Spongebob Squarepants Toothbrush Holder and Cup

Day 317: Spongebob Squarepants Toothbrush Holder and Cup

Jackpot! The vanity in our upstairs bathroom needs to be replaced, which means everything in it has to go. This will take care of at least a week of the stuff project.

Dusty in one of the drawers, this Spongebob Squarepants toothbrush holder and cup. No, it is not a vestige of early childhood. Sam received it, new in box, at his forum's white elephant exchange his freshman year at Community. The white elephant exchange to which I forced him to take a funny old thing from our house - a neon blue liquid-filled squishy rubber ball with soft droopy spikes and eyes that bulged when you squeezed it, like a cross between a water balloon and a soft porcupine - instead of a new thing as he had requested. By definition, I told him, a white elephant exchange is an exchange of funny old things.

Silly me. At a teenager white elephant exchange, embarrassment must be avoided at all costs. He was the only kid to bring a used thing, an embarrassment that he will be still talking about in psychotherapy in the year 2050.

A white elephant exchange - in theory so eco-friendly, so hilarious and so low-cost as to be a completely egalitarian team-builder - is a non-starter for high school kids. Conformity or death! This is why the franchise Plato's Closet, which buys and resells gently used teen clothing, is a great idea, while Style Encore, which does the same but for women, is a bust. Adolescent girls all wear the same size and like the same style. Grown women wear a wide variety of sizes and an even wider variety of styles. One is great business, the other a recipe for bankruptcy. You can see this exquisitely painful conventionality from the audience of every high school performance, which feature 97 girls with long straight hair, two rebel girls with short haircuts, and at least three girls above 5'8" with hunched shoulders.

Individual style is an ironic artifact of mass production. One hundred fifty years ago, no one had individual style. Everyone had homemade. Were adolescents peer-identified and conformist back then? Who knows? I suppose they were mostly married with children and chapped hands, a little underweight and with only a dress or two in the closet.

Well, times have changed. It's probably a good thing to get rid of this ever-smiling reminder of Sam's humiliation.

Microscope and Slides

Day 226: Microscope and Slides
When Sam and Emma were young, I wanted to open all the world to them, all the possibilities and opportunities. Thus, when my father gave us this microscope and slides, I imagined, because they loved the outdoors, that this might spur them to a passion - even a profession - in science.

But to a non-scientist like myself, the view through the microscope is more akin to abstract art than a window to the world. Sure, the slides are pretty. The little glass rectangles are labeled: tree sap, sugar, or soil. They don't resemble their regular selves, seen through the microscope. It's interesting that sap looks that way through a microscope, bumpy and dotty and ropy (or whatever). The colors even look different. About as interesting - and for about as long - as the abstract art gallery at the Detroit Institute of Art. Luckily, at the DIA, they have sharp pencils and pads of paper for when the kids get tired of looking.

In my mind, looking at slides through a microscope is hands-on. But if you're an Arts & Ideas major, all you can really do it look. You can't understand.

No thanks to me, both my kids have exceeded me as scientists. Emma Jane was the only freshman BFA student to take physics, and she's getting an A. (Lord knows why, but she loves physics.) Sam is going strong in his high school's innovative science program, where all the disciplines are taught seamlessly together every year.

Recently, I sent my friend Lisa an email asking whether my hens have two X-chromosomes. Her answer? "Nope. A Z chromosome and a W chromosome. In birds, the ovum determines the sex." This means nothing to me, even after I went to the Wikipedia link she attached to her answer. Nevertheless, I love that she knew the answer. I'm happy this microscope and accompanying slides will get a second life at the Summers Knoll School, where Lisa volunteers. I hope that she'll use her deep knowledge to help the kids understand what they're seeing. And help them love science.

Mattress Pad

Day 169: Mattress Pad

This mattress pad is on a par with Harpo's girlfriend: so nasty I can't tolerate the embarrassment of sending it off to the ragpickers. It went straight to the trash, and then onward to the landfill. 

I have a question: are landfills really so bad? I understand that in this country, they begin with an impermeable layer that prevents pollutants from entering the ecosystem. This is a stark contrast to Belize, which we visited a year and a half ago. The landfill - say, dump - was between the little house we rented and the town on Caye Caulker. People were dumping trash everywhere in the vicinity, and when it rained, puddles would fill with bits of refuse. Every couple days, there would be a terrible stench of burning rubber as the garbage was incinerated. 

