I give thanks

© Poppy Fogler

[Post updated 6:45 p.m. 11/25/10]

Today didn't turn out as planned. After shopping, baking and cooking with joyful anticipation all week, one of us got sick. Too sick to drive. We were unable to make the sixty mile trek to our daughter's home for Thanksgiving. There is a lot more to it, but this was just one of a series of events that soured the day for three of the five families expecting to feast, laugh and play together. Like the card says, I really wanted to play with them today.

Stuff happens. We'll get over it. Here at home, we ate chicken soup from the homemade stock I made earlier in the week for today's gravy, and we'll eat ice cream for dessert later. But I'm sad tonight, because I let my daughter and her family down, and because my other daughter and her family spent much of the day in the emergency room after her father-in-law pulled cartilage from his ribs in a fall. They missed the fun too.

Still, there is much for which I am grateful. So I'm adding to this post, written days ago and published earlier. The truth is, crap happens, and sometimes it happens on the holidays. We didn't have anything like an Ordinary day, but building a world like the Village happens more in these moments, perhaps, than in the easy ones. Gratitude remains. I continue to give thanks

• For unknown blessings already on the way
• For the relative good health of my family and loved ones
• For each and every one of you my readers
• For every reader comment that encourages me to keep working, keep speaking out, keep finding ways to live more consciously
• For every reader comment that challenges my views and shows me one more way to perceive any given thing
• For the bounty of love in my life
• For blue skies, sunshine and gardens full of flowers, trees, fruits and vegetables
• For rain, wind and cold and the good they bring in new growth, soil transfer, fresh air, and unlocked seeds
• For laughter and the ability to laugh in the face of peril
• For the bounty of food my family enjoyed today, wherever we sat down to table
• For the extended family with whom I have the joy of sharing the bounty, if not today, on many other occasions
• and for people like Representative Inglis, who went on record with this.

Representative Inglis (R) attacks GOP on climate change

I'd call it more gentle persuasion than an attack, but I'm grateful nonetheless. I take hope, knowing that one person on the other side of the aisle knows the truth and is willing to talk about it. Sure, he can talk about it now because he's a lame duck and hasn't anything to lose any more. Maybe in speaking what so many others on his side of the aisle surely know, despite their posturing, he will somehow get through their numb skulls and others won't wait until they're on the way out to go on the record.

I give thanks for Representative Inglis, for you, for my family and loved one, for the richness of my life, for whatever slim bits of grace I manage in adversity, and for forgiveness when I don't manage to find enough.

What are you grateful for today?

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We make peace in a million small ways every day.

All text and images, unless otherwise noted, copyright L. Kathryn Grace. All rights reserved.

The red cave

I have dreamed this cave before, its dry, orange walls rising high, wide and deep around me. I have dreamed this old woman before, one of the grandmothers, her face round and brown, soft and shining in the light. Always I want to touch her skin, finer than silk. I have dreamed that man, too, sitting in the distance, his long, white hair held from his face with a thin, cloth band.

In this dream, I do not see the implement with which he works. He is half turned from me. But the woman, in her soft, flowing skirt, is near. I watch the rise and fall of her chest, hear the suh-shu of her skirt on the stone floor as she bends and turns. I raise my hand in greeting and realize that this time she does not see me. They seem unaware of my presence, these people who have given me succor so many times in my life, in this dream.

The grandmother sits at her low fire, patting a white corn tortilla, making it small and flat and round. She lays it on a rock nestled among the coals, just large enough to hold it. When it stops sizzling, she flips it with her hands. I do not see her fingers touch the disk, so quick she is, but I hear the sizzle and pop as it slaps the rock. When the tortilla is crispy brown around the edges, she picks it from the rock, slipping it from hand to hand till it cools a bit, then uses it to scoop a bit of mushy meal from a small bowl warming near the coals.

