Today's post is just a mish-mash of stuff that I am doing/reading/liking these days. No deep introspection, just sharing!
Blogs & Pages from people I don't know, but kinda wish I did
I currently have a blogcrush on Siriously Delicious. Since Allie hasn't posted anything on Hyperbole and a Half since October 2011 (I know, she who lives in glass blog shouldn't throw stones), I needed a new blogcrush. Siriously Delicious is it. She's funny, she makes delicious food that makes me half think about cooking like a proper adult and she just finished a 3 day baking stint. Yum!
Parenting Illustrated with Crappy Pictures is also one of my new favorites. Every time I log onto this blog I find myself clicking through and nodding along with her posts because it is eerily similar to my life. I swear she lives in my head. I also find myself quoting "Kids wake-up with energy. Kids wake-up with loudness." quite frequently.
This year we're giving Square Foot Gardening a whirl. We shall see how that all goes. I have this worry that because we're actually trying to be knowledgeable about our garden and not just throwing seedlings in willy nilly, our garden will not grow this year. I am, however, super excited about my seeds from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds.
Blogs & Pages from moms I actually know:
Raising my Rainbow is a super awesome mom's adventures in raising her gender nonconforming son. She's witty and smart and deals with touchy, difficult situations in brutally honest, sometimes painful and often hilarious ways.
My friend Kristi not only has her wonderful blog Mommy Crib Notes, but has recently become the editor of Milkshake Kids which is a FABULOUS resource for parents. Lots of great advice, information and suggestions for all things kid related. It is also focused on giving back, which is totally rad!
Little Man's God-Mama, Wendy, has an awesome online boutique called Petals and Panache where she sells her HANDMADE head wear. She somehow manages to produce beautiful work, market her product, sell
in both on-line and in-store boutiques AND she does this whilst two
adorable and energetic little girls are in her house. I'm not sure how
she does it! Seriously, this stuff is GORGEOUS. I am quite in love this and have been for quite some time, but haven't had any fancy occasions which merited such delightful hair accoutrement.
Last, but certainly not least, is Joy's Teaspoon nummy teas, and I'm not even a tea drinker. I highly recommend Emporer's 7 Treasures. It is delish. Not only does the proprietor Naomi sell amazing teas and spices, but she does it with the Earth in mind. That is something I can get behind!
Books and Such
At any one given time, I am "reading" about 3-10 books. I love books, I'm " invariably interested in so many things" so I'm usually trying to consume everything I can all at once. In a combination of paper books and Kindle/Nook books, here's what I'm reading right now.
(Disclaimer: I am now an Amazon Affiliate, so if you click on these links & buy, I get a small kick-back. That isn't why I'm posting about them, but I want to make sure you know!)
The Backyard Homestead -- Because in my mind, we're going to become Suburban Agriculturalists who live off of our tiny (someday) yard and/or garden plot. It is actually really interesting and has me jazzed to learn the art of canning and preserving my garden bounty this year!
The Urban Homestead -- The authors actually live in Los Angeles, so that is pretty inspiring, considering its proximity to where we live.
Pat Welsh's Southern California Organic Gardening -- it has been my go-to helper in the garden ever since I checked it out of the library last summer. Fret not, I returned that copy and bought one for my Kindle app.
Carrots Love Tomatoes: Secrets of Companion Planting for Successful Gardening -- I have been pouring over this book, trying to get the layout of the garden just right. At one point I, frustratedly, likened companion planting to those horrible logic questions on the GRE that I was crap at. "If carrots like tomatoes and tomatoes like onions and broccoli likes onions, but not tomatoes and you have a broccoli plant smack-dab in the middle of your plot, where do you plant the tomatoes?"
1-2-3 Magic -- Dr. Phelan's fairly no-nonsense, no yelling, no hitting guide for disciplining your unruly beasts. Once we get through it, we're gonna be champs! (We have been watching the DVD and Dr. Phelan is actually pretty funny!)
