Why my son is sad… :-)

“I’m sad, Mommy.” (Yes, he still calls me mommy though he has now turned eleven.  For a while he wanted to change to mom and I said fine, but it was too hard for him to make the shift, I guess.)

“I’m sad, Mommy. I’m going to have to wear glasses and have braces and… be BALD!”

Sweet little guy.  “Not all at the same time, honey.”  Yeh, like that helped.

Bubby is myopic, it turns out.  We bought his glasses on Tuesday night and will pick them up Friday after school.  It will be an adjustment.  They are nice glasses, dark blue rims with open bottom, Ray Bans, featherweight lenses.  But it will be strange to see him with glasses on all the time.  I suppose we will all get used to it.

The braces, well that’s not until next year, says the orthodontist.  Have to correct an overbite.  No big deal.  He has told me that he wants orange braces.  Hmmm.  That sounds pretty gross.  And it’ll clash with the blue glasses, won’t it?

As for the baldness, we were chatting along one day and me an my big mouth — I mentioned that baldness is actually passed down through the mother’s father.  My dad hasn’t had much hair since he was…hmmm…when did he start losing it, exactly.  Ah, well, bald is beautiful.

My son has the loveliest face and beautiful blue eyes, and he is tall and strong and has a killer smile.  I know he has nothing to worry about.  But he has become a tweener and suddenly these things matter. On the other hand…

Yesterday he told me he was “really excited” about getting his glasses.  He’s sure a trooper!

Bags, everyone! Bags!

I was shopping at Trader Joe’s the other day and was very excited to see that they have started selling organic, humanely-raised chicken. After what I’ve been reading about feed lot meat, ugh. Anyway, I was very happy to see this. Then at the checkout counter, the guy asked me if I’d found everything I wanted, and I said, “I wish you carried grass-fed beef.”

Presto, he gets this guy to look it up for me in their system, and it turns out there are two marinated tri-tip varieties they had right there in the fridge case that fit the bill. Yippee. Meat I can eat without all the bad health effects of beef and the guilt about contributing to global warming and other nasties. I bought the carne asada type. Yummo. Taco Tuesday coming soon!

Then when I was leaving, I noticed this sign:

I don’t know if you can see the details very well on your screen, but it’s a picture of an adorable little reusable bag crying from inside a locked car. Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me!! I want to go into the store with you…. Or, now that I think about it, maybe it’s a bag that’s tryign to get into your car as you drive away. Hmmm. Well, either way, it’s kinda cute, and er well kinda disturbing.

Okay, so at the time I thought it was adorable. What a NICE way to remind people to stop polluting by using all those plastic or paper bags. Very polite little reminder.

So, I’m sure there’s some awful thing Trader Joe’s has done that I just don’t know about and all that. But for now, ignorance is bliss. And until our CSA meat share starts in December, when I get to purchase the ideal — pasture-fed, organic, and local meat — well, I’ll gladly go to Trader Joe’s. Two outta three ain’t bad.

The local farmer’s market has few veggies left these days. The weather’s turning. I need to pick some apples next weekend and make applesauce and all that. But mostly the growing season in my neck of the woods (New England, USA) is almost over. I tried really hard the last two months to buy the local stuff and preserve it, but there’s no way this year that I gathered enough to last us until spring crops come in. I did, however make a dent in our food-related energy consumption. Next year I’ll do better with more lead time and having figured out what we should have done differently this year.

Meanwhile, I started using my reusable bags everywhere I go, so I’m doing my bit. At Target the other day, the checkout clerk looked at me like I was crazy when I refused — politely — his plastic bag. They’re not just for groceries anymore, folks! Seems like it’s somehow okay now for yout to bring a bag into the grocery store, but eeghads not a REGULAR store, heaven forbid.

Well, anyway, if you want some good sources for buying reusable bags, check these out:

Fair Indigo (a fair trade on-line store) sells beautiful bags — these are quite lovely as well as foldable and reusable

ReusableBags.com sells all kinds of bags as well as other items (lunch boxes, etc.)

Remembering why I teach…

Because students like B. come to my office and are confused when they sit down and shakin their heads and looking at the floor. And when they leave, they high-five me. Seriously. High-five.