With the other hand, she drops some herbs into a cup full of liquid near the fire, picks it up and carries both to the man lying on a stone bench. I recognize this bench. I have lain just so myself many times. The first time I dreamed this cave, I was lying on that bench. This old woman and another fed me mush, dripped warm, fragrant teas into my parched mouth, and held me in their arms until I was well and no longer sobbing.

Today, the old woman ministers to her charge alone. They are flesh and blood. I, merely a ghost, watching. The light flares and I see clearly the man lying on the bench. He is wearing a dark blue, nearly black, suit and a red tie. The man is George W. Bush. He is pale. His breath is shallow. The old woman drips the tea gently onto his cracked, dry lips. Like a little bird, he opens his mouth. She squeezes more of the liquid onto his tongue. His Adams apple bobs rapidly as she gently drops a bit more and a bit more of the soothing fluid.

I know the comfort of that tea, the gradual return to consciousness. I smell the mint and fennel and something bitter I do not recognize, and I find myself opening my mouth as if to receive even as I watch the grandmother set the bowl aside and pick up the waiting tortilla.

Gently, she squeezes a little of the mush to his lips. He tastes it carefully, then greedily as she pushes a little more into his mouth. When she has ministered the last of the tea and mush, she eats the tortilla herself, chewing slowly, her eyes closed, moving no other muscle. Then she raises her hands to the former president's chest and touches him.

This touch, too, I know, for I have felt it many times. I know the heat that comes from her hands, how it joins with the heat of my own body and spreads, upward through my throat, into the bones of my face, behind my eyes, into my brain, warming my skull; how it spreads into my lungs and down through the organs of my body, sets the marrow of my bones nearly on fire all the way to my toes. I know the gentle persuasion of this heat, how it heals my body and my soul from the inside out.

I know the release of breath escaping the president. I look for the smile on his face, that small half smile, the Mona Lisa smile, and yes, there it is. Not the smirk of 9-11, that smile he could not stop from spreading on his face as he addressed us that horrible day. This is the smile of peace, the smile of one who feels so loved in this moment it would be impossible to feel any thing else.

I release my own breath--a huge cleansing breath. What is this man doing in my dream?

Without acknowledging my presence, without so much as a nod or a gesture, the old woman, the grandmother, shows me the rest of the the cave. Everywhere are stone benches carved from this self same rock. On each bench reclines a world leader. Some, like the former president, are living today. Others, like his nemesis, Sadaam Hussein, are long dead. But here, all are living, and all are receiving the same tender succor and care.

Pay attention, I hear, not with my ears, but in my head. Pay attention. We love you all equally. Those who do evil, those who do good. We love you each as tenderly. We care for you each as gently as our own babes.

I see their faces, briefly. Many of them. People I fear, people I know to have done the most heinous of evils. A couple of people from my own life, who have harmed me along the way, lie here, reaching their little beaks to the moist herbs. Members of Congress who seem to care nothing for human tragedy, human suffering are here. Lobbyists who stuff millions of dollars into the lawmakers' pockets as we might stuff a five dollar bill into ours, lie here.

Newscasters who distort the truth and those who tell egregious lies are here. People who fund projects designed to coerce us to believe there is no threat to our way of life, that climate change is not happening, that it will not destroy us, and that if it is, there is nothing we can do about it, lie here. People who coerce and cajole us into wanting and buying things we don't need, to forget that it is our actions, our consumption that puts the world at peril, are here. The preacher who wanted to burn the Koran, and the Ayotollahs who plan to stone a woman to death who may or may not have committed adultery--they are here, each tended carefully by a grandmother, gently ministering healing herbs and the healing touch.

Pay attention. This is what saves human kind. This is the work that restores the Earth. Find a way to love.

Awake, my body glows with the warmth of coals spreading from my heart to my brain and down to my toes.

I will not question the wisdom of the grandmothers who speak to me in a dream. I will find a way to forgive and to love.

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We make peace in a million small ways every day.

All text and images, unless otherwise noted, copyright L. Kathryn Grace. All rights reserved.

