Secondhand Nation

Composting Makes You Sexy!

Composting sounds really boring, I know. So I am on a crusade to sexify it, since the tee vee tells me that sex sells.  I mean, how else do you explain the enduring success of David Hasselhoff? 

I decided that my compost bin needed a porn name.  So I rechristened her Backyard Betty. Oooh, sexxxxy! 

Backyard Betty, that sultry, curvy siren lurking behind the lilac bushes, a libidinous, voracious gal who hungers for rubbish!  I should sew her a bodice so she can tug at it while she shakes her lock-flap top at my neighbor Brandon's compost bin.  Brandon's bin is square - that's how you know it's a boy - and sits unblinking right next to several stalks of sweet corn and I don't know his name.  But whatever he's called, I'm sure he never misses Sunday services and parts his hair till it squeaks.  LOSER!

So with duds for prospects, I looked for some other stuff Backyard Betty could toss and turn with while waiting for me to occasionally spray her with the hose. 

Shockingly, I made the scandalous discovery that dryer lint and vacuum cleaner bag contents are no longer recommended for composting.  Naughty!  Clothing with synthetic content creates lint that is not readily biodegradable and the same is true for vacuum cleaners used on synthetic carpets.   Another reason to line-dry and hate carpet! 

Okay, I don't hate carpet.  Carpet is fine! Except for sculptured carpet.  Sculptured carpet can piss off. 

Back to the sex.  Compost = Sex.  Boobies!  Butts!  Sex!  SEX SEX SEX!

Ever wonder what those all those bugs are doing in all that moist, juicy yard waste? Well, they're having lots of ooshy, gooshy SEX!   No, really!  After they eat all the grody bacteria and things break down into gases and um, other stuff happens, they probably lay some eggs or scatter their milt or something.  I assure you, what's going down under that lid is HOTTTT!

So, now that you've been assured that maintaining a hot, sexy compost bin is the only way you'll find happiness and contentment in life, go put on your terry cloth tube top or your Speedo (or both) and check out this nicely color-coded list of other things besides yard waste and kitchen scraps that you can compost.  ROWRRRRR!   

Shredded Newspaper (brown)

Shredded Cardboard (brown)

Sawdust from untreated wood (brown)

Ashes from untreated wood fires (brown)

Woodchip litter from pet rodents (brown)

Human and dog hair (brown)

Aquarium water and algae from freshwater fish tanks (green)

Coffee grounds (including filter) and used tea bags (green)

Leftover bottles of beer from parties (green)

NSFW triple XXX hotttt! composting sources: 

http://www.composting101.com/composting-tips.html

http://www.garden.org/subchannels/care/soil?q=show&id=1357

http://www.diynetwork.com/diy/gr_soil_water/article/0,2029,DIY_13858_4603994,00.html

http://www.organicgardening.com/feature/0,7518,s1-2-21-895,00.html

http://www.marquisproject.com/composting101/howcomp.html

http://greenthumbgoodies.com/Composting/composting_101.htm

http://www.organicgardening.com/feature/0,7518,s1-3-79-829,00.html

http://www.reducerubbish.govt.nz/compost/composting-101.html

http://www.hgtv.com/hgtv/gl_soil_water_mulch/article/0,,HGTV_3634_1399002,00.html

Eco-therapy: bullshit or boon?

A study from the University of Essex is now claiming that taking walks in green spaces helps alleviate depression much more than taking walks in urban centers or shopping malls, prompting mental health organizations to start flogging "eco-therapy" as part of a new solution to better health.

Since my entire family is riddled with depression and anxiety from stem to stern, I'm a bit worried. It's always studies like these that allow clueless laypeople to get loud in bars and holler, "Ya see there!  Get the hell out of your house and you'll feel better!  You don't need a pill for that!"

Actually, Beer-Swilling Genius? I do need a pill for that. 

Because while riddled with anxiety, I was unable to LEAVE my house.  So fuck you, dummy.   I hope no one you love has to deal with these issues, since you're about as sensitive and informed as a used condom.

The longer you don't take medication for brain disorders like depression and anxiety, the longer your neural pathways get nice and familiar with those grim backroutes of the cerebrum which lead you to believe that people hate you and are out to get you, that the world is unfair and mean and hopeless and there is no purpose for anyone, including yourself, to continue inhaling and exhaling. 

So, while Big Pharma is awful and money-grubbing and everything, I admit that I ain't gonna be able to take them on, much less tie my shoes and take a walk, unless I regulate my brain chemistry.  A terrible double bind if there ever was one, yes. But I am not going to waste one more minute of my life being crippled by mental illness, so the anti-corporate principles?  Out of the lifeboat.