Because students like M. write an essay about how their mom was just diagnosed with lung cancer and they are terrified of losing a loved one, and I can write back how sorry I am and make them feel as if college is not some impersonal place where nobody cares.

Because when students like C. whose cell phone went off in class for the SECOND time in five weeks now has to bring me chocolate as payment for disrupting class, and I get to come off as the funny professor for at least half a second instead of the mean lady who is always making us work so hard.

Because when students like S. act like idiots I can rise to the challenge of how to reach this immature young person who has no clue about appropriate behavior and maybe I’ll get through to her and one day people will actually begin to like her.

Because students like L have figured out where to put the comma because I showed him how the rule actually makes sense. Yes, punctuation, usually, makes sense!

Because of students like C. who asks me what I’m teaching next semester so she can take another class from me.

YES. That’s why I teach. Well, and it pays the bills, too. 🙂

Walking the dog…while the guys run away

So I think I mentioned before that my son and husband have taken up running. This was part of a deal we made with my son, who wanted to quit playing travel team soccer this year after playing the sport since he was four (he’s almost eleven, so quitting is a big deal). We have all signed up for a road race on October 18 to help raise money for an orphanage in Kenya, and the guys have been training hard for their 5-mile run, and I’ve been, well, er, thinking a lot about training hard for the 5-k walk I’ll complete.

Anyway, our son really has set his heart on running as a sport now and is eagerly awaiting the day that he will be old enough to enter the Olympics. (He’s calculated when the first games will be held for which he will be eligible to compete–2016–and he’s been asking where those will take place.) We agreed to let him quit soccer (yes, we are that controlling as parents) but only if he had some other form of regular exercise. Let’s face it, one 45-minute session of gym each week at school just doesn’t cut it!

So I’m happy to say that the guys have worked up to running three miles now, at six a.m.! Pretty impressive, I think. Of course, for this to work now that my husband has a long distance to commute to a new job, we all have to get up at six a.m., and I need to take the dog for a walk almost immediately while the boys get ready. They pass the pup and me somewhere during the first half mile leg of my one-mile walk with dogga (I need exercise, too, right?!) We turn around at the entrance to the State Forest and head home to heat up some oatmeal for breakfast. At least I do the cooking. The dog does the worrying. You should see the pained look in her eyes when she sees that once again her beloved one (the hubster) is running, oh joy RUNNING towards her … only to pass her up yet again, and then disappear from view…

Oh, no, I must run faster…arrgh what is that thing poking me in the neck..ouch…Training Collar. Sit? SIT??!!! But alpha dog and that boy are running away, and I must join them. The pack is leaving without me. There could be WOLVES in that forest where they are headed! They may need my protection. I must…ouch. Sit. SIT? Fine. Make me turn towards home. I will just wait at the window until they come back, IF they come back. Oh, just thinking of what could happen out there… pains me. Hooooowwwwl…ouch. Damn training collar. SIT? Fine. Have it your way, but don’t come cryin to me when they are eaten by a coyote. Oh, my goodness. Are there coyotes out today. Sniff, sniff. Maybe I can sneak a peek back and still see them before they disa… Ouch. Sigh. Poor alpha dog. I loved him so. And it was so delightful to lick his sweaty face the last time he came home from running away from the wolves. Mmm. Salt. What’s that? A squirrel??? Ouch. Leave it? But it’s a SQUIRREL! What’s wrong with this lady and her jerky leash anyway??? Sit? SIT!!!!! Sigh.

The dog back when she was CUTE!

SIT???!!!!!!   Are you kidding?  Let’s GO!!!

When I had cancer…

When I had skin cancer, I thought a lot about what would happen to my family if I died. I also thought a lot about what I would change immediately about the way I was living my life. How would my teaching alter? Would I even be able to continue teaching? What would I tell my students or would I even tell them? Would I finish those scrapbooks of my son’s last eight years that I keep meaning to get to…just in case? How would I complete Grandma’s book?

I had gone in for my annual skin check at the dermatologist and asked about a suspicious mole on my back. It was irregularly shaped and was two-tone. Uh oh. So when the doctor asked if I wanted her to take a biopsy, I jumped in with a resounding YES. Then I pretty much forgot about the whole thing. I had other matters to attend to.