Meanwhile, we denizens of the good old USA are increasing our recycling and composting efforts here in our local communities. But many recycling processes result in as much environmental harm as production from raw materials would. And high quality processed compost is piling up in the compost center, because a lot of people would rather buy plastic bags of wood chips and topsoil than shovel compost at the reuse center. 

We order Calder Dairy milk delivered to our door every two weeks, five half gallon glass bottles that the Dairy collects, washes and reuses. We've been doing this for five years, which means we've kept 500 plastic or waxed milk jugs entirely out of the waste stream. If I had a cow, I wouldn't even incur the fuel costs of milk delivery. I could just drink right from the teat. 

Well, that's not going to happen, of course. But while Belizeans may not do as well with waste disposal as we do, they produce significantly less waste per person. And using less - not disposing of things better - is really the key to environmental stewardship. 

Yeah. Milk right from the teat. No recycling necessary. 

How to Be Good

Day 143: How to Be Good and Other Books

Stuff is like the Purloined Letter. The thing you're looking for is in plain sight, hidden amongst an abundance of similar but useless items.

It's as true for books as it is for cloth napkins, socks, tupperware and jewelery. Here is the short stack of seven books I'm getting rid of today, mostly good reads, except The Daughter of Persia and An Atlas of the Difficult World, which were a little chewier:

Now, here's the stack of books we obtained one way or another because they looked good, which I didn't get to right away, and which gradually got subsumed into the overwhelming weight of other books on the shelf:

I'm especially excited about the Ann Packer book, and the book about water politics in Florida, and, of course, Lives of the Monster Dogs. Who wouldn't be excited about Lives of the Monster Dogs?

I'm hoping this stack of books will keep me company next week, after I drop off Emma Jane at Ball State.

6,458 days down, four to go.

She does say she's moving back home next summer. Unless she gets a job at Disneyland.

Little Bo Peep's Cane

Day 105: Little Bo Peep's Cane
Can I be an old codger, now that I'm fifty? When I was a kid, our approach to Halloween costumes was completely different. I remember putting significant thought and creativity into the stuff we had at home, and how it could be transformed into a costume. A couple of costumes I particularly remember: a snowman out of a white terrycloth robe with pillows tied around my body, lumps of charcoal for buttons and an actual carrot tied around my nose. A cereal box out of a giant cardboard box, carefully papier mache'ed and painted to replicate Rice Krispies exactly, except larger and with holes for my head, legs and arms. My friend Shelly Tuer went as Frosted Flakes.

Little Bo Peep probably actually
had a shepherd's crook. I hate to
imagine Emma, a shepherd's crook
and Joe and Sam all together in the
same room at that age.

When the kids were really little, my mom made awesome themed costumes each year for all the grandkids. One year, it was Little Bo Peep. There are advantages to being the oldest grandchild: Emma was Little Bo Peep, Joe and Sam were sheep. Then there was the Wizard of Oz. Emma was Dorothy. Little Red Riding Hood - guess who Emma was? The only vestige of the costumes I have is Little Bo Peep's cane.

My own children focus on buying the right thing rather than making the right thing. I tried to resist. I tried to get their creative juices flowing. I tried to suggest fabrics and objects that might turn into something exciting and original. One year, it worked. Emma and I crafted a giant Pepsi can using a two-foot diameter metal ring that used to hold our dog food pail shut, plus a lot of blue, red and white felt and Elmer's glue. She even won an award.

But in general, most of their Halloween costuming has involved Fantasy Attic or eBay. And in truth, everybody else's costumes are store bought. Forcing them to wear handmade costumes is like sending children of the 1950's to school with homemade bread: embarrassing.

I can only hope that after fifty more years, homemade costumes will be cool again. Just like home baking.

Binders and Accordion Files

Day 85: Binders and Accordion Files

I've packed these up and put them
in the file room at work.

Last exam day for Sam. Emma graduated Sunday. Why do we need these empty accordion files and the half-dozen binders in a box?

One positive outcome of the stuff project: it's helped me match needs I have with stuff I already own, so I avoid buying stuff I don't need. I store my tax returns and documentation in a small file box that's completely full. I need more storage for future returns, and was intending to buy another file box. Instead, I'm putting the sturdiest of these accordion files to use.

Similarly, I'm using that moldy shower curtain as fabric to recover damaged patio chair cushions. The fabric is water resistant and much of it is still good. Only the scraps will go to the rag-pickers.

