holding to get me through. I put it on my credit card, but I have the money, and have been saving for this for years, but for some reason this doesn't tend to make spending the money any easier for me. I always debate purchases like this, and then debate them some more. But, given my academic research (virtual worlds and the like), my old four and half year old laptop literally couldn't run the programs I needed anymore and was causing me a lot of grief. It felt like a worthwhile investment to get a new one. Now, I could probably have done this cheaper, or with a less nice computer. But the plan is that this one will last me a long time and will, with any luck, get me through the dissertation faster which will be cheaper in the long run. And so, here I am.
A laptop isn't all that I have. I have a TV and a VCR, both of which I inherited when my grandmother died, as well as a $40 DVD player that was a gift from my sweetie. I have a cell phone, which is a hand-me-down from my sweetie and soon to be on a cheapie pay-as-you-go plan. I also have an iPod, which was a birthday gift four or five years ago from my ex. I have a digital camera (which may be used for some photos here soon), but that I bought for myself, also with the intention of it lasting a number of years. Now, I do like most of this technology - love the iPod, the cell is handy in emergencies, and the TV is nice for cheap entertainment and vegging out in the evenings. But, truth be told, I'd be fine without any of it, but looking at the list, it's all been passed along by someone else.
Other than the laptop and the camera, all of this technology has been giving to me. And, when I look around, I realise that most of what I've bought for myself and what gets used regularly are not the fancy technology options. I have my grandmother's 1950s electric sewing machine, but I frequently use that without power and just hand crank it instead. I have a hand-crank radio that I listen to when I'm working around the house. I love my little spring-loaded chopper, my hand-crank grain mill (as coarse as it grinds), and kneading bread by hand before it goes into the oven.
I sometimes feel as though I live in two worlds. Because of my research, I participate regularly in a high-technology and high-energy world just by virtue of my research (although I am working on some papers dealing with energy consumption and social justice issues in the hopes of somehow redeeming myself.) But, when I'm at home, I slip into a rather domestic, rather low-energy space where I cook from scratch, knit, bake, sew, try to grow things, and use whatever obsolete technologies I have that I enjoy.
But lately I've been thinking about these high-level technologies, and wondering how I might be able to make them work for me a bit better than they are now. How, for example, can they serve as tools for this low-energy, sustainable life that I'm looking for? How can they serve me other than academically? At the same time, I'm also looking into how I might be able to power a laptop long term, and might see if a friend of mine at 3M could help me set up a solar rig for the new laptop, since it has lower energy needs than the old one.
I haven't quite worked it all yet, but here are a few ideas that I'm looking into.
1. Learning and teaching - with the availability of podcasts and videos now, I'm trying to build up a library of materials (especially now that I have a much larger hard drive) that will be useful for teaching and learning. Thus far, I'm looking into subject podcasts, like history, science, and social studies, as well as language lessons. I'd also like to get together a bunch of videos showing things like bike repair, building a chicken coop, milking a goat, playing a guitar, and anything else that might be useful to know. I'm also pulling together a library of PDFs with the same information - books and articles, printouts of web pages, musical scores - really, anything that might be useful.
2. Entertainment - I love my guitar for entertainment, and have many shelves worth of books around my apartment. But, sometimes it's nice to just sit down and watch a movie. And, while learning takes priority, I haven't ruled out the possibility of using a laptop for some music or a film when the urge strikes.
3. Warmth - Okay, this might be stretching it a bit, but once I realised that my old laptop threw a lot of heat, I made sure to use it in bed with me. It warmed up the bed a bit, and felt rather nice. My hot water bottle is just as effective and less prone to breakage, but I'll take whatever I can get right.
I'm still thinking this through, but would be happy to take on any suggestions that others might have about how they're using their technologies.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
It's been a bit of a hard Christmas thus far well above and beyond my (relatively minor in the whole scheme of things) gift issues. My sweetie was laid off yesterday and, while I suppose this doesn't have a huge immediate effect on me, since we don't live anywhere close to each other, it's put a bit of a damper on the whole thing. I'm a worrier, and I find myself...well...worrying. He syas he's okay with savings for a bit, and his mom and I will help out wherever possible, but with the economic climate and everything else that's going on, I worry all the same.