I take prescribed mood-stabilizing drugs.  They keep me from losing my mind.  This I believe in as deeply as Stephen Hawking believes in gravity. 

So studies like the eco-therapy one that tend to arrive at these common sense "no shit!" conclusions bother me because I want people like me to feel okay about seeking out drug treatments if they are interested.  I don't want the Beer-Swilling Geniuses to carry the day.  There need not be more stigma about depression or anxiety or bipolar disorder than there should be about diabetes or asthma.  I worry that this type of facile conclusion will inhibit others from inhibiting their serotonin re-uptake. 

But I can't totally knock eco-therapy, either.  It's a cheap supplemental treatment, for sure, and one available to most of us.  And while it rides on the heels of the latest "Carbon Offsets for Leo!" hype, I'm not really surprised that walking in a green space, versus the food court or the mall, makes one feel better.

Whenever I walk in an urban center or go shopping, I am attacked with the "Gimme! Gimmes!"  My thoughts scamper around hysterically - "lookit how cute everyone else is dressed!" and "I really need this! Oh, and that!  And that, too!"  The next thing I know, I am obsessing about my least favorite thing - MONEY.  Nothing like retail shopping for bleakly underscoring one's own dreary economic status.   

Conversely, when I walk around the park by my home, my thoughts are still and very limited: "Don't step in the goose poop" or "look, a heron!"   Perhaps these pedestrian thoughts are so dull that they create a tranquilizing effect on the body.  Whatever.  I'm not complaining. 

Walking around is good for you, in general.  One of my favorite parts of taking a walk is the realization that I cannot do anything else while I am there.  I move my legs, I look at green stuff, maybe I listen to music or the radio. I don't call people on my cell phone or try to cram in any other chores or tasks that need attention.  I walk.  I look around.  I say hello to people who pass me.  I don't compare my wealth to that of the turtles sunning themselves on logs or wonder how that heron keeps herself so slim.  My body moves, my brain does not.  And I never have to open my wallet for any of it.

Got a take on ecotherapy, Big Pharma, mall-walking, the physiques of herons?  Leave me a comment!

No Juice Was Harmed In the Making of This Blog

From the Minneapolis Star Tribune's North metro police report, June 20, 2007:

JUNE 3:  Attempted Theft 

Two men were caught trying to steal boxes of expired juice from a Dumpster outside a business in the 2800 block of S. Anthony Lane.  They were cited for trespassing.  The juice was returned to the Dumpster.   

Oh, good.  So there was a happy ending, after all!  I was worried that the juice might have been abducted and snared into a prostitution scam. 

Three things:

1)  I love the capitalization of "Dumpster" in this instance - the personification really punches up the drama.

2)  I wonder if the trespassers saw the juice get tucked back into its Dumpster-Mommy and tried to go for it again?  In order to avoid such precious items being stolen, perhaps the Dumpster might consider getting an alarm system or at least a dog?  I suppose we'll never know. 

3) I sure feel safer now, knowing those juice-stealing trespassers received citations.   That'll show them!  How dare they try to climb in a Dumpster and...steal juice!  Honestly, what's the world coming to these days?   I don't know, man.  It's sad.  People have turned into these trespassing, juice-entitled assholes.  Whatta world, huh?   

Decorating "Don't" Suddenly a "Do"! More at 11...

A while back, I discussed some decorating do's and don'ts. 

In a shocking reversal, I have now renounced one of my don'ts. 

Yes! It''s all true! I am a flip-flopping, flakey mind-changer when it comes to...window coverings.   

(Long Rambling Aside:  Please don't say "window treatments." The windows aren't looking at inkblot cards or doing affirmations in the mirror.  Unless, of course, they've been subjected to Christopher Lowell for too long.)

For the last two weeks, it's been unbearably hot and my house does not have central air.  Which is okay.  We have a window unit in our bedroom for the unbearable nights but otherwise too much air conditioning gives me an ice cream headache. 

So while I save energy and money without the a/c, to keep comfortable indoors, you really need curtains and currently my windows are all bare naked.  This is because I don't know how to sew and because I hate pre-made curtains which always tend to look like these gems from the 1971 Sears catalog.

(Long Rambling Aside:  Nobody makes curtains in the colors I want!  I want a nice, bright green fabric for my living room curtains.  Not sage green!  Not forest green!  Not lime-spring green!  Bright green!  Goddammit!)

Anyway, my kitchen window had some cafe curtains on clips covering the lower panes.  This was nothing pretty, just an extra-wide dishcloth I'd attached to the rod, which let light (and heat) pour through the upper panes.

