Confessions of an exhausted perfectionist

Last night, while driving home from my daughter's dance class, that song came on the radio with the repeating lyric, "I don't wanna be anything other that what I've been trying to be lately."  I've never really listened to the song before, and it's not even my taste in music, but I did listen this time.  And a huge wave of realization hit me that I have spent my life holding myself up to standards that are a bit overwhelming.

And one part of it is this commitment to living sustainably in a world that makes it increasingly difficult.  After several weeks of attempting to make my own shampoo, dish soap, and automatic dish detergent, I became very frustrated with the results.  I broke down and bought factory-made products without phosphates, and now my hair and dishes are clean.

I have this sense of personal responsibility for all of the problems in the world.  I listed to NPR compulsively, and feel a desire to publicly apologize for all of the crap my country does to and says about the rest of the world.  I collect piles of plastic and styrofoam packaging in my studio with the intention of embedding it in concrete sculpture or finding some other use for it, effectively keeping it out of the waste stream.  I wash all of my plastic food storage bags and reuse them until they have holes.  I make every effort to incorporate homegrown vegetables into my meals, and to make things from scratch, soaking dried beans, extracting honey, and - even in February - harvesting broccoli from the greenhouse.

Beyond that, I have psychoses up the wazoo.  There's the drive to become a highly skilled artist in my medium and to make my business successful.  There's the need to stay fit and healthy and stylish on almost no budget.  There's my quiet complex over never having achieved a graduate degree, which eats away at my self-esteem, and ties in with the urge to be intelligent and well-informed.  And then there's my constant fear that I'm not as great at parenting as I thought I would be, I can't keep up with housecleaning and bookeeping, and I am just not a very good cook.  And all of that is just the tip of it.

So, here's my confession:  I hate cooking and cleaning.  (Especially cooking.)  That's why I'm not good at it.  I sometimes buy turkey burger that is probably from a factory farm and comes in a styrofoam tray.  I rarely shop at the co-op because it is not at all conveniently located for me.  When I'm in town and need to get cheap food in a hurry, I go to Taco Bell.  That's right, Taco Bell!  Now and then I get a hankering for a latte when I don't have my disposable cup, and you know what?  I buy it anyway.  Plastic lid and all!  (Thank you to Batdorf & Bronson, by the way, for the compostable coffee lids.)  While I provide my chickens with lots of good table scraps, I do not buy organic feed.  It's expensive and not locally available (though I've been fretting about that lately.)  We don't have curbside glass recycling, so I sometimes throw glass bottles RIGHT IN THE TRASH.  (Usually, I keep them in various piles in and out of my house, which I plan to use as building material this summer.)  And, to top it all off, I sometimes just wish I could go back to making cute, crafty mosaic that doesn't belong in any self-respecting exhibit, but is fun and easy.

So there.  It's time to give myself some well-deserved breaks.  I'm 42 and yes, I now wear a size 8.  I also ate an entire pint of Chubby Hubby in one sitting two weeks ago.  I'm getting wrinkles.  There are tufts of dog fur floating around my house and the windows are all covered in dog nose smudges that have been building up for years.  And I've been reconciling my entire year's bank statements over the past week to prepare for doing taxes.  Oh, and one more thing: I hardly ever floss.

I'm not saying it isn't worthwhile to have convictions and to live according to them.  But I'm ready to let up on myself a bit and not to feel guilty about every little transgression.  Here's another confession:
We are getting ready to take a Caribbean Cruise.  I don't want to think about what cruise ships may or may not do to the environment or how shallow it is to visit the tourist area of Jamaica for only 6 hours.  I am excited to take my first ever relaxation vacation, to soak up some sun, eat indulgently, and play on water slides to my heart's desire.

Maybe after that, I'll be ready to come home and continue to singlehandedly save the Earth.

Communication Glitch

I am writing offline today, and will need to post when I can either get to a hotspot, or when Centurylink finally restores my internet service.  Last week, our area was hit by a record-breaking snowstorm.  Having grown up in Michigan, I still have a hard time taking our “snowstorms” seriously, but it really is amazing how a foot of snow here is completely debilitating.

The heavy snow and ice weighed down trees, so that the landscape is littered with huge broken branches, and many trees are split right down the middle.  Many smaller trees are permanently bowed, and you can almost hear them muttering, “Oh, my aching back!”  Power was lost all over Western Washington.  At first, people were heading to hotels and spending time at the mall and cafes.  But then, even those businesses lost power.  We spoke to a waitress with a disabled child who reported having hauled her son and his equipment from her home to those of family members, but each location lost power.  She finally booked a hotel room, but the hotel lost power, and the whole experience had been very stressful for her.