A week passed and then I was supposed to call to get the results. But the nurse refused to speak to me about it, and in a grave voice said she would have to have the doctor call me back. So for two hours I panicked, thinking, oh, great, now I have cancer.

The nurse called back, not the doctor, and said the doctor told her, “There’s no cancer, nothing abnormal. The cells were absolutely clear.”

Wow! That night at dinner when my family did our little ritual thing we do every night now where we each share three things for which we are grateful, I kept saying I’m grateful I don’t have cancer. 🙂 Then…

The next day I got a call from my regular doctor’s nurse about my recent mammogram. She said, “Well, the technician said that it was ‘questionable’ but that there appears to be an emerging mass on your left breast.”

Stunned silence. Oh, shit! That’s what I get for gleefully reveling in the no skin cancer diagnosis. Now I have something worse.

“We’ve made your follow-up mammogram appointment for September 11th, and they’ll also do an ultrasound to investigate further.”

“Yeh, okay, 9-11. But you said they said it was ‘questionable,’ right?”

So then I waited for two weeks further before my appointment. Mostly I was able to move on with my life, but the sobering realization that this time there really could be something wrong made it hard to dismiss the whole thing out of hand. Once more I went through all of the questioning and reevaluating, which made the start of this school year just about the most bizarre ever.

My cousin reminded me, “Nothing’s happened yet. Try to remember that.” And mostly I did. Then the day of the mammogram re-do came and with it all the gloom of remembrance for the great tragedy on that day in 2001. I was fine until the technician had to re-do one of the pictures she just did. Then I lost it.

At first I couldn’t speak as the tears flowed. Then I squeeked out, “Usually these things are nothing…right?”

She handed me some Kleenex, ignored my question and instead replied, “Everyone feels this way. Whether they show it or not, everyone feels this way. It’s perfectly normal.” She took the re-do of the re-do and then showed me where the bathroom was so I could calm down privately.

I sat back down in the waiting room, trying to grade some student’s essay. I have to get my mind off of this…. Then the radiologist came out and told me that there was something, indeed, on the mammo and that she was going to take me over to ultrasound right now. “They will determine what it is and you should get the news today. Nine times out of ten, these things turn out to be nothing serious.”

Waiting in the ultrasound area, I was too stunned to cry anymore. I had convinced myself — at least it was my party line — that the original pictures were just flawed and that there was nothing at all to see in my left breast. But now there was confirmation that something WAS there. I felt a sense of dread mounting.

By the time I was stretched out on the ultrasound table in a very dark and very large room, I was crying again. Then the ultrasound technician, whose cheerfulness I will never forget and for which I was immensely grateful (for, who would be so cheerful if the patient in front of them had cancer, right — so it must be good news!), chirped, “Oh, that’s a cist. Don’t worry!” She took a few more pictures and added, “The radiologist will come in and say the same thing in a minute. I’ll go get her.”

When she arrived after a long while (where WAS she that it took that long to come and confirm that I will live to see another day?), she took a quick look and said, “Clear cyst.” But I wanted to know HOW she knew that and how SURE she was. I was not content after all I had been through to sail on blithely through this experience as if nothing had happened. I had cancer, damn it. If I NOW did NOT have cancer, the story had to be as convincing as when I DID have it.

So the stately radiologist lady explained all about ultrasound technology and the way that tumors (solid masses) block the ultrasound waves from penetrating and thus can’t imagine the breast underneath, but how with clear cysts the waves pass through and show the breast tissue on the other side. She showed the cyst on the screen, my cyst. And there was the breast tissue on the other side. Okay. I bought her story.

This little blip on the screen looked huge, by the way, but it was only .83 centimeters. I had not even caught it on a self-exam. But the diligent technicians did. And I am grateful for their caution and care.

I have a big imagination. It’s generally a good thing. Sometimes, though, not so much. Yes, of course, I did not ever really have cancer, thank goodness. But in my mind, I did. I really did. And the experience — just a tiny taste of a much more shattering reality for so many others, I’m sure — did make me stop and think, once more, about what matters, about my priorities.

A sobering reminder not to take any second of this precious life for granted.