So it gets hotter than hell and I had to batten down the hatches and strategically run fans so I could stay comfortable working inside.  After miserably washing dishes in my boiling-hot kitchen, I decided to ditch the cafe curtain.  I hauled out one of my many vintage tableclothes and, as the French say, WALL-AH:

My kitchen was suddenly comfortable!  The blue matches some other stuff not in the picture!  I didn't spend any money or measure anything!  Best of all, everything looks okay from the outside, which is the real test for window coverings.  If the outside world can tell you've just hung up that Led Zepellin Houses of the Holy tapestry you won last year at the Corn Crib's Summer Fun Daze festival, well, then, decorating don'ts are the least of your problems. 

Reminder for Locals: Plant Pot Recycling This Weekend

I know I just mentioned plastic plant pot recycling, but if you live in Minnesota and want to clear out your stash of plastic pots, my local rag  gives a quick mention here.

There are dropsites across the Twin Cities Metro area - click this link for addresses - and head out this weekend, June 23 and 24, Saturday and Sunday, between 9 am and 3 pm.

Pots of all colors will be accepted;  hanging planters should have the hanging cords removed. 

The pots will be ground up into tiny bits and used in recycled landscaping lumber and other kinds of crazy items. 

You know, I don't care if they make toilet bowls or King James Bibles out of them - just keep them out of the landfill!

FREE! The Curb Cache Dilemma

What happens to you when you see a sign like this? 

Do you slam on the brakes and gawk?  Flip a u-turn and screech backwards while simultaneously popping open the trunk?  Jump out and check for animal hair or cat piss and cigarette odors? 

(Long Rambling Aside:  Some people - I'm not saying WHO - like to send young children out of the car to inspect the item, thus preserving their personal adult dignity about giving curbside cast-offs the once-over.  Such people are entirely within their right to utilize children's lack of shame in this way and no one, including 11 year old boys named Sid and 7 year old boys named Owen, needs to give their loving, amazing aunts any type of shit for such behavior in the past.)

While it's one thing to see a FREE sign and hit the brakes for a closer look if you are in a strange neighborhood, it's quite another situation if the items are being offered by one's neighbors. 

This happened to me a few weeks ago after we first moved into our house.  The people across the street, whom I had not met formally, left a bent-wood rocking chair at the end of the driveway, with a hand-scrawled "FREE" sign on it.

At the time, my living room had one loveseat and an armchair, both mercy donations from friends.  While I thought the rocking chair would make a great addition to our spartan living room, I still felt shy about walking across the street and scooping it up.  What if these people - and they are elderly and retired - were watching through the blinds?  Would they feel weird about me helping myself to their chair and having it travel not the globe but just a short hop across the street?  Worse still, did they leave the chair out there purposefully, after noticing our empty living room through our curtainless picture window?  Oh, the embarrassment!  I could imagine their conversation:

"Whaddya think, Marge?  Those young kids, they don't have anything in their living room.  Why don't we leave out the old bentwood rocker?  You and I don't use it anymore."

"Yeah, you're right, Gordie.  We've got our matching Barcaloungers.  And we only use those to when Dateline's on.  We really don't need the bentwood anymore"

"Should I ask them if they need it?"

"Oh, let's not make them feel like they're getting handouts.  Just put it at the end of the driveway with a sign that says "FREE."  That'll let them keep their pride."

"Yup, pride's important to the younger generation...After my nap, I'll go roll it down the driveway.  Should I put the cushion out, too?  It's awful dirty."

"Oh, heaven's yes, they'll need that cushion.  That caning'll bust through if they don't use it.  Maybe you should write that on the note..."

What ended up happening is that the actual snatch-up of the rocker was done by someone else.  My brother-in-law Jeff came over to chat and while we stood on my front step talking, I pointed out the rocker and asked him what he thought.

What he thought was not spoken, since he immediately ran across the street, sat in it and then shuttled it back to my house. 

"It's fantastic," he said.  "You'd be stupid not to take it."

N.B. - There is no shame in letting other, more gregarious types snatch up your "FREE" curb caches for you.  It's either that or go in the dead of night.   

The Recycling Ranger has a funny post about what he calls "curb crawlin" or "duckin" down alleys here that includes some ways to deal with people who catch you while you're pawing through a trash stash.  These practices are not limited to crusty freegans, the poor and the homeless - check out  the Suburban Scavenger's blog for more trash-hunting stories. 

