littlegreendot

2007-10-19T21:51:00.000-05:00

2007-10-19T20:58:00.000-05:00

Cinderella

Blimey. Have just logged on and realized it's over a month since I last posted. I doubt even my parents are still checking in. Ah well.

We're upstate and it's raining hard. The nights are drawing in, the leaves are ablaze and there's woodsmoke in the air. All of a sudden it's nearly a year since we moved upstate to begin our experiment in country living and I'm finding myself terribly nostalgic for that wood-stove-warmed bubble we created for ourselves in our little wooden house in the snow, when my life was all greening, Dotting and blogging. The best four months of my life really. Although to be fair they're all pretty great now we've got a hilarious little person laughing, pointing and boogie-ing her way through our days.

It being October I'm indulging myself in my pumpkin fetish. For those of you who don't know, I'm so obsessed with pumpkins I actually scheduled my wedding for October 30th so I could have miniature white pumpkins as the table centerpieces (then the florist couldn't get them in England so that showed me, but anyway). So far the hubby's only had to munch his way through one batch of Nigel Slater's spicy pumpkin soup but I've just rediscovered a book called The Perfect Pumpkin my dear friend Courtney bought me as joke a few years ago and spent this evening poring over all manner of pumpkin recipes to experiment with in the coming weeks. Pumpkin Cheesecake, Pumpkin Cookies, Pumpkin Torte, Pumpkin Curry, Pumpkin Dinner Rolls, Pumpkin Ale...well, maybe not the ale.

Today I roasted a large sagey green specimen I'd bought from River Brook Farm two weeks ago. I think it was a Gray Hubbard, and anyway it seemed to weigh more than my daughter. By the time I pulled it from the oven the noble beast was listing to starboard and oozing shiny juice. I let it cool and set about scooping out the seeds and flesh. This took a lot longer than I'd anticipated and was no less involving (or messy) than stripping down the carcass of a large turkey but the flavor was excellent and I now have a panful of pumpkin sitting in the fridge ready to be blended, beaten and baked into pumpkin muffins for breakfast and soup for lunch tomorrow before it's off to the farm to try a new variety. What I don't have are the seeds I painstakingly pulled from the strings and set aside to dry roast because the hubby threw them in the bin but I suppose he wouldn't be him if he didn't do things like that all the time.

Right, must get to bed before I - well, you know what. I'll add a pic of the pixie in just a minute.

2007-09-04T12:06:00.000-05:00

Whither willpower?

I'm so weak. You remember all that stuff I wrote about in my last post? Yeah, so last night we drove back from our Labor Day weekend late to miss the traffic. We'd had a lovely weekend but not a brilliant one for sleep - someone had a dicky tum and kept waking herself up with farts quite extraordinary for one so small (I'm not talking about myself here, by the way).

As we pulled up outside our Park Slope pad around midnight, little Dot's eyes pinged open. She clocked where she was. She grinned. She squealed 'Daddy!', then 'meow!', 'woof!' and 'door!' (presumably in anticipation of the riches she knew awaited her within - she LOVES this apartment and its treasure trove of dogs, cats and doors) and finally 'mummy mummy mummy UP!'.

So I took her upstairs and went about getting her to bed. I tried the dim lighting, the boob trick, lullabies, walking, the lot. She was having none of it. I sat her on the floor for two seconds while I went to the loo and she was off like a shot, trying to climb on the sofa, getting reaccquainted with all the birthday pressies she'd opened on Friday, flinging books gleefully on the floor and flirting happily with the baby in the mirror ('baby! baby!'). Cute for about five minutes. Less cute two hours later at twenty to two on a work night. I finally wrangled her down after a bit of protest around 1.45.

This morning, bleary and puffy, I stumbled to work. Exiting the subway I passed my favourite coffee shop. I was running late. I was knackered. The reusable cup was on the 14th floor. I checked no one was looking then nipped into the coffee shop and ordered a skim cappuccino in a double paper cup and a sandwich in a cellophane wrapper.

Before leaving the shop I did a furtive double-check to ensure no one was looking and made a dash for my office, trying vainly to conceal the evidence of my hypocrisy. I don't think anyone saw.

I shut the door and downed the cappuccino while waiting for the pediatrician to call me back about the nappy sitch.

Oh dear. Only yesterday I was mulling a post about the long-lost virtue of self-control and rediscovering the satisfaction of delayed gratification. Well, so much for that. Went out the window around six this morning along with what remained of my sanity.

I'm pleased to report though that the coffee seems to have done the trick.

2007-08-29T15:13:00.001-05:00

Green Geek

I'm getting a bit of a reputation for myself around the office as a green geek. Equipped with my (now fairly battered) SIGG bottle, my Williams Sonoma reusable coffee cup (which keeps the coffee far too hot for too long but you have to suffer for your planet), a bag to stuff all my paper in to take home for recycling (the building doesn't do it - it's cheaper for them to pay the $2000/year fine than to recycle) and a ceramic plate which I dutifully cart to the cafeteria to collect my lunch, I'm doing fairly well in the no-garbage stakes.

A few weeks ago I caught my partner in greening the agency drinking coffee from a styrofoam cup. He claimed it was greener than paper or somesuch nonsense. He now keeps trying to catch me out by offering me coffee. I get all excited until I remember I haven't got my cup on me so I tell him I can't have one but not to let me stop him. This makes me seem like a total green matyr and definitely boosts my credibility as the go-to person for matters green. I also turn down bottled water in meetings, preferring to go thirsty if I've forgotten my SIGG than have a plastic bottle on my conscience.

The plate thing is the gesture which draws the most attention. As I take my sandwich back upstairs in the elevator it's almost as if people have forgotten that lunch doesn't just manifest wrapped or boxed in plastic. But I like it. Somehow lunch at your desk feels a bit more like proper food when eaten off china with a cloth napkin. My next-door neighbour at work has adopted the plate too and reports she's finding it a great awareness raiser for the good fight.

With all the spoddy gestures, people have to taken to saying to other people of me, 'oh Freya, she's hardcore'. This in turn is helping keep me on the straight and narrow - don't want to wreck my credibility by getting caught with my green trousers down (or a styrofoam cup in my hand).

But I must be careful not to let it all go to my head. After all, hardcore by New York ad agency standards is...well I can't think of a good analogy but compare me to, say, No Impact Man, and I can assure you I am really pretty useless.

2007-08-26T21:12:00.000-05:00

Does not compute

Every so often I lose my momentum a bit for the green thing. The something comes along to give me a kick up the backside. This time it was a recent Newsweek cover story Entitled "Global Warming: a Hoax" which charts the deception perpetrated on the US people - and government - by industry groups seeking to deny climate change. You can read it here.

We knew this, but this article reminds us of how systematic and calculated the deception has been.

Ugh.

What staggers me about this above all (and it staggers me on many levels) is that, when it comes down to it, these people have put the health of their business (so I suppose their wallets) above the health - indeed the survival - of their children.

How does that work?

2007-08-23T21:04:00.000-05:00

Odds and Ends

We're staying in the city this weekend. Although I absolutely love being at the house, this somehow feels like a holiday. But it reminds me there were some anecdotes from last weekend I'd meant to post.

The first: as we drove across the river to the house at the end of a rather long journey up, I became conscious of a sort of high pitched wheezing which I realized had been going on in the background on and off since we left the city.

'What's that noise?" I aksed the hubby.

"Oh, that's the gaffer tape I stuck over the hole in the engine," he replied in an offhand way, like he mended car engines with tape every day of the week.

"What, so our car really is stuck together with sticky tape?" I replied. How very Blue Peter. I'd only thought it felt like it was.

Then there was the trip to Pecks, the local supermarket, where as usual I was forced to eat humble pie. As I was trying to fit far too much stuff into the one reusable bag I'd brought with me while wrestling the credit card from Dot, who was lording it over the supermarket from the vantage point of her first ever go in the child seat of a trolley (in our poncey Brooklyn supermarket she sits right in the basket on one of those mini-basket-trolley things), the cashier said, "Oh, hold on, I need to take some off because you brought a bag."

This was new. "Really, how much do I get back?" I asked, thrilled.

"Three cents," she said. Well, ok then.

As I was manoevring Dot's chariot out the door I noticed a pile of red cloth bags with a 'Shop Rite reusable bags' sign next to them. I think they cost 10 cents or something. How brilliant is that?

Next time I'm going to spy on the other shoppers to see if the plastic bag message is doing any better there than it is in Manhattan. Here I keep seeing people on the subway, an Anya Hindmarch 'I'm not a plastic bag' in one hand and...a plastic bag in the other.

I think I also meant to tell you how unbelievable the selection is at River Brook Farm at the moment. I go to the UK for 2 weeks and they go harvest festival-tastic. Quite unbelievable - garlic, (pink) potatoes, watermelons, squash, spinach, basil, (purple) carrots, aubergines, peppers, broccoli, dill, fennel, salad, (green, purple) tomatoes and so on and so on - and there are only three of them doing the whole thing. Incredible. We also got the most delicious white peaches, blackberries and plums from the Callicoon farmers market. Good times for farm market geeks like me.

I think there was more to tell but it eludes me and I better get to bed. The hubby's sighing and yawning in a way that suggests he's trying to get my attention.

2007-08-23T20:31:00.000-05:00

I'm channeling Bon Jovi. Please help...

I can't believe how long it's taken me to get round to telling you this, but I think the mother-in-law has cracked the shampoo issue.

She came to see us several weeks ago laden down with gifts, among them a bottle of Green People moisturising shampoo. It's great. Leaves my hair all smooth and silky, like it hasn't been since the Kerastase amnesty. It is of course paraben-, petroleum- and sodium lauryl sulfate-free. Hurrah. I could even use it on Dot (though she has her own California Baby, don't you know).

She (the MIL) subsequently got me the conditioner too for collection it when we were in the UK. It seemed full of promise. Then the hubby packed it in his hand luggage on the way from Dublin to Bristol and it had to be relinquished at check-in - bugger.

Am now trying to decide if I can justify ordering some online and incurring the airmiles. I've done a bit of research and they're such a nice company I think I might have to. Or if anyone reading is planning a trip over soon, will you be my Green People mule to cut down on postage and packaging? Humid August in New York is not a good place for anyone's hair.

2007-08-14T21:55:00.000-05:00

Some holiday snaps

2007-08-14T20:51:00.000-05:00

Dazed and confused

Dear friends, I'm so sorry I've been quiet for so long with not even an explanation for you. We went off to see the family in England and attend our friends' wedding in Ireland, in between which we stole a few days to ourselves in a cottage on an organic farm in Tipperary with an overnight sojourn to the Aran islands.

Ah, it was blissful. Over two weeks hanging out with my darling girl and the hubby exploring, slowing down, walking, breathing, reading (real books!) and staring at the sort of landscapes that heal the soul (I can recommend the view across to Connemara, the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher from Dun Aengus, a 4000-year-old fort on Inishmor, at sunset, especially if surveyed while inhaling the scalpy scent of the flaxen-haired 11-month old pixie snoozing in the baby bjorn on your chest).

Seeing the grannies was also marvellous (and when I say grannies, I include grandpas and uncles and aunts, and great grannies and great uncles, too) partly for the extra pairs of hands but mainly to share the pixie with people who get almost as big a kick out of her as I do. I have a nasty feeling I shall need to un-eco-friendlyly fly them here more often; either that or move home...

Things seem to have gone a bit haywire since we got back. A jetlagged baby is never a pretty thing but tonight poor little Dot puked all over the baby food aisle of a supermarket (and her mother and herself) in Battery Park City (downtown Manhattan near the World Trade Center) and was found to have a temperature of 100.6 on arrival home (she's sleeping peacefully now so fingers crossed). We were in downtown Manhattan because the hubby and I think we've decided this commute is no good for me (it cuts into my Dot time too much, psychologically I feel too far away from her, it's nearly an extra hour on the trip upstate and anyway I want to be riding my bike to work) and we miss our old life (no subways, just strolling round the West Village of a summer's evening) so in a burst of activity we decided to look at Manhattan apartments. Whether we can afford to live in the city is something we're not really talking about; for now it's enough to poke about on the offchance we find something ideal. We tend to get lucky like that.

And then we did. Well, if we find ourselves with $1.2M to spare, we did. A green building going up right on the river. Green roof, recycled water, fresh air circulating, bamboo floors, energy-efficient devices, a poet's cafe, organic bakery, kid's playroom and branch of the NYC public library on site, free bike storage, Zipcar pick-up center and swings and other kiddie stuff right out front. All with air that feels fresh and a 20 minutes from work. It's kind of greenie heaven (although I struggle with the fact it's a new build and the kitchen cabinets are decorated with hardwood - i.e. not that green but anyway...)

The weirdest bit was the hubby loved the idea. I'd barely bothered to suggest a green building even though I'd been reading and dreaming about them, assuming he would scoff and dismiss it out of hand.

"No, it makes total sense," he said. "Apart from anything else, everyone will want a green building in a few year's time so it'll be worth a fortune."

So we went back to look today. Dot was laughing and boogieing all over the apartment. The bathroom was a bit naff but otherwise it was lovely. The sun was shining, there was a refreshing breeze, people were biking, blading, sailing and kayaking past the front door. The hubby was sizing the place up to see if he could shoot there.

Then Dot was sick. Then I hit a rough patch. Was it worry about her puking? The thought of dragging her in the buggy back to Brooklyn and up endless stairs on my own in shoes that were rubbing and with 73 bags of crap to carry? The hormones from being back at work, apart from Dot? Being a spoilt brat at seeing a dream apartment which ticked all the boxes but that we couldn't afford? Or the reality of another manic day in the office, dreaming of the greening/Dotting/blogging days of yore?

Ah, who knows. And now I'm home in Brooklyn it's cool and peaceful and I wonder if we should just stay. The other option is to go and live on Inishmann for a year to grow vegetables and write a book. That's what I'd really like to do.

At least I think it is.....

2007-07-09T20:24:00.000-05:00

I promise soon to be good but....

Back in the city today and New York summer is in full, sultry effect. God it's hot - didn't realize how lucky we were upstate with the shady trees and cool breezes. Here the concrete and tarmac hold onto the heat and everywhere you got there are air conditioners blasting hot air in your face. You can barely catch your breath.

I didn't realize how bad it was until I left work. I got that my-feet-are-about-to-explode feeling as soon as I stepped out of the office. And no respite in Brooklyn either - I thought it would be cooler than Manahattan but I almost feel like it's worse - with no skyscrapers there's even less shade.

So my guilty admission is that we have the AC on. Not on high, but on. Not quite sure how we'd manage without, not now we've got Dot. She had a sweaty top lip in the car this morning as it was. Wonder if having no AC upstate and doing the lights out thing cancels out the carbon emissions from the journey there and back?

Anyway, at least we had lots of lovely fresh fruit and veg to remind us of the weekend. For those of you interested in my farmer's market exploits, find of the weekend was a punnet of tiny, juicy tart little gooseberries, closely followed by some gorgeous redcurrants. But then Alice's special mix of eight basils (including my favourite thai basil) was pretty amazing, as were her English peas and the first sweet little yellow tomatoes. Oh, and as I was checking out of River Brook Farm on Sunday, Neil came into the barn with a surprise for Alice - a colander full of little red potatoes, fresh out of the ground - the first of the year. I bought a big bagful and we had them with a smudge of mayonnaise on Sunday, the freshest potatoes I've ever eaten. Yum.