…and to get regular mammograms and complete regular breast self-exams.

P.S. I asked for a picture of my cyst from the ultrasound machine so I could put it on my blog! They thought I was NUTS and were ultra concerned about my privacy — really freaked out, actually. But I assured them I would only put the picture itself up without any identifying info. But the printout I did manage to get from them was too dark to scan, so I’ll just have to leave it to your imagination. For the life of me, I can’t think of a good reason not to post about this experience, though the way those two women freaked out gave me pause and delayed my posting by a couple of weeks. Ultimately, though, I decided it was an important story to share. I want to remind women to get those mammograms and do those self-exams. It’s really important. And though it was a scary experience, nine times out of ten everything really is okay!

In Sickness and in Health…

The hubster and kid have been wicked sick with some nausea virus for the last few days.  So far I’ve avoided it.  I am just far too busy to get sick.  My defenses are up and my armies of antibodies are on high alert.  After all, next week I go back to the classroom! 🙂

In any case, they are sick and I am taking care of them.  I’m also trying to do all those extras to help me to stay well.  Incessant hand washing. Extra zinc vitamin pill last night.  Emergen-C drink yesterday.  Water.  Peaches. Pesto.  (Yeh, right, you say. Is pesto a miracle cure?  I don’t know, but I had made some over the weekend, so I’ve been eating it this week. Hard to cook for one and pesto on some leftover noodles or bread — whole grain, of course — is yummy and easy.  Especially when the sight of most food makes my family want to, well, you know ….)

Anyway, I’ve been wondering what other folks do to try to stay well.  Any teachers out there?  What do you do to stave off the creepin cruds?  Folks with small children?  How do you stay healthy in the face of so many bodily fluids in your parental presence? For that matter, how do you stay SANE?

Sorry I have nothing more to say today.  My armies of white blood cells are on the move, and I’ve gotta keep movin, keep movin, keep movin. Left… right… left, right, left.

Pickles, Wonder Food of the Future; or all about carflickles

I thought pickles were a nothing food, no value, no calories, not really food, just salt. I thought they were just there on my plate in a restaurant for the crunch and the pucker, you know? Something sorta green on the plate to make it look like there’s more variety? Turns out I was wrong.

According to an old book my mom sent me called All About Pickling (Ortho Books, 1975): “The art of pickling predates recorded history. It’s roots probably go deep into Chinese culture. We know that laborers on the Great Wall of China ate lunches of salted vegetables…. Cleopatra valued pickles as a secret of beauty and health. She introduced them to Julius Caesar and soon he added pickles to the daily diets of the Roman legions and gladiators, thinking pickles would help keep the men in top physical condition…. The ‘new world’ was even named after a Spanish pickle dealer ‘Americus Vespucius.’… Early Puritan settlers believed that pickles should be served daily as a ‘sour’ reminder to be thankful for the ‘sweet’ gifts of the land.”

I had no idea America was named after a pickle dude. How weird is that?

So I just had to make some!!

I made a few other food items this weekend, too, actually. From left to right: six cups of cooked down strawberry puree sweetened with maple syrup to use as flavoring for homemade yogurt (I bought a yogurt maker to start cookin that treat myself!), eight pints of strawberry jam (only three left from the first batch I made in late June), a jar full of apricot fruit leather (yummo!!), a half-filled jar of dried blueberries (eight cups of fresh berries made only THAT much? SOOOO not worth the effort), three quarts of a pickled vegetable medley which I like to call carflickle (carrots and cauliflower, in a pickling brine with purple onions, garlic, and dill), and dilly beans (pickled green beans). Whew! And if you think I’m tuckered out…yup, you’d be guessin right!

But all the produce is local and mostly organic, and I’m trying hard to do what I can within my current means (financial and time) to preserve some of this summer bounty for the long winter ahead when the cool, crisp crunch of pickled cauliflower might bring us back to that lovely Saturday in August when we spent the day at J and S’s house puttin’ up our veggies. (J and S went to Peru in Jan. on the same trip as I did — they are good people, those two.) Ah, but do pickled veggies really have any food value?