It Looked Different on the Model -- Laurie Notaro never fails to make me HOWL with laughter. I once made the mistake of reading one of her books on a plane and ended up looking like I was having convulsions whilst weeping because I was trying so hard to stifle my laughter.
I'm also simultaneously reading Sunset Magazine (this month is all about gardening) and Real Simple. Oh and I make time for the TV too... New Girl. You must watch it.
Okay, so that is what I'm diggin'...
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
Digital Mini-Break
For Easter weekend, the Cluttered Family took a quick jaunt up to the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains for a camping trip with my family. My mom, "Nema," and her husband, "Cowboy Grampa," own 40 acres of undeveloped land about 5 minutes away from the house where I grew up, so she had us all come up, pitch tents and have a grand old time.
My sister, Knittersister, and I have developed a policy of unplugging whilst camping-- even when we're somewhere like my mom's property which gets a solid cell phone signal. We like to pretend that we're in the middle of nowhere and that we can't be reached, so we do our best to not be in digital land. I don't think I saw Knittersister even pick up her phone all weekend. I, on the other hand, had my phone with me most of the time because I used it as my point & shoot camera (and to listen to my sweet jams whilst prepping lunch on Saturday), but I had switched it to airplane mode for the duration of the weekend.
And you know what? It was delightful.
There were no pings and beeps and sundry sounds to alert me that I had received a text message, facebook comment, email or voicemail. Once those stopped it was really easy to disengage from the digital world and engage in the present. I also discovered that there was nothing that happened in my digital world that couldn't wait until Sunday afternoon when I switched my phone off of airplane mode. Sure, my students didn't get an immediate response about what they'd missed when they skipped class on the Wednesday before Spring Break, but then again, they chose to skip class and wait over a week to contact me, so why should they be allowed to interrupt my perfectly lovely holiday weekend?
It has made me think that one of the best ways for me to combat my iPhone/social networking over-consumption would be to take frequent digital hiatuses where I turn on airplane mode and let the digital world take a back seat to the real world. I'm also curious to find out how others disconnect from the digital world in order to engage in the present. What do you do when it all becomes digitally too much?
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Why I Let My Boys Sleep with Us
I am not a bed sharer or your typical co-sleeper. I am a firm believer in the importance of children learning to fall asleep on their own & in their own beds. I let my babies CIO.
But I also let our boys crawl into bed with us in the wee hours of the morning. Six out of 7 days a week, you will find one or both of them in bed with us by 6 am. As much as I don't love the wake ups or the kicking & thrashing that often accompanies having two small potatoes in bed with us, I realize the window of time where they WANT to snuggle us is very small. I also realize that, as the mother of boys, the window of time where it is appropriate for them to lay their heads on my chest or for me to smother their little bodies in kisses is finite.
In a not so distant future, my boys will be big on-the-go teenagers and, eventually, well-adjusted men with rich, full lives and my role will be much smaller in their day to day lives. The lengthy cuddles, head to toe kisses and the feeling of their chubby little baby hands in mine will be a memory of a bygone era. Reposing in bed as a family on a Saturday morning will no longer happen. It will be a sweet memory for all of us to cherish, but no longer a reality.
There will come a day when I wake up and the space between Diesel and I is no longer filled with two sweet slumbering boys looking heartbreakingly beautiful, always reminding me that they are the single most perfect thing I have EVER created in my life. This thought creates in me a certain wistful sadness about the future. I am excited to see where my boys' lives take them and how they grow and what they become, but I wish I could slow time and keep them small just a bit longer. In some way, this is my way of postponing the inevitable for just a bit longer; capturing a special moment in time and holding it in my heart.
That is why I let my boys sleep with us.
And frankly, who wouldn't want to wake up to this?
But I also let our boys crawl into bed with us in the wee hours of the morning. Six out of 7 days a week, you will find one or both of them in bed with us by 6 am. As much as I don't love the wake ups or the kicking & thrashing that often accompanies having two small potatoes in bed with us, I realize the window of time where they WANT to snuggle us is very small. I also realize that, as the mother of boys, the window of time where it is appropriate for them to lay their heads on my chest or for me to smother their little bodies in kisses is finite.