Zero waste challenge: Easy plastic-free crunch, yum and crackle when the game is on

Roasted sweet dumpling squash
© L Kathryn Grace

The game is on. It's Saturday, the day before Halloween. The two year old is coming over, Game 3 of the World Series starts in a couple of hours, and we expect to munch between yelling ourselves hoarse. That means bags of chips and tubs of dips, right? Not exactly.

See that sweet dumpling squash? It's easy game buffet fare--or a supper side dish--that is scrumptious, wholesome, locally grown if you're lucky, in season right now and does not come packaged in plastic. I've included the super simple recipe below.

For crunch, I roasted the squash seeds, baked up some sesame seed crackers, pretty much the same recipe as reported here. This time I rolled them super thin, barely 1/16 inch, brushed the dough lightly with water before scoring, sprinkled liberally with raw sesame seeds, and pressed them in gently.

It took an hour to make the crackers, start to finish, not much longer than a run to the store. Soon as they came out, I upped the oven temp and popped in the squash, saving having to heat the oven twice.

The homemade crackers were downright delicious dipped in fresh guacamole. The middle grandchild was visiting, and she and I had fun mashing the avocados and squeezing the lime. When the game started, we all sat down together and noshed crispy sesame crackers and guac while the Giants got whupped, as we used to say.

Was it worth it? Probably a wash, cost-wise, but times past, we would have bought two kinds of chips and two or three tubs of dip, had none of the fun with the grandbabe getting ready, and those chips and processed dips would have set in our tummies like leaded goo. Instead, we were energized, full and happy.We had fun, despite the loss, snacked finely, and didn't add a single plastic container to our "reusables" collection or a box or a bag to our recycle and trash bins.

Three easy recipes for game-day fun

I'm sorry I didn't take a picture of the guac and crackers. We couldn't wait, but here's our simple, child-easy recipe.

Guacamole

Ingredients:
2 ripe, soft-to-touch, medium avocados
1 ripe lime
Dash salt
Twist fresh ground pepper

Directions:
Adult: Split avocados in half lengthwise. Child: Turn each half upside down over a bowl and squeeze the skin till the pulp and pit fall into the container. (Kids love this part.) Fish out the pit with a spoon and compost or sprout for growing fun (video).

Adult: Cut a lime in half. Child: Squeeze the juice all over the avocados. An old-fashioned squeezer with a pointed, ribbed cone on top, set over the bowl, is easier for little hands than other types.

Child (adult can help, of course): Add a sprinkle of salt and a grind of pepper, mash till its gorgeous, smooth and creamy, lick the forks before you toss them into the sink, and giggle together. Serve with "guackers." (See link above.)

For a yummy, almost as easy hot treat to go with your crunchy snack, roast two sweet dumpling squashes. They're in season now and a make a colorful plate on a chilly autumn day.

Roasted Sweet Dumpling Squash

Ingredients:

Two sweet dumpling squashes
1-1/3 t butter
1 T each raisins and dried cranberries (optional)

Directions:
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Wash, then carefully cut the squashes in half lengthwise with a sharp knife. This was tricky for me, as I don't have a lot of strength left in my hands and those buggers were tough, so be careful!

Scrape out the seeds and stringy mass with a spoon. Set aside.

Place the squashes cut side up in a pie plate or other shallow pan. Dot the inside of each quarter with 1/3 teaspoon butter. Add a few raisins or dried cranberries if you like a little sweetness with your squash. We didn't this time, but we may next.

Bake uncovered thirty minutes. When the timer goes off, pierce with fork. If tender, remove from oven and serve. If not quite tender, return and bake a bit longer. Serve with crunchy roasted squash seeds on the side and a plate of fresh fruits, if you can wait and do it properly.

Roasted squash seeds

Roasted sweet dumpling squash seeds
© L Kathryn Grace

While the squashes are baking, clean the seeds from the stringy stuff. I find this easiest in a small bowl of water. Under water, rub the seeds away from the strings. Compost the stringy stuff and pour the nutrient-rich water, which is now a gorgeous pumpkin orange color, into your frozen vegetable cooking water, if you save yours for making soup. (We pour leftover bits of vegetables and vegetable cooking water, when cool, into a container in the freezer. When it's full, we thaw it and use it for soup stock.)