My greatest fear in life is that the people around me who I love will suffer. I worry about my own situation sometimes, but in a way that's probably more realistic. The thought of anyone that I love hurt or cold or hungry or, god forbid, homeless can reduce me to tears in remarkably short order. I worry about these things for myself, but they don't affect me as much as the thought of it happening to someone I care about. The very thought brings me to my knees, and I would sooner suffer cold or hunger myself if it meant allowing someone who I love to have a bit more of what they needed.
The fact that we're in tough times only reminds me a lot of these things. I hear all the stories about people who can't afford their homes, and can't afford food, and are just trying to get by, and I transpose it onto the people that I know. I see signs at the church about the dinner the food bank is hosting tomorrow. I feel even worse when I look at the gifts under the tree and know that not only are there people with no gifts, but those with no warmth, or food, or even homes tonight, and it breaks my heart open even more.
But sweetie and I were talking tonight, and he told me that he'd found out that a friend from high school, who's only a year younger than he is, had died of a heart attack. He left behind his wife of only four months who is also six weeks pregnant. And, while he wishes that it didn't happen this way, he assures me that the who thing has really put the whole situation into perspective a bit more.
And so, rather than focusing just on those important things that need work, I'm also trying to remember the good and all that I'm grateful for. As I said earlier, this time of year really isn't about the gifts, or even about the food or the travel or anything like that. It's about home and friends and family and good company and hospitality. And it's about values - love, friendship, caring, sharing, warmth, valuing what we have, and celebrating as we come back into season of light. And so these are the things that I'm thinking about as I try to find my self-forgiveness from earlier and a way to get past only allowing in the worry that's taken hold of me, both for my sweetie and, more broadly, for the world. And so...
I'm grateful that I have friends and family and a wonderful sweetie who love me, support me, and care for me.
I'm grateful that I'm healthy, and that I have the means to help keep myself that way.
I'm grateful that I have a comfortable apartment to head home to, with food in the pantry, warm blankets on the bed, and tools and objects that serve me well.
I'm grateful that I have money in my wallet and in my bank account. I'm also grateful that I was able to let go a bit of my need to hold onto it and put some in the collection plate at church tonight, something I'm not always so good at.
I'm grateful to have a job that I love and the support that I need to do it well.
I'm grateful that I have a safety net if I need it.
I'm grateful that I'm aware of issues in the world, and that I have the capacity to do something about them.
I'm grateful that I have so much love in my life, but even more that I have love for life, and that I still feel that there's room for change, and growth, and making our way into something new and hopefully better than what we have now.
Happy holidays to everyone out there, and I truly hope that you have at least some things in your life to be grateful for as well as hope that things that aren't so good will somehow get better.
Pacem in Terris.
My greatest fear in life is that the people around me who I love will suffer. I worry about my own situation sometimes, but in a way that's probably more realistic. The thought of anyone that I love hurt or cold or hungry or, god forbid, homeless can reduce me to tears in remarkably short order. I worry about these things for myself, but they don't affect me as much as the thought of it happening to someone I care about. The very thought brings me to my knees, and I would sooner suffer cold or hunger myself if it meant allowing someone who I love to have a bit more of what they needed.
The fact that we're in tough times only reminds me a lot of these things. I hear all the stories about people who can't afford their homes, and can't afford food, and are just trying to get by, and I transpose it onto the people that I know. I see signs at the church about the dinner the food bank is hosting tomorrow. I feel even worse when I look at the gifts under the tree and know that not only are there people with no gifts, but those with no warmth, or food, or even homes tonight, and it breaks my heart open even more.
But sweetie and I were talking tonight, and he told me that he'd found out that a friend from high school, who's only a year younger than he is, had died of a heart attack. He left behind his wife of only four months who is also six weeks pregnant. And, while he wishes that it didn't happen this way, he assures me that the who thing has really put the whole situation into perspective a bit more.
And so, rather than focusing just on those important things that need work, I'm also trying to remember the good and all that I'm grateful for. As I said earlier, this time of year really isn't about the gifts, or even about the food or the travel or anything like that. It's about home and friends and family and good company and hospitality. And it's about values - love, friendship, caring, sharing, warmth, valuing what we have, and celebrating as we come back into season of light. And so these are the things that I'm thinking about as I try to find my self-forgiveness from earlier and a way to get past only allowing in the worry that's taken hold of me, both for my sweetie and, more broadly, for the world. And so...
I'm grateful that I have friends and family and a wonderful sweetie who love me, support me, and care for me.