Right, time to go because I'm starting to sound like a wannabe Nigel Slater but before I do, one more thing. I spoke at a panel a couple of weeks back. If you want to see some hideous pictures of me (and get a flavour for what i do as my day job), go to

http://adage.com/article?article_id=119058

and click on 'watch video'. That harsh lighting is not kind...

2007-07-09T20:08:00.000-05:00

Cardboard box fun

The good ship Dot

And that naughty shady crab

Eating sand is quite eco-friendly though...

2007-07-06T21:28:00.000-05:00

We are sailing...

So of course I've completely changed my mind about the garden. It was inevitable - I do this about everything, all the time.

Maybe it was the seed of doubt sowed by the brother, or the erstwhile charming weeds starting to look a bit tatty, or the strange triffid-like things that have begun to overtake the entire house and garden, threatening to swallow a family member whole (and which I discovered this evening could be pulled out of the ground with barely a flick of the wrist) or maybe it was the neighbour's perfectly ramshackle country garden overflowing with rustic roses, columbine and these lovely golden foxglove-like things....who knows? But anyway, as the Nigel Slater chicken wings with black pepper crisped up in the oven, I was to be found out the front plucking armfuls of triffids from the ground while dreaming of being able to afford an organic landscape architect (Jamie's suggestion - well let's see, once the porch is done, you never know, J.)

I could also just be a bit obsessed with the garden because me and Dot have spent much of our week together contriving ways to entertain ourselves outside (and as I type I'm in a deckchair on the lawn, feet to the fire, lanterns behind me, creek roaring in the background, fireflies out in force. Clearly she's in bed. Oops, a firefly just landed on me). Our three faves so far:1) careening around the garden on a plastic sledge (me pulling, her careening); 2) captaining the good ship Dot (an old rubber dinghy) into safe harbour using only salad servers as oars, then clambering out onto dry land to test out one's sea legs (the prognosis: wobbly. Well, we are still only just 10 months); and 3) setting up home in Camp Dot, a Manhattan Storage Large cardboard box last used to move one's parents to the country, but much more useful now it has a door and sides the perfect height for pulling oneself up to stand.

The verdict? By far the best week we've had in ages (well, let's be honest, that I've had), and as a reward for mummy we're almost saying 'quack quack quack', might be saying 'dog' and have definitely said 'wow' once.

However I do need to confess that we went to Wal Mart on the 4th - a waste of a holiday perhaps but the rain was torrential. We almost managed to avoid buying any new plastic toys, knowing none would be as fun as the cardboard box, but then we spotted the Shady Crab, a rubber raft with holes for little legs to go through and a sunshade to keep the sun off...

Readers, I know how awful of me this was - it might be PVC, it could have been made in China - but if you could have seen the grin as we launched it and kicked about in the river today...

Oh dear, it's a short and very slippery slope from here to $200 Nike trainers and BMW sports car.

I promise she won't get me that easily next time.

2007-07-05T20:26:00.001-05:00

Treehugging

So, I'm very excited. I've taken the week off and we're up at the house. I've got nothing to do but hang out with the hubby and Dot - bliss. Well, that and search for an eco-friendly fridge to buy, but more of that tomorrow (unless anyone can quickly tell me which one to get - I never was the consumer reports type and energy star searches are practically impossible - i need to get to bed this side of Xmas).

It's hard to know where to start when you haven't posted much in a while (it's also hard to make the time when you've got out of the habit). There are the evenings spent round the barbeque in the back garden (not sure if this is eco-friendly but figure it must be more so than using propane to fire the oven), lit only by candlelight (we've taken to using no electric lights at night, just lanterns lit by candles. Keeps the insects out, saves electricity, is terribly romantic and doesn't wake Dot up when we go to bed. Reminds me of when we used to stay at a beach bungalow with my grandparents when we were kids. There was no electricity so we used gas lamps instead). Then there's my ludicrous over-excitement about the farmers markets and seasonal food going on at the moment (I spend half the journey up here trying to guess what will have come into season this week, buying huge bags of herbs and greens and using them liberally, shelling fresh peas with gay abandon (so much meatier than frozen, I find). Alice's shelves at River Brook farm are finally heaped with produce. This week I found a bowl of tiny black raspberries - then spotted loads more in our own back garden...)

But I have for ages been meaning to write about the garden. So, I will. Our garden is approx 3/4 acre and the rough layout is house, stretch of lawn, barn, little bit of woods with a path through and beyond that a clearing surrounded by trees. On one side is a beautiful old drystone wall and the other a crappy hodgepodge of bits of fence bequeathed us by the previous owner. The wall is home to gophers and chipmunks. Our overgrown beds of wildflowers (read: weeds) attract butterflies, birds and bees. We have evidence that deer pass this way and we've had three snake sightings this summer (sorry, Pen). There are quite a lot of trees so from about 1pm onwards the lawn is in shade - perfect for hanging out with a little Dot on a blanket.

What to do with this garden has been a bit of an ongoing debate. I know nothing about gardening and having rather a lot on my plate already have not found the time to learn. I did spend a couple of weekends last summer frenziedly wrenching weeds and roots from a couple of beds but by the time I got ready to think about plants, the buggers were completly ovegrown with weeds again - it is rather vigorous here - so I gave up.

Then I stumbled on the idea of a wilderness garden (http://www.jackiefrench.com/wilderness.html - sorry, on the hubby's mac again). The idea is that you basically leave your garden wild so it can play host to all sorts of native flora and fauna as - get this - an eco-statement. No pesticides, no artificial fertilizer, no water-guzzling lawn and, the most appealing bit if you ask me, no work beyond mowing a little patch of grass to sit on.

Since this was the first green thing I'd stumbled on in a while which was actually less work than the non-eco alternative I embraced it with both arms and we've been cultivating the meadow look with reasonable success ever since. Admittedly it does look very...rustic and I'd like a bit more colour around the place - some roses, maybe a hydrangea - and I'd LOVE a vegetable patch, but whatever.

My brother and his lovely wife have just been for the weekend and little bro, who's become something of a garden expert in recent years and has a lovely neat one of his own back home in Bromley, wasn't overly impressed with the wilderness garden. He kept making kindly suggestions for things we could do to easily improve it. These ranged from 'you could replant that bed and it'd keep the weeds down naturally' through 'you could easily make a vegetable patch back there you know' and 'could you move the barn?' to 'if you cut the trees behind the barn down you could have a lovely huge lawn area and actually enjoy your garden. There are so many trees round here I hardly think it'd make a difference'. This in between leaping around in the woods extracting dead wood to tend the bonfire with - very eco-friendly and strangely satisfying - and scything weeds with a scythe from a local yard sale.

But the thing is, I don't want a lawn stretching back to there, needing watering and mowing and all that - yes because I'm lazy and oversubscribed but also because it really wouldn't make sense to do either when I'm turning the tap off while brushing my teeth and paying someone else to plant trees in my name whenever I fly. And anyway, the little magical-path-through-the-woods-to-a-tiny-clearing effect is part of what sold the house to me in the first place. Plus he hasn't tried weeding these beds. I have.

Actually, now I come to think about it, my brother is the one person I know who actually does have enough energy to tame a garden like this (80 mile bike rides at dawn, anybody?). Perhaps I could persuade him to give up his career as a high-flying dentist and become my PA gardener!

There'd have to be ground rules of course. No tree-cutting, just tree-hugging.

2007-07-04T11:22:00.000-05:00

Happy July 4th

(This is a bit of a crap post as can't seem to make the hubby's mac play nicely with Blogger, so apologies for that.)

So, of course I didn't find time to do my bag-free-fourth thing. Luckily Sally at Carry-a-bag is on the case and has created a lovely bag for the occasion. Check it out on her blog at carry-a-bag.blogspot.com.

Also, have you signed Al Gore's petition yet? I'm not entirely convinced that these things really work but since that nice Mr. Gore keeps emailing me I figure it'd be rude not to sign his thing for him, so why don't you all do the same?

http://liveearthpledge.org/algore.php

We're planning a Live Earth party for Saturday. Are you?

And finally, thanks much to everyone who took the time to recommend shampoo. Best so far is Sarah from downstairs's - I think it's called EO. Also recommended: Aveda and Nature's Gate but I must let you all know that those two do contain parabens and those are part of what I'm trying to avoid (see previous post: http://freyaanddot.blogspot.com/2007/04/are-you-suffering-whole-foods-effect-so.html). So cheers, and happy (annoyingly rainy) 4th. xxx

2007-06-23T10:31:00.001-05:00

Is vanity hereditary? And the lanky fringe

2007-06-23T10:03:00.000-05:00

Shampoozled

Aaargh, am so completely over eco-friendly shampoo. Has anyone else found any that actually works? Not to get your hair clean I mean – although sometimes even that seems too much to ask – but that doesn’t leave it either stringy, lank, frizzy or dry as straw? Because I sure as hell haven’t and my research now definitely qualifies as extensive.

I’ve tried Burt’s Bees (effect similar to using baby shampoo – dry, flyaway), Bumble and Bumble (dull, lanky), Aubrey Organics (stringy, grubby-feeling), Liggetts bar shampoo (dry again), Max Green Alchemy (dry and brittle) and even the No-Impact Man concoction of Dr Bronner’s castile soap, filtered water and olive oil (like straw). The worst bit is that even if they don’t work, I feel compelled to use them to the last drop to avoid waste, especially given they all come in plastic bottles about which my angst is growing daily (I read this article via No Impact Man)

To be fair, I am perhaps overly obsessed with shampoo – I must remind myself that I had these issues with the chemical-laced stuff too whenever I strayed from Kerastase (which is why I always found my way back) - and in a strange paradox am also both incredibly lazy about getting my hair cut (I know it might help if I did this more than once every 8 months) or doing anything with it (besides washing it) and yet a trifle vain about it.

So, dear readers, can anyone help, or should I borrow the hubby’s clippers and consign my glossy long brown barnet to the recycling bin of history - along with the Kerastase bottles?

2007-06-16T10:34:00.000-05:00

Dear Daddy,

For your first father's day I thought you'd like to help me save the planet so I've bought you an acre of rainforest in Manuel Antonio (Costa Rica) so they can protect your friends the monkeys.

http://www.kidssavingtherainforest.org/adoptameter.php

There is is only one condition for this pressie and for my continuing adoration of you which is that you take me to Manuel Antonio very soon so I can see the monkeys and our bit of rainforest. Deal?

I love you daddy. Thank you very very much for looking after me every day, for being such a cool dad and for making me laugh a lot. If you would like this loving and laughing to continue, you know what you have to do. It's easy.

Big kisses and cuddles,

Dottie.

PS Don't forget to offset our flights, k?
PPS I am also quite up for the idea of Ibiza, yes, but I think we can really justify those flights

2007-06-12T20:11:00.000-05:00

Greeny McDreamy

I went to a green conference today for work. It was pretty good. The best thing about it was Josh Bernstein - he's like Ray Mears only tall, dark, handsome, charismatic, rugged, articulate, tan...ahem, anyway, as I was saying, he made some very valid points and let's just say that when he asks you to save the planet you say 'ooh Josh, of course I will'.

He's going to be having his own show on Discovery soon in which he goes around living wiht the Inuit and suchlike checking out how badly we've messed the world up (much more severely than the media have even told us apparently - i.e. really really really badly).

In between swooning (not only gorgeous but trying to save the planet!) and nodding furiously at all his points (knowledgable, too!), I felt familiar pangs of guilt surfacing. No, not because I was being mentally unfaithful to the hubby (I wasn't anyway, honest) but because although I'm doing ok, green-wise, I have lately been committing some eco-sins I just know Josh wouldn't approve of - some of them smallish - not collecting compost during the week to take upstate - and some of them really big - last weekend we filled a skip with junk the previous owner left in the barn, none of it obviously useful (or indeed recognizable), but why did I not figure out a way to dispose of it sustainably? Lack of time, but is that a good enough excuse? No. Really not. I am useless and a hypocrite to boot. Ugh.

Actually, you know what? It was the hubby who ordered that skip, and filled it. I bet Josh wouldn't have done that. And if I was married to Josh, I bet I'd be collecting compost during the week, driving a hybrid (or a bicycle), growing vegetables, painting with low VOC paint, campaigning outside KC's headquarters...

You know, if every woman had a Josh Bernstein in her life, I bet you the world would be a much greener place. Wonder if we could clone and distribute him to the women of America?

2007-05-31T22:40:00.000-05:00

Blissful weekend upstate

New trick: waving
Daddy's girl

Swimming - v. brave (please pretend you never saw my thighs)Great grandma's vintage towel.

2007-05-31T22:11:00.000-05:00

On the swings

2007-05-31T21:24:00.000-05:00

Useless and trying to pass the buck

Oh dear. Silence from me in over a week and what have I got for you? Nothing but confessions of un-green creep. Soz.

Regular readers will know that I've been getting fairly worn down by some aspects of my frenzied greening - handmaking all of Dot's (strictly organic) baby food late at night, always making my own lunch to take to work, never drinking coffee in paper cups (recycled or not) or water in plastic bottles, never printing anything, using only eco-friendly, paraben-free beauty products, cleaning only with baking soda, vinegar and elbow grease, wearing a hair shirt (oh alright, I didn't really do that) etc etc.

Well, what I can tell you? I've been out for a few drinks with the girls, had lunch with friends, hosted a lovely bbq for 16 in our garden upstate at the weekend and been frantically busy at work, and before I knew it with all this relaxing and rushing about, Dot had had three jars of baby food, I'd bought lunch in a plastic container three times and double-cupped cappuccino from my favourite coffee shop twice (damn, those felt good - my first real caffeine in 18 months), there was kitchen roll in the kitchen (outlawed till now for several months) and Neutrogena face products and even non-eco-friendly loo roll (horrors!) in the bathroom.

And here's the awful bit: it's all been so much easier. The stress-induced spare tire is shrinking, the eczema on my hands (from washing up the magimix) is calming down, I could enjoy the weekend instead of frantically pureeing (Dot survived) and my horrible acne has all but disappeared.

Damn you, you convenient, available, tasty products that work! You are trying to pull me over to the dark side!

I kind of knew it would be like this - that as soon as I got a bit slack in one area, it'd all go to pot. (apres moi le deluge and all that (actually am a bit gutted because I always thought that meant something along the lines of 'open the floodgates a tiny bit and a huge flood will follow' but apparently am wrong. Oh well. Ahem, I digress...)). It's the same no matter what you're trying to give up - let yourself have one ciggie and you'll soon be back on 20 a day (just from observing friends, you understand) - or at least it that's the way it is for me.

Am aiming to go back to relatively cold turkey as of tonight. My week off felt good but that's all it was - a week off.

So please, dear brand owners, retailers and entrepreneurs of the world, can you hurry up and figure out ways to make it so that lapsing isn't so much more wildly attractive than sticking with the program?

Many thanks.

2007-05-17T12:58:00.000-05:00

Cleaning contretemps

I went out for a drink last night. I know, a drink! It felt wildly liberating. I hadn’t realized how long it had been until I did it. Walking down the street at night on my own, meeting a friend, sitting at the bar…It all came back to me surprisingly easily. In fact before I knew it I was halfway through a bottle of vinho verde and it was 10.30.

Anyway, that’s not really my point. My point is that I got home in a fabulous mood which only got better when the hubby announced he’d booked a cleaning lady to come today (a cleaning lady – such luxury!) and we were having a lovely chat until he mentioned The Shopping List.

Ah, The Shopping List. For those non-New Yorkers among you, The Shopping List is something every cleaner here has. It almost always features Ajax, bleach and ream upon ream of kitchen roll and your cleaner is within his/her rights to refuse to clean your house unless his/her exact specifications are met (at least, that's how they make you feel). It's been so long since I've had a cleaning lady I'd forgotten about it.