(Long Rambling Aside:  I have never dug through anyone's trash or recycling bins - hello, identity theft freakouts - but will admit to grabbing a piece of furniture or shelving or something that's sitting beside the bins if I like it.  I'm not convinced vigorous treasure hunting through someone's bins and bags is worth the effort or risks - both legal and to one's human dignity.  Actually, I'm pretty sure ripping through trash bags on your own turf won't win you any home-baked brownies from your neighbors.  Instead, you're likely to become That Weirdo on the Block.  Like the Childless Assholes Who Always Yell at Kids and their bucket of confiscated kickballs, and the Denizens of the House of Ill-Repute where the music blasts at all hours and nobody mows the lawn, being the Weirdo isn't one of my personal goals. One ought to strive to be a Brownie-Getter, in my view.)

The Bentwood Rocker, with its new family:

 

How to Set the Bedroom on Fire with Sexy Recycling Tips...Tonight!

I'm worried that the concept of "recycling" has lost its cachet.

I know, I know.  Grab the ripcord, everyone!

photo credit:  William W. Hinkley Center for Solid and Hazardous Waste Management

But I feel sorry for boring old recycling.  Now the sexy eco watch words seem to be things like "carbon offsets" and "biodynamic wine"-- these are the alluring, cleavage-revealing lipstick lesbians of the sustainability movement, while "recycling" has become the grouchy, unsmiling militant separatist butch with a shaved head.

It's too bad, because for most people, recycling is one of the most direct ways to help the environment every day.  And a recent report from The Economist (an old unsmiling butch of a magazine itself) suggests that recycling is happening globally, though with some fits and gaps one might expect.

photo credit: Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, FSA-OWI Collection, LC-USE6- D-001549, 1940-1946.  Photographer, Alfred T. Palmer

The photo above is from the Library of Congress American Memories Collection and was a part of the Office of War Information's effort to promote conservation during wartime.  The photo's title is: 

"Waste paper. Destined for destruction, this household rubbish heap contains waste paper so badly needed today for conversion into the paper packing in which defense and lend-lease goods are shipped. Paper is one of the materials with which Americans have been most profligate, only now they are beginning to conserve paper along with many."

Quite the knuckle-smacker, huh?  Especially since it dates back to 1940.  This means our great-grandparents and grandparents were being told to recycle more than half a century ago.  (And knowing my grandmother, frugal pack-rack she was, she didn't have to be told at all - she even saved the elastic waistbands to my grandpa's briefs when the rest of them had blown out.  Hardcore!  Also, eww. ) 

So, this week, reinvigorate your dedication to recycling.

Visit the Reduce Your Rubbish website to get yourself all pumped up again about recycling and its benefits. It's a New Zealand-based site and they use the word "rubbish" constantly. (Long Rambling Aside: I love the word "rubbish" so much! I'm going to start sneering and sputtering "Why, that's rubbish!" every chance I get.)

Anyway, what's really got me lately is reducing waste. I'm sick of buying things and paying for the container they came in, which merely gets tossed when emptied. I mean, I'm somewhat creative, but how can I re-use a tube of toothpaste or squeeze container of St. Ives body scrub? There's only so many macaroni-and-empty-toothpaste-tube art projects my kid can make.

And dammit, why should the fact that I like apricot exfoliator become the planet's problem?

One way to deal with this is to let the manufacturer know directly. Look on the back of your favorite product that comes in this type of cradle-to-grave-designed container and email, call or write them a letter. Tell them that you'd appreciate a container that could be reused or made out of quickly biodegradable materials.

photo credit:  Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, FSA-OWI Collection,LC-USE6- D-001550.  Children dumping garbage into one of the incinerators. Ida B. Wells Housing Project, Chicago, Illinois, 1942.  Photographer: Jack Delano

If you've got extra nerve, ask the manufacturer's to tell their design team to pull their heads out of their heinies and read William McDonough and Michael Braungart's paradigm-smashing book Cradle to Cradle. Tell them you are tired of paying to haul away junk that pollutes and will happily do without their products until they provide you with a waste = food alternative. 

Another way to put pressure on companies to minimize their packaging waste is to give direct feedback to the retailer. Target is constantly putting feedback surveys on the bottom of purchase receipts that invite customers, er, I mean, guests, to respond to surveys about their shopping experiences. While I don't feel it's necessary to explain to them the inner workings of my tortured human soul, every chance I get, I fill out  these surveys with the following requests for:

• Less packaging on products I like to buy, including the specific brands I like
• Re-usable bags or a discount for reusing bags (always name-dropping IKEA's reusable bags just  to be a dick)
• Locally-produced food versus organic food that's traveled across the globe ten times before it crosses my plate, always mentioning the better deals to be had at area farmer's markets

These big box retailers are a huge pain in the ass, but they sure pay attention if enough customers, or uh, I mean, GUESTS, bitch about things.  These behemoths understand one thing - the cha-ching - so bring the wallet smack-down and perhaps we'll get somewhere.  