In a not so distant future, my boys will be big on-the-go teenagers and, eventually, well-adjusted men with rich, full lives and my role will be much smaller in their day to day lives. The lengthy cuddles, head to toe kisses and the feeling of their chubby little baby hands in mine will be a memory of a bygone era. Reposing in bed as a family on a Saturday morning will no longer happen. It will be a sweet memory for all of us to cherish, but no longer a reality.
There will come a day when I wake up and the space between Diesel and I is no longer filled with two sweet slumbering boys looking heartbreakingly beautiful, always reminding me that they are the single most perfect thing I have EVER created in my life. This thought creates in me a certain wistful sadness about the future. I am excited to see where my boys' lives take them and how they grow and what they become, but I wish I could slow time and keep them small just a bit longer. In some way, this is my way of postponing the inevitable for just a bit longer; capturing a special moment in time and holding it in my heart.
That is why I let my boys sleep with us.
And frankly, who wouldn't want to wake up to this?
Friday, March 30, 2012
Everything in its Place
So the Cluttered House has a few problems.
In January, we packed up about half of our household so that we could put the Cluttered House up on the market. That means our awesome mail sorting system was packed up when we moved our pantry out of the house in order to make the dining room look better. We also packed up the odds and ends bowl, the storage area for Diesel's "stuff" and our dead battery bowl. These are all very important to keeping the clutter at bay on the entertainment center.
Our other issue is that Diesel and I have taken to sleeping in the living room. You see Duckie does not sleep well if we are in the room with him, and he wakes up Little Man when we try to put the two of them into the room they, in theory, share. In a final desperate act, Diesel and I gave up the comfort of our king sized memory foam bed for the relative comfort of our couches (we'd be sleeping on our air mattress, but that is packed up too).
Anyhoo, that leads to another problem: laundry. Oftentimes, we aren't able to tackle the laundry until after the boys go to sleep, but then, it leads to the problem of putting everything away. Sure, clothes are folded or on hangers, but then we can't go into either room to put the laundry away. So it ends up on the entertainment center.
That means our entertainment center, the first thing you see when you walk in the door, looks like this:
The upper exterior:
Here is the mail sorter. I didn't really get rid of much beyond the junk circulars because paying the bills is one of Diesel's jobs, so I didn't really know what needed to be filed and what needed to be paid. I just neatened it all up and we will go through it later this weekend.
I also created a basket to act as the "catch all" for the stuff that doesn't currently have a home, and the shoe box from Duckie's new shoes is making a hand-dandy dead battery storage area.
Of course, as soon as the kids were up, they were more than happy to undo the fruits of my labor!
In January, we packed up about half of our household so that we could put the Cluttered House up on the market. That means our awesome mail sorting system was packed up when we moved our pantry out of the house in order to make the dining room look better. We also packed up the odds and ends bowl, the storage area for Diesel's "stuff" and our dead battery bowl. These are all very important to keeping the clutter at bay on the entertainment center.
Our other issue is that Diesel and I have taken to sleeping in the living room. You see Duckie does not sleep well if we are in the room with him, and he wakes up Little Man when we try to put the two of them into the room they, in theory, share. In a final desperate act, Diesel and I gave up the comfort of our king sized memory foam bed for the relative comfort of our couches (we'd be sleeping on our air mattress, but that is packed up too).
Anyhoo, that leads to another problem: laundry. Oftentimes, we aren't able to tackle the laundry until after the boys go to sleep, but then, it leads to the problem of putting everything away. Sure, clothes are folded or on hangers, but then we can't go into either room to put the laundry away. So it ends up on the entertainment center.
That means our entertainment center, the first thing you see when you walk in the door, looks like this:
YEEEEAAAAAAH. Horrible.