“I have to go and buy her a load of cleaning products in the morning,” he said. "She needs Ajax, Fantastik with bleach, toilet cleaner, Windex and kitchen roll."

“Er, no you don’t,” I said matter-of-factly. “We have all that Seventh Generation and Babyganics stuff, and she can use white vinegar for the windows.”

What happened next was weird. “I am not going to tell her to wash the windows with vinegar,” he exploded. “It’s not fair.”

I was a bit taken aback. I mean, it’s not as if I’ve been particularly quiet about my stance on cleaning products - you'd think he'd have noticed by now. Then it got weirder.

“Freya, she can’t do her job without this stuff. It’s like if I took your computer away and told you to do your job. She barely speaks English, she’ll be trying to clean with your crappy products and worrying if she’s doing a good job. It’s not fair on her. I won’t do it.”

See how he did that? Sometimes it’s really annoying having a sweet empathetic husband - one always come off looking like the b*%$h in the house. But I’ve been playing this game too long to fall for that one.

“Do you know women who stay at home have an 80% higher rate of breast cancer than those who go to work and it’s because of those cleaning products? And you want to expose Dot to this stuff because you won’t stand up to the cleaner? Blame me, tell her your wife is crazy, I don’t care, but I'm not having it,” I said - my turn to be all righteous and indignant. “And anyway, the products aren’t crap.”

“Yes they are. I want the house to feel clean. I want my oven shiny not all full of crusty shit,” he said, and then played his trump card. “If you want to clean the oven with baking powder that's fine but you do the cleaning.”

It's so boring when he does that. He knows I'm finding it hard to keep body and soul together and am indeed doing as much cleaning as I can muster on an almost full time job, mum-stuff, making Dot's food and five hours sleep a night and have devloped acne and a spare tyre as a result. (He does the same thing about the laundry. "If you don't want all your woolens shrunk to Dot-size, you do the laundry." Well, yes darling, but WHEN? And in case you're wondering, I write this on the subway these days so that's not a solution.) He flounced off to bed. We rolled to opposite sides of the mattress and went to sleep in frosty silence.

By this morning he’d mellowed. “Give me a list of what I have to get then and I’ll go,” he said grudgingly.

At lunchtime I called home to find out how things had gone. “Oh fine,” he said insouciantly. “She said she really likes Ecover products.”

And this evening? The house looked lovely. The lovely cleaner had been completely accommodating and was Dot's NBF. And the hubby was passing the Ecover off as his idea.

2007-05-12T20:06:00.000-05:00

Lawn Lunacy

As we savoured the River Brook farm organic local sunchoke risotto this evening (I realized after I'd posted about it before that I'd left the bloody sunchokes up here, sorry. Oh, and for your information they were delectable - crisp and juicy, looked like root ginger, tasted like globe artichokes, texture of jicama or water chestnuts), I kept looking out of the window at the new leaves shooting and the trees covered in blossom and doing a little mental jig at the wonderfulness of it being spring at last.

The day had begun with a trip across the dewy fields to the river in our pyjamas for Dot and me. It was 6.30, misty and beautiful and the birds clearly shared our enthusiasm for the intoxicating spring air.

We spent most of the rest of the day in the garden, Dot waving things around on a rug, T in the hammock (I don't usually stick up for him but having already done the laundry, been to the dump and cleared out the barn, he'd earned a rest) and me trying to mow our very uneven lawn with an old push mower - you know, one of those lawn mowers that isn't electric or petrol-powered, but that you just push. This took equal parts brute force, patience and sheer bloody-mindedness and I stuck with it only because I'd decided that a manual mower was the most eco-friendly option and I was determined it would work. Also, we already had it, bequeathed by the previous owner, which of course differentiated it from other options.

If you needed further proof I've lost the plot, persisting in this fool's errand would be it. It took hours. Our lawn is lumpy and contoured and covered in clumps of very woody super-grass. I had to pre-cut much of it with the shears. I had to lean into the mower with my whole body. Most bits needed several goings-over. I then had to rake up the clippings and chuck them in the wormery (which, by the way, looked like it had compacted, thanks presumably to the efforts of Dot's worms - goody).

When I was done, it looked like a six year-old's fringe (bangs) she's cut herself, or, as my grandpa would have said, like I'd cut it with a knife and fork (I almost had). No suburban stripes for our lawn. My shoulders, back and arms are killing me this evening and I'm sure it'll only be worse by tomorrow.

So, as seems to happen from time to time (cleaning the oven springs to mind) I have to concede that the greenest option isn't really viable. I think the next-least-bad option is to explore the principal of shared ownership as it relates to un-eco-friendly lawn mowers - that is to say, borrow one from a kindly neighbour. To make up for the power we'll incur, I'm unplugging all digital clock-radios as of tomorrow.

Come to think of it, why on earth are they even still plugged in?

Bad Freya.

PS. Forgot to tell you, T saw a snake on our lawn last saturday. A snake! Lock up your babies. I mean my baby.

And PPS, just a reminder to check out Sally Walton's bags at carry-a-bag. They are totally gorgeous reusable bags and are getting lots of attention so get em while you still can. My Mum is being a mule for a shipment over to the US next week to save on incremental carbon (she was coming anyway) so if any readers want one and let me know by tomorrow night, we might be able to persuade mum to squeeze an extra one or two into her suitcase...Nina, if you're reading, reckon you'd love the superman bag on this page.

And PPPS, Alice at River Brook Farm is raising money for some gorgeous goats she just rescued in a parlous physical condition. If you want to donate a buck or two, let me know and I'll connect you. She's truly a saint.

2007-05-09T11:38:00.000-05:00

Wormery Squirmery

Ah, what a glorious weekend. Can’t help thinking life would be even lovelier if I could spend more of it sitting in the garden in the sun watching my baby girl try to figure out what grass, stones, sticks and daffodils are. Ho hum.

Dot’s nature discoveries this weekend also included worms – 1000 of them, to be precise - about which she was rather less squeamish than I was. Yes, we finally installed the worms in the wormery. We stopped at Tom’s Bait and Tackle in Narrowsburg to pick up a ‘flat’ – that’s a large polystyrene container housing 1000 worms. At first it just looked like soil, but the owner Cliff plunged his hand in and brought out a handful of wrigglers all clumped together in a ball. He tried to get me to grab some but I hate to admit I squealed like a silly schoolgirl and leapt backwards across the store. Dot, on the other hand, encouraged by her father (who allegedly grew up eating worms) was only too keen to touch; she didn’t want to let go of her new pets and I intercepted several on their way to her mouth in the nick of time.

We took the worms home. Grady gallantly came over with a garden fork to assist. The rest of it wasn’t very dramatic; we just took handfuls (I was much bolder once I had my gardening gloves on) and placed them gently around the top of the compost bin, then covered them over with some slightly damp old leaves to keep the sun off. I checked on them today and there was no sign of them so I hope they’re doing their work down there in the compost. Being a wormery novice I am a bit worried about them – have I done it right? – but I guess we’ll know more in a couple of weeks.

While I had him, I decided to put my latest idea for Narrowsburg to Grady. The idea is to make Narrowsburg a plastic bag-free town, like Modbury in England, and to kick the commitment off on July 4th with a bag-free weekend. I’m calling the idea plasticfreefourth and the slogan is ‘this July 4th weekend declare your independence from the plastic bag’. Obviously this is partly because I hate plastic bags but also Modbury has attracted loads of press (more here too) and I’d love to see Narrowsburg do the same; could lead to a good summer for the local businesses. He's already been discussing this kind of idea with the chamber of commerce so could be up for it. Would be fab if we could pull it off; the supermarket is the tricky piece though. It’s not a big chain so if anyone has ideas as to how we could help them do it without spending $$, do let me know. (Did I mention that Modbury is about 5 miles down the road from my Granny and that I practically grew up there? So am very proud of them. It's lovely, by the way. You should go if yo uget the chance.)

As for the hybrid, I hate to tell you but it fell through. Long story involving UK drivers’ licences and car availability (they only had an SUV in the end. I couldn’t do it). So no Top Gear stylee car review from me; we may still sign up for the service but I'll keep you posted.

That’s all for now. Sunchoke risotto for dinner tonight using freshly harvested sunchokes from River Brook Farm, total food miles: 5. (Well, not counting the rice. And the drive back to Brooklyn…)

2007-05-03T11:44:00.000-05:00

Dilemmas...

Hi all. So I'm now starting to feel bad about having the place upstate at all because now we're not there full time, how can we justify the driving? (I don't think it increases our carbon foorprint any ohter ways as we live greener when we're there than - eating local, keeping lights off, low-flow loo, composting, etc). But then look how idyllic it is for the little bubba, below (and, alright, for us). I want her to have this as her antidote to nyc where we have to be to earn our living. So for now the challenge is making the drive less bad. With this in mind we're hoping to test drive a hybrid this weekend from zipcar (shared ownership concept alert). I'm excited to see how it drives. Will keep you posted. In the meantime, since we've been so crap at keeping up, I think you deserve some piccies.

Messing about on the river.

Who needs plastic toys when there are rocks to eat?
Or (empty) beer bottles?
Or daddy's glasses?

Bathing in the washing up bowl to save water. Such a greenlittledot.

2007-04-27T21:13:00.000-05:00

The dangers of being green and type A

Ah, what a week. We’ve had babies throwing up, Daddies being ill, babies getting colds, Mummies getting colds, torrential rain…clearly we are all under too much stress and need a holiday. (Oh, but we just had one of those. Dammit!) As a result we’re staying in town this weekend. Dot sleeps less well in a strange crib upstate and less well when she has a cold. I think the combo would kill me.

So, another busy week. In terms of greening, I’m trying to get the paper I want to distribute finished (I say “paper”; it will of course be distributed electronically with a line asking receivers not to print unless they absolutely have to). I’ve been working on it for weeks now but only in fits and starts, as a result of which it’s progressing at snail’s pace. I’m blaming the day job and the fact that we can’t afford a cleaner. The hubby, on the other hand is blaming the fact that I’ve developed a pathological aversion to feeding Dot jarred food and simultaneously sprouted a compulsion for making batches of food for her almost every night from fresh organic stuff.

“Has it ever occurred to you that if you stopped doing that just for a week you might actually get your paper written?” he said last night as I wearily forced yet another batch of rice and pear through a sieve. I pretended to ignore him and stomped off to the loo where, while staring morosely at the dust and chest hairs (his not mine) that had already started to accumulate around the skirting board (I only cleaned the floor this morning goddamit), allowed myself to drift off into a reverie about how nice it would be simply to open a jar and spoon it out for Dot.

But I was soon snapped back to reality by the image of baby food jars piling up in the sink - I know the jars can be recycled but as we all know recycling creates a false sense of security and it’s way better to reduce than to recycle - and the certainty that, just as tinned soup is not nearly as vitamin-packed as fresh, so jarred food has to be less nutritionally sound than the real thing.

I am considering giving myself just a few days off. After all, of course Dot would be fine and even I have enough perspective to realize that my health and sanity are more important than a few glass jars.

But will I actually do it? All I can say is, once an over-achiever, always an over-achiever...

2007-04-17T20:39:00.000-05:00

Talking Trash

One thing I find it particularly thrilling to do these days is check the bin in my office before I leave work to see what’s in there. Yesterday’s inventory: six pieces of gum and a used post-it note. Today’s: six pieces of gum, one square of kitchen roll (that’s paper towel to you Americans) and the empty wrapper of a bar of Green and Black’s 70% dark chocolate. Both made me extremely proud.

So what does this tell you about me – besides that I have a pretty serious gum habit (which I am sure is really bad for the planet, let alone my teeth/insides) and that I should get out more?

Well, when you compare it to my bin the same time last year, which would probably have contained a coffee cup and paper sleeve, muffin bag and paper towel from breakfast, a plastic salad box, possibly plastic cutlery and napkins from lunch, several old powerpoint decks (our building doesn’t recycle paper), possibly a newspaper or trade mag or three and some junk mail, it says that I’m actually doing pretty well on the not contributing to landfill thing. Nowadays I bring my lunch in my natty Sigg lunch box, take my paper home to recycle (I’ve cancelled my newspaper subscriptions) and am a complete no-printing Nazi as far as possible (this has the added bonus of meaning my desk is no longer evidence of my atrocious filing skills; you can even see a bit of desk through the few pages I have grudgingly printed or other people have printed for me).

Of course what doesn’t show up here are the paper towels I use in the bathroom. I do usually, in very ladylike fashion, dry my hands by wiping them down my jeans but now and then I lapse. So I keep meaning to bring a cloth with me for general hand-drying, napkin usage etc. which can then be washed and reused. Must pack one for tomorrow.

The gum and chocolate habits will be harder to break. After all, even a green girl has to have some vices.

By the way, am watching Robert Redford's new green segment on the Sundance Channel. Pretty interesting. Am all excited at the idea of changing our car to run on biodiesel. Now just have to find out if we can get our hands on some here. We couldn't last time I checked. Will let you know.

2007-04-14T21:41:00.000-05:00

Carbon Criminal

Thursday was not a good carbon day.

I had to fly to Rochester to visit a client. It started at 7am with a car service to the airport (I should probably have looked into public transport but it would have involved going into Manhattan and back out, and as it was I had literally five minutes with Dot before I left, and as always she won - sorry earth). Then breakfast in a plastic carton at the airport. Followed, of course, by the flight. Because of that torrential rain (and yes UK readers, I am aware you're basking in glorious sunshine at the moment) the plane sat on the runway with engine running for two hours (at least it was JetBlue, not one of those awful prop planes we used to take before JetBlue existed, but not good for mr. earth) before take off. Then it was a cab to the offices, followed by lunch in a client cafeteria that plays host to more styrofoam than I have ever seen in one place at a time, and that includes McDonalds circa 1981 (this made me feel sick, but what do you do when it's the most senior client and there's nowhere else to eat for miles around? At least I'd brought my refillable bottle with me. "Is that organic water in there?" quipped my colleague).

The meeting was what it was, and then we set off to repeat the whole thing in reverse, only this time we had a four hour delay at Rochester airport (fun!), so I got home at 10 instead of 6, obviously completely missing bedtime and making me so tired and grumpy that before I knew what I was doing I'd accepted a 30ml bottle of water on the plane - surely the least environmentally sound way to quench your thirst there is. (By the way, this isn't eco-unfriendly, but just to give you the complete picture I should add that there isn't much that is dignified about pumping your boobs with a hand pump in a miniscule aeroplane toilet during severe turbulence; nor doing the same in the scary 1970's-esque cubicle of a client toilet (loyal readers will remember my irrational fear of institutional loos), nor indeed the toilet stall at Rochester airport. Ah, the glitz and glamour of advertising.)

Anyway, I finally got home around 10 bedraggled, knackered, with sore boobs and many more pounds of carbon dioxide in debt to the planet. I'm hoping to convince work to pay to offset my flight, let me take a hybrid car service next time or better yet, not make me go at all. I hope it works because from an ideological standpoint this day was, except for the holiday, the worst offense since I started the blog.

But the worst bit of all was that Dot wouldn't speak to me on Friday morning. I mean she literally wouldn't look me in the eye. The harder I tried to ingratiate myself with my best raspberry-on-the-tummy, hair-flicking, disco-dancing, finger-waving, neck-nuzzling, peekaboo dog and pony show, the more studiedly she refused to meet my gaze (even my friend Sally noticed. "Don't be mean to mummy, Dot," she said. But Dot is a determined young lady). I think I was being sent to Coventry because of my unexplained absence rather than the carbon criminality, but you never know.