As for us, we were snowed in and our electricity turned on and off over the course of two days.  It went out for several hours both evenings, so we had to make dinner and find ways to entertain ourselves in the dark, but we were safe at home with plenty of food and the woodstove.  In fact, we each had charged handheld electronic devices, so we could read and play games in the candlelight.

Our friends in the city were not so lucky.  One family of 5 described how they stayed huddled under blankets for warmth.  A friend was desperately trying to contact her elderly grandmother, who lives alone and was without heat or phone.  Grocery stores had to donate much of their stock before it spoiled, and a lot of income was lost as nearly all business activity came to a halt for about a week.

And then a warm front came through, and the snow started melting fast.  Now we are approaching flood stage in many areas, and the rain keeps coming.  Additionally, we had high winds yesterday, further damaging trees and blowing broken branches onto power lines.

Since the blackouts, our internet has been constantly going on and off.  We could check email, but often replies were lost because the signal vanished while we were sending.  I had a technician come out yesterday, who replaced my router and modem and was re-wiring connections when he received a call with some bad news.  He went to lunch, saying he could finish the job from outside, as I needed to leave.  When we came home, we found that we had no internet signal at all, plus, NO PHONE.

I can handle power outages, but I can’t stand this inability to communicate with the outside world.  We had another blackout last night, so no clocks, no alarm to get us up on time, no way for Mike to call work.  Plus, they are doing state testing today, so it would be a very bad day for a teacher to be late.  We kept waking up to check my Nook for the time, and then the power came back on, gratefully.  (Getting ready for school and work in the dark would have been difficult.)  I sent Mike and Anouk off to work and school knowing that neither of them would be able to contact me today.  Mike has a long, rural commute in the dark, through pelting hail, after a night of high winds that undoubtedly left many obstructions on the roads.

Last night, I drove 1.5 miles to a cell phone signal and called Centurylink.  It took about a month’s-worth of minutes, many transfers, and frustrating conversations with two indifferent customer service reps and one recorded voice system to submit a request for repair.  Unfortunately, no one can contact me to set up a time, so I just have to hope someone comes before I need to leave this afternoon.

All of this has reinforced my commitment to living the way we do.  We have piles of  wood and  3 different buildings with woodstoves on our property.  We have a pantry and extra freezer full of food, plus fresh eggs.  We have a drawer full of batteries, a selection of flashlights, and a stash of candles (which we need to re-stock now.)  Anouk has a little flashlight that doesn’t require batteries, and while it is a pain to use, it sure came in handy when the power first went out and we needed to find other light sources.  We have 3 lights that stay in outlets, but when the power goes out, they turn on.  One then becomes a flashlight, holding its charge for a long time (at least, it never ran out during our outages.)  I am thinking of picking up more of these emergency lights.  The ones that stay plugged only last about an hour, but I put one over the kitchen counter and one in the bathroom, and they were invaluable.  I also keep several gallons of water for when we run out, though we didn’t need them this time.

I also remembered that Mike had an old transistor am radio from his childhood, and I was surprised to find that it was in perfect working order!  There was something very comforting in being able to listen to the news, including descriptions of people skiing and snowboarding in the streets of Olympia.

That brings me to the thing I do regret about living out here in emergencies; community.  We just hunker down in the quiet and darkness at these times.  We rely only on our own resources.  Mike hates the isolation, and becomes claustrophobic and short tempered.  I envy our friends who probably bundled up and went for walks in the silent streets of the city, joined with nearby friends, played in the snow, and made the best of a bad situation as a group.  Where there’s power, there are cafes and grocery stores, accessible by foot if not by car.  Today, I am tempted to leave home, just so I can find wi-fi and use my cell phone to be in touch with the rest of the world.  I have not been without a phone since severe Michigan weather as a child and I hate it.

So, I have written all of this out on my laptop, but I can’t post it.  I should probably just go to work in the studio, though I feel anxious and unsettled.  I hope someone from Centurylink shows up soon.

Experiments in homemade cleaning products

The other day, I played with a shampoo recipe I found in a book.  It called for 1/4 cup herbal tea, 8 oz. liquid castille soap, and 2 tsp. light oil.  I used green tea and mint for the tea portion, added some honey, and I happened to have calendula-infused olive oil (heavier, but infused after all.)  The recipe said to simmer the combination over heat, which I did not do.  This may be the problem.