Getting Off My Can

Have you ever preserved food with home canning?

I've got canning on the brain these days.  I can't stop thinking about food and health and sustainability.  Chalk it up to hearing Michael Pollan speak on NPR or Marion Nestle on The Splendid Table or my obsessions and failings about eating and nutrition or the fact that I want to save money wherever and whenever possible - whatever the cause, I'm convinced I've got to do some serious canning this summer. 

When I was growing up, each summer my mother used to can pickles, peaches, pears, tomatoes and crab apple jelly.  I remember listening for the sealed jars to pop as they rested on dishtowels spread over the counter.  And I loved it when she opened a mason jar of pears for me to eat at lunchtime.  She taught me how to can tomatoes, which I have done exactly three times, because she finds tomatoes to be the easiest canning recipe to learn.

Though I came to hate pickles as an adult, the idea of canned fruit sounds luscious, especially in the dark days of winter up here in Zone 5 where nothing more exotic than a cold-frame potato is available locally in winter.  In frigid February, canned berry jam sounds decadent and fabulous. And canned tomatoes?  I use them constantly.  One of my most favorite easy dinners involves a can of tomatoes, 3 cloves of garlic, salt and pepper and spaghetti.

This summer I'm fixing to can some berries, pears, peaches and tomatoes.  I've got to figure out where to get some peaches and pears that have any flavor (Russ Parson's' new book How To Pick a Peach is also weighing heavily on me lately). And in mid-July the husband and I plan to head out to Bauer Berry Farm and bring home a whole mess of blueberries to freeze and preserve in jam.  (I'm voting for freezing;  he thinks they'll freezer burn and would rather try jam.) 

What do you like to can?  What would you like to can? Who taught you how to do it?  I'd love to hear your stories, see photos of your prized preserves and get your recipes -- comment below or email me at:  secondhandnation AT hotmail DOT com    

photo:  The Jeffersontown, Kentucky Community Cannery, started by the WPA. Women paid three cents each for cans and two cents per can for use of the pressure cooker to can home-grown vegetables. (Library of Congress WPA collection, LC-USW3-034355-C DLC, Howard Hollem, photographer.) 

eBay: Eco-Economy Superstar or Capitalist Pig Supervillain?

Let's talk about eBay, baby!

Here's an interesting article about the "rationality" of consumer behavior on eBay.  I find it hilarious that anyone would use the word "rational" when discussing online auctions.  Everything I've bought in an online auction has been kooky, quirky shit like hobnail milk glass butter dishes or Hawaiian lava art -- bizarre, unnecessary things that I had bought in a frenzy that was anything but rational. 

Anyway, that's probably not the meaning of 'rational' when applied to economics and since I hated Econ in college, let's don't discuss it. 

More interesting to me is whether eBay really is about re-using items.  The commercials for eBay suggest that it's the only place in the world you can find special childhood mementos - indeed, my husband recently bid his way down memory lane with a purchase of The Speedy Little Taxi, his favorite childhood book (that was also a record!)  - but it seems that Ebay has also become an enormous marketplace for all kinds of new garbage, too. 

What's your stance on eBay?  What do you go there to buy?  Is it a new revolution that's cleaning out closets across the globe or just more of the same junk-peddling nonsense?

The Dark Side of Green: Recycling Plastic Planter Pots

This recent article from the Chicago Tribune makes an unsettling point:  in creating the lush, boutiful landscapes around our own homes, we're producing a shit-ton of non-recyclable waste.

The culprit isn't you and your fertile intentions.  It's the damn plastic pots and flats that come with those greenhouse purchases and the plastic bags of soil and mulch:  most are made of non-recyclable plastic and end up in the land-fill.

I'm guilty of this, too.  My own potting bench is full of small flats and cups that I can't bring myself to toss - the Angel of my Better Nature - ABN - keeps insisting I'll use them for seed starters next year - and while I've meant to return the plastic flat bins used to cart the plants home with, I've usually tossed them, too.  (If your ABN also tells you this, go here to find out how to clean out the plastic pots safely.) 

What to do?

In Minnesota, where I live, there's a movement to recycle plant pots.  Go here for more information about where and when to drop them off.  They cannot take cell packs at this time, but other plant pots, of any size or color, are welcome. 

For those out of state, try googling the exact phrase "plastic garden pot recycling" -- tons of options pop up.