Rinse the seeds, drain them a bit, pat them dry with a clean tea towel, place them on a small cookie sheet or pie plate and pop into the oven during the last 8-12 minutes with the squash. When the squash timer goes off, the seeds should be well toasted. Remove from oven and sprinkle lightly with salt to taste.

The squash was as delicious as it looks. It didn't make it to the living room with the crackers and guacamole. We ate it standing up in the kitchen right away, blowing on each bite to cool it. Our granddaughter loved it as much as we did, oohing and ahhing and "Yum!"-ing over every bite. We had two cups left, which we'll chop coarsely and add to a stir fry with bean sprouts, and other veggies for dinner tomorrow night. More end-of-summer goodness for our taste buds and bellies, and all easy on the pocketbook.

That's one way we had a lot of family fun and together time while making conscious choices this week. I know Wanda made cold frames last week, and Deb struggled between the pull of nature to go outside and play and the pull inside to create something new. What were you up to?

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We make peace in a million small ways every day.

All text and images, unless otherwise noted, copyright L. Kathryn Grace. All rights reserved.

Zero waste challenge: Yogurt made easy

Homemade yogurt and mother
© L. Kathryn Grace

We're pitching the plastic yogurt tubs at last

Finally! No more plastic yogurt tubs coming into the house. I know, this may seem a little odd after extolling the (relative) virtues of the Stonyfield multipacks made from corn the other day, but it was in researching that post that I found the first easy recipe for delicious (and hopefully no-fail) yogurt.

For months I've experimented with various homemade yogurt schemes, with more and less success. Mostly less. Today, near perfect yogurt, super easy, no mess, no fuss, and no special equipment.

Sure, here in the Bay Area we can buy the very mild St. Benoit yogurt in returnable glass jars--when we can get it. Cost is about the same as a quart of raw milk, but it's not always available. About half the time we have to choose between not having yogurt on hand or buying it in plastic tubs. What's more, St. Benoit is made from pasteurized, albeit local, organic milk. We wanted to take advantage of the raw milk available to us from locally-pastured cows, and I like my yogurt on the tangy side, something St. Benoit doesn't do.

I needed a dependable homemade yogurt alternative, one I could share with others trying to reduce their plastic use as well. So when Beth Terry at Fake Plastic Fish included her homemade yogurt recipe in her post about Stonyfield Farms new PLA cups the other day, I decided to give it a try.

Greek or plain yogurt, it's all good

Beth got her recipe from Melanie Rinner of Bean Sprouts, whose method is for Greek yogurt, but the culturing process is the same either way. Because the yogurt I had on hand was almost a week old, I used a commercial culture I bought a while back as a backup. The brand is Yogourmet. They expect you to use it in their yogurt maker, which I did not want to buy. It's made of plastic.

For a year or two now, I've hunted for an incubator like the one I had when my babies were little--a stainless steel tub that held six pints, or three quart jars, and kept an even temperature perfect for culturing yogurt. Nowhere to be found. All yogurt makers I found on the market are made of plastic, even the versions clad in stainless steel to match your trendy kitchen decor.

Sans easy-to-use maker, I experimented with the cooler-covered-in-blankets method. Every time, the yogurt turned out runny. Fine if you like Kefir-style, drinkable yogurt, but we prefer a creamy, custardy texture. Plus, this is a time-consuming process. I didn't like the bulky mess in my bedroom, which was the only place in the house with room for the container to sit undisturbed.

Cooler with yogurt-filled jars in warm water bath
© L. Kathryn Grace

Cooler covered in three layers of blankets
© L. Kathryn Grace

Yesterday, thanks to Beth and Melanie, I finally found the right combination of culture and method. What's more, it's easy-peasy. Incubate in a thermos, transfer to glass jars when the yogurt is the consistency you like, refrigerate to chill, and enjoy.