On this count the book shared some interesting nutritional facts that surprised me. For instance, the brining solution is high in potassium. The “vitamin A content of fresh produce is actually increased through the pickling process. Even though some of the vitamin C is decreased, pickles still retain richer deposits of the vitamin than other processed foods. … Vinegar prevents oxidation which allows the vitamin to escape from cut surfaces.”

Who knew? Well, other than my grandma, and pretty much all the immigrants who came to our country and homesteaded, and well, most people throughout the world. Ah, yes, well, okay, so I’m late in coming to this but at least I’m gettin there! I’ll be sure to report how they came out when we crack ’em open in November or December. Hope it’s worth the wait. 🙂

On Gratitude…

I’ve read two unrelated articles in the last day that have really made me stop and think. I’ve been in mega self-improvement mode for the last year, and two weeks from tomorrow my sabbatical ends and I go back to teaching full time, so I’m trying to tie up some loose ends.

Looking back over the last year, I can see that I’ve made a lot of progress in several areas of family and personal life. There have been some lingering issues that are unresolved, of course, and I’ll get to that in a moment, but I thought I’d take a moment to reflect on how far I’ve/we’ve come:

1) My husband and I have a one-on-one meeting each Sunday to discuss any relationship or personal issues and devote some time to maintaining the health of our marriage.

2) On Saturday mornings, the three of us (me, hubster, and son) hold a family meeting to give each of us, and especially our son, a chance to air concerns or make requests. We also use that time to go over our week’s schedule.

3) I lost twenty-five pounds and have kept it off for months now. I have finally recognized that I have a weight problem whether I am currently overweight or not. So I need to be vigilant and keep my physical health front and center. Stress eating is most likely to occur if I do not take time to plan and cook decent food. So I absolutely must make time for planning and preparing. So far, so good. But I continue to go to weight Watchers each month and weigh in and attend a meeting.

4) I started reading again. Not for my job. I read as an English Professor a lot. But I mean reading for pleasure and for enlightenment. I started a book club at my church, killing the proverbial two birds with one stone by forming this club within our “Women’s Group.” There was such a women’s group at our church in the past, but right now our book group is it. The best things about doing the book group this year are getting to read and discuss some terrific books and getting to know these awesome women. I’ve never belonged to a book group before. I highly recommend it!

5) I am exercising more. Okay, not as much as I’d like to or need to, but more than before. And I’m okay with that. It’s improvement. I’ve added regular walking into my fall schedule (along with time to plan, prep food, and read), so I am sure to have the time to exercise if I merely stick to the plan.

6) I have become a writer. Early on in this blog I wondered if I were a “real” writer if I did not write every day. The funny thing is that the more I wrote on this blog, the more I felt like a real writer. The more I wrote, the more I thought of my life in terms of what I would write about it. I love writing now as never before. I’m not sure how I’ll fit blogging into my schedule this fall. But I’m going to try to find a way because it keeps me thinking in terms of words on the page and helps me produce raw material. I have not scheduled time in my week this fall for blogging, but I have, however, scheduled in time for my creative writing. I’ve NEVER done that before. When school started, I used to stop all creative or scholarly writing. I’m not willing to do that anymore.

7) Most recently I’ve also gone a long way toward helping my family to reduce its ecological footprint in terms of food consumption. We had already joined a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) farm a couple of years ago. We enjoy getting a share of fresh veggies direct from the farm each week of the growing season. Now I’ve also signed us up for a pasture-raised meat CSA and a fruit CSA. I also just discovered that not five miles from us there is a local dairy (with organic cows) that delivers milk in those old-fashioned glass milk bottles! I still haven’t figured out a good source for other food products like grains, but I’m getting there. It feels SO good NOT to feel guilty about contributing to global warming by eating non-local, highly processed and over-packaged food. We’re not yet where I want us to be, but much improvement on this front!

Now, back to some things left unfixed and the two articles I read.

A lot is unfixed. Such is life. But one thing that I have noticed this year and that really bothers me is a certain bitterness I have been feeling about some things that have happened to me and to loved ones in the last few years. I have also, the more I learn about the state of the world, become more anxious about our planet’s future than I ever have been before. I have been working hard this year to try to find a way to let go of the rancor and fear and to embrace a sense of peace. I am naturally optimistic and positive, but I’ve become less so in recent years. This sabbatical year I have been looking for a way to regain my healthier outlook on life, to restore balance.