Anyhow, by bedtime she was thawing and today I was back in the good books. But for several reasons I think it's best if I try to avoid business trips for a while. I'm so blue, my mummy is a carbon criminal. Oh, I suppose she's ok really.

2007-04-10T21:12:00.000-05:00

On her tummy, on the clean floor

2007-04-07T08:50:00.000-05:00

Not co-operating

Friends, I'm sorry I've been so neglectful (or is that negligent?) of you lately For all I know none of you are out there any more. It's just that in between all this frantic working, pureeing, commuting, greening, popping upstate and of course as much Dotting as humanly possibly, not to mention getting drunk with some green girlfriends last night (it was legit - we were brainstorming ideas for my work initiatives) it's really hard to squeeze the blog thing in. But I'll keep trying for at least twice a week.

We were up in Milanville for the weekend. I took the opportunity to catch up on a bit of green reading, particularly the latest from No Impact Man (http://noimpactman.typepad.com/ - sorry no links as am on the hubby's mac), of whom I am in equal parts deeply envious and in deep admiration.

He's forced me to admit something that's been wafting round in the back of my head lately - that I've been getting slack, and that going back to work is no excuse (well, it is, I mean I'm constantly knackered and barely have time to pee, but when I do pee I'm using loo roll which is more than he is, and so I need to get back with the program. And in case you wonder what he's doing instead of loo roll, he's using rags and laundering them along with his baby's nappies. You can imagine how the hubby reacted to that little idea. And anyway we don't have a washing machine, so that's that one out the window).

So, inspired by Colin I had a weekend of green stuff. Since I'd run out of facewash and toothpaste, I followed his example and used baking soda for both. It makes for crappy toothpaste (makes me gag; I never could stand baking soda toothpaste either) but I think it might acutally be a great facewash - mildly exfolitating, it left my face feeling soft and glowy, like a Clean and Clear ad; it might be the last time I buy a plastic bottle of facewash. I also washed in a bowl with a flannel instead of having a shower Saturday morning (this was salutory - I got quite clean enough for a day of raking leaves and shovelling compost, with practically no water at all; maybe I wouldn't do this on a school day, though). Then, since the child development class I attended Friday made me feel like I was a dreadful mother for not having Dot on her tummy on the floor with her legs bare 24/7, I mopped all the floors with water and vinegar to excellent effect and plonked the little lady down. Later we stocked up on leeks, spuds, eggs, carrot and meat from River Brook farm (Alice told us she's going to have 24 varieties of potato this summer. 24 potatoes! Who knew?). I tended to my compost heap, mixing it up with lots of dead leaves from the garden to make it all nice and welcoming for the future worms (still too cold for them, though) and, as usual, chased the hubby round the house turning off lights after him.

By the time we left I was feeling fairly virtuous. Which is probably why I got up on my high horse with the hubby about the co-op on the way home. This involved me going on and on about when were we going to join and him coming up with a million excuses for not doing it, until he confessed under substantial pressure that his main objection was to having to spend one of his two spare afternoons a week 'stacking shelves next to some middle class wanker'.

I think I then went off on one about the ethos of a co-op being all about co-operation and how two and a half hours a month really wasn't much, etc. etc.

"So you're going to leave Dot again when you're not at work to go and do it, are you?" he challenged. "Or are you going to do it after she's in bed when you're so tired you can hardly stand up?"

Oh. I sulked for a bit after that because he had a point. We drove the rest of the way in silence. I'll warrant this debate will be continued...

2007-04-04T18:34:00.000-05:00

Weary, weary, weary.

Dot's like, I know work has got really busy but that's no reason I shouldn't wake you up three times a night just to check you're still there.

Plus I feel like all I've done this week is work, cook and wash up. Yes, I know this is my lot as a working mother and that compared to most I'm terribly lucky, but last night I had a small tantrum on the hubby. "I just want a dishwasher," I whinged, "I don't care how environmentally unfriendly they are." I think I even stamped my feet. "Leave it. I'll do the washing up in the morning then," he offered. But I've been at home with a baby and I know it isn't that easy to do the washing up so I did it anyway.

When I got home this evening I decided I simply couldn't face cooking another thing - or more accurately, I couldn't face another day where all I do once I've put Dot to bed is cook, puree, freeze, wash up and crash out. Trouble is, the hubby decided the same thing - or at least decided he was at least as hard done by as me and as such, shouldn't be expected to cook either. "We could get take out," he said on the phone from the pub, his voice suggesting he knew exactly how well that suggestion would go down. "No," I said in a tone which brooked no dissent, for I have completely outlawed take out. "Alright, I'll get you some pasta from the shop on the way home," he sighed.

So I'll admit it - being green is sometimes hard work. My hands are dry and itchy, my back aches, last night we ate a disaster that didn't pass for mashed potato and I haven't exercised, read the news, spoken to a friend or relaxed in, oh I don't know, a while.

But at least I don't have any unrecyclable take out containers on my conscience. And only one more day till the weekend.

2007-04-02T20:31:00.000-05:00

Funnies

Just spent another evening obsessively making food for Dot - this time organic brown rice porridge and organic sweet potato laced with tofu. The stupid part being that I know she'll refuse to eat any of it and wait for dinnertime and yoghurt to roll around. Doesn't stop me trying, though.

So, very quick tonight. Just thought I'd post this cartoon I found on Treehugger. The Union of Concerned Scientists is launching their second annual search for the funniest cartoon about political interference in science. My personal favourite from last year:

2007-04-01T20:04:00.000-05:00

Are you suffering the Whole Foods effect?

So I've been dying to tell you about my trip to the Food Co-Op the other night. Members can take a guest (guests can't shop though) so Sarah very kindly took me along. It was all it promised to be and more. I can't even begin to go into the details but it is a green geek's paradise, more or less. Silos heaving with grains, nuts and pulses, shelves bowing under the weight of every conceivable herb and spice, organic, locally reared meats aplenty and an array of organic fruit and veg to match any farmers market. I could have spent hours wandering the aisles fondly caressing the produce but it was 9.30 on a school night so we kept it brief.

About halfway round we came to the beauty aisle. I'm in the market for new shampoo and conditioner but every eco-friendly variety I've tried seems to turn my hair to straw. I mentioned this to Sarah and we soon found ourselves in conversation with another member who recommended the Nature's Gate shampoo. We thanked her and bent to check it out. "Hm, contains parabens," said Sarah. This was no good since, per Ideal Bite, parabens are hormone disruptors, no good for mummies and babies. Since I couldn't buy anyway this was no problem, but I use a Nature's Gate body lotion so spent the rest of the shop worrying about whether, unbeknownst to me, the unscented, petroleum-free lotion I'd got when Dot was born contained parabens I'd been unwittingly transmitting to her via breastmilk all along. I figured I'd check when I got home.

When you're done you have to check out twice. You'll recall it's staffed by members. As such, our first cashier was a woman with dreadlocks down to her butt; the second a middle-aged man in a business suit and wide-striped silk tie. You pile your groceries into (reused) cardboard boxes on a big metal trolley and a member in a luminous orange waistcoat walks you home, waits while you unpack, then takes the trolley (and I suppose the boxes) back to the store. It was totally great. It will be lethal once we've joined. I'm hoping to do it Monday or Wednesday night this week.

As soon as I got home, I checked the body lotion (I figure I don't have enough on my plate these days so I better obsess over body lotion). And sure enough, there at the bottom of the label, something-or-other paraben. Bugger. Since I'd bought it in a a hardcore health food store I thought I was in the clear with that one (I call this the Whole Foods effect. You buy something in Whole Foods so you assume it's eco-and human-friendly so don't bother to check, much as a friend of mine assumed plastic bags from Whole Foods are ok because they're recyclable. They're not ok, though, ok? Still takes petrol to make them. Anyway I digress...)

So on an Ideal Bite tip I've just ordered this new paraben-free body lotion from Max Green Alchemy. I'll let you know how it is.

Oh, and I eventually picked up some paraben-free Burt's Bees shampoo in the health food store tonight. Washed my hair with it (the new plan is to do this at night to maximise quality Dot time in the mornings) and though it had that washing-up liquid feel in the shower, the hair as of now looks surprisingly glossy. Let's see how it holds up to a hard day at the office. Night.

2007-03-31T21:45:00.000-05:00

Oh, and I forgot to mention...

Guess who got a tooth on Thursday? Clue: she's seven months old today (SEVEN MONTHS. That's not that small) and very gorgeous.....

2007-03-31T19:47:00.000-05:00

My Social Life

Want to know what a glamorous Saturday night looks like? I'll tell you.

What you'll need: kitchen equipment to include steamer, pan, blender, food mill, ice cube trays (silicone, of course) and large wine glass; lots of organic fruits and vegetables (a selection could include parsnips, purple asparagus, broccoli, plums, apples, pears and bananas); one second hand kaftan/muumuu purchased at local flea market for $5; and (critically) a bottle of wine (spend about $15 on this; you'll be needing it).

Wait until husband leaves to go upstate to collect car (yes, it broke down again. But it was their fault so they fixed it for free). Put baby to bed. Call brother on stag do (bachelor party) in NYC's most glamorous nightspot just to hammer home the bathetic contrast between your night and his. Put Coldplay or other girly band on the iPod. Pour self large glass of Sauvignon Blanc, then commence frenziedly steaming, blending, pureeing, scooping and freezing first type of organic fruit/veg; wash up; repeat; repeat; repeat...

If you've followed the instructions to the letter, by the end you'll be mildly drunk but will also have accumulated a fairly impressive collection of food cubes to be fed to your darling child by someone else while you're at work.

You see? We know how to party round here. Lindsay Lohan eat your heart out.

Mum, I don't know why you've bothered. I'd much rather just eat balloon ribbons.

Or yoghurt.

2007-03-27T21:29:00.000-05:00

Putting pits to the test

Got to be quick because I must get more sleep tonight but thought I owed you an update on the armpit exercise, you lucky people.

So, today was a rogue warm day - warm as in early summer, complete with French windows open and people dining al fresco all over Park Slope (I know this because I went to yoga tonight after Dot was in bed. Have to get some exercise in somehow, don't I). Since I was dressed for early spring (well it was bloody freezing last week), today was the perfect torture test for the baking soda.

And what I have to report is that, even after the yoga, things really weren't too much niffier than they might have been in my Mitchum days. What I found hard to deal with was the unaccustomed and persistent damp sensation which made me feel like I needed a good shower even after I've just had one and then for the rest of the day.

I'm going to see if I can make it to the end of the week. But I don't think I could do this in summer proper. I don't mind looking like a geek with my 'no plastic bags' bag, slightly worn, unfashionable clothes or my packed lunch, but I draw the line at dark underarm circles. Sooo not a good look.

2007-03-26T21:03:00.000-05:00

Equivocation

I've just worked out why I find nights in without the hubby so relaxing - it's because the bloody TV isn't blaring the whole time. I mean, in his defence he's only ever watching horizon-broadening, mind -expanding stuff like Countdown with Keith Olberman (ok, that and endless reruns of the Star Wars Trilogy lately. Will it never end?) but there's something impossible to resist about the TV, even if you aren't remotely interested in what's on. And so if he's in, like a moth to the flame I find myself collapsing, enervated, on the couch and getting nothing done.

So tonight, in his absence and with the TV turned off, I was wildly productive - or at least I straightened out the house in double-quick time - and able to think clearly. And as I washed up bottles and baby spoons while waiting for my brown rice and tofu (really) to boil, what I thought was, if I could be more *something* in this life (you know, sexy, witty, tall, thin, clever, rich, whatever) the thing I would want to be more is decisive. Or single-minded; i think they're the same thing, aren't they? Well aren't they?

Ahem. You see, I've been plagued my whole life by indecision. It's the reason I've never been sure about whether I was with the right man (till I met the hubby, natch), where to live, what colour to paint my room, whether to get a fringe (bangs) whether I was in the right job, whether I should move home and so on.

Today was a case in point.

The hubby wanted to meet friends at five at a pub just round the corner from our old apartment so we agreed to meet there for the Dot handover. As I got off the subway in the West Village a mere 15 minutes after I'd left the office and walked to the pub the way I'd walked to our apartment every weekday for three years prior to our move upstate, I thought, 'wow, I got here so quickly. If we still lived here or hereabouts, I could leave work at 5.30 and be home before six, and that 30 minutes off my commute twice a day would mean an extra hour daily with little Dot. And on my days off, the majority of my baby friends would be walking distance away. So why did we move to Brooklyn, again?' This after several weeks of congratulating myself for having made a great move to a much calmer, cleaner, greener, more family-friendly borough.

Then as I got to the pub to find said poor little Dot about to blow a gasket for no reason other than that she just needed me RIGHT NOW (I know this because within five minutes of my arrival she'd stopped squirming and squawking and the steam had stopped rising from her ears) the conviction I'd been smugly harbouring for a while now, confirmed after a very gratifying day at the office last thursday, that what my work life thus far had been leading up to was being a green planner and that actually I was quite lucky that our financial situation meant I'd had to return to work with none of the agonising choosing to do so might have brought and that my days of indecision were over, went right out of the window and I began fretting terribly about what my absence might do to her in the long term. And the idea that going back to work was much easier than I'd anticipated floundered.

Aargh. It'll all be fine in the morning because by then I will have changed my mind again. But surely life would be so much easier if I was one of those people who made up their mind and then stuck to it?

2007-03-26T09:06:00.000-05:00

Musings on a Sunday night

So we’re already headed back to the city after a lovely but all too brief weekend in Milanville. I’ll admit that as we arrived on a grey Friday afternoon and saw snow still on the ground, my heart sank a little – I’m so over winter at this point that I couldn’t bear another wintry weekend – but I needn’t have worried. Apart from a blip yesterday afternoon, the weather was gorgeous. This afternoon we had the doors and windows open and when I went for my walk, streams and creeks gushed around me, swollen by the fast-melting snow. The best bit was when I spotted several vigorous clumps of snowdrops peeking through the snow in the back garden. I took Dot over to investigate; she cheerfully shoved a handful in her mouth.

As I had to take the compost out to the compost bin this afternoon, I decided to check on its worm-readiness. To my delight, after months of happening on the same rock-solid pile of broccoli stalks, carrot peelings and lemon rinds with a bunch of nappies on top of them, the contents of the bin were now quite unrecognizable and from the smell of things were all composting nicely. As this is my first ever compost heap I became far more excited than a pile of mouldy vegetable scraps and soggy nappies probably warranted but was also a bit taken aback by the whiffiness of it all. I mean, it smelled like putrifying vegetables. I’m sure when I read the instructions it said this wouldn’t be the case. And it isn’t even remotely hot yet. I think I better do some further research pronto. I was having trouble picturing myself handling the worms as it was, but handling them and a load of really smelly mushy stuff? I hope I’m man enough for the task, as the hubby made it quite clear from the outset that the compost heap, especially the nappies bit, was my affair. I’m sure I’ll figure it out; feel free to post advice.

Speaking of smells, and inspired by a) No Impact Man (who if you live in NYC has been hard to avoid of late, which I view as a good thing) and b) accidentally leaving our deodorant in Brooklyn, I decided to give the home remedy baking-soda-as-deodorant a go today. I haven’t got my kit off yet for a proper inspection, but I don’t think I smell particularly worse than usual and the friends who came for Sunday lunch didn’t seem to notice anything untoward (either that or they’re very polite). Maybe I’ll continue the experiment this week and see how it goes. However, this is all very well in March, but I cannot imagine myself surviving a sticky Manhattan summer without my Lady Mitchum. We’ll see.