The shampoo smells great, but it's runny.  I added salt, which has thickened my castille soap products nicely in the past, but it didn't have any effect on this mixture.  I have it in a squirt-bottle, which allows me to apply it directly to my hair.  I was disappointed in my initial shampooing experience.  I felt like I needed shampoo to rinse out my shampoo.  There was a light stickiness while my hair was still wet, which is probably from the honey.

Once my hair was dry, it was fine.  In fact, it felt thicker and more controllable than usual.   I will try heating the mixture now and see if I can thicken it, plus I should add glycerin for moisture retention and easier rinsability and some tea tree oil for extra cleaning power.  I'll report back.  All in all, it was a good first attempt, but it needs some adjusting.

Yesterday, I followed a recipe for homemade dishwasher detergent.  This called for a 1-to-1 ratio of citric acid and washing powder, plus essential oils.  That's all.  I had citric acid, which I ordered online to make bath fizzies.  Washing powder can be found in the detergent section at any grocery store, and is useful for many cleaning products.  I added lavender and tea tree oils, which smell clean and fresh.  Both have antiseptic properties - good for cleaning, no?

My first load of dishes came out as clean as when I use any store-bought detergent.  The downside is that, when I went to use the mix this morning, it had stiffened.  I had to bust up the powder with a metal spoon, and it was flying all over the kitchen.  I suppose there is some chemical they add to commercial detergents to maintain the powdery consistency, and I'm hoping to figure out a solution.

Today, I need to make liquid dish soap, because I'm plum out.

"Why are you doing all of this, rather than simply buying it pre-made from a store?"  one might wonder.  Part of it is my stubborn urge for self-sufficiency.  Part is the fun of mixing stuff up, adding nice smells, and seeing what happens (reminds me of being a kid.)  My biggest goal has been to reduce the number of plastic containers we have to recycle or toss out.  Even if we manage to recycle all of our bottles, we send a ton of caps and dispensers to the landfill.  However, I have had to face the fact that all of the ingredients I use come in plastic containers with caps.  Eventually, I hope to find a source that will allow me to refill my containers.

I'll try to keep updating my progress as I play with these recipes and let you know what works and what doesn't.

Small town - open mind.

Having grown up in a very rural area of Michigan in the 1970s and 1980s, I fled for the West Coast at the age of 18, eager to join a world of riot grrls and grunge bands and people who use words like "paradigm" and "appropriation" in everyday vocabulary.  When I occasionally returned to mid-Michigan to visit family, it was like a slap in the face to hear racial and homophobic slurs cast around by the local residents, and to recognize how different the culture really was where I was raised from my new, chosen community.

But, in my early 30s, I found myself living well outside of any city limits, inextricably drawn to solitude and natural surroundings.  I spent the first 5 years out here deliberately avoiding any real interaction with the local community.  My social life was limited to the many friends I had made in Olympia and Seattle, and that was just fine.  I assumed that a small town on the West Coast would be just about the same as a small town anywhere else; i.e. full of right wing extremists, gun wielding libertarians, and people who hate anyone who doesn't look the same, eat the same foods, and practice the same religion.

When my daughter was 3, I enrolled her in a co-op preschool in Elma, only 6 miles from our house.  She attended for 2 hours, 2 days a week, and I was required to volunteer each month.  This put me in direct contact with other people living out here in the sticks, and I was terrified.  However, I was pleasantly surprised by many of the parents involved in the co-op.  I made friends with two of the moms, both amazing people with incredible talents and insights.  One of the dads was from Darfur, and had a story that was fascinating, tragic, and absolutely triumphant.

At the age of 5, my daughter entered kindergarten.  We enrolled her in the small, 3-room schoolhouse that was the original school for Grays Harbor County.  With only 50 students through 6th grade, it was pretty insulated, and that was a deliberate choice.  Anouk's kindergarten teacher had been a student at the school as a child, 55 years prior.  At the same time, I took a part-time job at a local building supply company, and forced myself to engage with a new section of the community.  Again, I met some lovely people, and I was impressed with the intelligence, kindness, and generosity of the people I met both at work, and at the school.  Granted, I'm a white, able-bodied person, and I may have had a different experience otherwise.  But, it was clear that this small community has a different atmosphere from the one near which I grew up.