Worked like magic. I heated the milk to barely boiling, cooled it to just under 122 degrees F, stirred in the yogurt culture according to instructions, and poured it all into my faithful stainless steel, wide mouth Stanley thermos. Eight hours later, I popped the lid to check, and we had beautiful, creamy yogurt at exactly the texture we like.

I scooped the yogurt into two glass jars, one to save the mother culture for the next batch, the other to eat, and popped them into the refrigerator to chill. The transfer from thermos to jar for chilling did change the consistency. Disturbing the yogurt before it is chilled causes it to curdle a bit.

Next morning, we couldn't wait to strain for Greek yogurt. We gobbled nearly the whole pint for breakfast. The taste is marvelous--tangy, with a hint of citrus.This is the first yogurt I have ever enjoyed straight from the jar with no honey, no fruit, no sweetener of any kind. Delicious! Today I'll pick up more raw milk and make another batch. I'll let you know how it goes.

That's my conscious living tip for the day, part of our personal household zero waste challenge. What are you up to this week? Do you make your own yogurt? Have you found an easy recipe you like? I invite you to share it here or post a link to your recipe page.

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  Disclosure:  If you follow the Amazon link above and purchase something, it is possible I will earn a few pennies. What a thrill that would be.

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We make peace in a million small ways every day.

All text and images, unless otherwise noted, copyright L. Kathryn Grace. All rights reserved.

Can you imagine living in a world that is just, sustainable, and fulfilling?

The year is 2014. A major shift has occurred, transforming life as we know it. Today, the world is on track like never before toward supporting a just, sustainable and fulfilling life for all. Those three things. What is your every day like in this new world?

I've been wrestling with this question since becoming involved with Four Years.Go., the campaign to create a shift, in four short years, that will set the world on a track toward a just, sustainable and fulfilling world for all. The question many of us are asking each other, as we work toward this goal is: What will the world be like in four years if we have achieved this shift?

So I'm asking you. There are lots of ways to answer the question. We can start by answering other questions. What would a typical day in your life be like if you were living sustainably, if world leaders, national leaders in every country, and individuals everywhere were working toward justice for all, and if your own life were completely fulfilling?

What would you have to do between now and December 31, 2014, to achieve these goals in your life and to help achieve them in the world? Would it be worth it to you to begin today? What first steps would you take? What next steps would you plan for, and when would you be ready to take them?

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We make peace in a million small ways every day.

All text and images, unless otherwise noted, copyright L. Kathryn Grace. All rights reserved.

Three wins on the way to becoming a zero waste household

Over the last few months, I've promised to get back to you about my search for a) witch hazel in a glass bottle; b) an alternative to the leave-on shower spray I'd been using; and c) toothpaste that did not come in a plastic tube. Well, bless my half empty trash bin, I found answers.

My homemade toner kit
© L. Kathryn Grace

Back in June, the big, plastic bottle of witch hazel I’d been using to make my own gentle skin toner had finally run dry after two plus years. I searched the world wide web and found not a single source for the stuff in a glass bottle. I was just about ready to order the herb and distill my own when I found a better solution all round, one I'd known and practiced for years as a teenager and young adult: Splash cold tap water on my face.

So simple! Nothing refreshes and closes the pores like cold water, and if you're lucky enough to live where the water comes really cold from your tap, why bother paying for expensive designer toners? I don't know why I stopped using this method in the first place. Someone talked me into believing I needed bottled goods to be beautiful, I suppose. (No wise cracks from the peanut gallery. You know who you are.)

Vinegar/water leave on shower
spray in reused bottle
© L. Kathryn Grace

Later, in War on Garbage skirmishes: Some wins, some losses, I mentioned I hunted an alternative to the leave-on tub, tile and shower spray I loved. Enter vinegar and water, half and half. (Thanks for the tip to dilute, Mrs Green!) Yes! That's it! Vinegar and water.