Does that count as getting rid of something? Getting rid of a problem? Reusing?

Clothing

Day 60: Clothing
I found another shocking statistic: that Americans purchased an average of 60 pieces of clothing per year in 2013, compared with 30 pieces in 1993, because of the proliferation of cheap textiles. For kids, that makes a lot of sense. When they're babies, they need a whole new wardrobe every three months. Elementary age, it's every six months. In high school, every year.

The irony is that this was Lisa's. I could have just taken directly from her
and then taken my grocery bags of clothing directly to Kiwanis. 

For adults, what the -- ?!

A2UP's first annual clothing swap, which I attended today with my daughter and my friend Lisa, was intended to give that new outfit rush, without the social and environmental costs. The mimosas and baked goods were awesome, but even better: this blaser and silk scarf, nice enough to wear to a meeting in the Provost's Office. I left behind more than I brought, and I got to meet the learn about upcycling and the Ann Arbor Upcycle Project, a lovely new business dedicated to fun, sustainable art and crafting.

Glass

Day 56: Glass Tabletop

Check out the chip in the lower
corner. This will be cut down
for use on a smaller patio table at
the botanical gardens

This glass tabletop has been in the basement for six years, ever since we added a leaf to our cherry wood table to make room for homework and dinner guests. Somehow the glass got chipped, which means we wouldn't be able to use it again anyway. Hopefully we will never reacquire any sticky-fingered, food-spilling toddlers from whom a nice cherry table needs protection.

Glass seems like a good follow-up to yesterday's depressing post about plastics. Glass is awesome for recycling! 90% of recycled glass gets made into brand new containers, and using crushed glass to make new glass reduces the environmental costs of production. Woo hoo! We just need to be better about putting glass in the recycling instead of throwing it away.

Cows have been known to eat glass debris. Gives new meaning to a glass of milk.

Sawdust

Day 40: Sawdust

Sawdust for chicken bedding makes me cough.
Probably not good for the chickens either

I can't get ahead of the economics of chickens. We buy about two bags of feed ($15 ea), two bags of bedding ($10 ea) and about $10 on miscellaneous other stuff like oyster shells or scratch every year. That's about sixty bucks a year. We spent $200 building the coop, $100 buying two water dispensers and a feed dispenser, $30 on a water melter, $15 on an extension cord long enough to in plug the melter, and $15 on a permit. So that's $360 in start-up costs for about six years of laying, an average of another sixty a year. Two chickens give us about 400 eggs a year. So that's $120 in annualized costs for $3.60 a dozen.

My co-worker Judy sells her Happy Hens eggs for $3.50 per dozen. So for just a dime a dozen, I get all the fun of cleaning the coop, tromping outside all weathers in my bathrobe and boots to open and close the coop, driving fifteen miles to the Tractor Supply store for chicken feed, and finding someone to take care of the birds when we go on vacation.

I am motivated to minimize my chicken care costs, and neither of us remembers why we have this big bag of unopened sawdust. Might we have gotten it from Fingerle's years ago, thinking it could be used in lieu of salt on ice? Nothing else comes to mind.

Backyard chicken web sites unanimously agree that sawdust is no good for chicks, but most seemed to think that as a supplement to regular bedding, sawdust is okay for layers. It's absorbent and it smells good, but in large doses it's too dusty for chickens and humans. It can cause respiratory problems. I went ahead and mixed it in with the cedar shavings. I was interested to read that construction grade sand makes warmer, cleaner, cheaper reusable bedding. Next time I'll try it.

Re the wisdom of using sawdust as bedding: I'm still coughing.

Dressy Dresses

Day 14: Dressy Dresses, Bathrobes, Shirts and Other Miscellaneous Clothing

I agreed to split the cost of a dress for the 100 Day Dinner with Emma, if she would agree to give away two dresses from her collection. The 100 Day Dinner is a pre-graduation celebration, which presumably at some point took place 100 days before graduation but, this year, takes place later.

What was I thinking?

Emma and I have been arguing about buying dresses since she was in middle school. My philosophy is that you can sidestep the moral complexities of the U.S. clothing industry by limiting yourself to thrift shop purchases. I hate the idea that what I'm wearing was made by a slave or a child. I hate the terrible toll textile manufacturing takes on the environment. I hate that textiles comprise 5% of our waste stream. By buying used clothing, I can get stuff cheap - designer stuff! cashmere! - while giving money to organizations, like the Thrift Shop, that help my community. And I'm not contributing to any societal bads.