What else to do?  Some people I know crumple up or tear the cell packs into smaller bits as filler for larger pots.  (Though purists might take offense to using petroleum-derived products near plants!)  Other people avoid bringing home the plastic flat by bringing a cardboard box when they shop for green goodies - my ABN is always harping at me about that, too.

Another simple way to reduce this waste is to buy more perennials vs. annuals, which require fewer trips to the store and less work.

(Long Rambling Aside:  Personally, I hate annuals.  Yeah, they're pretty and all, but whatta pain in the ass!  Every year, replanting, sucking up the water, dumping out the pots, clearing out the garden!  All when I could be doing crosswords or reading books?  It's total bullshit!  I'll admit that I don't like to garden for the sake of squatting down and getting all dirty and sweaty.  Weeding, dithering around in the yard - no thanks.  No, I like to garden for the sake of getting good food or herbs or creating habitat for bees and other critters and absorbing heat from the city and preventing water run-off to my basement or the sewer.  If I want to hang out in the yard, I'll hang some laundry or park it in a lawnchair.  Putting up hanging baskets of petunias each year?  Please. It just sounds like more decorating and I can barely get the interior of my home to look the way I'd like.  Hence, therefore, ergo, thus - annuals can suck it.) 

If you've got ideas about how to reuse that stream of plastic pots, send me an email or leave a comment!   

Laundry List

Sweet suffering one-eyed Jesus! 

Now we're giving fish sexual identity hang-ups just by washing our clothes in detergents that leach toxic chemicals into the water supply!

This is ridiculous!  Even chores people hate are killing the planet.

It''s high time I preach the gospel of laundry to y'all. I've been itching to start evangelizing about this topic, anyway, since these days, I'm madly in love with my laundry line.  Isn't she a real sweetheart?   

(Extra Brag:  I don't even buy new clothspins!   Every time I hit up a thrift store, I check their bagged-up items and have been consistently lucky.) 

Here are some ideas for greening your laundry so that washing yer dirty undies doesn't make boy fish into girl fish.

First, make sure the laundry soap you use isn't full of phosphates and shit that cause algal blooms and the aforementioned intersexed fish.  Here are some good places to start:

Annie Berthold-Bond, DIY Green Clean Goddess!

Sweet Grass Farm's Laundry Soap

Solay Simple Himalyan Salt Laundry Soap

Mrs. Meyers

Caldrea

More Products & DIY Recipes

Second, if the weather and your living arrangement permit, hang your laundry outdoors.  Question any neighborhood association covenant stipulations against outdoor laundry lines -- advocate for changing such rules in defense of the planet!  This is a growing movement - check out the Laundry List's blog - and you are not alone!  Your neighbor's clean laundry, flapping happily in the breeze, should never be compared to a junker car on blocks or rusting broken appliances.

(Long Rambling Aside: neighborhood association rules tend to suck ass!  Some of them act like they've been elected the Royal Beige Police.  Excuse me, I don't want to live in U-Taupe-ia. Concentrate on dealing with the meth labs and that bitch screaming at her grandkids that she's gonna "beat their ass!" and back off about oversize basketball hoops and lawn ornaments.) 

I realize that having a dryer is handy, but you really should give the sun something to do besides hand out skin cancer to everyone.  Sunlight is a powerful bleaching agent that makes your clothes smell heavenly.  Wouldn't you rather get out of the dingy basement and chat with neighbors while putting that solar power to work and lowering your gas bill?

Third, avoid the dry cleaner.  Use a wet-cleaner, if you must.  The nasty stuff the dry cleaning process releases into the environment is hair-raising. 

If that's not enough badgering, here's some more laundry tips from Treehugger here. 

There is one catch to all this laundry love - I hate putting away my clothes!  I wait breathlessly for my friend Amber's invention of the clothes storage system that incorporates laundry baskets instead of drawers.  Come on, Amber!  Patent that shit and make millions!

Change Your Evil Ways, Part IV

Potting benches, bah!

What, are you some kinda corseted Victorian lady with a parasol and a $3,000 watering cart from Smith and Hawken?  Can't pot your flowers on the picnic table like the rest of us? 

I know home stores have nice-looking potting benches you can purchase new.  For new homeowners, it's tempting to imagine oneself as some refined, uber-organized Martha-bot: planting cutting gardens and hand-twining up the tomato vines and transplanting on a reliable schedule, every six months, with a lovely potting bench as a practical, attractive workstation...

Snap out of it!  Potting benches are a huge waste of cash! (300 smackers for this simple thing?!) Plus you gotta fiddle around and assemble everything yourself, which just fritters more of your finite time on earth.