I've trialed it for nearly three months and see no discoloration to my tile or bathroom fixtures. I’d still go with caution, if I were you. Vinegar is mildly acidic. I’ll let you know in another three months or so if I’ve noticed any change. One thing is certain: It works better than the expensive vinegar-based stuff I’d been buying every three or four weeks! Spray it on, climb out of the shower, dress and walk away. The vinegar scent dissipates quickly.

One HUGE caution: NEVER NEVER NEVER mix vinegar with any product containing chlorine bleach (pdf file). If you use a tub cleanser such as Bar Keepers Friend or a mildew reducer containing chlorine bleach, be careful not to use vinegar until all traces of the bleach have had time to dissipate. The two chemicals interact and create a lethal gas that is odorless and colorless. Deadly.

Tom's of Maine
© L. Kathryn Grace

In No More War!, I told you I was determined not to buy another plastic toothpaste tube. I tried my grandmother's poor-woman's baking soda and salt method. Ouch! That left my gums stinging. Plus, I discovered that dental hygienists advise against baking soda or salt as they are too abrasive. I hunted for other homemade recipes, all of which required some ingredients that are shipped in plastic.

Then, doh!, I remembered Beth Terry at Fake Plastic Fish is way ahead of me. What does she do? She buys toothpaste in an aluminum tube! So I nosed around, and sure enough, a drugstore up the street carries Tom's of Maine Clean & Gentle Care line, all in aluminum tubes. (I know. I know. They’re owned by Colgate-Palmolive now, but what’s a girl to do?) Not a perfect solution, but a good interim one until I find a workable recipe for homemade that meets all my needs.

Got tips to share?

What about you? What new tips have you discovered lately for reducing, reusing and/or recycling?

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We make peace in a million small ways every day.

All text and images, unless otherwise noted, copyright L. Kathryn Grace. All rights reserved.

Zero Waste Challenge: No more plastic bread bags!

Crescent Buns
From Healthy Bread in 5 Minutes a Day
© L Kathryn Grace

When we started eliminating plastic from our waste and recycling bins, one of the biggest challenges was the bread sack. Luckily, we have a couple of handy options for handmade, unbagged artisan breads from our local grocer. They're good, but often stale, and we cannot always get the whole grain, organic versions. No one nearby carries the English Muffins we like.

Ever since Mother Earth News offered a deal on Artisan Breads in Five Minutes a Day, I've wanted a copy, but I didn't buy it because it was all about white flour. Now the authors have brought out Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day, using the same tested techniques, and I'm baking up an organic, whole grain storm.

It really is as easy as five minutes a day to keep fresh, wholesome, delicious breads on hand--and NO plastic bags! We're eating healthier because we can choose exactly what goes into our breads. What's more, the book's Master Recipe uses no oil or fat whatsoever, and the breads are eat-more-now scrumptious.

Yum buns for brunch

Of course, there are plenty of ways to add all kinds of calorie hopping goodies--the cinnamon crescent buns above, which I adapted from one of the recipes, are one example--so we're taking it slow and easy, but on the weekend, when we want a goody, watch out! It's not uncommon to spend twenty dollars on pastries of a weekend morning at our local boulangerie. Now I can pull my sponge from the refrigerator, shape a loaf or buns in a few minutes, let them rest for forty to ninety minutes, depending on the recipe, bake for twenty to thirty and voilà! Yum buns for brunch. No waxy paper bags to compost or pitch and almost no fuss. In fact, I who have never considered myself a cook, feel heavenly domestic.

Who knew living consciously could be so much fun?

This eating healthy, living consciously stuff can be a lot of fun. It gives us the opportunity to build so much goodness into our lives, like the joy of teaching a little one to make "guackers" from scratch. Plus, think of the money we save. Why I can buy enough stone ground whole wheat organic flour to make many loaves and buns for little more than the price of a single artisan loaf of dubious freshness at the grocery.