I'm grateful that I'm healthy, and that I have the means to help keep myself that way.
I'm grateful that I have a comfortable apartment to head home to, with food in the pantry, warm blankets on the bed, and tools and objects that serve me well.
I'm grateful that I have money in my wallet and in my bank account. I'm also grateful that I was able to let go a bit of my need to hold onto it and put some in the collection plate at church tonight, something I'm not always so good at.
I'm grateful to have a job that I love and the support that I need to do it well.
I'm grateful that I have a safety net if I need it.
I'm grateful that I'm aware of issues in the world, and that I have the capacity to do something about them.
I'm grateful that I have so much love in my life, but even more that I have love for life, and that I still feel that there's room for change, and growth, and making our way into something new and hopefully better than what we have now.
Happy holidays to everyone out there, and I truly hope that you have at least some things in your life to be grateful for as well as hope that things that aren't so good will somehow get better.
Pacem in Terris.
Teaching the teachers to teach
One of the things I've been trying to think about recently is resources that I can get from the university. I started out under the impression that most of the resources that I think I need are not available at the university. They're simply not going to teach me how to put in a garden, raise animals, or build my own house. Or, if they do, it won't be in the way that I want them to do so.
But, lately I've been thinking about furthering my own career, as well as trying to broaden my perspective on what the university has to offer, and I've come up with some interesting possibilities.
In terms of my own work, I haven't yet given up on teaching as an ongoing career. I still plan to finish my degree and do what I can with it, and I'm hoping to do it fairly quickly so it won't be too expensive. But I've realised that the university has free programs for its grad students that I can use and that might just help me get a job down the road, which is useful.
So today I signed up for their teaching certificate program. It has a few different components to teach grad students how to be better teachers, including lectures and workshops. It'll take a bit of time to do, but hopefully it will make it a bit easier for me to get a job down the road, and to keep doing what I love.
But it also struck me, as I was reading about the program and what it offers, that many of the things it teaches are more widely useful. A lot of the focus is on how to teach or, more broadly, how to effective communicate information in an engaging way so people can learn from it. While this is useful in teaching, I suspect it's also going to be crucial in the kind of world that we're moving into. We're going to need to pass information to each other to survive, and show other people how to do things that they're just not familiar with. Need to know how to shear a sheep? Someone will probably have to show you. The same goes for any manner of jobs that are no longer common knowledge, from spinning to making a barrel and from growing a garden to building a cabin.
So, while it's maybe not exactly the kind of resources that I want in terms of practical peak oil skills, I'm trying to open my eyes to see what I can draw on that's free and easily available that might help me and others down the road. I also suspect that there might be other people who have access to similar programs that might be worth considering. Does your job offer special professional development courses on leadership or communication skills? Is your university willing to teach you study skills or how to more effectively research topics? These kind of courses might not be immediately applicable to peak oil, but they offer skills that we're going to need more than ever, especially as we try to revive and transmit other skills that will be necessary to our survival. We're going to need to know how to learn and research and teach in effective way that allow us to know and share the information that will help to keep us alive. And this, I suspect, makes them absolutely worth looking into.
But, lately I've been thinking about furthering my own career, as well as trying to broaden my perspective on what the university has to offer, and I've come up with some interesting possibilities.
In terms of my own work, I haven't yet given up on teaching as an ongoing career. I still plan to finish my degree and do what I can with it, and I'm hoping to do it fairly quickly so it won't be too expensive. But I've realised that the university has free programs for its grad students that I can use and that might just help me get a job down the road, which is useful.
So today I signed up for their teaching certificate program. It has a few different components to teach grad students how to be better teachers, including lectures and workshops. It'll take a bit of time to do, but hopefully it will make it a bit easier for me to get a job down the road, and to keep doing what I love.
But it also struck me, as I was reading about the program and what it offers, that many of the things it teaches are more widely useful. A lot of the focus is on how to teach or, more broadly, how to effective communicate information in an engaging way so people can learn from it. While this is useful in teaching, I suspect it's also going to be crucial in the kind of world that we're moving into. We're going to need to pass information to each other to survive, and show other people how to do things that they're just not familiar with. Need to know how to shear a sheep? Someone will probably have to show you. The same goes for any manner of jobs that are no longer common knowledge, from spinning to making a barrel and from growing a garden to building a cabin.