So today, I decided to tackle the problem head on. Our biggest problem is the mail. Laundry is easy enough to deal with. I just put it away. I was pondering how we were going to deal with the mail when I remembered that I had this beauty sitting on my nightstand:
It is a cool caddy that Diesel made me in his hand tools class last semester. That's right folks, he made that BY HAND without the aid of electric tools. I use it to hold my magazines, Bible, glasses case and other sundry items that I don't want the kids knocking off my nightstand. I moved all the stuff into the top drawer of my nightstand, which means I won't remember it until we move, but it also means we have somewhere to store the mail! YAY!
During naptime, I not only tackled the mail, but also the inside of the cabinets where a lot of the kids' stuff is now residing.
So here is the final product::
Inside the cabinets
Here is the mail sorter. I didn't really get rid of much beyond the junk circulars because paying the bills is one of Diesel's jobs, so I didn't really know what needed to be filed and what needed to be paid. I just neatened it all up and we will go through it later this weekend.
I also created a basket to act as the "catch all" for the stuff that doesn't currently have a home, and the shoe box from Duckie's new shoes is making a hand-dandy dead battery storage area.
Of course, as soon as the kids were up, they were more than happy to undo the fruits of my labor!
This whole half-packed, but not moved living situation has really emphasized how important it is to have set "homes" for items. Ever since we packed up our stuff I'm feeling quite un-moored and although we have less stuff in the house, it seems to be messier because a lot of the stuff that is missing served essential functions in the battle against clutter. As we move into another home sometime in the future, I hope I can be mindful of this and take the extra time and effort to make sure every thing has its place!
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
I am Dug
This week, in an attempt to better understand how I'm using my time and to create a more accurate schedule for myself and my family, I'm auditing my time. For the whole week, I'm keeping detailed notes on what I do and for how long I do it. I feel a little anal retentive in the process (seriously, I'm writing down stuff like "picked up phone for 2 seconds then set down"), but my hope is that I'll be able to cut out/pare down items that eat up too much of my precious time and thus be able to devote more time to doing the things I actually want to do.
It is Wednesday and you know what I've discovered just by glancing at my use of time? I must surely have ADD. I am like Dug from the movie Up. I am working along all focused, and then I see something and I'm like "Squirrel!" and an hour later...
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Suburban Agriculturalists
 |
| Feet in the dirt & loving it! |
 |
| The neighbors are stepping it up this year, so we gotta represent! |
At any rate, we've decided to try square foot gardening to see if we can more bang for proverbial buck. This past Wednesday, I went and tore out all of our dead/dying plants, except for one purple broccoli which was looking like it would bear fruit.
 |
| The lone survivor |
 |
| Diesel and Little Man shoveling mulch |
Our original plan was to work all day Saturday, but we had to take a break and go look at some houses, which ate up a chunk of time, so we ended up picking up our compost & peat moss late in the day and just dropping it off at the plot under cover of darkness. We went back on Sunday morning and we were racing a storm headed our way. We managed to get the boxes set and filled, the broccoli replanted before the rain started to fall.
 |
| Just a touch of rain headed right for us! |
This weekend we have to get the watering system and our grids set (not to mention our seeds planted) and we'll be ready to head into the summer!
 | ||
| New and improved Cluttered Garden (all battened down for the rain & wind) |
Monday, March 19, 2012
Feeling Convicted
Today I bring you a guest post from my dear friend Dragon Mama. She's an American expat currently living in Beijing with her husband, two boys and dachshund. She is the person who has made me feel the most convicted (in a good way) in my life. In fact, she's probably most responsible for my environmental fervor and overall crunchiness. Oh and she's the person who slammed a voter registration form on my desk when I was 22, looked me dead in the eye and said, "apathy is not an option." I have voted diligently ever since. In a word she's amazing.
This piece, copied with her permission, was originally posted on her blog Her Name is Dragon. It made me feel convicted all over again and made me take a moment to pause and reflect on MY priorities. I wanted to share it with you, in the hopes that you might also be moved by her observations.
*********
99 Bottles of Gas in My Van
At age 12,
I declared myself a vegetarian because "I like cows." I donated my allowance to
PETA. I cried when developers began paving over the Tucson desert, destroying
coyotes' and horned-toads' natural habitat. I declared war on golf courses.