So, anyway, yesterday I read this article in the Sept. 2008 issue of Body and Soul magazine: “Thank-You Therapy” by Terri Trespicio. The title may sound like it’s a trite essay, but it contained the right info to help me. Here’s what I learned:

(a) A study showed that people who wrote five things for which they were grateful each week in a journal felt better about their lives than people who kept track of their problems or just kept a record of events. The gratitude group also was healthier physically and, get this, spent more time exercising — up to 80 minutes more a week! Further, people who kept a daily gratitude journal for two weeks were more likely to “offer emotional support and help to others” than those keeping the other journals.

(b) A study showed that the earlier truism that people have a set point for happiness (a predetermined level of happiness that pretty much stays the same over the long term regardless of circumstances) is not exactly true. In fact, they found that about half of a person’s happiness comes from genetics (their set point) and 10% from circumstances, but a full 40% comes from “intentional activity,” our habits, essentially. The author makes the point that you can actually “bump up your happiness set point” if you commit to a regular practice of gratitude. Gratitude can be learned. We get better at it if we practice it. Hmmm.

(c) The article gives a lot of examples of how to practice gratitude. Here are some of the ones I most liked: “enjoy a mindful meal,” reflecting with gratitude on the people who helped bring that food to your table; “start a gratitude wall” by writing things for which you’re grateful on stickie notes and putting them on a wall (I’m thinking of doing this on my office window); “pay a thank you visit” to someone you appreciate ; “flip your complaints” (i.e., every time you complain stop and think of something for which you are grateful); “set an alarm” to go off during the day and when it does, stop what you are doing and focus on something for which you are grateful; “count blessings, not sheep” before bed; for five minutes write “a bliss list” of as many things that you can remember for which you are grateful and keep the list in your purse or pocket to look at when you are waiting in lines.

The other article appeared in the UU World in Spring 2007, but I just got around to reading it this morning: “The Heart of Our Faith: Gratitude Should Be the Center of Unitarian Universalist Theology” by Galen Guengerich. This article clinched the whole gratitude thing for me, providing another reason for cultivating gratitude in my own and our family life. Here’s an excerpt that hits at the heart of gratitude as a religious principle:

… A sense of awe and a sense of obligation, religion’s basic impulses, are both experiences of transcendence, of being part of something much larger than ourselves.

The feeling of awe emerges from experiences of the grandeur of life and the mystery of the divine. We happen upon a sense of inexpressible exhilaration at being alive and a sense of utter dependence upon sources of being beyond ourselves. This sense of awe and dependence should engender in us a discipline of gratitude, which constantly acknowledges that our present experience depends upon the sources that make it possible. The feeling of obligation lays claim to us when we sense our duty to the larger life we share. As we glimpse our dependence upon other people and things, we also glimpse our duty to them. This sense of obligation leads to an ethic of gratitude, which takes our experience of transcendence in the present and works for a future in which all relationships—among humans, as well as between humans and the physical world—are fair, constructive, and beautiful.

Gratitude. Yup. That’ll work, I think. When one is filled with gratitude, there is no room for bitterness. When one is deliberately grateful, one turns away from fear. When one feels ones extreme good fortune, one works willingly and gladly for the good of others. When one is thankful, one is FULL of thanks, not rancor or fear. Not that I am FULL of rancor and fear, but I’d rather squeeze out those emotions and make room for thanks.

Now, I’ve got two weeks before school starts to try to get a habit of gratefulness started!

More Writing Assignments for Kids: Writing Under Pressure

Yeh, so after I returned from Scandinavia, it was back to work for that kid o’ mine! I’m a regular crack the whip kinda mom. SO MEAN! Yes, I re-instituted the three-hour work cycle that I was having him complete earlier in the summer.

Anyway, this week it occurred to me that since my son was mostly having trouble in his writing with the first draft part, especially writing quickly, that I ought to give him some practice just churning out some short essays. SO … for the last three days, I’ve given him a timed writing assignment each day. No revision, no great length of time allowed for writing (30 minutes). Just think for a couple of minutes and write like the wind.

