Cup of Happiness

Our coffee machine broke down a few months ago. Coincidentally, my Starbucks habit kicked back in right around the same time. I am loathe to admit it, but I am addicted to caffeine. Like, for reals. I tried to give it up for Lent this year and made it exactly 4 days before my headaches and general Rage Against Humanity weakened my resolve and I went back to the dark side.

I immediately felt that I had a Green Living problem to tackle. What's the best way to get my fix with minimal waste and maximum awesomeness?

Factors to consider:

• I don't want ANY waste - No filters, no pods, no pouring half your French Press pot down the drain because I can only really handle one cup at a time and the mechanics of the Press make me create at least 2 big cups worth.
• When it comes right down to it, I really want a LATTE. Not coffee. Yes, I know, I'm a snob. Whatever. When I have good, excellent-tasting espresso and steamed milk, I don't even want any sugar OR honey. At least half of the reason I go to The Bucks is because I want the steamed milk. Lovely, frothy milk.

So I didn't want to buy a new coffee maker. Coffee makers don't make lattes, and latte makers cost $$$. I did a bit of internet searching, and decided on these two little old-fangled lovelies:

To my left, a stainless steel milk frother. To my right, the iconic Bialetti Moka Pot in the one-cup size. Just enough for ONE latte in the morning! 

Yes, they are not as fast or as fancy as the Pod coffee machines or the spendy espresso machines. And yes, the Bialetti would be a more energy-efficient choice if we had gas burners, but someday I WILL have gas burners, so help me!

How do these thrifty little metal contraptions produce a foamy latte? Observe.

This round fan-looking thing is what aerates the milk. It's attached by a metal rod to the knob on the lid of the frother When you pump it, it turns this little splash of warmed-up soy milk (see left) into this voluminous cup of foamy soy milk (see right). About as close to steamed milk as you can get without a fancy espresso maker OR a lot of attention and patience at the stove top.

And what about the espresso part?

Espresso goes into this funnel-shaped filter.

Which fits into the bottom part....

that holds the water.

When you twist the two halves of the Moka pot together and put the pot on the stove, you can lift up the lid and watch the espresso percolate up into the little pitcher.

Bubbling goodness.

Now imagine this is a TV cooking show and I skip to the finished product:

Perfecto. One latte, no waste. I can use organic, fair trade beans and whatever pretentious milk I want. And if I ever get my act together, I could even put everything together at night and just turn on the heat in the morning.

So there you have it! The solution to my latte addiction for about $40 of durable equipment. No waste, and far fewer trips to The Bucks. Come on over and I'll play barista for ya.

When A Good Deal isn't a Great Buy - Choosing Stuff That Will Last

It's Boot Season again - Hooray! That means I get to bust out my mom's circa 1975 Frye Boots. Believe it or not, boots are hard to photograph in an interesting way. But these boots ROCK. And I get complements on them every time I wear them. They are creeping up on 40 years old, and they still look awesome. Mom actually had TWO pairs of Frye boots in her closet, which seemed Way Way Over the Top for my mom. My Mom didn't spend lots (any) cash on herself by the time she was my mom. So knowing what I know about how much Frye boots cost now, I'm sure these were a save-up purchase. And judging by the re-soled wear, she wore them a lot. And here they are, on my feet, rocking my jeggings and Dress Over Pants concoction in 2012. So an excellent cost-per-wear investment. Plus, I get to wear my mom's boots. The best hand-me-down ever.


Most of my clothes are cheap. Seriously cheap. Not just "Bought on J Crew clearance", although there are some of those. Cheap like "bought from Target/Old Navy/TJ Maxx and barely make it through one or two seasons before I start eyeing them with scissors to repurpose their raggy fabric". I own maybe 3 or 4 items that I could consider "investment" purchases. Clothes that I love and wear regularly, cost a bit more, and are holding up really well. Most of my stuff, however, has little to commend it into the "Excellent Stewardship of Resources!" category. Most are items that I just thought were cute and within my budget and ended up in the cart.

I'm starting to see improvements in this area. Maybe it's getting older. It's much easier to stick my fingers in my ears and sing LALALALALALAAAA over the siren song of trendy clothes. I also have a job where jeans and a t-shirt are just about requisite 3 out of 5 days a week.

Obviously we all need clothes to wear, and I'm not advocating for sackcloth and ashes. I also do not think that it is an ethical affront to look cute. I could actually use some more lovely in my life. I am usually loathe to spend big money on clothes, but I'm beginning to realize that disposable trends aren't as much fun as they used to be. The standard fashion mag refrain is to buy "the essential 10" (or 15, or 20) items in classic, flattering cuts and then care for them meticulously so they last for years. I'm down with that, but how do I start? Buy one piece per year for the next ten years? That's not a terrible idea, actually. As least I can be classically fashionable by the time I'm 45.

So what do I do with all the other stuff? And how many items of clothes do I really need? "Purge the Closet and Dresser" has been on my To-Do list for several weeks now. I was dreading it at first, but then I read this post  from Jamie The Very Worst Missionary and I got some mojo going for PURGE THE JUNK! I'm interested to see what is left after I donate anything that doesn't fit, doesn't flatter, or is just plain ready to be demoted to "fabric".

Ok, really this whole post has been my round-about way of trying to process whether or not I should consider doing something I swore several years ago that I would NEVER do: Should I FINALLY buy a classic, well-made leather  bag that I will just use and use and use and use rather then the "please please make it one more season" pleather or canvas bags that I keep burning through like birthday candles? I love me some purses. I used to have a lot more energy for wearing them like accessories, but the reality is that I pretty much use the same bag every day. Until it crumbles and shreds into sad little vinyl chunks. I'm researching recycled leather bag companies, which I feel sort of OK about, but I just cannot bring myself to purchase new, fresh-off-the-cow leather. Even though those Frye boots are a testament to the longevity of a well-made and virtually timeless slab of hide.