Now, I have moved Anouk to the public elementary school where she attends 3rd grade.  It is still quite small, but it is innately connected to the town.  She loves to participate in local events, so we have found ourselves at football games, Santa greetings, craft fairs, Halloween parties, and more.  We see many familiar faces at all of these events, and I am pretty sure we are becoming familiar faces to the local people here.  The more I engage with this town, the more I'm impressed with the friendliness, intelligence, and work ethic that seems to be common among the people here.  I do not know who is "liberal" and who is "conservative" based on my conversations with people.  I've met folks rumored to be republican, only to find that we discuss issues of animal cruelty and sustainable agriculture, and these are shared values.  Sure, I've run into the mom who practically spits when she tells me someone gave her daughter a temporary tattoo (tattoos = evil) and the Variety Store owner once made a provocative comment about the phrase "Merry Christmas" vs. "Happy Holidays."  But, more often, I have heard people expound that everyone should be kind to each other, and I have seen local teenagers with t-shirts that say "Join the Inclusion Revolution."

I will say, on more recent visits to Michigan, people there have also changed.  I no longer hear my relatives use derogatory language, and my extended family is becoming incredibly ethnically diverse.  We are no longer Polish-Lithuanian.  We are now Polish-Lithuanian-Mexican-Japanese and then some.  I suspect the internet has changed small town mentality.  As a kid, when we visited other areas of the country, it felt like going into the future about 10 years.  Fashion statements like headbands, legwarmers and feather roach clips (for hair) were unheard of in my small school, along with social equality, feminism, and Howard Zinn.  The internet has granted everyone the same access to information everywhere, and it seems like a positive change.

The most surprising part of this experience has been the realization that, in larger cities, people seem more separated by their beliefs.  When I visit Olympia friends, we generally share political views, eating habits (with small variations), and lifestyle choices.  It is a given.  We do not intermingle with those who do not share our values, at least not on an intimate level.  Out here, I have not felt a sense of separation based on dogma.  There is a very good chance I am wrong, since I am still on the fringes.  I don't attend a church or work in town.  But, I do try to patronize local businesses as often as possible, and I chat with people, and I just don't get a sense of division.  In fact, people surprise me constantly with thoughtful, philosophical ponderings about having a positive attitude and trying to spread it around.

By assuming that small-town people were small-minded people, I was being the bigot.  And here I thought I was so enlightened.

Tendrils Bath and Body, now in business!

I touted my new wares at two of three holiday bazaars that I attended this season.  Now, I am slowly getting things listed on the new Etsy site (www.etsy.com/tendrilsbodycare).  Initial sales were quite small, though I received a lot of interest and people really liked smelling and touching.  I can store the soaps, and some of the other products, over winter, and I'm hoping to find a spring garden-related market or festival to give it another shot.  Etsy will probably not help me sell a lot of product initially, as I think it will be the smell and feel that will win customers.  But, it will give those customers a way to re-order once they try it.  In the meantime, I'm packing up gift boxes for family, so at the very least, I have a stash of handmade gifts to offer this holiday season.

My studio has been in major transition for months as I reorganize to accommodate a new commission that takes up 30 square feet, to be installed in April.  Mike gave me a tabletop glass kiln for my birthday, which I am ready to test run today, so I am creating a new area for fusing, plus one wall dedicated to Tendrils supplies and tools.  I still haven't figured out how to make it all fit, and I am beginning to think I need to give up some mediums - and I don't want to.  In fact, I have MORE ideas and I want to go back to sewing and collage on top of everything.  There is just not enough room or time for the things I want to make.

Luckily, I find that Winter is my season for creating.  All becomes quiet, there is little gardening to be done, the ideas and motivation seem more tangible, and I spend these coming months in the studio during the day, then crocheting or sewing or other "crafty" things in the house amid my little family in the evenings.

That said, it's time to get off the computer and get to work.

Making balms

A variety of herbs still growing in our garden in October.

 I can't believe I'm still able to harvest a handful of lavender, yarrow, calendula, and lots of other herbs this late in the season.  These get separated into paper bags, or bundled and hung to dry.  When they are nice and crispy, I pack them into jars and fill the rest with olive or almond oils.  After about 3 weeks, I strain the oil for use in the products I've been making.  It is a very time-consuming process (Mike recently asked my why I can't seem to do anything that is actually cost-effective) but it is rewarding.  Every step is relaxing and aromatic, and it feels good to know I'm using organically grown plants right out of my own yard.

The down side is that the pantry is small, and there really isn't room for my new enterprise.  A table just inside our front entryway is piled high with containers of oils, beeswax, honey, essential oils, and tools.  I bring what I need to the kitchen for each project, then pile it all back on the table, with no organization at all.  The kitchen floor is spackled with cocoa butter and wax, which doesn't mop up.  I need to use a straight-edge to scrape it up, and it never seems clean.  I still haven't figured out how to clean the waxy residue off of the bowls, spatulas, sieves and mixers I use to make lotion and balm.