So, back to Brooklyn we go (we’re carpooling at least to minimize the gas guzzling). It has been lovely to be back upstate, if a bit weird being an outsider somewhere you’re used to being an insider, and being part-time in a house you got used to being in full-time (the desk looked sad and empty without the hubby's office paraphernalia all over it). But equally, it wasn't awful to leave. No sunday-night blues as yet.

2007-03-24T20:58:00.000-05:00

Town or Country

Hello friends, I'm sorry I've been away for so long. It's been a very busy week, Dot's still up a good three or four times a night so I'm a bit of a zombie, my parents were over and now we're up at the house so there's all that. But the truth is, this life is sudennly so different from the life it was when I started the blog that I'm not quite sure what to write about.

You know the broad strokes: then, I was at home all day with my baby in a cute but decrepit old cottage in the country; now I live in Brooklyn and commute 40 minutes four days a week to a corporate office in Manhattan. Instead of the Delaware River I've got the F train and instead of the organic farm round the corner, I've got any number of chi chi grocery stores.

The weirdest thing is that when I first got here (for we're up at the house for the weekend - aaaah (the sound of me exhaling)) I thought it was much easier being green in the city because I could buy eco-friendly loo roll/dish soap and organic fruit at the all-singing all-dancing grocery store a walk across the street. Ah, but I was inexperienced in matters green then.

Now, of course, I can see that in many ways it's the other way round. Here I can buy food from the local organic farm, much of which generates a grand total of less than five gas miles and all of it less than twenty, plus almost no packaging. I can compost our biodegradable waste, including Dot's nappies (of course thanks to Sarah I can still do all bar the nappies in town). Here I had the time to cook all our meals from scratch, hence no take-out and much less other packaging (now I barely have time to pee). Our wood stove makes for eco-friendlier heat and since it is our house, we have more control here over the electricity source, the water temperature, etc.; there someone else controls these things and something about that makes you lazy, though I'm sure I could get them fixed if I tried.

It doesn't help that I have absolutely no willpower and of course here there was less temptation. For example, when I was full time in Milanville, you would have been unlikely to find me guiltily leaving H&M with a plastic bag containing four items for me and one for Dot from the new organic cotton clothing line which, despite being made of organic cotton, is still a lot of new garments, all flown in from Turkey and a plastic bag. (The clothes are gorgeous, by the way, and at least I resisted the urge to buy any non-organic cotton things, even though lots of them were very nice. Two did make it to the changing room, though, before I got a grip).

There are also a million more packaging-y things for the hubby to buy in town and outlets for him to get plastic bags from and since I'm out at work all day, far fewer opportunities for me to call him out on it until I find three plastic bags surreptitiously stuffed in the bin (along with his tea bags and coffee grounds) and by then it's too late.

Not to mention, if we want to come to the house regularly, we'll be doing that drive a lot (but since there'll be much less mid-weel dricing, maybe it cancels out). Phew.

The other thing that is less clear cut than I expected is that I'm quite enjoying work. I miss Dot terribly while I'm there, but I like using the old grey matter and having the space and time to do it, and I can feel that old demon ambition stirring its stumps. I feel like a traitor even saying it, and when I get home and her little brain is about to malfunction in spite of her Dad's best efforts because she just needs her mum, I hate it.

But some real green progress has been made in the office this week.

The tricky thing there is that I can't really tell you about it because, well, we all know what happens to people who blog about their offices.

So bear with me while things settle down and I work out a way round it.

Till then, my green thing for today? Dot and I had local organic celery root (celeriac) for lunch. And she loved it, adventurous little soul that she is.

Oh, and the thing you've all really been waiting for:

2007-03-20T13:17:00.000-05:00

No printing

So this is my third week back at work and I just realized that so far I haven't printed a single page. Not one. Admittedly I've only been in the office a grand total of six days but still, I think it's pretty good going. If I think about all the long and involved Powerpoint decks I used to crank out by the pound I would really kick myself.

It hasn't been easy. There's something about reading page after page of complicated charts on a screen that tends to make the eyes boggle (funny how when I'm reading the results of my Google search for organic levis and loomstate jeans I don't encounter the same problem), especially after a night of the Dot-special - her 'four wake-ups combined with partying at 2am on a mummy work night' medley. I do also find I have to concentrate harder for things to sink in, and it's annoying not to be able to scribble all over the margins.

But I'm determined. And on Thursday I'm going to be speaking to the CEO about encouraging my colleagues to do the same. I thought we could introduce page quotas limiting us all to a set number of sheets a week or something, and offer a prize to the department that cuts its paper output the most in a week/month.

Yeah, and then maybe we could have a bake-off followed by sitting in a circle singing Kumbayah.

Well, I can dream.

And what do you mean I'm turning into David Brent?

2007-03-19T19:45:00.000-05:00

Diaper disagreements

Something seems to be brewing in the cloth nappy department, and I don't just mean whatever Dot's cooked up.

Basically what's been happenning since we moved in is, I use cloth, Sarah washes them, the hubby uses disposables and we have a silent agreement to mind our own business (I'd like him to be using cloth too but since he's now doing a good 50% of the childcare, I guess he gets to make some decisions too).

Until yesterday.

As I was wrangling Dot into a cloth nappy, he sidled up to me and said, "My Mum was out with [a friend who just had her third baby] who said, why make something which is already difficult even harder by using cloth nappies?"

"But it isn't hard," I replied, as I tried for the 15th time to get Dot to sit still for long enough for me to wrap the prefold tightly round her little thighs, bring the sides together with a handy little widget called a snappi, repeat this step at least eight times till I got it right, stuff her into a woolie cover, stretch her onesie over her enlarged botty and force her trousers back on. "She's the easiest baby in the world and I'm really getting the hang of this now."

He watched the performance with a raised eyebrow then left the room.

Later, as I was getting Dot ready for her bath, my Mum came into the bathroom and closed the door conspiratorially behind her.

"I probably shouldn't be telling you this," she said in a low voice, "But I overheard the hubby earlier telling his mother he's going to put his foot down soon about these cloth nappies."

Blimey. We've got the grannies and the neighbours involved now. Whatever next?

But I haven't seen much evidence of this foot-putting down.

I reckon the hubby's all mouth and no trousers.

BTW sorry for the radio silence - my parents were in town and it was all a bit much. Thanks for sticking with us.

2007-03-14T20:12:00.000-05:00

Bags, jeans, blah...

You know how when nobody's looking you think you can get away with stuff? I got to the checkout yesterday in Westerley Health, the totally fab health food superstore near the office, and realized I didn't have a bag with me, and had a bit too much stuff to carry without one. Ah well, I though, I guess it can't hurt just this once and no one at work really knows yet that I'm about to start trying to pass myself off as a paragon of greenly virtue so they won't even notice if I waltz back in with a placcy bag full of healthy snacks.

And then the old bloke in front of me finished paying, bent down and painstakingly arranged his shopping in of those backpack-on-wheels-with-a-handle, knelt on it to wiggle the zip shut and headed out.

After that of course I had to improvise. I stuffed my handbag and pockets full - anything to not be one of those wierd people I keep giving dirty looks to in health food stores because they buy organic food but take it home in plastic bags. Does this strike anyone else as inconsistent? I even got stopped by a security bloke in Wholefoods the other day because I'd stashed our shopping in the bottom of Dot's buggy, bag-free. He thought I was pinching it. Luckily I had the receipt, but you'd think he'd be used to people not using bags.

Maybe it was because of my wardrobe which after six months at home with a baby in the country is perhaps not ideally suited to life in Manhattan. Was it the jeans falling apart at the crotch or the coat streaked with salt, mud and baby sick? I will get some new jeans soon but I need to get paid first. I've been eyeing up the organic cotton Loomstate jeans in a lovely little boutique round the corner but they're the best part of $200. Needless to say I was consequently rather thrilled to learn that H&M will shortly be launching a range of organic cotton clothing including jeans. Oh bugger, because I'm typing this on the hubby's mac it won't let me do proper links (nor to post the pics of Dot I had for you patient people) so if you can be bothered, paste this into your browser:

http://www.stylewillsaveus.com/content.asp?ContentId=819

Should probably hold out for those, then. And while I'm at it I might have to get me one of those tunics, too.

Apparently Top Shop has a similar range in the works so before long we can all be both trendy AND smug.

Not that we weren't already.

2007-03-11T11:35:00.000-05:00

The Breast Solution

So we're settling in nicely to our new neighbourhood and the brownstone/commune arrangement is working out fabulously. As I type, Saint Sarah is busy washing Dot's cloth nappies in with Peggy's and adding our compost to her compost bin while I, er, I...well anyway...

My three days off work have been great but it's back to work tomorrow. I have my glass bottles sterilized and packed in the mini-cooler ready to go (there are many new frontiers to conquer as a working mum of which the least dignified is surely pumping breast milk in your office. So far I haven't had to attend any high-powered meetings with marketing directors of major Fortune 500 corporations in between sessions, but imagine the bathos of the boardroom to the breast pump when I do).

The reason they're glass bottles is because in between going back to work, moving in, battling a horrendous cold and preparing batches of pureed organic food for Dot, I've been finding the time to obsess anew over the horrors of plastic as they apply to bottlefeeding your baby and storing their food (in case you're interested, all sorts of info to be found here; this link courtesy of Sarah who is as bonkers as I am about this stuff, if not more so). The best alternative I've found so far to the ubiquitos plastic ice cube tray is these food-grade silicone ones; Sarah and I spent hours online last night and couldn't find anything to suggest silicone is bad.

Which is just as well because I also - and I say this tentatively - think I may finally have found a solution to the leaky boob problem in the form of these silicone boob pad thingies. So far so good, anyway.

Gosh you know I am so tired that I think it would be best if I stopped trying to be funny and went to bed now. We think Dot's teething because she's waking up more or less every two hours at the moment. Which means I might get an hour in now if I'm quick.

2007-03-07T21:28:00.000-05:00

Drifting

Oh my god, I am so tired. The hubby's bloody got me drunk again. Well, probably for the best and hey, only one day to go before the weekend - hurrah.

It was weird today. I was back in the same places, doing the same things (though not buying fancy coffee or soup in disposable cups), literally walking the same hallways I've been walking for the past six and a half years, all of it so familiar that I switched into autopilot to the degree that I nearly got on the ACE to the West Village instead of the Q to Brooklyn after work.

And yet it was different because there's Dot. I had that dreamlike feeling again, and spent the first two hours in my (new, bright white, almost furniture-less) office staring at the wall trying to remember what the hell it was I was supposed to be doing. This was by far the longest period of time I've had to myself in six months and in a way I was almost giddy with the freedom (anyone who tells you it's harder going to work than being home with a baby is wrong. Though I'll probably rescind that once work really kicks in).

But you know what? It was also a bit...boring. Maybe it's the blank walls, or the job, or the fact that lots of old faces have left, or simply the change, but as I walked through the door, I could feel parts of my brain that had been firing all maternity leave shut down, ones that I really need to make the green thing happen. A bit like I'd been given a frontal lobotomy on re-entry.

So very little headway made on matters green today - or indeed on any matters at all.

But give me a chance to get over the culture shock and I'll be all over it. If I can just do something about the lobotomy...

2007-03-06T21:01:00.000-05:00

Back to School

Well, this was going to be a deep and meaningful look back at the last six months, the first of Dot's life and by far the best of mine, before the world shifts on its axis tomorrow and I go back to work. I think I had something Important and Very Sentimental to say.

But the hubby seems to have got me a bit drunk on some expensive Zinfandel - probably in a bid to stave off the tears he's been dealing with at bedtime for the past few nights - and the serious stuff, whatever it was, eludes me.

In fact, he needn't have worried. As with most things, I think this going back to work business will turn out to have been far worse in the anticipation than it is in reality. Indeed, if motherhood has taught me anything it's to just bloody get on with things because not much turns out to be as hard as you thought it would be and even if it is, you soon get used to it and then it isn't so hard any more after all. So today, after weeks of hardly being able to look at Dot, let alone sing her a song or get a laugh out of her, without getting all wobbly-lipped (my friend Sally confessed she too has been being a complete drama queen about leaving Paloma, including not being able to look at holiday video clips without bawling. Sally, I'm with you) I suddenly came over all sanguine and no nonsense and decided that if I was going to be a working Mum I was going to try to a) enjoy it and b) be a damned good one.

So Dot and I had a lovely last afternoon with our neighbours in our little commune here in Brooklyn (we've spoken to our neighbours more in the past two days than in the other six years in NYC). Sarah, Peggy, Dot and I spent a jolly half hour in the local health food shop (we can't afford to join the co-op till one of us gets paid). Olive, who's 3 and lives upstairs, dropped in on the way home from school to play us a tune on the harmonica. Sarah then offered to let us add our compost to her bin and came up at 7 to collect the dirty nappies as pre-arranged. After dinner (organic sausages, mash and seasonally appropriate Swiss Chard), I set about sterilizing and packing bottles and breast pump for tomorrow, sorting out Dot's meals for the hubby, washing her toys, making my own packed lunch (didn't think I'd be doing take-out containers, did you?!), getting my school bag ready and selecting an outfit. I also had a little pep-talk with myself about going to the office and making this green thing work come hell or high water. I would even have polished my shoes had I not left the shoe polishing kit upstate.

But now I can't keep my eyes open and I know Dot'll be calling for food in a couple of hours so I'd better get my head down.

Tomorrow the next phase begins.

Wish me luck.

2007-03-05T19:59:00.000-05:00

Circa 1993...

Well this is weird. The hubby's down the pub, Dot's in bed and I'm sitting on an Ikea futon in a flat full of someone else's furniture (and our half-decostructed sofa, awaiting the services of Dr. Sofa) lit by a dodgy standard lamp, on my own. It's all very student bachelor pad. If I try really hard, I could almost imagine the last ten(ish) years were a dream.

I like the furnished apartment idea in theory (for my readers in the UK, unlike in London the majority of flats here are rented unfurnished but this one isn't) - it fits the shared ownership concept I blogged about a little while back. You know, share the love and the floral three-piece suite.

But in practice a) it's a bit weird being surrounded by other people's stuff, b) I've just remembered that furnished apartments are where bad furniture goes to die (that and landfill, so it's better than that) and c) I'm wondering if I'm not a bit too old for wobbly chairs, chipped mismatched plates, wooden desks with tubular metal legs and Ikea futons. Especially Ikea futons.

Of course, once we've got our pictures up, our recycling bins arranged and our Park Slope Co-op string bag hanging in the kitchen it'll feel just like home (and also, given that it's a Brownstone in Park Slope, quite a lot like a scene from The Squid and the Whale only Dot's a bit younger than those boys and we don't drive an old Volvo estate - though the idea's growing on me).

I wonder how all our friends in Milanville are getting on? I do miss them, the peace and the fire, but on the other hand it's been great to be able to walk everywhere today - I was out the door with Dot in the sling by 8.30 (completely unheard of for me) - and so sweet having her little mate right downstairs.

Let's see how long the urban novelty lasts. I think it'd be longer if I could be a groovy freelance something loafing around artsy Park Slope coffee shops with Dot and my apple laptop rather than heading to Manhattan every morning at 9.

2007-03-03T21:13:00.000-05:00

It's not adieu, just au revoir...