So, while it's maybe not exactly the kind of resources that I want in terms of practical peak oil skills, I'm trying to open my eyes to see what I can draw on that's free and easily available that might help me and others down the road. I also suspect that there might be other people who have access to similar programs that might be worth considering. Does your job offer special professional development courses on leadership or communication skills? Is your university willing to teach you study skills or how to more effectively research topics? These kind of courses might not be immediately applicable to peak oil, but they offer skills that we're going to need more than ever, especially as we try to revive and transmit other skills that will be necessary to our survival. We're going to need to know how to learn and research and teach in effective way that allow us to know and share the information that will help to keep us alive. And this, I suspect, makes them absolutely worth looking into.
The Christmas gift that wasn't
I've been thinking about this post for awhile, and wondering how it reflects on my, and whether I should post it or not. But, I'm a pretty honest person, and I think I can put my failures out there too, so here goes.
When mom originally asked what I wanted for Christmas this year, I told her a grain mill. I even told her which one - the Lehman's Best grain mill, for those of you who are interested. She looked it up and emailed me a few days later, telling me that she'd looked at it, but was concerned because it was a bit expensive, and with shipping and the conversion and taxes and any duty it would use up the bulk of their budget for me. And, she pointed out, since it was backordered, I might not even have anything under the tree at all. So, I called her with the goal of explaining why I wanted it and that that was okay, and we talked. And she expressed concern - rather a lot of concern, actually - that I wouldn't have as many gifts under the tree as anyone else. Now, this isn't really a huge deal - last year they bought me the expensive running shoes favoured by my bum ankle, which was the bulk of my gift, and we have a general tradition of a larger gift and then a few smaller ones - but she was concerned. And, I have to admit, the more she talked about it, the more I didn't feel so great about the prospect either.
So, I sent her a list of books that I wanted. Some useful for peak oil and sustainability, some that I just wnated to read and that were on my wishlist. I love books, and I think they're great to have around, especially for a low-energy lifestyle.
I tossed in suggestions for a capo and guitar book so I can work on those skills and hopefully improve enough that it can be a viable form of entertainment.
But, I came home the other day, and found that I have a significantly larger pile of gifts than anyone else (which mom actually pointed out to me), which is kind of odd, given how she was talking. Apparently mom and dad wanted some more expensive things, and so have less packages (well, more expensive for us, which is pretty much the difference between a sweater and a book). Heck, my brother couldn't even think of anything he wanted, and he's getting a cheque from them and a single gift. So, really, I'm not sure why my grain mill as one big gift request was such a big deal. So, now I have a bigger pile of gifts, and the fun (that would be a sarcastic fun, for those of you following along at home) of opening gifts for awhile after everyone else has finished, which is always rather embarassing and a not-good feeling, at least for me.
Now, I don't want to blame this all on my mom, since I was caught up in the whole gift thing probably more than I would really like to admit. I can't say that having as many presents as everyone else wasn't appealing, and if I'm honest, I suspect that I didn't want to be the only one sitting there with one gift while everyone else was working their way through a pile. But I feel like such a sucker now, and every time I see that pile of gifts I feel really bad about it. Even though they're all things that I've wanted to read and would like to have on hand, I keep thinking that I could have just used the library for them. And they're more things that I'll have to move eventually. And I could have asked for a grain mill instead. I still plan to buy one as a way to take care of myself and, if need be, of them too, but even though it's not the end of the world I just feel so foolish and suckered in and...well...kind of dirty about the whole thing. I don't want to be a person who gets caught up in things like this, especially when I was really starting to feel like I wasn't.
(And, really, don't get me started about the fact that I could have just asked for a donation to be made to Heifer International or any other charity. That just leaves me feeling even worse, and I'm about to make another donation in lieu of what I should have done in the first place.)
So, what's the moral of the story here? I guess for me it's at least partly to remember that this isn't about the gifts - getting caught up in the commercialism isn't useful and seriously pulls me away from where and who I want to be. And perhaps even more importantly, it's okay to be my usual different self, and to approach something like this in a different way than people expect or even want from me. And yeah, that's kind of hard when it's my mom who seems to want something different than what I do, and expresses in terms of concern for me (which is admittedly sweet, in a way). But apparently I need to work even harder at avoiding these traps and sticking to my guns about my needs and desires in all of this.