It's really cute, but
it's unravelling

Plus, I never know if I'm actually going to like something once I get it home. If I get it from the Thrift Shop, it doesn't matter. Like, what was I thinking when I bought these ridiculous chartreuse velour pants a couple weeks ago? They're too short. They're too big. They're chartreuse. No problem! Back to the Thrift Shop! They only cost $2 and the $2 went to a good cause. I've put more in the Salvation Army bucket at Christmastime.

My philosophy works very well for a woman whose idea of styling her hair involves sleeping on it wet because the tangles create more body. 

I'm giving these away too,
because Emma's giving something
away doesn't really count

Emma, on the other hand, loves to dress up. She has three-inch heels in purple, red, beige patent leather and black. She has a train case full of nail polish. She knows how to blow dry her hair, apply eyeliner and depilate. She doesn't like to wear the same dress twice. Which is why giving away two dresses - one from the Activate the Cure competition and one sexy black lace number from tenth grade prom (thank God it's going!) - is no problem.

Before I had children, I thought they would rebel by voting republican or cooking meth. Silly me! In reality, kids find much deeper ways to differentiate themselves from their parents. Which is why I spent yet another evening standing outside the dressing room at Marshall's, dead on my feet and poised to state my preference for the green vs. the black vs. the blue lace dress. 

At least I know it won't be the last time. Graduation countdown: 66 days.

Bridesmaid's Gowns

Day 9: Bridesmaid's Gowns

Lisa heading out in the rain
to collect her long-lost gowns

The only time I've ever worn a bridesmaid's gown was ten years ago, for a costume party given by my husband's boss for her 45th birthday. I borrowed two from a co-worker and chose the one I liked the best, a low-cut silk number with ruffles and a black taffeta rose. Rich wore a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, a ruffled shirt and long sideburns.

There was a picture of us somewhere, but now it's gone.

Lisa had asked me to return the gowns, but I never did. After the party, I took them to the office and hung them on the back of the door. They hung there for several months, winking at me during business meetings. Lisa and I were never able to connect. I got another job, packed up the office and took them home.

By then, I felt they needed to be pressed and cleaned. The dry cleaner would not take them because of the sequins and ruffles. They lay crushed in a tiny basket in my closet, a trip hazard and a reproach.

A few days ago, I took the gowns out, hung them inside-out on a hanger, and spritzed them with water. They don't smell bed. They don't have stains. They were just wrinkly. And now they're not.

Here's what Lisa had to say about it:

 On Wed, Mar 26, 2014 at 2:39 PM, Lisa wrote:

That is so funny that you emailed me. I was cleaning out my closet the other day and trying to find things for our fun fashion show/fundraiser at our church. I pulled out a couple of my dresses and said, oh too bad I didn’t get those dresses from Karen – those would be fun to have someone wear down the runway!!!

I was laughing (and crying) when I was digging out my other dresses! They are so tiny.  Oh, to be young and tiny again.

All that worrying for nothing.

Piano Books

Day Seven: Elementary Piano Books

I went to last night's choir concert believing it was Emma's last. I imagined writing sentimental statements about how much I was going to miss hearing her figure out songs in the evenings with her guitar, and how proud I always am to pick out her voice among the chorus. Individual voices are meant to blend in, but mother penguins can recognize a single chicks' cry among thousands.

It was one of those concerts where the middle school choir, the upper school orchestra and the upper school choir all perform. There were no programs left by the time we arrived, five minutes late. This meant that my usual entertainment - counting the number of songs to be performed and calculating the percent completed, percent remaining, and estimated finishing time - was not an option. The kicker: there was no drawn-out gifting of cd's to each senior with ex temporaneous comments on their personalities by the choir director. Which means that this was not the last choir concert. There's still one more out there, lurking.

But. That's no reason not to get rid of the dozen or so elementary piano books I found on the music shelf, books which, along with lessons, cost hundreds of dollars and caused hundreds of hours of nagging. I advertised them on amazon.com, but no one wanted to buy them.

Emma's former piano teacher promised to find them good homes.

Tricycle Magazine

Day 6: Tricycle Magazine

There is exquisite irony in hanging onto old Buddhist magazines. I hope someone at the library magazine exchange finds value in them.