I have leather shoes, even other leather boots. And I do own a couple of small leather purses that have been gifted to me over the years. But now I struggle to put my cash into leather, or to wear it as if to say "Yeah! I'm totally cool with this!".

So if you have a vintage leather bag that you never use, or a suggestion for a great place to get some repurposed leather goods, or can help me with this clash of values (animal-free vs. durability and fewer disposable faux-leather accessories), shoot me a note. I'm gonna head over to Etsy and Ebay and see what I can find.

More with Less Part 2: Why it Matters What We Eat

Lovely, uneaten beans in our kitchen. 

It's August 20th, and I had a left over lemon poppy-seed scone for breakfast. And plenty of random processed stuff all weekend. And our fridge is still full, and our good intentions have not yet leaped onto our plates of their own volition. It's the truth. It is hard to eat well and thoughtfully. It is much easier to go with the path of least resistance (and least cooking, and least menu-planning, and least dish-doing). I'm still convinced it is worth the effort, but I have to get over this hump somehow.

I was sitting awkwardly at the little picnic-table area of Costco on Saturday, guiltily wolfing down my slice of Desperation Pizza and wondering exactly what it would take to turn things around. When presented with a quick, cheap slab of gooey cheese and pillowy dough and I haven't eaten lunch and it's 2pm, I lunged for it. Even though I knew I would be muttering profanities under my breath in a few hours because of the wheat. I wanted something to eat, and I hadn't set myself up to make a good choice. So I went back to the easiest and fastest path to shut off the rumbling in my stomach.

And besides, it doesn't really matter what I eat, right? I mean, those hungry people in North Korea or sub-Saharan Africa or downtown Raleigh or rural Mississippi are not going to go to sleep with full bellies just because I refuse to buy BigBox Store pizza or out-of-season tomatoes or anything that was shipped from Chile, right? Even if I change my diet and a few others follow suit, we're not going to change the food industry or re-direct any of my uneaten bagels to Bangladesh. So, do my food choices really matter to anyone but me?

Here's where I would love to reprint the whole 4-page chapter from the More-with-Less Cookbook called "Change - An Act of Faith". I have re-read it a couple of times this week to help me keep my eyes on the bigger picture, which, as the book points out, is essentially this:

In our complex world, it is hard to visualize how the struggles of a few families to save food will help. Channels to the needy are long and circuitous. Yet deconsumption is an obvious first step. The very complexity that frustrates easy answers also means that our decisions in the global family are interrelated. "Life is a huge spider web so that if you touch it anywhere you set the whole things trembling" says Frederick Buccher in The Hungering Dark.

 ...How can we continue overeating in the face of starvation, and be at peace with ourselves and our neighbors?... If we expect North American food conservation to totally solve world hunger, with good reason we sound naive and even paternalistic. Concerned Christians will move on to initiate food production and distribution programs. They will challenge oppressive government policy. But these broad areas are being dealt with in other settings. The scope of this book is necessarily limited to what some older preachers call "putting our own house in order". 

So that's where I'll commit to start. Putting our own house in order. My parents worked hard at this when we were kids. They were committed to some counter-cultural convictions, and it caused endless misery in my school-age years. WHY can't we have this toy or those jeans? WHY do we do these lame Family Devotions every Sunday? What if my friends find out that I'm reading Bible stories with my family, and that's why I've never seen The Simpsons?  They were putting their own house in order. They were looking at the Bible and at Jesus' teachings, and saying, as did the little cross-stitch next to the front door, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." For me and Les, we've been convicted that part of that means getting a handle on our consumption.

The More-With-Less Cookbook cites Jesus' miracle of feeding the 5,000 as a model for how WE are to respond in the face of seemingly impossible instruction and an overwhelming number of hungry people. We look at the huge need, then at our limited resources, and then back up at Jesus. He says "Share what you've got! There will be enough." and then we have to be obedient, even though that idea sounds nutty. Even if our faith is wobbly and our desire to trust and be obedient causes us to shrug and walk sheepishly into the crowd with one little loaf. We act in obedience, and God takes care of the rest.

Handily enough, the sermon we heard in church yesterday was ALSO about this miracle and the same point about obedience in the face of the overwhelming needs of the world. Here are the 3 tidy points of his three point sermon:

1. Jesus models a new perspective - We see overwhelming needs and feel powerless and frustrated. Jesus sees the crowd and is filled with compassion. 
2. Jesus gives us a new role - We're called to serve! Creatively, compassionately. Servanthood, he reminded us, is not limited by convenience, and we're not intended to take this all on our individual shoulders - we all share responsibility for everyone.
3. Jesus gives us a new set of rules - Nothing is impossible with Him. 

The disciples looked around at all those hungry people, and what did Jesus do? He didn't zap the loaves and fish and watch them mount into huge mountains of food. No, he looked at the disciples and said "You give them something to eat." They had some, and everyone around them had none. Sure, it looked like there was no way it would be enough. But it was! Plenty. Miraculously. And, as the story of the 5,000 reminds us so terrifically when it makes a point to mention that there were 12 baskets of food left over at the end (one for each disciple), when we work alongside God to fill the needs of others, HE PROVIDES FOR OUR NEEDS AS WELL.

So, bottom line. Will changing your food habits solve the world's food crisis? Will the world be a better place because you or I cut back? Will a scrappy band of Jesus-following vegetarian Robin Hoods start redistributing food all over the US and stand on a hill in the sunset and yell "As God as my witness, THEY will never go hungry again!"?