And so, tonight I'm going to try to find myself a bit of self-forgiveness and accept that I made a bit of a mistake which I'm feeling arther acutely right now. And tomorrow I'm going to get up and open my gifts. And I'm going to be grateful for them and for the people who cared enough to give me those gifts (and yes, love isn't about gifts, but the can still be rather thoughtful), and I'm going to enjoy them, and think about how they can be useful to this project that I'm on, even if it's not as immediately apparent as I might like. Later I'm going to order myself a grain mill and work harder at my own project and the things that I need to do for myself. And then, in just under a year, I'm going to try to remember these lessons and be more careful around Christmas so as to not fall into the same trap. I can certainly learn my lesson here, it's just feeling like a bit of a bitter pill to swallow right now, especially in the face of Christmas and all it's supposed to represent.
Edited to add: It's after Christmas morning here (my folks still wake us up a bit early for the whole gift thing), and I'm feeling better about the whole thing. I got some nice gifts, nothing too extravagant and, it turns out that mom was pushing so hard against the grain mill because they already had a few things for me. And, while I suppose I could have pushed harder, either for a mill or for some more donations, it probably wasn't happening so much anyway. But, I got a bit of money from the grandparents, and that will probably go towards a mill.
When mom originally asked what I wanted for Christmas this year, I told her a grain mill. I even told her which one - the Lehman's Best grain mill, for those of you who are interested. She looked it up and emailed me a few days later, telling me that she'd looked at it, but was concerned because it was a bit expensive, and with shipping and the conversion and taxes and any duty it would use up the bulk of their budget for me. And, she pointed out, since it was backordered, I might not even have anything under the tree at all. So, I called her with the goal of explaining why I wanted it and that that was okay, and we talked. And she expressed concern - rather a lot of concern, actually - that I wouldn't have as many gifts under the tree as anyone else. Now, this isn't really a huge deal - last year they bought me the expensive running shoes favoured by my bum ankle, which was the bulk of my gift, and we have a general tradition of a larger gift and then a few smaller ones - but she was concerned. And, I have to admit, the more she talked about it, the more I didn't feel so great about the prospect either.
So, I sent her a list of books that I wanted. Some useful for peak oil and sustainability, some that I just wnated to read and that were on my wishlist. I love books, and I think they're great to have around, especially for a low-energy lifestyle.
I tossed in suggestions for a capo and guitar book so I can work on those skills and hopefully improve enough that it can be a viable form of entertainment.
But, I came home the other day, and found that I have a significantly larger pile of gifts than anyone else (which mom actually pointed out to me), which is kind of odd, given how she was talking. Apparently mom and dad wanted some more expensive things, and so have less packages (well, more expensive for us, which is pretty much the difference between a sweater and a book). Heck, my brother couldn't even think of anything he wanted, and he's getting a cheque from them and a single gift. So, really, I'm not sure why my grain mill as one big gift request was such a big deal. So, now I have a bigger pile of gifts, and the fun (that would be a sarcastic fun, for those of you following along at home) of opening gifts for awhile after everyone else has finished, which is always rather embarassing and a not-good feeling, at least for me.
Now, I don't want to blame this all on my mom, since I was caught up in the whole gift thing probably more than I would really like to admit. I can't say that having as many presents as everyone else wasn't appealing, and if I'm honest, I suspect that I didn't want to be the only one sitting there with one gift while everyone else was working their way through a pile. But I feel like such a sucker now, and every time I see that pile of gifts I feel really bad about it. Even though they're all things that I've wanted to read and would like to have on hand, I keep thinking that I could have just used the library for them. And they're more things that I'll have to move eventually. And I could have asked for a grain mill instead. I still plan to buy one as a way to take care of myself and, if need be, of them too, but even though it's not the end of the world I just feel so foolish and suckered in and...well...kind of dirty about the whole thing. I don't want to be a person who gets caught up in things like this, especially when I was really starting to feel like I wasn't.
(And, really, don't get me started about the fact that I could have just asked for a donation to be made to Heifer International or any other charity. That just leaves me feeling even worse, and I'm about to make another donation in lieu of what I should have done in the first place.)
So, what's the moral of the story here? I guess for me it's at least partly to remember that this isn't about the gifts - getting caught up in the commercialism isn't useful and seriously pulls me away from where and who I want to be. And perhaps even more importantly, it's okay to be my usual different self, and to approach something like this in a different way than people expect or even want from me. And yeah, that's kind of hard when it's my mom who seems to want something different than what I do, and expresses in terms of concern for me (which is admittedly sweet, in a way). But apparently I need to work even harder at avoiding these traps and sticking to my guns about my needs and desires in all of this.