So tonight is our last night as full time residents of Milanville - at least for now. Tomorrow we move to Park Slope and become just another bunch of weekenders.

I'm blowing very hot and cold about the whole thing. Well wouldn't you be?

And of course now it's time to leave, things here in Milanville are just getting interesting (does this happen to anyone else or is it just me?). Yesterday I was invited by a lovely local couple to join the official Milanville community, which we will most definitely do (I hesitated because I was still being paranoid about whether I was persona non grata in this village but they wouldn't have asked if that were the case, now would they? Also yesterday I received a lovely, positive comment from a local reader which made me feel much better - thanks, whoever you are. Who knew I had a local fan? Terribly exciting). Another lovely chap I've been chatting to when I bump in to him out walking offered to teach me to ride his horses this summer (he somehow guessed I was scared stiff of the beasts; am I, then, so obviously wet? No, don't answer that.). And tonight Will and Grady of Narrowsburg Roasters (the coffee shop) fame took me to the premiere of a movie about local conservation heroes called Nature's Keepers (coming soon to PBS). Here we networked with other local greenies (who make me and Dot look even more like rank amateurs at this game than we already did) and found out we could volunteer with the Delaware Highlands Conservancy - orientation is on April 13th.

These events had the combined effect of offering me a vision of an alternate future in which I spend my days combing the river banks gathering rubbish while deer nuzzle my hand in gratitude, tending my vegetable patch while teaching Dot about conservation and sustainability (obviously I have to learn about it first but that's a detail), networking with other Milanvillers to Keep Milanville Beautiful and trotting about on my piebald steed.

Instead of which I'm going to be doing daily battle with a gajillion other commuters on the dirty streets of NYC in order to sell people things they don't need from the confines of a grey office cubicle while someone else looks after my precious darling girl.

And I'm doing this why, again?

If I was an optimist of course I'd tell myself I could do both. And maybe I can. Plus my masterplan is to turn all our clients green, thereby making a bigger difference than I could by just not buying styrofoam trays of veg in Pecks and haranguing my poor hubby about his light compulsion.

I'll keep you posted about how all that goes. Once I'm back at work I'll probably be posting a bit less often (after all, much as I'd love to chronicle the detailed struggles of a green activist in corporate America, I'd only end up with a lawsuit on my hands and the sack), but you never know. I've become awfully attached to the blog and can't believe people are still reading four months after I started.

And anyway, I'm not going back to work till Wednesday.

In denial, moi?

Deep breaths and we'll take things one day at a time...

2007-03-01T22:09:00.000-05:00

The hubby also pointed this out today:

U.S. ‘stuck in reverse’ on fuel economy
Only two super-efficient cars available, down from five, study shows

...CSI found that the number of vehicle models sold in the United States that achieve combined gas mileage of at least 40 miles per gallon actually has dropped from five in 2005 to just two in 2007 — the Honda Civic hybrid and the Toyota Prius hybrid.

Overseas, primarily in Europe, there are 113 vehicles for sale that get a combined 40 mpg, up from 86 in 2005...

Does this strike anyone else as totally bonkers?

2007-03-01T21:57:00.000-05:00

In a strange bit of serendipity...

Regular readers may remember a little while back a friendly commentor inviting me to "get back to the city and blow [my] wad in Barneys" (it was Jan 28th if you'd like to refer back).

Well, I don't think this is what they had in mind, but...

NEW YORK — Barneys New York is embracing green — the "green" movement, that is. Organic and eco-friendly products will be introduced across all product categories in the company's 17 stores, starting with this month's launch of casualwear collection Loomstate for Barneys Green in its 12 Co-op units. The retailer is also planning a green Christmas with store windows, advertising and holiday catalogues displaying an environment theme. While organic apparel is still a small part of the overall fashion industry — global organic cotton product sales were $583 million in 2005, according to Organic Exchange — Julie Gilhart, Barneys' fashion director, said the issue is on designers' radars. "I feel very encouraged because some of the biggest designers are thinking about this," she said. "It's not a trend. A trend is something that dies. It's a movement." "Green" and fashion have at times seemed like an oxymoron. But Barneys is determined not to make green a crunchy, granola affair and plans to make green products a permanent, and growing, part of its offering. The retailer also is trying to introduce style to a category that's traditionally had as much sex appeal as a burlap sack. "Customers have to have great fashion and great style," said Gilhart, who has been beating the green drum at Barneys. "They're not going to give that up. No way." In addition to Loomstate for Barneys Green, the specialty chain is launching two cosmetics brands, one organic and one all natural; buying nonleather shoes from Stella McCartney, and developing its own line of nonleather handbags, said Gilhart. "There will be other things coming in the store," she added. "We're going to be doing a lot for Christmas." Gilhart, who has seen dramatic runway shows and discovered young, talented designers for the store, said the green movement "is one of the most interesting things that's happened in my fashion career. It's going to change the way we look at fashion. It's definitely permeated the Barneys culture. A year ago, I was not asking [designers] where their clothes were made and what kind of compliance they adhere to. 'Compliance' was not in my vocabulary. I really thought organic was something cool and personal I did outside the workplace and never anything that could be considered in a high-fashion marketplace."

As the friend Nina who tipped me off to this said, not that you need an excuse to shop in Barneys, but...

2007-03-01T20:21:00.000-05:00

She baa-aack...

...and she's definitely got the post-holiday blues. Well, who can blame her? A little girl can get used to life in the sunshine awfully quickly. Everyone was lovely to her (not that they aren't here too, but she just saw loads more people), it was gorgeous and warm, she got to wear her birthday suit all day long, swim in the sea, and her mum even relaxed enough to stop banging on about being green all the time, which was a blessed relief for everyone.

Dot did, however, go on a bit of a sleep strike. Let's hope she gets back on track now she's safely ensconced on the fab organic cot mattress which arrived while we were away (and was waiting for us literally on our doorstep when we returned along with several other parcels, all of which were of course untouched. Imagine that happenning in NYC. Someone had very kindly plowed our driveway too. Ditto. And I'm not just putting this to mollify my constructively critical neighbours...).

Anyhoo, here's what I know some of you have been waiting so patiently for: the pics.

First up, remember I posted about her tap dancing in delight the first time her feet touched the sand? Well here's what that looked like:

Hee hee! However, she quickly got the hang of things and by day three was so comfortable submerged in the groovy pool of a boutique hotel on a chi chi island in the Bahamas that she was able to affect the studied nonchalance of an old man on blackpool beach:

She loved the Bahamian cuisine, especially the local, er, plates:

And the chance to wear a dress like an actual girl.

Oh yes, this holidaying is serious stuff...

There we go. I might post more later too.

One of the wierdest things that hapenned on this trip was that there was a bit of a role reversal. While I accepted that while on holiday a certain number of plastic bottles and air miles were inevitable and sort of went with the flow, the hubby started saying things like, "We should have kept hold of yesterday's beach towels to save on laundry" and, when ordering dinner, "Is that fish locally caught?" Must have been the sun going to his head - it'll do that quicker when you haven't got much hair to keep it off.

Let's just hope he keeps it up once we get to Brooklyn.

Anyway, I'm afraid I've now got to go now and scratch my bites. It was all going so well till the last night when I got eaten alive - I've never had so many bites in my life. Aargh.

And thanks for your patience while we had a little break. We needed it. And now we're ready to get back with the program and figure out our next green moves.

2007-02-25T11:25:00.000-05:00

One reader says:

"I don't think you've portrayed Milanville in a bad light at all! Reading back in Blighty, you paint a charming picture of upstate living. Makes me v jelous.

I remember when you first moved up there you posted how lucky you were to land in such a great community. We're thinking of a similar "out of the smoke" move ourselves."

More later, perhaps.

2007-02-24T16:25:00.000-05:00

Wow.

Over the past few days I've received some pretty unhappy comments from people who live in my hood. I'm not going to post the comments here because I don't want to further antagonize whoever sent them (anonymously). I'm a bit confused as I intended no harm whatsoever. However, for the record, I would say that somehow the blog has been taken in a spirit in which it was most definitely not intended. I love my neighbours, I love Milanville, I know I'm a bit crap (that's the point) and I know we're lucky to live here. I certainly have no quarrel with you, whoever you are, so I hope we can put this behind us. I'm truly very sorry if I've caused offense.

I tell you what, I'd make a useless celebrity. Two mean comments and I'm all aquiver. No wonder Britney shaved her hair off.

2007-02-21T20:44:00.000-05:00

Gorgeous, glamorous but not green

God I love island life. Something about stepping out of the plane onto those wobbly metal stairs, blinking in the sunshine as the propellors roar in your ears and blow your hair in your eyes, makes you feel impossibly rich and glamorous. And as you're handed down onto the boat by some friendly local, making sure to look very nonchalant like you hop on and off boats all the time, then speed off across the bay towards your gorgeous destination, you just know you're money.

And Harbour Island has to be one of the most beautiful Caribbean islands you could hope to visit. The sand is, as billed, pale pink and the sea turquoise. If you're going to pick a beach to be your first, it's not a bad one to pick, is it Dot? (I fear we may have spoiled her for life.) As we carried her down the beach at sunset she laughed out loud at the loveliness of it all (no wonder - imagine how delicous the Caribbean breeze would feel against your skin after a winter bundled up against the wilds of Pennsylvania, and imagine it's the first time you've ever felt it) and when we dangled her little feet in the water, she squealed and tap danced. I wish I could post the piccies but the hubby forgot the bloody memory card reader - bugger.

But it was really only once we got here today that it occurred to me what uneasy bedfellows island life and green living make for. Not only could we not have got here without excessive burning of fossil fuels, but neither could all the gorgeous hotel decor or yummy food (fish aside) and drink. This whole green thing does make it harder to waft around exotic locales in a kaftan feeling barefoot, dishevelled and carefree - you know too much.

On the other hand, something that makes it very easy to waft around feeling barefoot and dishevelled, if not entirely carefree, is when the airline leaves your suitcases in Nassau, especially if all your summer footwear is in said suitcases (and yes Mum, I know I should have packed a bikini in my hand luggage but I thought I'd wing it). Ah well, at least I over-budgeted on the Dot clothes and nappies front so the only thing that might become a problem is the breast pads - I decided to revert to the disposable ones for holiday as I wasn't convinced a 50mm thick disc of felted wool was the best way to accessorize a skimpy bikini top, but only brought one spare set. Let's hope the bags are delivered tomorrow as promised.

Anyway, so my point was, I really hope someone invents eco-friendly jet and boat fuel soon because a) this is a heavenly experience, b) Dot loves it and I want only to make her happy and c) after a spartan winter in Milanville, it is amazing to feel even a teeny weeny bit glamorous. We need to find more ways to make being good feel good too.

2007-02-20T21:39:00.000-05:00

Beach-ready

Ooh it has been a busy couple of days of readying ourselves for our holiday, reading up on all the terrifying things that can befall a little girl in hot places, being lent all manner of fabulous holiday gadgets, lift-sharing down to the city (I'd like to tell you this was an idealogical statement, but really our car just wasn't ready in time; surprise surprise...) and then charging about today picking up all those utterly essential last minute holiday bits, like chemical free sunscreen and organic baby food (two questions here: 1) what was I thinking introducing solids and all the new pumping, sterilizing and packing this entails a few days before embarking for a hotel room in a barefoot island paradise; and 2) how is it possible that I spent more $$ in one day in Manhattan than I had in the previous two months upstate?)

Anyway, I think we're ready now. The cases are packed, the 73 bottles are sterilized, my bikini line is spick and span and Dot is test-driving the rather snazzy Samsonite travel cot we've been lent (so far a big hit; let's see if she repeats the last few nights' performance of waking up every five minutes).

As we raced round the city today, we couldn't help but notice how FILTHY it is - with that melty black snow gunk that is just everywhere (what IS all that?). The traffic was obnoxious, the subway just grizzly and Canal Street REALLY depressed us (if you ever want to be reminded of how much useless plastic crap we produce, head to Canal Street. Wind-up plastic swimming scuba divers and bad fake hello kitty watches, anyone? A salutory lesson). Am sure the hubby found it fairly miserable, dealing with it as he was from behind a veil of serious hangover. That'll teach him.

It was also interesting to see that old habits die hard; I was halfway out of the door of Duane Reade before I noticed I'd accepted a plastic bag (since I had the No More Plastic Bags bag in the other hand I guess you could say I was sending mixed messages), I said yes to a 50ml bottle of water - my most hated water bottle form - at Bliss before going to get me bits blitzed (but I was about to die of thirst), I bought a sandwich in a plastic wrapper for lunch and scoffed loads of yummy asian food from Rice with the girls for dinner, thus generating god knows how much unrecyclable (is that a word?) packaging.

It's going to be really tough to keep on the straight and narrow once we move back here next week. But I suppose it's time for a new challenge.

Time to take littlegreendot to NYC.

But not till after we've taken her to Harbour Island.

PS I don't know how much we'll post next week because I dont know what the tech set-up is on the island. Will keep you posted if I can

PPS Wanted to tell you about this great book I've been reading - Julie & Julia, written by a blogger who decided to cook the whole of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a year then got a six-figure book deal off the back of it. It's brilliant, smart, funny etc. By this stage in the game, she had CBS and The NY Times beating a path to her door. Where are me and Dot going wrong? We want to be famous too. Only in the interests of saving the planet, you understand...

2007-02-18T19:51:00.000-05:00

Odds and Ends

The hubby went to the local pub last night for a drink with two of his mates. I say 'pub'; in fact it looks more like a crap youth club, all cavernous faux-wood vinyl walls, brightly-coloured plastic chairs, wobbly fold-up picnic tables and strip lighting, but he seems to like it, so whatever.

He got home to find me in a chipper mood. "You're awfully flirtatious," he said suspiciously. "What's up?" "I've decided not to write the blog tonight!" I replied gleefully - not because I don't love you all but because it was really nice to have Saturday night completely to myself and also because although I'd done lots of little incremental green things throughout the day, none of them seemed sufficiently groundbreaking to merit a post of their own.

As I've hit my green stride, more days seem to be like this. For example, I'd begun the morning with a homemade pampering session. I remembered my best mate Catherine telling me, back when she was a beauty editor, that the best exfoliant she knew of was sugar and olive oil, and since my gams were in serious need of a pre-holiday spruce up (after 9 months of pregnancy and six of motherhood, they aren't looking their spry-est) I retreated to the bathroom with the Filippo Berio Extra Virgin, Domino's granulated and some organic oats (to create a moisturizing soak) clutched to my chest. I ran a very shallow bath (it barely grazed my mid-bum) and hopped in. This was ambitious, and sure enough I'd barely got my hands all covered in gunk before squawks began emanating from the bedroom. I finished up as quick as I could, then propped Dot next to me as I approximated a bad homemade pedicure, which I'm sure saved water and I know saved money. Not sure it's quite Harbour Island material, though.

Later I did the composting, baked a cake and then set about trying to find eco-friendly alternatives to plastic baby spoons and sippy cups now Dot's no longer a boob-only girl. The Bowery Babes network came through for me as usual with tips on trying a wooden or ceramic baby spoon (so far I've found this spoon, which is lovely and which I will probably get) and SIGG sippy cups. This latter was dangerous because it introduced me to a site called reusablebags.com. Oh dear. I could spend a small fortune on this site. Instead I've restricted myself to a couple of cups for Dot and a larger bottle for me (to make an eco-statement when I get back to work), all made from guaranteed non-leaching materials.

So that was kind of it. I promise to try and find you some drama soon though.

"Now, where's my bottle of wine?" I asked the hubby.

