Harpo's Girlfriend

Day 42: Harpo's Girlfriend

Harpo's girlfriend is nasty. I've washed it several times, but it still smells of our old dog Chester and who knows what else. Every time I sit on the sofa near the dog crate, I can smell it. Sorry, Goodwill. I know you would have sold it to a ragpicker to make into household insulation, but I can't bring myself to make your volunteers go through the experience of handling Harpo's girlfriend. It's going straight to the trash.

I'll make a new cushion cover for him out of old towels. I hope he doesn't pine for too long, but I believe it's healthier to end this obsession.

History Books

Day 41: History Books

Today is Tina's birthday. Mine will follow shortly. I don't want to give away her (our) age, but it ends in zero, is greater than 40 and less than 60.

I've been trying to think of something I can get rid of in Tina's honor. She's taught me a few lessons:

1. Clothes that are too big make you look fat
2. Cheap make-up looks cheap
3. Spend more to get what you really want, because you'll keep it longer

I either like reading history books because I have an MPA,
or I have an MPA because I like reading history books.
Upon reflection, I'm keeping Lincoln

I've learned these lessons so well that I don't have any too-big clothes or cheap make-up. I'm working on the unwanted crap.

I thought of giving away all my public administration textbooks. We went to graduate school together in public administration and policy, and worked together as budget and policy analysts for many years. I doubt either of us will ever be a policy analyst again. Unfortunately, it turns out I already let go of all my old textbooks.

I also thought of buying myself a Ford Fusion hybrid, but that is probably taking lesson three too far. Would it count as getting rid of something if I got rid of my trashed RAV4? Would it be an homage to Tina?

Happy birthday, Tina. Here's to the next 25 years.

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.

Quarter-Sized Stand-Up Bass

Day 39: Quarter-Sized Stand-Up Bass

Some things feel very good to get rid of, and some things feel very bad. It was a bad day when Cluck Ole Hen, my little string band, lost its fiddle player, Jess. Jess and her husband Nil and their two little sons were our most favorite next-door-neighbors ever. When we lost our fiddleplayer, we also lost our fellow chickenkeepers, our tiny basketball players, many lazy over-the-fence conversations, and the feeling of community that only a good neighbor can give. Their excellent jobs, their great new house, their proximity to family and their love of Quebec are all well and good, but we're talking about me here.

Things got even worse when Cluck Ole Hen lost its bass player, Connie. Jess told me Connie was the coolest person she ever met, and that might just be true. Connie doesn't talk much about herself, so it takes a while to figure out that she can actually do anything, like teach karate, ride motorcycles, prune fruit trees, build a chair and identify every Michigan native plant and almost every ornamental. She's a natural musician. And she has a really big heart. So now Connie is living the dream on the west coast, being a small-scale farmer with her boyfriend Stu. Stu and Connie probably watch the sunset while skinny dipping in Lake Michigan. Sigh.

Well, things change and sometimes you say goodbye to good things and good people. It's coming up on a year since Jess left. I might almost be ready to give her a call and not boohoo through the whole conversation. Maybe we'll try camping on Stu and Connie's land this summer.

When you say goodbye, sometimes you make room for something or somebody new. So today, Suzanne is buying Sam's old quarter-sized stand-up bass, now too small for him. We can never replace Connie, but Suzanne is a pleasure. She knows how to keep her place and how to keep time. Better yet, she ends every song with a huge grin and victory whoop. What's not to like?

Next week, we're trying out a new fiddleplayer. She's not Jess. But someday, she might be a friend.

There is disagreement as to whether we are Cluck Ole Hen
or Cluck Old Hens. Julie prefers Cluck Old Hens because it's more accuate.
I prefer Cluck Ole Hen because it's cooler.

Computer, Printer & Other Electronics

Day 38: Computer, Printer, VHS Tapes, ADATs and More

Fight!

I left the house for less than an hour, and when I came back, I found this:

Rich was moving old electronics out of the studio in a wheelbarrow! His plan was to take it directly to the drop-off center ... without even telling me! 

How will I ever get through an entire year of giving something away every day if my own family sneaks stuff to the dump when I'm not looking?

And all this only a few days before the Ann Arbor Public Schools and the University of Michigan team  up for their e-recycling event. eWaste has those all-too-familiar stats associated with it: Americans are the biggest waste generators, annually we discard an average of 65 pounds of it per person, almost 10 million tons of it end up in U.S. landfills per year, blah blah blah.

Okay, okay, hurt me daddy I'm bad.

On the plus side, if you recycle, a lot of the raw materials can be reused. If you can resist the temptation of the latest shiny object, computers and other electronics have a much longer lifespan than they once had.

The e-recycling event reminded me a bit of a rock concert, what with the orange traffic cones, young men in reflector vests and baseball caps, long lines of cars and semis in the parking lot. They took everything.

More Bedsheets

Day 37: More Bedsheets

Enough said.

I bought cute new sheets for our third floor guest room after my beloved
mother-in-law had to sleep in a bed with a bottom sheet that had little
cars on it, a top sheet with ladybugs, and two mismatched pillowcases.
I bought a cute green polkadot sheet set and a yellow feather comforter for Jane,
put the old sheets in this pine trunk, and forgot all about them. Three years ago.

Shoes

Day 36: Shoes

I "needed" a pair of black slip-ons.
I wanted some Birky rip-offs.
Cork = good (reusable)
Chinese leather = bad (unregulated effluvia)
Synthetic rubber = mixed reviews

I don't do drugs. I don't gamble. I don't drink (much). But I found myself sneaking the two new pairs of shoes from DSW into the house when no one was looking. I hid them in plain view, on the shoe rack. I made a futile attempt to exculpate myself by putting six other pairs of shoes into the growing Goodwill pile.

The effort was futile because, just like everything else I'm learning about during this stuff project, it turns out shoes have a big environmental, economic and social cost. My new shoes were made in China. Most likely, so were yours. 84% of our shoes are. As usual, we are the gluttons at the table: Americans buy an average of almost seven pairs of shoes a year compared with a world-wide average of about two and a half. Worst of all, some shoe factories still use child labor.

Sigh. 

I just can't stop buying shoes. Not an option. No way.

On the plus side, these trashed, ill-fitting,
outgrown shoes will have a useful afterlife.

Furthermore, I'm not going to limit myself to those few companies - Timberland, Simple, Keen and (surprisingly!) Nike, for example - that are working to minimize their impact. But there are some things I can do. First, instead of mucking the chickens, pulling weeds or shooting hoops in whatever shoes I happen to have on, I'm keeping a pair of rain boots by the back door. (I even bought them used!) That ought to prolong the life of the shoes I already have.

Second, I'm firm in my resolve not to buy any shoes that do not fit perfectly, no matter how cute, or how cheap the clearance price. At least two of the shoes in the Goodwill bag were cheap, cheap, cheap - but not quite right. I should have skipped it.

Third, I'm going to check out the used shoes on eBay. 

After all, you can never have too many shoes.