And so, tonight I'm going to try to find myself a bit of self-forgiveness and accept that I made a bit of a mistake which I'm feeling arther acutely right now. And tomorrow I'm going to get up and open my gifts. And I'm going to be grateful for them and for the people who cared enough to give me those gifts (and yes, love isn't about gifts, but the can still be rather thoughtful), and I'm going to enjoy them, and think about how they can be useful to this project that I'm on, even if it's not as immediately apparent as I might like. Later I'm going to order myself a grain mill and work harder at my own project and the things that I need to do for myself. And then, in just under a year, I'm going to try to remember these lessons and be more careful around Christmas so as to not fall into the same trap. I can certainly learn my lesson here, it's just feeling like a bit of a bitter pill to swallow right now, especially in the face of Christmas and all it's supposed to represent.
Edited to add: It's after Christmas morning here (my folks still wake us up a bit early for the whole gift thing), and I'm feeling better about the whole thing. I got some nice gifts, nothing too extravagant and, it turns out that mom was pushing so hard against the grain mill because they already had a few things for me. And, while I suppose I could have pushed harder, either for a mill or for some more donations, it probably wasn't happening so much anyway. But, I got a bit of money from the grandparents, and that will probably go towards a mill.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Independence Days update
1. Plant something: didn't plant anything directly, but I did order a number of seed catalogues to plan for this summer; checked for seeds in a few local stores, but was disappointed by the offerings there.
2. Harvest something: again, not so much here this week.
3. Preserve something: dehydrated nine pounds of carrots, a head of celery, celery leaves, and some cabbage.
4. Store something: soy sauce and mung beans from the local Asian grocery store; more water in reused plastic bottles and jugs.
5. Manage reserves: went through bags of carrots, onions, and potatoes to remove any going bad.
6. Cook something new: tried a new pad thai recipe; made whole wheat apple cinnamon muffins.
7. Prepped something: further decluttered my apartment, and especially the kitchen (so much easier to cook and keep clean now!); picked up a good-sized cast iron dutch oven on clearance and two more wool blankets from the thrift store.
8. Learned a new skill: didn't learn anything new, but I have been working on my sewing skills.
9. Worked on community food security: talked to some friends about Peak Oil and food issues (although I'm not sure how effective this was).
10. Reduced waste: left out cleaning supplies (from my houseguest, which I won't use) in the building's laundry room for someone else; reused old pots for plants on the patio; saving egg cartons to use to start seedlings in the spring; dehydrated foods rather than throwing them out before heading home for Christmas.
11. Regenerated: put more donations aside for Goodwill.
2. Harvest something: again, not so much here this week.
3. Preserve something: dehydrated nine pounds of carrots, a head of celery, celery leaves, and some cabbage.
4. Store something: soy sauce and mung beans from the local Asian grocery store; more water in reused plastic bottles and jugs.
5. Manage reserves: went through bags of carrots, onions, and potatoes to remove any going bad.
6. Cook something new: tried a new pad thai recipe; made whole wheat apple cinnamon muffins.
7. Prepped something: further decluttered my apartment, and especially the kitchen (so much easier to cook and keep clean now!); picked up a good-sized cast iron dutch oven on clearance and two more wool blankets from the thrift store.
8. Learned a new skill: didn't learn anything new, but I have been working on my sewing skills.
9. Worked on community food security: talked to some friends about Peak Oil and food issues (although I'm not sure how effective this was).
10. Reduced waste: left out cleaning supplies (from my houseguest, which I won't use) in the building's laundry room for someone else; reused old pots for plants on the patio; saving egg cartons to use to start seedlings in the spring; dehydrated foods rather than throwing them out before heading home for Christmas.
11. Regenerated: put more donations aside for Goodwill.
Friday, December 12, 2008
The decluttering saga
It's been a busy week, and my apartment shows it. Or, at least, that's what I tell myself. However, I've been realising recently that having too much stuff makes it harder for me to keep my place, although not always in the ways that I expect.
Sure, having too much stuff means it's difficult to find places for things and get them away. If there are less hangers than clothes or less shelf space than plates, then things don't get put away, and the mess grows.