Maybe not. But maybe. And I'll just end with this. Like so many other ways that followers of Jesus are called to live lives that are not conformed to the patterns of this world, maybe our food choices are part of that set-apartness. Maybe they should be, if they are not. Maybe you or I or someone we know will feel God calling them to advocacy, or food redistribution, or to go down to the park where all the homeless gather and just share a big pot of chili with them and get to know their names. Maybe it's just time to get our own house in order, and keep looking up to God when we come face to face with the hungry and the sick and ask "Ok God, what are You and I gonna do about this? What do you want me to do here?". We have to start somewhere. Because I have already committed to Follow Jesus. And guess who he hung out with? Guess what his kitchen and pantry were stocked with? (Trick question!).

So I'll keep re-committing to getting my own house in order, and keep plodding along as I biff. I'll try to Give Thanks, to share, to be grateful. To celebrate joyfully, to live more within the bounds of "enough" and "plenty" instead of constant feast mode. And maybe, as the Mennonites who brought us the More-with-Less cookbook did, the money we trim from our food budget by eating simply can go directly to the folks who are hungry rather than right back into our pool of cash for other stuff we don't really need. It is not easy. It's a road less traveled. But we're on it now. One foot in front of the other, slowly first, then skipping. Then dancing.

From not buying to not eating stuff we don't need. Mostly.

No-Buy July was a semi-fail.

I admit it. We still bought plenty of things we didn't need. We did decide NOT to buy a lot of things too. But even during a month we were supposed to be shutting down every lurch towards Chipotle, Target impulse buys, desserts, and Random Big Purchases (see below), we still bought stuff. If I didn't know better, I would say we "accidentally" bought stuff. Mindfulness is a discipline, and we're pretty flabby.

Just imagine what No-Buy July could be like if we were really committed, thoughtful, and fully engaged with our interactions between our wallets and the world! We're going to keep at it. Never going to get there if we only really try once a year.

I'll also confess that on Aug. 1 I went to Target. I went to Target, and I bought the "Best of Shark Week 25th Anniversary Special Edition" DVD, and a latte. And 4 random officey things from the dollar bins. Accountability, people! I need some! Technically the month was over, but obviously my impulse control could use a lot of work.

Speaking of impulse control, something about even TRYING to NOT buy things made us both extra twitchy to buy things. Sort of like the "Don't think about white bears!" psychology experiment from back in the day. Anyway, one night a couple of weeks ago, we had a conversation that went something like this:

Les: "Hey, don't we have some gift cards left over from our wedding?"
Me: "Yes. I've got the keys. Meet you at the car."

So we went to the Big Mall in Durham so we could skulk around the Pottery Barn and Williams Sonoma. It's not really "buying" stuff if you use gift cards, right?

Les bought a guy-friendly apron from Williams Sonoma that was on clearance, and then we went into Pottery Barn. And after about 45 minutes of deliberation about how best to spend our generous gift card bounty, we came home with this:

Thanks, Monteiros!

A chunky-knit blanket for our bed for the winter. It is way too warm to use any time soon, but we wanted something to add some texture and coziness to our bedroom, so we chose this. Something we would never buy with our own cash. For now it sits on top of the trunk in our bedroom out of reach of AugDog paws.

An unnecessary purchase if I ever saw one.

Well, it's August now, and I'm newly committed to bulking up my mindfulness muscles. If I realized anything really shocking during No-Buy July, it's that it is STILL our food purchases more than anything else that derail our budget and indulge those impulsive craving-quelling purchases. I always want more chocolate bars, more apples, more ice cream, more fancy cheese, and any food I want any time I want to eat it.

So even though I've been eating my selfish way through these first 5 days of August and just went to Trader Joe's last night, the rest of this month will be devoted to Food Mindfulness.

For us, that will mean:

• Getting serious about our food waste. Any wasted food it too much, but this month we're making it a priority to plan meals and to EAT what we buy and use up some stuff in our pantry, fridge and freezer.
• Finding this book at the library ASAP and getting into it with our menus: *
• More-with-Less Cookbook: Suggestions by Mennonites on How to Eat Better and Consume Less of the World's Limited Food Resources
• Giving Thanks to God at every meal and snack.
• Praying for Food Justice. (Maybe while fasting. I'm looking into this.)
• Figuring out a way to help/volunteer towards food security in our community (food bank, etc).
• Some version of the "7" food rules. I haven't quite worked them out yet, but I'll post them when I have. Something along the lines of eating the beans and lentils and stuff we already have + a limited number of fresh foods per week. No processed, packaged, or convenience foods.

Easy enough to lay that all out on the blog, but if No-Buy July is any indication of wobbliness, I think I'm gonna need some compatriots for this. Anyone want to join us? Even if you join us in our mantra of "It's Just One Month"?

* Some inspiration for this month's Mindfulness project, particularly the cookbook recommendation, came from this blog post on the Deeper Story blog. 

No-Buy July: Some Parameters

We're 4 days in to this year's No-Buy July, and so far so good. That might not sound like much of a feat to you, but I've already kicked down the impulse to buy several things that I would have otherwise tossed in my  actual or virtual cart.

I'm excited to see that a couple of you are up for joining us on this adventure, and we've already had some questions about the boundaries. Where is the line between "need" and "want"? What's the difference between buying something this month versus buying it on August 1? What if something I've wanted for a long time goes on sale? What about yoga/tennis/knitting/basket weaving lessons that I pay for every month?

First let me go on record with a disclaimer: I'm not a financial expert, I've never seen your family budget, and I don't know where the line between need and want will be for you. The line is wobbly, and I for one can rationalize just about anything.

This ability starts young. At my previous job, I helped arrange for volunteers to participate in a program called Junior Achievement. JA teaches grade school kids about money, the economy, and job skills. Adult volunteers to go into classrooms with visual aids and fun activities and help kids think and talk about the hard skills and soft skills of financial responsibility. I've accompanied volunteers on some of these classroom visits, and one 1st grade classroom exercise stands out in my memory as a TERRIFIC example of how early we start to recognize that the line between need and want is a blurry one.