(Have you heard me snort when you've asked whether I play/like golf? You're
lucky I just snort--you should hear my internal excoriations.)
In short, I became a tree-hugger and for years have stubbornly clung to my self-imposed moniker, trying my best to make Greenpeace proud. In sum: I love nature and hate what human's voracious appetite for convenience/wealth is doing to it.
Until moving to China, I was been pretty pleased with my enviro cred and pretty underwhelmed by everyone else who is not on the same bus. Until our trip to Burma, I would have readily ticked off my "impressive" list of green accomplishments to anyone willing to listen.
My Erstwhile Impressive List
(Please feel free to roll your eyes and skip this)
1. We don't have a car here in Beijing.
2. I've never had air conditioning
3. I only use vinegar, baking soda and natural, biodegradable soap for ALL my cleaning needs.
4. I participate in CSA (community-supported agriculture) for my fruits and veggies. (Not true in China.) I'm not vegetarian, but I can get pretty close to it.
5. I buy organic, I buy local.
6. I never use paper towels or paper napkins, I use washable, reusable rags.
7. I never use plastic sandwich bags for kids' lunches
8. 80% of the boys' clothes/toys/books are second-hand
9. I have a clothes line and use it whenever possible.
10. I recycle and compost (even in China.)
11. My family uses public transportation whenever possible.
12. Austin rides his bike to work (I get association points for this.)
13. I use non-toxic products, like paint, and drive anything toxic to the household hazardous waste sites.
14. I gather used batteries from people so Amazon.com can recycle them.
15. I diapered my babies with cloth and washed them myself and dried them out on the line.
16. We don't even use a heater in Beijing! (We use our passive solar heating very well!)
Now, if you read this list. Ignore it. It's pathetic. Here's why:
When me moved to China, we could only take what could fit into box roughly the size of a washing machine and our checked baggage, mainly duffle bags sausaged with clothes and shoes. We had a much larger shipment coming by boat which was scheduled to arrive between 1 and six months after us.
We lived well off this one box. We did great. We were fine. We were happy. Our earthly Beijing possessions consisted mostly of Legos, kitchen utensils and children's books. We had to supplement the box with a trip to Ikea to buy bed sheets for the larger beds in our apartment, but mostly we lacked nothing and did not miss our American "stuff," aside from our bikes and my pole.
So when our sea shipment arrived I was horrified. WHAT WAS ALL THIS SHIT? And why did I feel the need to bring it? With each box that was dumped into my living room--there were 56 in all--I felt my cheeks burning hotter. It was like unwrapping a department store. It was judgment day in my own heart. I immediately began foisting items onto the movers: "Here take this!" "You want this?" "A gift from America, the world's most egregious consumers!""With love, from Macy's!"
My moment of shame was intensified by our Ayi's presence. She was there to witness my abject hedonism, my consumption addiction, my one-woman assault on our gorgeous earth. Unloading our clothes was the worst part. I cringed until I had lockjaw when she pulled out one, two, three, four, five pairs of Austin's jeans. Five pairs? This does not include all his pants. I thought all along that we were modest apparel consumers, after all our clothes fit into two tiny, circa 1930 closets. We've never had these walk-in closets that are bigger than most world denizens' living quarters or anything. Really, how irresponsible are we?
I wanted to dismiss our Ayi early, I couldn't bear the shame. I could not look her in the eye. I was thinking of how to say "you can go home now" with my two classes worth of Chinese (Ayi does not speak a word of English) when she held up a pair of jeans riddled with holes and shellacked in coal miner's patina. She asked me a question. I did not understand. She always knows when I'm confused because I bobblehead and my jaw drops open. She is sweet enough to pantomime until I understand, and acted out throwing-away-the-pants. Surely I had meant to discard them? Trashed-out jeans such as these were not suitable to wear in public.
"Oh! NO! NO! NO! Those are nice jeans! The are expensive! They are designer! We bought them with holes and grease and stains! You can't throw those........" Yep, I was speaking in English again as my most patient and intelligent Ayi carefully placed the designer jeans on the heap of other designer jeans.