At the same time, as the mess grows, it gets harder to put away those things that do have homes. When things have to be stepped over and reached around, it gets harder to put everything away, and the mess grows still more.
However, having a lot of stuff also means that it's easier for me to not do the tasks that I need to do. With more clothes than I need it's easier to not do the laundry, since I don't need to do it to ensure I have clothes in the morning. With a lot of dishes, there's no need to wash the dirty ones since clean ones are still available for use. This really came into focus tonight when I came across a container of cutlery set aside by a houseguest that I didn't know about. It was so moldy and so stinky that I wound up having to bleach the whole thing. I realised, as I was elbow-deep in bleach water, that I had far too much to clean and, if I didn't have so much, maybe I would have missed those dishes and cleaned them earlier.
While I'm trying to make sure I have a bit of a stockpile of things on hand, I need to balance this need with the stuff that I have. The truth is, I do have a lot of stuff that I don't need, and that I doubt will come in handy even if TEOTWAWKI arrives. So, once I was done cleaning my stinky dishes, I started getting rid of stuff from the kitchen. I got rid of a whole bunch of mis-matched cutlery (especially the most stupid-tiny tea spoons that I've ever seen), as well as a set of Christmas cookie cutters. I also set aside 12 sets of boring and really cheap ikea cutlery only to be used when I have potlucks (and possibly to be gotten rid of soon, really), and left myself fibe sets of nice (albeit a bit mismatched) silverware - four for home, and one to leave on campus - to use for everyday.
I'm hoping to use a similar appraoch on the rest of my stuff. While I'd like to get rid of as much as I can that I don't need, I'm hoping to take the extra things that I want to hold onto and set them aside. This way, they're there if they're needed, but they're not cluttering up my immediate living space, getting in my way, and allowing me to go far too long without dealing with things that should probably be dealt with. Next stop? My bedroom closet, and the too-many sweaters that it holds.
For those who are interest, one thing that I've done is to frame a print-out of this freebie posterfrom ReadyMade, designed to, "eeimagine the populist poster art of the first Great Depression" (interesting mention of "first" there). It's not much, I suppose, but it's a nice reminder all the same.
Sure, having too much stuff means it's difficult to find places for things and get them away. If there are less hangers than clothes or less shelf space than plates, then things don't get put away, and the mess grows.
At the same time, as the mess grows, it gets harder to put away those things that do have homes. When things have to be stepped over and reached around, it gets harder to put everything away, and the mess grows still more.
However, having a lot of stuff also means that it's easier for me to not do the tasks that I need to do. With more clothes than I need it's easier to not do the laundry, since I don't need to do it to ensure I have clothes in the morning. With a lot of dishes, there's no need to wash the dirty ones since clean ones are still available for use. This really came into focus tonight when I came across a container of cutlery set aside by a houseguest that I didn't know about. It was so moldy and so stinky that I wound up having to bleach the whole thing. I realised, as I was elbow-deep in bleach water, that I had far too much to clean and, if I didn't have so much, maybe I would have missed those dishes and cleaned them earlier.
While I'm trying to make sure I have a bit of a stockpile of things on hand, I need to balance this need with the stuff that I have. The truth is, I do have a lot of stuff that I don't need, and that I doubt will come in handy even if TEOTWAWKI arrives. So, once I was done cleaning my stinky dishes, I started getting rid of stuff from the kitchen. I got rid of a whole bunch of mis-matched cutlery (especially the most stupid-tiny tea spoons that I've ever seen), as well as a set of Christmas cookie cutters. I also set aside 12 sets of boring and really cheap ikea cutlery only to be used when I have potlucks (and possibly to be gotten rid of soon, really), and left myself fibe sets of nice (albeit a bit mismatched) silverware - four for home, and one to leave on campus - to use for everyday.
I'm hoping to use a similar appraoch on the rest of my stuff. While I'd like to get rid of as much as I can that I don't need, I'm hoping to take the extra things that I want to hold onto and set them aside. This way, they're there if they're needed, but they're not cluttering up my immediate living space, getting in my way, and allowing me to go far too long without dealing with things that should probably be dealt with. Next stop? My bedroom closet, and the too-many sweaters that it holds.
For those who are interest, one thing that I've done is to frame a print-out of this freebie posterfrom ReadyMade, designed to, "eeimagine the populist poster art of the first Great Depression" (interesting mention of "first" there). It's not much, I suppose, but it's a nice reminder all the same.
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