But, it's all worth it.  I spent the better part of yesterday making a balm from beeswax, shea butter, cocoa butter, honey, vitamin E, glycerine, olive oil, and essential oils that will make a nice gift for a friend's baby shower this weekend.  The wax makes it a barrier cream, to prevent baby rash, while all of the other ingredients are nourishing and soothing.  It would also work well for gardeners, crafters, and anyone needing extra protection and moisturizing for hands, feet, elbows, etc. (It would be great for mosaic artists and those working with cement.) I am very pleased with the outcome.  Here is a photo of the balm in the tins:

Today, I finally have a working printer, so I will be experimenting with creating a label.  I've been researching companies that print labels, but for a small line of products like this, nothing is really affordable.  So, at least for now, I have to figure out how to make them myself.  I really want my products to look homemade, but pretty and professional.  Presentation has never been my strong point.

Part of our squash/pumpkin crop.

We have pulled in almost all of our pumpkins, so there isn't much left to do in the garden.  Mike has been mulching on the weekends, and I plan to start putting chickens in the veggie garden to turn the soil.  I have a pile of tomatoes and zucchini to freeze, and the rest is finally done.  We butchered the turkeys last week and our freezer is packed full.  We traded one turkey to Barnyard Gardens for some chickens, plus they always do the butchering for us.  We have decided not to raise turkeys next year.  It is far too expensive, and quite a bit of extra work. 

Well, that's the homestead report for October.  The misty-rainy season is in full swing and the hard work is over.  It's a good time to make art, soap, balm, lotion, and today I'm making bath bombs, and nursing a month-long cold. 

Autumn Homestead Update

Fall tends to be one of the busier times here on the little farm.  I am usually scrambling to prepare for art exhibits, starting to create some smaller items for holiday sales, and dealing with the harvest, all while my husband and daughter are getting back to their school/work schedules and all of the extracurricular activities that come with it.

By now, our tomatoes are dwindling, and I've been removing the spent plants from the greenhouse, making room for a fall crop of greens.  We planted winter broccoli and cauliflower, plus salad greens.  We've never done a fall planting before, mainly because it has always been so much work just getting the harvest finished, let alone dealing with replanting.  I thought planting in the greenhouse would mean the veggies were protected from predators (all of the greens in the raised beds have now been munched away by deer) but I have been fighting a whole gang of caterpillars instead. 

The deer have been very audacious, coming into the fenced garden surrounding our house, eating our raspberries and grapes.  The other morning, I was wholly entertained watching Mike chasing a deer around out there in his underwear and t-shirt, barefoot, waving a plastic yellow softball bat.  These are the memories we will cherish forever.

We have a lot of grapes (though less each time the deer break in), and I have no idea what I'll do with them.  I'd love to make wine, but I'm not up to buying equipment and taking that on this year.  We could vitamix them, but what about seeds?

Our first hive was invaded by yellow jackets.  Within about a week, the yellow jackets drove out the honey bees and ate almost all of the honey.  The hive never did produce much honey, so I don't think it was healthy to begin with, but we were very upset by the loss.  We are just hoping the other two hives are safe - they look ok.  I've been trying to salvage beeswax from the dead hive, but it's full of brood, and a bit papery.

Now and then, I find time to make lotions.  I infused almond oil with lavender for my most recent recipe.  I didn't use any essential oils, so the lotion is subtle and simple.  I'll give you a little rundown:

First, I melted beeswax and the lavender-infused almond oil, while letting some borax powder dissolve in water:

Then I mixed them together while both were hot.  I put the mixture in a blender I use only for lotions.

Once it was nicely whipped, I poured the mixture into jars and let it cool:

The hardest part about making lotion is planning ahead.  The infusion takes a few weeks, and then it's just a matter of having the materials on hand and the right tools.  The rest is very simple.  It has a nice, mild lavender smell, and the beeswax/almond oil texture feels luxurious on my hands.

My printer has broken down, so I need to get a new one.  Then I can print some labels and get my new products ready for the holidays.  Even if I can't sell them, they will make great gifts.  I helped
Anouk and her friend make melt & pour glycerine soap the other day.  We added our honey and some sage oil.  I used one to wash my face this morning, and it is the best facial soap I've ever used.  Anouk is going to make her own products and call them "Little Tendrils."