I began to giggle. Then laugh. Then laugh so hard tears welled in my eyes. I felt so stupid, so hypocritical, yet I know that Ayi was not judging me for my consumption. I think most humans secretly or openly aspire to reach the American standard of living. How can I tell her it's too much? I want to warn her of the pitfalls, the fact that money in many cases comes before family, before God. How can I let her know that the world cannot support an American lifestyle for everyone?
Our trip to Burma was the second proverbial slap in
my ignorant face. Tree Hugger? Please. In an ivory tower, there ain't no
trees.
Burma was like time traveling. Progress has passed the country entirely. The fields of Burma are still plowed by oxen, water hand-carried from wells and cars are scarce. Gasoline is purchased out of used water bottles and liquor bottles at road-side stands. I did not see a single gas station in all of Burma, not even in Yangon, the capital city.
I saw two cars outside of Yangon and the occasional tractor. There aren't yet decent paved roads. Taxis were horse-drawn in Bagan. Some enterprising B
urmese take simple tractor engines and attached them
to pickup truck cab to make some incredibly loud and jittery vehicles that
looked comical with their exposed belts whirring and the exhaust huffing and
puffing. You certainly don't need gas or oil for heating. The country is bloody
hot--the cool, dry season posting temperatures in the 90s.
This will change, I give it ten years. Don't get me wrong, I want progress for the beautiful Burmese. I want everybody in this world to have access to education, healthcare, clean water and healthy food. I am just not optimistic enough to believe our earth has the resources to sustain 7 billion 3-car families.
So my youngest son Finn was studying the petrol stand under the tamarind tree when he asked: "Mommy, how many bottles would it take to fill up our mini-van in Seattle?"
"About Ninety Nine." Ninety nine. Ninety-nine fucking bottles of petrol in my van. Ninety-nine bottles to haul my over-privileged family to The Children's Museum of Everett, to private swim lessons, to Remlinger Farms, to the beach, to Whole Foods, to the Science Center, to the library, to sundry parks, camping, hiking, biking.
At least I don't drive an RV.
In short, I became a tree-hugger and for years have stubbornly clung to my self-imposed moniker, trying my best to make Greenpeace proud. In sum: I love nature and hate what human's voracious appetite for convenience/wealth is doing to it.
Until moving to China, I was been pretty pleased with my enviro cred and pretty underwhelmed by everyone else who is not on the same bus. Until our trip to Burma, I would have readily ticked off my "impressive" list of green accomplishments to anyone willing to listen.
My Erstwhile Impressive List
(Please feel free to roll your eyes and skip this)
1. We don't have a car here in Beijing.
2. I've never had air conditioning
3. I only use vinegar, baking soda and natural, biodegradable soap for ALL my cleaning needs.
4. I participate in CSA (community-supported agriculture) for my fruits and veggies. (Not true in China.) I'm not vegetarian, but I can get pretty close to it.
5. I buy organic, I buy local.
6. I never use paper towels or paper napkins, I use washable, reusable rags.
7. I never use plastic sandwich bags for kids' lunches
8. 80% of the boys' clothes/toys/books are second-hand
9. I have a clothes line and use it whenever possible.
10. I recycle and compost (even in China.)
11. My family uses public transportation whenever possible.
12. Austin rides his bike to work (I get association points for this.)
13. I use non-toxic products, like paint, and drive anything toxic to the household hazardous waste sites.
14. I gather used batteries from people so Amazon.com can recycle them.
15. I diapered my babies with cloth and washed them myself and dried them out on the line.
16. We don't even use a heater in Beijing! (We use our passive solar heating very well!)
Now, if you read this list. Ignore it. It's pathetic. Here's why:
When me moved to China, we could only take what could fit into box roughly the size of a washing machine and our checked baggage, mainly duffle bags sausaged with clothes and shoes. We had a much larger shipment coming by boat which was scheduled to arrive between 1 and six months after us.