On my personal Zero Waste challenge: No more plastic bread sacks.  ☑

Your turn

Are you considering challenging yourself to achieve zero waste? Have you already begun reducing? What's your latest discovery in the path to using less, wasting less?

Disclosure:  If you follow one of the Amazon book links above and purchase something, it is possible I will earn a few pennies, and what a thrill that would be. Alternatively, you could check out a copy from your local public library and test cook for a couple of weeks.

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We make peace in a million small ways every day.

All text and images, unless otherwise noted, copyright L. Kathryn Grace. All rights reserved.

War on Garbage: It's the little things

Stored takeout containers
© L. Kathryn Grace

It never ceases to amaze me how much throw-away junk we bring into the house. True, we're cutting back. Because of our war on garbage, we're thinking more than ever before we purchase. Still.

Last night, neither of us felt like cooking. We don't order in much any more, but we made that choice. Two more plastic hot food containers to add to our collection. We find all sorts of uses for them. You can just make out one example on the bottom shelf in the image above, but we always have three stacks in the cupboard. Eventually, one way and another, one by one, they'll chip, crack, become irremediably filled with paint or homemade Play-Dough residue and end up in the recycling bin. Fail!

Friday night, we had the grandbaby over. She's two now, and we took her to the neighborhood restaurant for pizza. We like this place because they use organic ingredients whenever they can get them, and they're kid-friendly. We bought two small pizzas. I know, I know, but we don't like the same toppings or sauces. We like leftovers. We never know which pizza the little one will choose. Then, because I forgot to bring foil and a bag to wrap and carry the leftovers home, we ended up with two take-home boxes. I would have crammed it all into one box, but again I neglected to tell the wait staff, and they brought back two. Fail!

But wait! There's good news!

Do compost poster
Courtesy Recology SF

First: I've been doing some research and learned that San Francisco's compost program includes a whole lot of stuff I was tossing in the trash. We can send those pizza boxes and the wax paper liners in their bottoms to the compost, along with waxy milk cartons, butter boxes, and much of our bathroom tissue waste (the dry stuff, that goes in the waste basket anyway). Why they even take cat hair!* Better.

Second: It's been three weeks plus since we last tied off and emptied the bag in the small kitchen trash can. Thanks mostly to living in this city, with its zero waste goal, today the bin has plenty of head room for more trash. That's 2.3 gallons of landfill waste--once a week just one month ago--pared down to once in three weeks and counting. Big win!

Third: Our commitment to buying only in bulk when available is paying off, but not perfectly--yet. No new cereal boxes or sugar containers have come into the house. One of us bought a couple of boxes of Annie's organic macaroni and cheese--a favorite of the grandkids when they visit. It doesn't take that much longer to make homemade, which we like so much better, so we need to make an adjustment. Better, but plenty of room to improve.

Fourth, and this is the most fun: With fruit season in full swing, I bought a half flat of strawberries from our local farmer's market and made jam for the first time in decades. The berries that tasted best that day, Chandler, were expensive, $5/quart, and by the time I boiled the fruit down to make jam with no added pectin, the eight-ounce jars cost about $5.79 each. My labor was not factored in, so true cost is even higher. Coincidentally, the 12-ounce jar of imported organic jam in our refrigerator has a $5.79 sticker. (Why is it so difficult to get organic jam made locally?)

$5.79 jar of strawberry jam
© L. Kathryn Grace

Now I know why the organic jam and jelly purveyor (Blue Chair--snap some if you live here and get the chance) at the same farmer's market is charging $11 for a 6-ounce jar! Homemade is not exactly a bargain. Perhaps I can improve the net cost of raw ingredients by more judicious shopping. Meanwhile, we avoided overseas shipping. One upside.

Then there's the really big downside. To cut costs, and ostensibly keep prices down, Ball (who absorbed Kerr, so there's no longer competition) now shrink-wraps its partially-boxed jars. We gave away our canning jars years ago, and had to buy new. Sure, I could have tried to find them on Craigslist or Freecycle, but I would not know how they had been handled. Our food safety and health depend on jars that have been handled carefully, so we bought new. We'll take good care of them and use them many times over. Meanwhile, I've written the Ball people and asked them to return to boxing without plastic. If you have the time, I encourage you to lend your voice to mine. I'm sure we're not alone in this request.