The volunteer holds up a big card with a picture on it, and the kids are supposed to vote "NEED" or "WANT" with their own little cards. Some of the cards are straight forward, like a plate of food. But others can start up some pretty complex cultural debates, even among the Crayola set. For example, the picture of a car may be an obvious need to a suburbanite child, but inevitably in Chicago Public Schools, lots of kids will recognize a car as a WANT. They and their parents are getting along just fine without one. A home is a need, but the standard line drawing of a single family house with a fence and a yard is, in reality, more of a luxury than a need, especially to a city kid. Then you get into some rationalization. The picture of a Dog, for example. An adult can pretty easily talk a kid into recognizing that a dog is a "Want", but every stinkin' time I have seen this exercise, kids will come up with all kinds of reasonable arguments for Dog as Necessity:

• A guard dog keeps us safe.
• Some people need seeing-eye dogs to get around.
• Our dog makes our family happy. We need her.

And of course, now that we have Auggie, I put a pup into the "Need" category. But you see where I'm going with this. I can't really tell you where the line will be for you.

That said, Les and I have talked a bit about what we will and won't buy this month. For one thing, we're teetering on brokesville, so there are practical limitations. But this month is also supposed to be challenging, and reign in our impulse control. Here's the simplest way I can illustrate the parameters we are going to try to keep this month:

Things we need to pay for/spend money on this month:

• Fixed expenses: rent, car insurance, student loans, cell phone bill, internet, donations, etc.
• Food: a pared-down, realistic, well-thought-out menu of food we will cook at home, with a few limited but inevitable restaurant meals. No more than one "out" meal per week.
• Personal care necessities: we'll replace tooth paste, shampoo, dental floss, etc if we run out.
• Limited personal habit cash: I have my $15 Starbucks card, Les has a limited budget for wine and beer. Because we really weren't prepared to go cold-turkey on these liquids.

Things we will forgo:

• Stuff: new clothes, books, magazine, iTunes, notebooks, kitchen gadgets, craft supplies, garden stuff, pretty much anything one would buy at Target.
• Tennis Lessons: we had planned to sign up for the next round of classes, but we straight up can't afford it, AND I'm a bit wary of committing to twice/week classes for the next 6 weeks of inferno heat. If we budget for it, we'll sign up for the fall session.
• Food that we just "want" but is not on the meal list. No ice cream, random snacks, etc.
• Eating out more than once per week.

That's just where we are right now. If I were, say, taking zumba classes every month, I probably wouldn't skip a month if I felt that the classes were essential to my well-being and physical/mental health. But even if tennis classes were cheaper, I could probably still talk myself into a break from formal teaching and just try to commit to playing with Les twice a week. Still good exercise, and keeping up our newly-learned skills for free. But you'll have to look at your own lists and make the necessary tweaks.

If I learned one thing from trying this last year, it's that I buy WAY MORE CRAP than I ever realized. It honestly did not occur to me how often I let myself just buy things until I feel like my checking account has dwindled past the comfort zone. That's not a great way to live, and certainly not simple, green, or really even within my values.

So, there you have it. The beginning of some boundaries. Let me know what you think, how you're doing, and if you have any advice. Only something like 4 weeks to go :)

Mid-Year Do-Over Declared!

I hereby declare July 1 the start of our family's new fiscal year.

Like my money clip art? I'm not totally clear on the legal rules for  using google images on your blog, so I figured I should stick to the generic clippy art!

We have, ahem, been spending like mad this year. When I go manically through our online bank statements to figure out exactly HOW we have gotten where we are, I see only a couple of big, unplanned-for purchases: new tires on my car (Ouch. But crucial when tires are precariously worn.) and a vet visit for AugDog for some annual blood work that we should have budgeted for but did not.

We haven't been out buying lots of stuff (some stuff, admittedly, but not loads). The tale of woe that you can glean from our bank statements is that we spend $10 here and there (lunch, bottle of wine, fig tree, Starbucks, blah blah) and a whole WHOLE lot of money on food. Food we cook and food we grab on the go. Like, a staggering amount.

In reality, our spending troubles boil down to two main personal glitches: failure to plan and poor impulse control.


We have all these great ideas for healthy food to cook and we go to Whole Foods, the Farmer's Market, and Trader Joe's with Good Intentions Goggles on or something. We THINK we will totally make all 6 recipes for which we just gathered ingredients. We are SURE we will go through an entire bag of organic spinach. No matter how many times we toss out a slimy bag of half-eaten greens or scoop underwhelming leftovers into the trash, we still think we can and should shop to our ideals rather than our reality.

That, and we buy a lot of wine and beer. Summer nights on the back porch have ratcheted up our alcohol consumption.

Anyway, this accidental spending spree lifestyle is not gonna work. "No Buy July" was a great exercise last year, I'm going to do it again this year and rope Les into it as well. We've gotta get it together, people. We're regrouping. We're looking at our family budget as the moral document that it is: I spend money on things that I value. If I value generosity, simplicity, and debt-free lightness, then I gotta put my money where my mouth is. Oh, and "where your treasure is, there will your heart be also". I don't want my treasure or my heart to be in my closet or my fridge.

No Buy July will be a good entry point for reworking our finances and enacting some of the other principles from 7. We're not going to bring home any non-essentials this month. No magazines, no books, no clothes, no random cosmetics or hair junk or cool pens or house-prettying stuff. AND we're going to force our brains to figure out the actual amount of food we can cook and eat per week and not buy any more than that. Period.*

If you've never tried a month-long life experiment, I encourage you to give it a shot. I know it is kind of lame, but going for one whole month without ANY pop was kind of empowering, and it encouraged me through tiny impulse control successes that I really can make better choices. All those little decisions ramp me up for Bigger and Better choices. It's a start, anyway.