Instead, cruise your alleys and streets on trash day, with an eye for people who are doing kitchen remodeling.  (Here are some clues to look for:  a constant stream of junk left out for the trash hauler, a fine drywall dust covering everything in sight and the fact they're getting a divorce.) 

You may get lucky and score something like this:

Oh my sweet and creamy lord!  Isn't this dreamy?  My neighbor Amber found this gem abandoned on a street corner - poor little orphan - with the intention of incorporating it into her own kitchen.  Lucky for me, that day never came and I swiped it from her trash stash one weekend when she cleaned out her garage in recent junk purge.  Thank you, Amber  *air guitars*

The nifty red formica counter is easy to wipe clean and the drawer contains seeds, hose nozzles, pruning shears and other hand tools I'm constantly losing.  The cupboard has two shelves and stores bulbs and extra pots.  If you're worried the wood might rot, seal with some spray gloss. (I plan to store mine away during the winter.)  And if you need more storage and prep space than I do, I'm quite certain there will be more displaced kitchen cupboards for the taking - just check out places like The ReUse Store in Minneapolis. 

Don't follow the potting bench herd!  Be unique!  Why spend cash when you can re-use trash?

New Found Glory: What You Gotta Get New

Okay.  So I'm into thrifting, reusing, recycling and saving money.  This blog makes that abundantly clear.

But in case you're saying to yourself, "Hey, I'm all eco and stuff, but not all of us are going to dumpster dive for our dinner.  And if nobody bought stuff new, then there would be no secondhand market, right?  Not everyone can act like you, Miss High Horse Muse of Re-use!"

In which case, it's safe to say you might consider leaving my blog entirely (clicking on my Amazon product pitches and buying some of them new, directly, of course.)

But, if you're still reading, be completely assured that, yes, I buy things new.  And while I might alley surf and eye my neighbor's trash stash on garbage day, I do not dumpster dive.  I buy groceries at Cub and SuperTarget and the farmer's market when it's open.  The saving money thing?  Is intentional.  You can't buy experiences like vacations, massages and concert tickets used, of course.  What else should you buy in the primary market?  Check out my short list of...

What You Can't Buy Resale

1)  Make-up.  Now, I'm sure some folks swap goods in make-up forums and buy high-end moisturizers and eyeshadows on eBay, but I am not one of them.  I don't want get pink eye from other people's mascara or deal with bits of foreign mouth skin in my lip gloss.  I buy new lipglosses every 7 days and new mascara every five years.   And I'm a drugstore make-up chick, too, though someday I hope to have enough scratch to buy the top drawer stuff.

2)  Socks and Underpants.  I don't think I need to explain this.  Surely, you can get stuff with the tags on - I'm not saying you can't.  But generally, it's just...ick.  Especially when you consider what kids like to do with undies:

3)  Lotion and Hair Products.  Okay, so maybe one time I caved and bought a ton of Bumble and Bumble samples I saw at a thrift store.  Hugest mistake ever!  It was terrible stuff for my hair, which is naturally the texture of an Amish broomstick, and I ended up with a frizzy, greasy 'do that made me want to cry.  I've learned my lesson.  Save the dollars and spend them on the good stuff:  LUSH, Aveda, Bumble and Bumble (from an authorized reseller, natch), DevaCurl, The Body Shop.

4) Cutting Boards and Cookware.  Man, buying cutting boards is just too dicey (tee hee, nice pun). Since eating a hamburger can cause brain-melting death these days, risking exposure to the evil that lurks beneath someone else's scratched-up surface is not anything I want to contemplate. 

And cookware is the same:  no Teflon Stir-fry for me, thanks.  Obviously, there are exceptions -- I did score a couple of Le Creuset enamel saute pans that were in perfect condition once -- but generally, if you need to fry something or cut something open, just go buy a new one.

5)  Brawls.  You know, the things you put yer boobs in?  Mine are sorta hefty.  See below graphic.   

(.)(.)   <-- not actual size.

My gals are high maintainance and only the best will do in terms of support.  Once a year, I steal a sack of gold from an ogre so I can buy a ton of new bras at Nordstrom:  Wacoal, Chantelle, Lunaire, Goddess, Felina.  I take care of these beauties and they last forever.  But you don't see these high-rollers of the lingerie world in my natural downscale habitat.  Mama gots to get her shower on and dress real nice once in a while, so off to Nordstrom I go.

6)  Magazines.  Okay, sure, some thrift stores sell current magazines and I confess to having picked them up if there's an interesting recipe or article.  But because I am a writer, I like to have stacks and stacks of the latest glossy goodness in my hands. 