Here are the topics I gave him:

(1) It is better to be safe than sorry. Do you agree or disagree with this statement? (I got this one from the SSAT website as a sample question — in fact, they sparked the idea in me of doing this kind of assignment.)

(2) Is war ever justified? Is yes, under what circumstances? If no, then why not?

(3) Is it better to buy organic food from really far away or local food that is not organic?

I was shooting for questions with no right answer so he would feel safe in giving his own opinions. And I found it fascinating to read his ideas. For instance, war against aliens who are taking over the planet is acceptable. “It’s clearly self-defense.” Oh, and it is better to buy local conventional than global organic because we have to sacrifice our own individual health for the good of the planet, though he’d “rather have both organic and local.”

Isn’t that last one intriguing, though? Clearly my child doesn’t yet understand how organic is better for the planet, as well as for our bodies. But his answer was pretty revealing, I thought. I had no idea that he held so dear the idea of individual sacrifice for the common good. Surprising.

The best part is that I was able to tell him that I had no idea how I myself would answer, so I wanted to hear his thoughts. As keeps happening lately, he blew me away. Who is this little man?

Adventures in Buying Local: Visiting the Fishmongrel

I just finished reading Barbara Kingsolver’s book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.  A fabulous read, I thought, as did my book group from church.  I knew that there were good reasons to buy local and all that, but it was inspiring reading about how Kingsolver’s family spent a whole year trying to eat only food grown by people they knew (including themselves).

Okay, in a nutshell, here is the point:  trucking and training and flying and shipping food from thousands of miles away to our grocery stores just so we can have asparagus in September or raspberries in January is taking a huge toll on our planet.  For one thing, look at how much oil it takes to transport those foods so far.  And another point, the kind of super-agribusiness it takes to actually pull that sort of thing off is resulting in an alarming reduction in plants and animal varieties, and that is dangerous because a nasty bug that is resistant to chemicals meant to kill it can come along and wipe out 25% or more of a certain type of food in the blink of an eye.  Plus, food from far doesn’t taste as good as fresh food.  So there.

There’s more to it than this, but you get the basic idea.  Now, here’s the reason I recommend the book.  I KNEW about the importance of local and sustainable food systems and all that, but I didn’t really KNOW it in any way that translated the big issue into my own life.  Reading about Kingsolver’s family, helped me to truly understand.  I read and actually felt hopeful.

So my book group, which is comprised of women from my UU church, read the book and discussed it at a potluck on Sunday night, and we are very excited about working together to help our own families, our church, and our community to be better stewards of the earth, to enjoy healthier and more satisfying food, and to reverse the trend of borrowing from tomorrow for the food whim of today.

For the past month, as I’ve been reading, I have started making changes.  We already belong to a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) farm.  But I never gave a thought to where the rest of our food came from.  For the first time, I went to our city’s farmer’s market this week and got the best heirloom tomatoes and cantaloupe I’ve had in a long while.  I also ran into a ton of people I know (wish I’d taken a little time to freshen up a bit before going!)  Ah, I thought, I can supplement whatver I do not get each week from my CSA with the farmer’s market offerings.  Good.  But…where can I get locally made bread, cheese, and most importantly, grass-fed meat? Cause I ain’t goin back to no feedlot beef never never never.

Well, I’ve been trying to find out about these and other options and it’s like a full-time job.  I will persevere, but I wish it were easier to make the switch.  And that leads me to the title of this post.  Today I finally got around to checking out a local fishmonger’s shop.  Okay, so that’s what I call it.  Is that because I study British literature of the 19th century or do people here in 2008 USA also call a person who sells fish a fishmonger?

My son, whom I dragged all around town on errands today, got a little mixed up by the word, saying fishmongrel instead.  Cutie!

Unfortunately, the place didn’t actually sell fish except fully cooked on a plate and all that. I thought for sure that was a fishmonger shop.  Nope.  No such luck.

Back to more research, I guess.  School starts very soon, though.  If I don’t have my suppliers figured out by then, I’m afraid I’ll not be able to follow through as well as I’d like once I’m back to teaching.  At least I’ve discovered the Lowell farmer’s market.  Can’t wait until Friday when I can get some more of that delectable cantaloupe!