* Coffee is considered an essential in our house. However, Les bought me a $15 Starbucks gift card last week which we decided is a reasonable monthly latte budget. But other than that card, I gotta make home-made coffee work.

The Best (and Worst) of 2011 Part 1

My Favorite Purchases of 2011This was the first year I really tried to get a lasso around my spending impulses. It was tough, but I can say confidently that I learned from experience in 2011 that More Stuff Does Not Equal More Happy. It's not like I went on a permanent spending fast. Trust me, I spent plenty of money in 2011. But No-Buy July went pretty well, and I have talked myself out of dozens (maybe hundreds) of purchases this year. By putting the kibosh on some of my most long-standing chemical dependencies (commercial face-wash, hair dye, fancy makeup, perfume, chi-chi body wash), my feet darkened the door of my arch-nemesis (Target) far less often in 2011. Staying out of Target greatly reduces my tendency towards impulse-purchasing.
But I did buy some great stuff in 2011. Here were my faves:

Burt's Bees Tinted Lip Balm.
Love. It. I love everything about it. It's a lovely sheer shade that makes your lips look like a better, rosier version of their natural pink. It is actually quite moisturizing, too, as opposed to some of the BB line that is a bit drier and less smooth that this version. Plus, it's 100% Natural AND it's made right down the road in Durham. Yay!

My Nikon D5100
I'm still learning how to use it, and it was by far the spendiest thing I bought in 2011, but I have grown to love it. Really, if you are only going to make a few big purchases, it's best to make sure it is something you love.

I went back to using bareMinerals makeup after several years of liquid foundation. It's not the #1 most greenest-like-ever makeup brand, but one shaker lasts me a good 4 months, so factor in the longevity and I think it does pretty well. It rates pretty well on the Skin Deep site as well. Not awesome, but a solid good choice. And it works for me, so I don't have to keep trying and then discarding other failed attempts.

To-Go-Ware reusable bamboo utensil set
Yes, I am one of those intolerable people who brings her own utensils to restaurants. And after many solo lunches to get my courage up, I will now even use them when I go out with friends if disposable stuff is the only option. I keep them in my purse, so the other bonus is that I am never without a spoon in case I find myself in a "I wish I could eat that Ben and Jerry's right here in the grocery store parking lot" emergency. That alone should inspire you to go get some of these.

I'm sure there are other cool things that I bought this year, but those are my favorite.

And here's a quick list of my LEAST favorite ill-fated purchases to serve as a cautionary tale:

• Physicians Formula "eco" mascara - smears, greenwashing, ugly packaging
• Natural Toothpaste - I've tried several, and they all either have SLS in them and/or taste like semi-liquid chalk. If you have any suggestions, please send them my way!
• Natural deodorant - I didn't find one this year that would work for me, an office drone, for whom pit stains and constant, distracting dampness and vague odor are a workplace liability.

So there you have Part 1 of the Best and Worst! I'll work on the other installments during upcoming lunch breaks. Did you have a great new purchase in 2011? Tell me about it!

September Challenge - Balance and Grace

I had been really excited about the September goal I had planned, mainly because it involved shopping. Even though I haven't had a "back to school" excuse for about 11 years now, glimmers of fall weather still make me want to throw out everything in my closet and start fresh with tweed and tights. And since I actually did come into some unexpected cash thanks to a random gift from my mother-in-law, I thought it could be fun to challenge myself to re-invent "my look" with the greenest options for my budget. Kind of a "Get the Look for Less [Impact]" challenge.

Oh, what fun that would be!

Except.

I can't get into the buying spirit. Haunted by the famine in Somalia, an invite to a benefit dinner for and NGO that works with victims of human trafficking, pictures online of the families in the path of the Carolina storms that watched their houses wash into the surf. I had an existential meltdown on Friday, tried to tack together some calm and balance with a heavy pinch of rationalization and then tried to go shopping Monday. It didn't really work out.

In an almost humorous fashion, my purchasing attempts were thwarted at nearly every turn. As in suddenly there are no cashiers anywhere to be found and all the customers are milling around baffled and annoyed, so I put down my would-be purchases and leave. Or putting a skirt on hold at the first store I visit, walking around for a few more hours, deciding to return to buy it only to find the store had closed early for some reason. Or the Whole Foods-ish store that had EVERY kind of natural makeup I could have wanted, except, you know, the one I wanted. Left again. Got more and more discouraged. Sigh. (In the interest of full disclosure, I did eventually buy 2 things before heading home. And they were not at all green. I like them, but I'm a little disappointed with myself. Hello, emotional buying.)

This Overwhelming Ugh doesn't feel like guilt, really. Because guilt can often be assuaged with a donation here or there. It's like a punch in the stomach. And an ache in my heart. Reflecting on what a freakin' privilege it is to choose an organic wool jacket or some made-from-scratch eye shadow. To choose anything, really. To have a bank account. With money in it. The illusion of safety, the trappings of comfort.

Green with Grace. Grace grace grace grace grace.

Blogfriends, do you think there is a way to balance this? I couldn't shake the idea that maybe the unexpected cash was meant to pad a donation, or buy something for someone who needs it. Can I go half-sies? Sort of a "One for you, One for me" strategy? How do you decide when you "need" something? As in work clothes that allow you to dress your age and your current actual size?

How do you have grace with yourself, while acting boldly and counter-culturally in a world so jam packed with injustice?