(Long Rambling Aside:  furthermore, you may have noticed my magazine links and yes, dammit, I love Domino and Lucky, two of the best balls-out consumerist rags out there.  My favorite thing about Lucky and Domino is that they don't try to have a story on female genital mutilation right next to a nude Kate Moss covering her boobies with a designer handbag.  Instead of stuffing the "faux journalism" next to the fashion, Lucky and Domino get right down to the point, which is, of course, the stuff.  After a long shitty day, there's nothing like being lulled into dumb contentment by bright photo spreads of shoes and handbags that only bajillionaires can afford.)

For those of you who do like buying used mags, you're not completely bonkers.  Check out my bitchin' office trash can, fully made from an industrial ice cream bucket, coated wire and rolled up glossy mag pages:

 

Therein ends the list, which is surely not comprehensive.  Further sins in thrift and resale merch acquisition to come, so sit tight for confessions of some of my more unlikely, edgier purchases.

How To Decorate Your Home: Do's and Don'ts

DO

• Display collections.  Better yet, collect things you can USE.  Collecting thimbles from all 50 states might be fun, but consider collections that you can actually put in service.  Lamps, dishes, tablecloths, dishtowels are all easy and cheap things to collect.
• Hang up your kid's art work.  Go beyond the fridge, where things get ruined and stained.  Put their work up on closet doors, in your office area, in their bedrooms.
• Frame photos of family and friends and put them all over.  Avoid the wall of fame along the hallway or stairs if possible - the light isn't usually good there anyway.  Mix it up - people get photo fatigue no matter how cute your kids are. 
• Scissor out art prints from books you like and frame them.  So you can't afford the print - so what?  We can't all run with the Sotheby's crowd, but you should still enjoy the art work you like to see.
• Decorate with your books. Put them out on shelves and lace the shelves with tchotkes from travel and life.  This encourages literacy and promotes conversation.  Separate the books you've read from those you haven't read;  this helps give you an idea of your own literacy.
• Hide the trashcan under the sink.  Nobody wants to see that stinky, stained thing.
• Accept the gift of clutter.  If we all get real about the fact that life makes things untidy, perhaps we'll relieve some of the societal pressure to keep things spotless, which is a holy waste of time and effort, anyway.
• Rethink your need for window treatments.  We all want privacy, but consider if anyone really can see you.  Consider using frosted spray paint in your bathroom instead of dealing with measuring and hanging curtains.  Window treatments date your house rilly rilly fast - why not spend your time doing something else besides updating dumb home decor?
• Pursue decorating that makes you feel good and supports your own living habits.  Keep books by the rooms you like to read in, store shoes where you like to slip them on and off, put the tv in the kitchen if you like to watch it while cooking.
• Paint!  Got an ugly end table?  Spray paint it!  If you don't like it, you've not lost much time or money.  Paint kitchen shelves, make polka dots on the walls in children's rooms, paint one wall a different color from its opposite.  Before you bother to spend any money on decor or furniture, ask yourself "Would a little color change how I feel about this room?"
• Embrace color.   Only dentists office decorate in beige.  Each room should have a palette of at least 3 colors bouncing off each other. Then take one color and bounce it down to the next room, with 2 different colors.  This creates a pleasing harmony throughout your home.

DON'T

• Buy into pre-packaged "themes" like lighthouses or Hawaiian Tiki bar.  Unless you happen to be a harbor master or living in the South Pacific, nobody's house is a lighthouse or a tiki bar.  Accept the fact of where you live and honor each room for its purpose.  If you don't like the room's purpose, well, you are the owner of the house...
• Use anything for a curtain that isn't actually a curtain (with one exception:  you may use dishtowels for cafe curtains ala Martha Stewart)
• Let the cords from TVs and stereos show.  Find a way to cover them with furniture or secure them along the baseboards with a staple gun. 
• Be stuffy.  Insisting on having rooms that you won't use very often, like dining rooms or look-but-don't-touch sitting parlors, is a waste of space.  This ain't the 18th century. Go here for more ideas how to use space. 
• Buy overstuffed furniture.  Overstuffed furniture does not want to be sat on.  It just wants to sit there, getting larger and larger until you worry it might rise up and eat your entire family.
• Act like a phony baloney.  Buying "repro" art prints at Target or Ikea that suggest your home is a French bistro or a jazz club is ridiculous. Unless you live with the Marsallis brothers or the corpse of Jean-Paul Sartre, your home is neither.
• Try to do it all at once.  Think of your home as an evolving art project, with each room changing and adapting along with your life.  As you accumulate experiences, travel treasures, books, art, and wisdom, let your home reflect these changes.