We lived well off this one box. We did great. We were fine. We were happy. Our earthly Beijing possessions consisted mostly of Legos, kitchen utensils and children's books. We had to supplement the box with a trip to Ikea to buy bed sheets for the larger beds in our apartment, but mostly we lacked nothing and did not miss our American "stuff," aside from our bikes and my pole.
So when our sea shipment arrived I was horrified. WHAT WAS ALL THIS SHIT? And why did I feel the need to bring it? With each box that was dumped into my living room--there were 56 in all--I felt my cheeks burning hotter. It was like unwrapping a department store. It was judgment day in my own heart. I immediately began foisting items onto the movers: "Here take this!" "You want this?" "A gift from America, the world's most egregious consumers!""With love, from Macy's!"
My moment of shame was intensified by our Ayi's presence. She was there to witness my abject hedonism, my consumption addiction, my one-woman assault on our gorgeous earth. Unloading our clothes was the worst part. I cringed until I had lockjaw when she pulled out one, two, three, four, five pairs of Austin's jeans. Five pairs? This does not include all his pants. I thought all along that we were modest apparel consumers, after all our clothes fit into two tiny, circa 1930 closets. We've never had these walk-in closets that are bigger than most world denizens' living quarters or anything. Really, how irresponsible are we?
I wanted to dismiss our Ayi early, I couldn't bear the shame. I could not look her in the eye. I was thinking of how to say "you can go home now" with my two classes worth of Chinese (Ayi does not speak a word of English) when she held up a pair of jeans riddled with holes and shellacked in coal miner's patina. She asked me a question. I did not understand. She always knows when I'm confused because I bobblehead and my jaw drops open. She is sweet enough to pantomime until I understand, and acted out throwing-away-the-pants. Surely I had meant to discard them? Trashed-out jeans such as these were not suitable to wear in public.
"Oh! NO! NO! NO! Those are nice jeans! The are expensive! They are designer! We bought them with holes and grease and stains! You can't throw those........" Yep, I was speaking in English again as my most patient and intelligent Ayi carefully placed the designer jeans on the heap of other designer jeans.
I began to giggle. Then laugh. Then laugh so hard tears welled in my eyes. I felt so stupid, so hypocritical, yet I know that Ayi was not judging me for my consumption. I think most humans secretly or openly aspire to reach the American standard of living. How can I tell her it's too much? I want to warn her of the pitfalls, the fact that money in many cases comes before family, before God. How can I let her know that the world cannot support an American lifestyle for everyone?
Our trip to Burma was the second proverbial slap in
my ignorant face. Tree Hugger? Please. In an ivory tower, there ain't no
trees.Burma was like time traveling. Progress has passed the country entirely. The fields of Burma are still plowed by oxen, water hand-carried from wells and cars are scarce. Gasoline is purchased out of used water bottles and liquor bottles at road-side stands. I did not see a single gas station in all of Burma, not even in Yangon, the capital city.
I saw two cars outside of Yangon and the occasional tractor. There aren't yet decent paved roads. Taxis were horse-drawn in Bagan. Some enterprising B
urmese take simple tractor engines and attached them
to pickup truck cab to make some incredibly loud and jittery vehicles that
looked comical with their exposed belts whirring and the exhaust huffing and
puffing. You certainly don't need gas or oil for heating. The country is bloody
hot--the cool, dry season posting temperatures in the 90s.This will change, I give it ten years. Don't get me wrong, I want progress for the beautiful Burmese. I want everybody in this world to have access to education, healthcare, clean water and healthy food. I am just not optimistic enough to believe our earth has the resources to sustain 7 billion 3-car families.
So my youngest son Finn was studying the petrol stand under the tamarind tree when he asked: "Mommy, how many bottles would it take to fill up our mini-van in Seattle?"
"About Ninety Nine." Ninety nine. Ninety-nine fucking bottles of petrol in my van. Ninety-nine bottles to haul my over-privileged family to The Children's Museum of Everett, to private swim lessons, to Remlinger Farms, to the beach, to Whole Foods, to the Science Center, to the library, to sundry parks, camping, hiking, biking.
At least I don't drive an RV.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)