Les and I had a pow-wow about all this stuff and he (God bless him) was a total rock star about everything. Of course we want our family to have our eyes on the right prize. And the prize is definitely not "more stuff". Here's what he and I came up with so far after my sob-fest. I'm not listing this to show off how holy and awesome we are. We're totally totally not. You've been reading long enough to know that maybe 22% of my ambitions actually come to any kind of fruition. But maybe by writing them I will be more accountable to actually do them:

1. Invite our friends to an in-person and virtual Letter Writing Party to urge our leaders to make the famine in Somalia and the refugee crisis a priority. Spread the word in FaceBook. Talk to our pastors about addressing it in church.
2. Research some effective non-profits and make a donation.
3. Pray for the people (mostly mothers and children!) who are literally LITERALLY starving to death. Especially whenever we give thanks for our food. Maybe even fast sometimes to do this.
4. Attend the benefit dinner and learn more about human trafficking, and how we can help.
5. Live joyfully, thankfully, and mindfully. Keep thinking of ways to be bold about the stuff that breaks our hearts.

Ok. well, that's a start at least. So my shopping challenge has morphed into a challenge of Balance and Grace. Sorry to be a bit bleak, but, you know, this is where I am this month. I'm sure I'll buy stuff too, but all purchases are going to have to pass a whole checklist of scrutiny before it makes it into my house from now on. That's the plan, anyway. Oh, the best laid plans.

A Carefully Planned Splurge

It's already August, and time for another Gray Hair Update. But I'm hoping to get my scraggly tiger-striped hair cut within the next couple of days, so I'm going to hold off on the update photo.

But I do want to give a quick recap of No-Buy July.

It went....um... pretty well!

I managed not to buy any new clothes or books or other random impulse purchases. I didn't "Go to Target for Toothpaste" and come home with $122 worth of stuff. Not that that has ever happened before, I'm just sayin'. Hypothetically of course. I DID buy those $16 worth of magazines at the Borders liquidation sale. And Les and I still managed to spend tooooooo much money on groceries and beer/wine in July. But it felt pretty great to realize that I could talk myself out of most of my spending urges.

But before I pat myself on the back too hard, I did also make my single largest purchase of the year in July.

Blogfriends, meet my new Bff/Nemesis:

I've been jonesing for a DSLR camera for a few years now. I had a film SLR camera back in the day, and I had just barely started to get the hang of it right before film cameras became extinct, and camera batteries and film developing became prohibitively expensive. Especially for someone who was inclined to take 14 pictures of the same flower bud, hoping that ONE of them would be frameable.

But as you can probably tell from the lackluster photos on the blog, my digital point-and-shoots have been sort of crap. Portable, easy to use, and totally competent when taking photos in perfect outside outdoor light of completely immobile objects that do not have eyes or nerves or blink or breathe.

At the beginning of this summer, when I realized that I was going to have 5 paid wedding flower gigs between May and September, I talked with Les about using the income from that side gig to finally bite the bullet and buy My Dream Camera. He agreed, on the condition that whatever camera I chose had to be one capable of taking Pro-quality Poster-sized-Frameable Photos of Auggie. To which I replied, "Duh."

And so, I read reviews, talked to pro photographers, and stalked sales.  Two weeks ago, I saw a sale which posted the above pictured Nikon D5000 for almost $200 off the sticker price. It's a little MORE camera than I was planning on buying, but with the sale, it actually came in cheaper than the more basic version below it. And the D5000 has a built-in instructional guide right there in the handy viewfinderscreenthingy. Which has already been crazy helpful.

But I still almost returned it. It's intimidating. It's going to require a lot of work to get up to speed and be able to take the kinds of pictures I want to take. And, sadly, it's probably going to cost me at least $500 in extra lenses to be able to get a decent zoom or macro shot. Boo. I came thisclose to returning it and just buying a Super Fancy Point and Shoot. But as the last day of my 14-day return window came around, I finally started to get some photos that made me happy. Still kind of crunchy and imperfect, but I'm learning. And so SO much better than the tiny compact cam I have been using. So I kept it. The fact that I could not find the carefully-placed-so-I-wouldn't-lose-it receipt also factored into my decision to keep it, but I try not to dwell on that detail.

So hopefully the Blog photos will show marked improvement thanks to this investment. If they don't, please tell me so I can try to hock the thing on Craigslist before I lose my mind.

A Case Study in Will Power Failure

It's the 25th of July, and I have to say, I have done pretty well with this month's MISSION IMPOSSIBLE. I've talked myself out of numerous JCrew *Extra 30% Off!* sale purchases, and deleted my Anthropologie Summer Sale email without even opening it. I haven't even gone to Target this month.

But then this morning I got off the Metra at the train station and was dazzled by the UP TO 40% OFF! STORE CLOSING! posters slathered over every centimeter of the station Borders.

My heart pounded. I started talking myself down from the urge to loot the whole store. But I knew how this Blowout Sale would go down. By this afternoon, that store will look like a swarm of ravenous locusts had descended upon it. You'd just find a few Happy Horses 2011 calendars and some slow cooker cook books lying disheveled on the floor. Tumble weeds would blow through the aisles. People would be disassembling the book cases and carrying away the wood.

But still, I tried to resist. Until I saw a 40% OFF sign hanging from the magazine section.

Oh. Joy.

I felt a serious daze come over me, and I walked straight to the rack and yanked out 5 - YES FIVE - of the magazines I have not let myself ever buy. The magazines that I only graze my fingers over adoringly in book stores because I do not know anyone who subscribes, and I refuse to pay $6 for them.

Ok, technically I have bought Martha Stewart Weddings before, but only when I was engaged. And I can justify that one as a "work expense" for my wedding flower side gig. I have not justification for the other stuff.
So with just 7 days to go until the end of the No Buy July, I failed. I got a really super deal on something that never EVER goes on sale and brings me a great deal of enjoyment. But I still failed. I'm going to console myself with the decision to not crack them open until my vacation next month, since I would have inevitably bought magazines for the flight.

Sigh. I guess one $16 failure this month is still better than I do most months on impulse purchasing. Maybe I'll go over these mags in urgent, delighted detail on the plane and then realize that they were not worth the $16 or the mission failure. Or, maybe I'll remember that magazines are one of my chief joys in life and clutch them to my chest with glee. It could really go either way.