"Oh. I didn't get you one," he said.

Charming. He gets to go to the pub; I stay home to put his first born to bed and what do I get in return? Nada. Not to mention what was the point of having a night off if I couldn't at least get a little bit merry?

"Maybe I'll write the blog after all..." I said. Then, when his face fell, "...or, you could make up for it by cooking the kohlrabi [which by this point had been sitting in the fridge for a week and was in danger of becoming better in the idea than the execution]. I found this Carluccio's recipe."

He agreed and got stuck in.

For the record, the organic kohlrabi from our local River Brook Farm (food miles approx 2, carbon footprint virtually zero) tasted a bit like turnip and "a lot like bamboo shoots", according to the hubby. Unfortunately he managed to serve me the bits that were rather woody, but overall the slightly oily, cuminy, terribly worthy mess was a success (more so than the mangel wurzles we bought from RBF in the autumn). I decided to stick to plan A.

Today, however, the hubby undid all his good work by going snowmobiling with a mate. Way to spew pollutants into the atmosphere for absolutely no material gain.

But his face when he got back was a picture. I suppose a boy's got to get out from under the green thumb every now and then.

2007-02-16T21:36:00.000-05:00

Rice as a metaphor for life. Or something.

Something else unexpected happenned today. Dot started eating food - real food. But the unexpected part was that we found organic baby rice (Gerber) to feed her in Pecks of Narrowsburg, of all places (if anyone doesn't know what Pecks is, search the blog using our handy search facility for background).

We'd started for Honesdale, intending to get Dot's first food in the health food store there. But for some reason all the roads between here and there had barely been ploughed, and we were in John's flatbed truck (the one that had to be hauled out of the drive yesterday) which was fishtailing all over the road in a most alarming fashion, so I made us turn back and try Pecks instead (the roads in NY state are much better tended than those in PA which I suppose explains why their taxes are ten times what we pay).

Of course I thought they wouldn't have organic baby rice, and so of course they did. I didn't really trust it because it was Gerber, not some barefoot hippy brand, but you know what? Dot loved it. REALLY loved it. She practically bit my hand off and swallowed the spoon.

So now we're into the exciting new world of solids. This makes me even more happy we'll be round the corner from the Park Slope coop - we'll be able to get her lots of lovely fresh organic vegetables and stuff.

For some reason Dot starting solids has made me terribly excited. It's part of this whole new era in our little family - moving back to the city, starting new work projects, getting greener by the day, eating bland white mush off a spoon...

We'll just all have to hold hands together and jump.

2007-02-16T21:06:00.000-05:00

Snot funny

It's funny, doing this blog. Just when you start to get a bit despondent and think you're running out of steam and subject matter, a friend phones you and says, "I've got an awful cold and I've been really good using the Seventh Generation tissues but it's like blowing your nose with a cheese grater." And you remember a conversation with another friend last week who said she'd invested in some old-school cotton hankies and had been using them, so you tell this other friend about it, and she says, "That's a good idea. I could even cut up an old sheet and use that for my nose," and you say, "Brilliant! That's what we should all do."

And then you go off into a bit of a reverie about how everything cloth or tissue-ish these days is disposable but how it definitely wasn't when you were a kid - you know, those wipes for cleaning the loo or the shower or your face which are just ridiculous and completely unneccessary (oh, and while I'm at it I saw an ad for a Swiffer Sweeper Vac last night - how completely extraneous and what a total waste of plastic...the link being they have disposable cloths on too. This is not the way the world should be going (and I don't think it will be for long. This is why I'm going back to work - to convince junior brand managers they can no longer magic up fabulous innovations like the Swiffer Vacuum, but more of that anon)).

Anyway, so I'm for vetoing all kinds of disposable cloth or tissue-ish items.

Actually the hanky could become a bit of an eco style statement, like the 'say no to plastic bags' bags we featured before. You could find some really cool-looking ones and pull them out of your cuff or pocket with a flourish at the opportune moment (as long as they're not too snotty, that is). They're super-soft on the nose, too.

Let's make the hanky this year's indispensable cold and flu accessory - man's size for optimum absorbency. Are you in?

2007-02-15T21:56:00.000-05:00

The day in pictures

Firstly, the MIL alerted us to the best milk carton ever, which her friend found at Daylesford, a terribly chi chi organic supermarket in the Cotswolds. Check it out:

It decomposes into water, CO2 and chalk. Beats a tetra-pak any day.

Secondly, some more weather:

And finally, there are very few foods I don't like. On the shortlist are liver, custard and celery.
Dot must take after her father, then.

2007-02-15T15:57:00.000-05:00

Musings on a snowy night

So we survived the snowstorm. We ended up with probably a foot or so, less than predicted but enough to mean the truck we'd been lent for the week came close to sliding off the edge of the driveway when the hubby tried to reverse it (rear wheel drive; it leapt sideways); he had to be rescued this morning by a friendly local with a 4x4 and a chain. I watched and winced as the huge beast teetered on the brink of the slope but our neighbour (who must have been in his 80s) was not so ginger. He hit the gas, burned some rubber and hauled that baby back onto the road.

In fact over the last 24 hours I've been forced to admit the utility, if not quite the neccessity, of the 4x4 truck out here in the hills. Not only can they actually be driven out of steep driveways during even a fairly major winter storm, but most of them can be fitted with a snowplough so not only they, but the rest of us too, can leave the house. But don't think I've gone soft - still no excuse for Range Rovers in SW3 or Hummers in Manhattan.

We went down to the river this afternoon to check out the snowscape. It was bloody freezing. I asked the hubby to email me the pics we took so I could post them on the blog. Here's one:

"It's going to be funny for her looking back on these pictures in 20 years time," he said as he uploaded them. "You know, she'll be living in whatever city and it'll be 89 degrees in winter and we'll say, 'That was a river and it was frozen right the way across!'"

This made me feel incredibly depressed.

Clearly, I couldn't let the moment pass. "...which is why I keep asking you to turn your bloody computer off before you go to bed every night!" I barked.

"Yes, yes, alright," he huffed. "I'm going out to take pictures of the stars."

We're both getting a bit nostalgic for our winter sojourn upcountry because all of a sudden, what with the week in the Bahamas, it's almost over. At first I missed the city desperately but I've really settled into the rythmn of country life - so much so that most days, I only leave the house to take Dot for a long walk in the woods (this is very good for the environment, and surprisingly undetrimental to my mental health - we have lots of visitors and - thank god - the internet). As I type this, I'm snuggled on the sofa in front of the log fire and outside it's completely silent. But two days after we get back from holiday we'll be moving down to the city and I just know things'll take on a life of their own and before we know it I'll be the archetypal harried working Mom, Dot'll be 5, the hubby'll be completely bald (oh wait, he already is) and all this will seem like someone else's life.

Thank god for yoga, the Park Slope co-op and a 4-day work week. Oh, and the little green project I'm hatching. Of which more later.

And lest you think we've been slacking on the greening, the hubby finally found that brick (well, actually, it's more of a rock) and put it in the cistern today. So our loo is now officially quite green.

2007-02-14T12:04:00.000-05:00

Happy Snow Day

We had been hoping to make it to NYC today for a yoga class but there's no chance we're getting out of here any time soon. It's raining ice - hallelujah!

2007-02-13T20:24:00.000-05:00

Wise after the event

You know that interview question, 'what is your biggest weakness?' Well here's mine: finding something out or getting to the right answer just a little bit too late for it to be of any use to anyone. It happens all the time (one example that springs to mind is finding out about the St Luke's natural birthing center in NYC just too late to have my baby there so I had to have here in the utterly horrendle, natural-birth-unfriendly Beth Israel hospital instead, another finding out about green renovations about a week after we finished doing this place up, but trust me this stuff happens all the time).

The latest (and admittedly fairly egregious) example begins with a confession: yesterday, we booked a holiday. Involving flying. To the Bahamas.

I have an excuse for going: Dot just LOVES being naked (let's not let this worry us till she's 15, people), and since a frigid Pennsylvania winter is not terribly conducive to sitting round in your birthday suit, I've been dying to take her somewhere where she can wriggle round starkers to her little heart's content. Our tax rebate is due next week so we thought, what the hell, we'll only have our first baby once, let's just bugger off somewhere sunny.

But what I don't have an excuse for is not booking an ethical holiday - except that in the excitement of the whole thing (and of actually having enough money to do anything at all, let alone go on a holiday, for the first time in a while), I got swept up in the moment and only came down to earth with a bump once the credit card details had been exchanged and I was reading some article or another which mentioned ethical holidays.

At which point I thought, dammit.

Out walking with Dot today I pondered how it was possible that I'd managed to forget this and yet I can remember to rifle through a bin of dirty nappies (wearing a rubber glove, of course) to pick out the wipes and to buy two lbs of worms for my wormery without any problem. Especially since flying is the eco crime sine qua non.

And the conclusion I came to? I'm just a bit simple. I know it looks like I'm an inconsistent hypocrite but really, that isn't it. I'm just a bit dumb. And I'm kicking myself. Hard.

Here are the issues with our holiday: our hotels are neither locally owned nor run (to my knowledge, at least); although one is in a nineteenth century house, the other renovated rather than a new build, neither appears to be an eco-resort (no renewable energy, no sustainable materials, although both claim to use only local food); and we are flying there.

On the plus side: I will offset our flights; the Bahamas is a much shorter flight than more eco-friendly places we could have gone, like Central and/or South America; we won;t buy any new stuff to take with us; and he Bahamas is mentioned in websites like this one as a reasonably eco-friendly place to go because the local community benefits from the tourism.

But who am I kidding? This is pure, hedonistic, planet-trashing naughtiness.

Please don't hate me. We will find a way to limit the damage once we get there, promise.

PS no post tomorrow. The hubby's valentine's pressie is actually getting to talk to me after dinner. That, and Dot. She's his catch-all pressie for the next 20 years.

2007-02-12T21:39:00.000-05:00

Refashioning

Stolen from eco worrier: I love this - a page devoted to refashioning clothes. Am going to send a pic of me and Dot and the sari, and maybe some of our other tweakings.

2007-02-12T20:51:00.000-05:00

Slinging

I'm definitely warming to the idea of worming. Today I tore up lots more scrap paper and cardboard to make the bin nice for the little fellows, even though I won't be getting them for a month or two. Well, beats sorting through Dot's nappy bin to separate the wipes from the nappies, though I will have to do this tomorrow because I've just realized the wipes I've been using (7th Generation) aren't biodegradable. Yuck. Apparently Tushies are so I'll get them next time.

Otherwise, today has been a funpacked day of tying me and Dot up in knots. Ever since she was born I've been meaning to get into the idea of babywearing, and indeed got off to a good start with a pouch-sling, but apart from the odd foray I'd kind of stalled there, even after a friend Mia made me a lovely ring sling, because it was all a bit complicated and I kept feeling as though Dot would fall out at any moment.

Well, I don't know what came over me but I decided today would be the day I got with the sling program.

Now what, I hear you ask, besides being kind of earth mother-y, does this have to do with the environment? Well, for the past few weeks, the Baby Bjorn has been getting more and more uncomfortable and every walk had begin to feel like some kind of back and shoulder torture (not that Dot's that heavy, but I do walk quite a lot). So I knew I needed to get something else or I'd be looking like quasimodo in a few weeks' time, but as you know I'm trying to avoid buying anything new unless absolutely neccessary to minimize my impact on the environment. So what to do?

I started researching different carrier types, and decided bidding for a second hand carrier on eBay was the way forward (I lost the auction). But last night I was looking at www.wearyourbaby.com when I suddenly realized I didn't need to buy a new sling, or even create the need for packaging a second-hand one for delivery - I could simply make my own. I'd had a length of cotton sari fabric lying about the place for a good eight years (I bought it in Whitechapel when my parents used to live there) for just such an occasion as this, so this morning I dug it out (amazingly it was exactly where I thought it would be) and set to with the assistance of the videos on wearyourbaby.com.

Poor Dot soon found herself being flung about on my back, over my shoulder, and finally on my front. I carried her around the house in the ring sling all day (she loved this; gave her a fabulous vantage point from which to try and grab everything I ate), then took her for a walk in the sari. As you can see she rather warmed to it and ended up having a lovely snooze while I walked (it was a bit like having a baby monkey clinging to my front and was a whole lot easier on the back than the Bjorn).

The Tibetan, a back carry I'm extremely keen to master simply because it looks so cute (check it out here), she was less sure of and frankly I'm not surprised seeing as it invovled dangling her from her hands down my back, but with the help of her Dad we got to an approximation of it sorted (note Dot's decidedly sceptical look):

Apparently I can also make baby carriers from pashminas and sarongs, both of which I have a plentiful supply of. So watch this space for pictures of poor old Dot being trussed up like a prize chicken in all manner of bits of fabric very soon. In my wildest dreams I'll be able to avoid buying a stroller this way. Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet...

2007-02-12T20:49:00.000-05:00

Dottie daydreams

No you can't have her. She's mine.

2007-02-12T20:37:00.000-05:00

Coop in the news

The MIL heard our soon-to-be local co-op in Park Slope featured on You and Yours on BBC Radio Four today. Listen on bbc.co.uk.

2007-02-11T20:42:00.000-05:00

Almost sitting up...

2007-02-11T11:36:00.000-05:00

Fun with worms

So Dot and I are halfway through building a wormery. I say 'Dot and I' because on Friday evening, the poor little love found herself bobbling around in the Baby Bjorn in the 15 degree gloaming of a Pennsylvania winter dusk while I feverishly prodded and poked a shovel at our frozen solid compost heap, first in the pursuit of worms, and then, when unsurprisingly none revealed theselves, in a bid to transfer the rock-hard broccoli stalks and lemon skins into the new compost bin and soon-to-be wormery.

Because apparently, wormeries are the way to go for composting biodegradable nappies.

In retrospect, this was relatively apparent from the reading I did earlier in the week but I think I was choosing to ignore it because a) it all sounded terribly complicated and b) I don't know about you but I don't voluntarily get myself involved with anything that looks like this:
unless I really have to.

Well, it seems I really have to.

I started by researching the materials I'd be needing: a bin, some bedding - shredded newspaper, leaves, etc., 'food' - the compost, and about two lbs of your best redworms for the amount of waste we produce.

Warming to my subject, I was keen to get going immediately - I wanted to watch the nappies disappearing - and headed off to the local fishing (and gun) shop to enquire about the availability of redworms. The nice man behind the counter (who had a gun stuffed into his waistband) grabbed a polystyrene tray from the fridge, delved into it and withdrew his hand to reveal a fistful of squirmy red wrigglers which he proceeded to thrust under my nose.

"Er, they look just the job," I said, trying to look like someone who buys worms all the time, "I'll take two pounds."

"Ooh, you'll have to order that many," he said. "What do you want them for, anyway?"

I told him about my plans for a wormery. He suggested I wait a bit to avoid the worms freezing to death. And when I was ready, they'd set me back about $40. $40 for a few worms? Crikee.

I wasn't too sad to leave empty-handed, and headed home to check my facts. According to this website, your worms do indeed need temperatures ranging between 40 - 80 F. In cold climes such as ours, it suggested setting up in your basement, but the hubby vetoed stashing Dot's dirty nappies in the basement because he says they smell like a Dog's fart, and since I want the worms as far away from my person as possible, I didn't push the point. (What? If the chipmunks can climb stairs, who's to say the worms couldn't?) . (Oh, and $40 seems to be the going rate for 2lbs. You could find your own by digging around an exisiting compost heap (or local farmer's dung pile if you're game - which I'm not), hence my frantic prodding with Dot on board, but our sensible worms were wintering elsewhere.)