Not to despair. There is another upside to making our own jam: Every time we open a jar, we will be omitting a made-for-single-use, shipped and re-shipped jar and lid from our recycling bin. Sure, we use the jars again, but they pile up quickly, and we don't have the storage space for a lot of jars that are not of canning quality. Too many go to recycling. I'm calling this one a partial win.

That's the story on the war on garbage this week. A few steps forward, a few back, but making progress on the road to conscious living.

*UPDATE 6/1/10: Sadly, I was mistaken about the cat hair.


What are you up to on the eco-front?

What's your story this week? How are you handling your waste challenges? If you have a garden, I'd love to hear what's up, what's ripe, what tastes fabulous, and just maybe, what you're preserving and how.

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We make peace in a million small ways every day.

All text and images, unless otherwise noted, copyright L. Kathryn Grace. All rights reserved.

Conscious Living: Taking action is the Ordinary thing to do

• Food safety bill
• GMO contamination
• Toxic sludge
• Climate change
• Save the oceans/Save the whales
• Hunger/Poverty

Watching the headlines each day, it's easy to feel overwhelmed by the poverty, rage and violence in the world. Building a world that is fair and just, a world like Ordinary, takes attention and action, attention I don't always have at the end of the day when my brain feels like mush on a centrifuge.

Sure, I opt in to dozens of feeds from organizations I trust to monitor issues like the ones in the box above. The downside is that my inbox is filled with so many pleas for help that I cannot possibly address them all. So on the weekend, when my brain is high on exercise endorphins and rest, I pick one or two that have come to a head in state or federal government, sometimes at the local level too, research all sides till I think I understand them fairly well, make my decision, and call or write the appropriate lawmakers.

Today's Action: Protecting our food supply

There's a lot of buzz in my inbox about food safety, particularly getting Congress to act to protect you and me, the consumer, better while also protecting the small, local, organic farmer. Some time ago, the U.S. House passed a food safety reform bill. The Senate has one, too, The Sustainable Agriculture and FDA Food Safety Reform Bill (Senate Bill 510), but they're dragging their feet getting it to the floor for a vote.

This bill would give the FDA power and teeth to shut down a peanut plant, for example, that knowingly distributes contaminated peanut butter, before it kills nine people.

Congress intends to fund the program with fees, wherein lies much of the controversy. Small farmers, especially organic farmers, say the $500 annual fee, plus the additional record keeping and testing would put them out of business. To address this issue, Consumers Union advocates changing the fee structure from one size fits all (after all, Big Ag and Big Food can easily comply with a tiny $500 annual fee) to a sliding scale. CU also addresses the issue of small farms who sell directly to the consumer.

A sliding scale of fees with very large facilities being charged more than very small ones would be more fair to small facilities ... Food processing facilities that sell at least half their production direct to the consumer are already classified by FDA as retailers and so would not be covered by this legislation, which addresses farms and processors In addition, the House bill appropriately exempts food sold direct to the consumer (i.e., at a farm stand) or to a restaurant or grocery store from the tracing provisions. ... In fact the House bill calls on FDA "to take into consideration, consistent with ensuring enforceable public health protection, the impact on small scale and diversified farms, and on wildlife habitat, conservation practices, watershed protection efforts, and organic production methods."

Consumers Union

I used Consumers Union's Take Action page to send my message to Congress on SB 510. I hope to address one or two of the other issues on the list above before the weekend ends.

Of course, there are myriad ways to take action. Writing letters is just one. I'd love to hear how you are taking action this week. Doesn't matter how small a step it is, and if it's a doozie, let's hear that too!

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We make peace in a million small ways every day.

All text and images, unless otherwise noted, copyright L. Kathryn Grace. All rights reserved.