In the interest of full disclosure, I did also buy a very BIG purchase last week, but it was planned, budgeted for, and sales-stalked for quite a while. I'm on the fence about keeping it, but if I do, I'll definitely give it a Big Reveal on the blog.

Frugal Food

We've had some successful food experiments over at the G3 apartment this week. Which I think only happened because I also didn't have any after-work plans. Seriously - working moms, or any moms, HOW DO YOU DO IT?

I wasn't sure we could really scrape together a week's work of dinners and lunches without going back to the store, but we did it. Regretably, our kitchen is too revolting for me to have taken any photos of our successes. No, really. I was assembling our dinner plates on straightened-out stacks of dirty dishes last night. You know - you put the dirty plate on top of the dirty cooking pot to make it level and hide the dirty utensils inside the pot and then put your clean dinner plate on top of the teetering pile and scoop on your delicious creation. TMI? That's how we roll in the Shoebox With Scant Countertops.

Last night was my favorite Kitchen Win: Bootleg Bean Chilaquiles. I've never actually eaten chilaquiles, but they always smell delish when other people order them, and decided that I had everything we needed to do a version. Everything except fresh cilantro, which I am avoiding until I can find organic.

I cut up some corn tortillas with kitchen shears and toasted them in some butter in the skillet, making quite delectable little frito-like semi-crunchy corn shreds. Removed them from the pan and set aside. Then I used the hot pan and a tiny bit more butter to cook up the chopped remains of an onion that has been in our fridge for almost too long. Added the leftover black beans, heated them up, then took our two remaining cage-free farmers market eggs and scrambled them in with the beans and onions. Then you just put some of the fried tortilla shreds on a plate, top with the egg/bean/onion mixture, and then top that tasty pile with salsa and avocado. And cheese of course.

Cleaned out the fridge and enjoyed a delish mish-mash of stuff for about, um, $1 per person. SCORE. 

Trial and Error

So guess what? It's July 5 and Les and I have already spent over half of our newly-winnowed grocery budget, and have gone $11 over our monthly "food not cooked at home" budget! Whoo-hoo! It's gonna be a fun month.

It's so weird. When I was in grad school, I honestly and truly ate saltines and peanut butter some weeks because I ran out of money. Friends were sending me Trader Joe's gift cards in the mail because they suspected I was broker than broke. Les lived on a grad school budget for EIGHT YEARS. So how did we go from penny pinching rock stars to overspending freakos in just a few short years?

I guess you could also ask how I went from marathon runner to never-runner in just 2 years.

The answer, I think, is the same for both. Slacking off on the discipline that makes certain things in one's life run smoothly and naturally. When I committed to the marathon, I committed to early morning runs. I committed to not wearing high heels for 6 months, to eating and not eating foods that fit my training. I knew I would not be able to go out with my friends every time I wanted to, or stay out late before a long run. But it was OK, because everyone knew I had my Eye on the Prize. And that eventually your life would go back to normal.

Same with budgeting and living well with less. When you're in grad school, you have this goal of finishing up your degree and then getting on with your life. There's a light at the end of the tunnel. A goal. And everyone knows about it. You can put up with ramen and sly gifts of pantry staples from friends because you know that in a couple of years you'll be able to buy our own darn pasta, thank you very much....

So how do you define what you hope will be a New Normal? Hopefully this blog will help some with the accountability. But we're really going to have to re-learn how we eat, shop, and spend quality time with our friends. Because we ate out 4 times this long weekend (ONE WEEKEND!) and there went our whole pot of money for the month. There are other ways to hang out with people you love, so I've just got to bit the bullet and suggest a walk, or an ice cream cone rather than dinner and drinks. The point is the "together", not the spending, right?

Yeah, well, that's the update so far on this month of trial-and-error as we try to put our money where our "live well and spend less" mouths are. 

July Gray Hair Update and... Mission Impossible

Well blogfriends, it's July. Hard to believe, considering I have felt "summer hot" exactly one day so far since May. Oh, and Chicago got golf ball-sized hail barfed all over its north side it last night (thanks to our official sponsor of summer - Freaky Weather). But even if I have to squint at my calendar and rub my eyes in disbelief, my roots know that another month has passed....

Lots of you who know about the G3 Experiment come up to me and say things like "But I don't really see that much gray!", which is true, weirdly - you don't notice it so much from straight on...

Me in my office cube!

You would, however, see a growing epicenter of kinky, chemically unscathed white if you were tall enough to view my head from above...

My gray hair + florescent overhead lighting. Unnaturally extra white, but realistic for where I spend most of my day.

So, progress. There were only a few days in June where I wanted to sneak incognito to Target and buy a bottle of dye. Those days are fewer and fewer every month.

That was the hair update. Now, on to MISSION IMPOSSIBLE
Les and I decided (actually, I decided for us, since I am the CFO of our household) that July 1 was going to mark the start of our new Fiscal Year. We need a fresh start. A realistic picture of our sitch-ee-a-shun, now that we are officially a one-income family again.

We'd both sort of lived it up last year for the first time in our adult lives. Having 2 incomes felt like a big gasp of breathing room after years and years of tight grad school/crap job/student loan hell budgets. Starbucks? Don't mind if I do! Buy my lunch every day this week? Why not!  Don't you think Auggie could use $42 worth of treats this month? Why yes, yes I do! Whoo-hoo!! We're grown ups now! We can buy things! Word to the wise: Good Grown Ups are responsible, and they have impulse control.

Fast Forward to the end of June, and I'm getting twitchy that my latte days are far far behind me now.

With bank statements in hand, I turned to the nifty free budget planning tool over at Google Docs and plugged in my income and all our fixed expenses. Feeling pretty good about those numbers, I started playing with the other stuff. The groceries. The Eating Out. The Random *EXTRA 30% OFF* JCrew purchases. You know. The stuff you have to really wrangle to the ground if you're going to stick to a budget.

My first set of "dream budget" figures ended up with us being $141 in the hole every month. Boooo. After some jockeying and trimming, I came up with a budget that would leave us with about $30 extra every month. Which I promise you we will need, since are BOTH Spendy McSpendertons at our house. The learning curve could be tearful.

The New Budget for FY 2011-2012 does include some discretionary money for both of us, so I can get my latte fix every once in a while, and not have to pass up the perfect clearance-rack skirt if it is really awesome. But the reality is that I have way WAY too much stuff as it is.

Which brings us to the MISSION.
To not buy anything that I do not actually need for my daily life for the entire month of July.

You heard me.

NOTHING.

No magazines, shoes, organic paraben-free mascara, funky earrings, or $2200 oil paintings of cows. (Yes, I am pining for a cow painting I saw at a cafe on Wednesday. I even asked Les if I could buy it when I sell my car).

Think I can do it? If so, cheer me on. July is looking like a looooong month from my chair. I'm hoping July can really kick-start a commitment to living simply. Or at least help me be grateful for all the great stuff I already have.

The Stinky Truth about Antiperspirant

GOOD Health just published this helpful article about why antiperspirant is bad for you. Really bad. Even if only some of the potential risks turn out to be as bas as they sound, it's probably worth considering an alternative.

Which is distressing, because there are few things that gross me out about my body more than sweaty armpits. I hate hate HATE the feeling of damp pits. And the sneaking suspicion that YOU are the stinky person that everyone is scooting away from on the Metra on the ride home.

I got this little trial size of Alba Botanica deodorant to try:

Which I'm excited to try next week, because the women's deodorant they recommend in the GOOD Health article (La Vanila) is EIGHTEEN DOLLARS per stick.

$18?

Really?

Could I just make some myself?  Well, that will be my next trick. My friend Kathi has made her own anti-stink sticks, and thinks they work pretty well. If the Alba doesn't do the trick, I will be your home made deodorant guinea pig.

Friday Faceoff: Time vs. Money vs. The Planet

Today's Friday Faceoff is more of a pondering than a definitive contest. But I've been thinking about this a lot this week - How do you decide between these three things?  Are you generally consistent throughout your life and home, or do some decisions lean towards time, some towards money, and some towards Green?

I'd love to say that I always choose The Planet. Obviously, that would be a lie, or I wouldn't be sitting next to a small hill of used tissues when I could have used a handkerchief. But who uses a hanky? Is it even sanitary? Most people, even very earth-gentle people, will not blink about using disposable tissues (especially during allergy season) or TP (thank heaven), but what about other things?

Open my freezer, and you will see 2 frozen pizzas. Les and I love frozen pizzas, and thankfully, there are some very tasty options for around $5. They save time and money for sure, but they come in a cardboard box and are wrapped in their own little plastic shrink-wrap. They were shipped around the country and kept at freezing temperatures for their entire lifecycle. Our little pizzas have a pretty big footprint. Do I care? How much should I care?

I actually HAVE more time to put into things like cooking, composting, recycling, and general greening. Some of those things save money, even though they take a lot of time. Sometimes, though, it's a heckofa lot cheaper to buy a $5 tasty frozen pizza from Trader Joe's than to buy all the ingredients to make one. And then you have the chopping, and the inevitable food scraps. Hm.

I'm going to surf around and try to find an InfoGraphic about this. I'll let you know if I find a handy flowchart... But in the meantime...

When I was thinking about a reasonable way to make choices about these things, I had an idea to make a "Green Budget". Sort of like a monetary budget, but for the environment. The idea goes something like this: Determine all the positive things I'll commit to do every month/year and put them in one column, then put all the things I'm willing to wiggle around about, then list all the things I am not in a position to scrap or start doing in a third column. The goal is to make sure that the positive column is at least longer than the third column, and to start moving things from the middle column over to the first.
Like this:

Green Commitments
Change all the light bulbs to CFLs or LEDs
No more paper towels or napkins, except to clean up dog-related messes
Meat-free diet
Only local, organic eggs
Soy or almond milk, freeze leftovers before expiration date
Switch over all cleaning products to some combo of baking soda + vinegar
Use only bar soaps with little/no packaging in bathroom
Make my own laundry detergent
Let my gray hair grow out!
Walk or take public trans as much as reasonable
Use only reusable grocery bags
Recycle everything I possibly can
Stop buying ANYTHING new unless it can meet some stringent criteria
etc, etc....

Wiggling, considering
Trying again to grow our own herbs in the window?
Get a bike?
Community composting?
Selling and/or donating a LOT of our stuff?
Clothing swap?
Sewing up all the holes in ALL of my socks?
Handkerchief? Maybe?
Only replacing clothes items as they wear out, and trying to source organic cotton as much as possible?
Not buying ANY new plastic?
Sell one of the cars?
Limiting any food that comes in a package?
Try canning seasonal produce this summer?

OK to take a pass on...
Home-made/uber green dish washing detergent, until one that works is developed
Giving up the dog pee-pads in winter and just mopping the floor every single day
Trying to eat truly seasonally in Chicago in winter
All-natural deodorant
Upgrading to bamboo or organic cotton sheets, at least until the new wedding sheets have deteriorated
Going full-vegan
etc, etc....

Maybe that is a lot more trouble than it's worth. But for me, making a list of the things I am doing and/or commit to start doing helps me feel more "OK" about using a paper tissue or buying a frozen pizza. It can be helpful to see that you've already made some progress, and get an idea of things you're willing to try. Maybe that's just me. Thoughts? How do you make decisions about stuff like this?