So we'll have to wait to really get going, but I decided to prepare the wormery for its future residents anyway, mainly because where else am I going to stash two months' worth of nappies?

I shredded a whole lot of newspaper I found in the log box (I'd like to point out this was old; I haven't bought a paper in months) while Dot looked on in interest. Then we bundled up, headed out, dropped the paper in the box, added some leaves and soil and finally all the compost we could and a bag of nappies. We kept it to one side; the plan is to bed the worms in on the other, then gradually move their food over so as not to overwhelm them all at once.

On the webcam today the MIL expressed skepticism about the wormery scheme.

"How will you keep the flies away?" she said.

Hm, valid point. The websites say to bury the waste and cover the bin so I will, but we'll see how it goes.

"Heh heh, good luck with clearing all that up when it doesn't work," said the hubby smugly.

You see what I'm up against here? I will learn to love my worms, and we'll show him...

2007-02-08T20:18:00.000-05:00

Nappy nightmares

Ever tried to get a straight answer about how to compost so-called biodegradable nappies? Thought not.

Well I have, and let me tell you that after several hours of research (and not for the first time) I'm still far from clear.

It ought to be easy. You buy biodegradable nappies thinking you can either chuck 'em in the rubbish, or even better chuck 'em in the compost, and all will be well.

But by the time I came to buy biodegradable nappies, I'd already read that the conditions in landfill are wrong for decomposition to happen (not enough light or air) so buying them and putting them in your regular household rubbish is a complete and utter red herring (I'm talking strictly about reducing output here. Of course there are significant benefits to the planet, as many are produced without the use of chlorine bleach, and to the baby, because they avoid coming into contact with many of the nasty chemicals in conventional nappies, but still...).

So I figured I'd compost them, seeing as my buying them coincided with my moving up here where I've got a garden and a compost heap.

I emailed the manufacturers, Nature Baby, to check whether I needed any kind of fancy composting system. I've lost the reply now, I'm afraid, but basically it said that due to some of the nasty bacteria in human fecal matter (eeeugh), although the nappies are technically compostable, you can't compost them. Well that makes sense. Not.

So I sort of wimped out for a bit and used them, trying to forget the 'wrong conditions for decomposing' thing. But it;s been quietly eating away at me ever since, so this week I decided anough was enough and as soon as we had a car at our disposal - today - sent the hubby to get our subsidized PA compost bin (it's huge and looks like a tardis) to put them in. I figured that as long as we composted them separately and didn't use the compost on our future vegetable patch, all would be well. We'd just have the nappy corner of the garden where nobody goes but me and my bag of dirties.

While the hubby was getting the tardis set up, I thought I'd look into it one more time. Well, several hours later, I'm none the wiser. Some sites say a wormery is the answer; others that the nappies kill the worms. Some say you can compost them and they'll decompose in 6 months or less under the right conditions, but fail to explain what those conditions are. Other sites say you have to pull the nappies apart before composting but don't tell you whether you then chuck everything in, or only chuck certain bits and not others.

Frankly it's making my head spin and I promised the hubby I'd play Scrabble with him tonight instead of sitting in front of the computer till way past bedtime so I can't spend a lot onger looking into it.

I'm tempted to just start sticking the dirty nappies in the tardis and see what happens (though to be fair, I doubt much will until the temperature breaks freezing which it hasn't done for several weeks now). But on the other hand I do NOT want to find myself getting rid of non-decomposed, six-month-old dirty nappies a few months down the line. The hubby already made it clear this was strictly my preserve.

Help!

I am going to try and get this sorted because for god's sake somebody needs to. Right now there are parents everywhere doing exactly what I was doing: buying eco-friendly nappies to assuage their consciences, then conveniently sweeping under the carpet the nagging doubt that they were really making no more difference than their fellow Pampers and Huggies users, which, in fact, they weren't.

I pledge to make some enquiries tomorrow and see what gives.

In the meantime, if you know the answer, please do tell.

Apparently the average disposable takes about 500 years to break down and is the third most common item found in landfill followed by paper products and food containers. This can't go on.

2007-02-07T20:44:00.000-05:00

Now some actual green stuff

As I wandered down to the village store today to get some onions for my chickpea soup, I bumped into Alice of our local organic River Brook farm and told her how much we were missing her delicious food since she closed for the winter.

Fabuous news: she's open on the quiet for the loyal few on Saturdays selling all the usual local organic meat, dairy and soup as well as her own root vegetables - carrots, spuds, kohlrabi, etc. (I said that like I buy kohlrabi all the time but in fact I've never bought or cooked with it before in my life. So I googled 'kohlrabi recipes' and found some very appetizing options including this one for stuffed Kohlrabi, this one for Greek-style Kohlrabi and this for roasted Kohlrabi and butternut squash, if I can find squash in January, we'll see.)

So we'll go on Saturday and stock up.

What a relief - not only will there be no more despondent rifling through the meat and produce sections of Wal Mart and unappetizing meals full of hidden pesticides, but I'll actually get to live my 'shop and eat local' dream again.

It does seem completely ridiculous that when we live in the middle of loads of farms and round the corner from what is surely one of the best small-scale organic farms in the country, we've been ferrying in food parcels from New York. I suppose this is where we should take action and plant our own, but have you been in our back garden lately? I refer you to fig 1: the picture of the river from earlier. Trust me, you wouldn't be gardening in those conditions either.

Neil, Alice's husband, offered to help me learn to grow my own if I wanted. "We find that once we've shown people how to do it, they never complain about our prices again," he said. Especially not when it's 0 degrees F out there. That's F for frostbitten fingers.

2007-02-07T20:43:00.000-05:00

More Dotpix

See, happy as Larry, showing off the lovely moccasins Auntie Nina got her and her TSE cashmere cardi from Tara (this child is so much better dressed than me).

I also thought you might like to see the river. This is the river we swim in in the summer. What you don't really get from the picture is the contours; the water has frozen in huge ice-flo-like chunks half a foot thick. This has happenned in just the last few days. If only those poor threatened polar bears could find their way to Milanville PA. Actually, come to think of it, the prospect of confronting a brown bear is quite scary enough for me and Dot. Forget that last bit.

2007-02-07T20:37:00.000-05:00

Sleeping beauty

I've been finding it quite hard to keep my eye on the ball with the greening lately because of trying to get Dot to learn to sleep without the boob. I don't know if you've been through this but suffice it to say I got a glimpse yesterday of what postnatal depression might be like. At certain points during the course of the day, banging my head against the wall or similar seemed like an entirely rational thing to do, so wracked was I with guilt about letting my beautiful happy charming little girlywig cry. In the end, instead of the banging, I called a sleep consultant for reassurance. I knew what I was doing - I was basically paying someone to assuage my guilt by telling me I was doing the right thing (I also thought it was a good idea to involve a third party so I didn't end up blaming the hubby for this too). A bit like a management consultant or a psychic, all she really did was tell me what I already knew but made it sound good and hey, I felt better afterwards so it had to be worth it.

Today something like peace and harmony was restored to our little house. Dot was on dazzling form, we had an excellent baby yoga
session and as you can see, she got some zs.

2007-02-06T22:10:00.000-05:00

The bubba

Sorry there's been no Dot lately. She's back, sporting an organic hat at a janty angle, organic dungarees and grandma-knitted scarf and socks in one pic, and the Patagonia smurf suit in the second. Not bad really, is she?

2007-02-06T21:52:00.000-05:00

Everybody needs good neighbours

It isn't always a good idea hanging all your dirty washing out to dry on a blog. For example, I could have kept my mouth shut about the diesel thing but of course I didn't. The mother in law called earlier.

"So what are you going to do about that diesel thing?" she said.

"I don't know," replied the hubby, looking at me accusingly again (this argument had sort of been dropped until then). "Ask the wife."

I suggested we cross that bridge if we ever get the car back.

In the meantime, speaking of dirty laundry, Sarah - who we'll be living upstairs from very soon - emailed today to say that as she knows I'm keen to try cloth nappies again but put off because I don't have my own washing machine, she'd be prepared to throw our dipes in with Peg's at the end of every day. Now that's what you call a friend.

She's also going to let us add our scraps to her compost tumbler in the back garden once we're installed.

I know this might read like a one-way street with us getting rid of all our crap - quite literally - and Sarah getting nothing in return, but she does get rid of the guilt for running a washing machine half-full, she gets some extra lovely compost to put on her putative future tomatoes and she gets to polish her eco halo into the bargain. Which, er, almost makes up for dealing with our nappies.

I love this not only because I want to compost and do cloth nappies and she's making it possible, but also because it plays into the joint ownership ideal we discussed yesterday, pooling resources for lower environmental impact. Well, not quite, because Sarah still owns the washing machine and the garden, but still. It's all terribly exciting. What with the compost, the nappies and the Park Slope co-op, we'll soon be turning # 108 7th street into a veritable hippy commune.

Perhaps we Delaney Lethbridges will pay no rent and squat for maximum effect.

Hm, that might not go down so well with Sarah...

And on a final neighbours note I do have to mention how lovely our neighbours up here have been taking us shopping, stopping by and even taking us to buy a bottle of wine this evening (god bless you Kel). Gives you back some faith in human nature. Kelly, Cathy, John, thank you.

2007-02-05T21:06:00.000-05:00

Rock and a hard place

This no car thing had been going really quite well thanks to a couple of sets of friends nearby who've been kind enough to let us use their cars when they weren't. In fact, there was something about the model of shared car ownership it implied that rather appealed to my idealistic green side - I could envisage a future in which this is the way we all do things to save on resources. Sort of peace, love and communal vehicles.

Plus, it was fine when the weather was only rather chilly - I could bundle Dot up, take her for walks and get lost in reveries of simpler times before we had cars while basking in the glow of our dramatically reduced carbon footprint.

But then it got properly, bitingly cold. Taking Dot for a walk today wasn't an option. But babies, like adults, get cabin fever too and by about four o'clock I'd gone through my complete dog and pony repertoire twice, and she knew it and she was wasn't being fobbed off any longer. This is the point in the day where I usually strap her into the Bjorn and strike forth, but today all I could do was stick Madonna on the iPod and jig around the kitchen like a loony. It did the trick, but I think tomorrow I'll need to find a way to get us out of the house, car or no car - for both our sakes.

Then something happened to give me mixed feelings about getting our own car back. Someone posted a comment letting me know that diesel fumes are supposed to be particularly bad for infants' lungs; to be precise, the comment read:

"so recent studies show that desiel fumes possibly damage infants developing lungs- so what's it to be childrens lungs or the planet?"

I googled it and found any number of links to articles about school buses giving kids asthma, diesel being a carcinogen, etc. Oh no! Oh god! Why didn't these posts come up when I was looking into the relative eco merits of different vehicle options? Probably because my google criteria were too narrow, but what have I DONE?! Poor little Dot!

The hubby wasn't amused either.

"I thought you'd researched diesel cars. Did you know about this?" he said in a slightly accusing tone.

"I thought I had done my research but of course I didn't know about this," I said plaintively.

"So now you don't want the diesel car after all?" he said.

"Oh god, I don't know, we'll just have to keep her out of the way of any possible fumes," I said, wishing google would yield some contrary evidence. It didn't.

And here in a nutshell is one of the biggest problems of this being green business. I mean, talk about ignorance is bliss. Either you find out about all these problems you had no idea existed, or every time you think you've got it sorted, you realize all you've done is open a can of worms: I also received two comments today about lavender oil causing young boys to grow breasts; then there's the 'organic food has often been flown from Mexico' issue, the 'Wal Mart getting in on organic will just dilute what organic means' debate and the 'it uses so much energy to transport the recycling waste that any benefits of recycling are cancelled out' argument. It makes me wonder if I'm doing any good at all.

"Well that'll teach you to be so dogmatic," said the hubby, or words to that effect anyway.

I'm pretty sure he wanted to say 'I hate to say I told you so', but since I was clearly sufficiently depressed already, instead he said 'I think you should have an early night dear.'

For once I'm going to take his advice.

2007-02-04T22:21:00.000-05:00

What a wuss (and no, it's not the hubby this time)

I'm a bit annoyed with myself this evening because I didn't stop the hubby using the not-neccessarily-high-but-not-exactly-low-either-VOC paint. Now that toxic stuff is up on the walls it isn't coming off again any time soon, except in the form of household dust.

While I didn't wield a paintbrush myself, barring some initial ranting and subsequent passive-aggressive asides, I didn't actively intervene either, and that makes me an accessory to an eco crime.

It does look lovely, but Dottie will now be surrounded by chemicals, the effects of which are unknown, forever. That's bad.

But it isn't just Dot. Truth be told, because I'm completely sad, I get really excited about the opportunity to do something green, like use low-VOC paint. In fact I've been dying to use some ever since I found out about it early on in this blog (go on, say it, I need to get out more) and this is the first decorating we've done since. So I'm gutted I missed my big chance to do the right thing, (not to mention the pleasure I could have got every time I showed off our lovely cottage; "yes, and the walls are all painted with low-VOC paint, you know").

But that isn't all. What's really bugging me is I caved in too easily. This quote seems to keep cropping up of late (I hate it when people use quotes, but whatever):

"Never underestimate the power of a few committed individuals to change the
world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." Margaret Mead

Letting the hubby slap toxins all over our walls is not the act of a committed individual. It's the non-act of a bit of a half-hearted wuss.

This kind of thing will only keep happenning unless I take an even harder line. And when I go back to work (it's gonna happen, readers) this kind of rolling over just won't cut it.

Nope, it's time to get tough.

Expect to see some changes around here.

Grrrrr.

P.S. the big chill has hit and the river's almost frozen. It's 'real feel' -20F out there now (that's -29C to those of you in the UK). From where I'm sitting in front of the toasty stove I can hear the wind howling. That should toughen me up pretty quick. Grrrr and brrrrrr.

2007-02-02T16:51:00.002-05:00

Hopeless Hubbys

The really annoying thing about husbands (alright, one of the really annoying things) is that they don't do what they're told. I mean asked.

We're having the house reappraised on Monday so the hubby decided to do a few paint touch ups in the kitchen and landing to make the place look as expensive as possible. As he headed out to Home Depot I reminded him to get low VOC paint - for the good of both the environment and Dottie's little lungs. "Yes, yes alright," he said and set off.

When he got back I couldn't help but notice that for the landing, he had the exact same paint we'd used last time, before I got all into this stuff (Behr) - apparently the woman in Home Depot had told him it was 'the lowest VOC we have' which didn't sound terribly promising to me.

Then, as he started painting the kitchen, I caught sight of a tin saying 'America's finest'. Well, after all this week's news, excuse me for suspecting anything called that is far from eco-friendly.

Sure enough a familiar smell reached my nostrils.

"Of course it smells, it's paint, you wierdo," he said.

"Yes but the whole point of low VOC paint is that it doesn't smell," I replied.

I stormed into the sitting room with Dot and fell into a funk. I felt like yet again Dot's Dad was trying to ambush our efforts. It wasn't all his fault; he got me at a particularly bad moment: I'd just read the news of the IPCC report - that global warming is an unequivocal fact which it’s more 90% certain is the result of human activities, and that we're now too late to avert the cataclysmic repercussions of our rising temperatures and sea levels which will take place over the next century - i.e. in little Dot's lifetime.

In the face of this news, the thought that ANYONE, least of all the father of my precious baby, would not be doing everything in their power to ameliorate the situation, was a bit more than I could handle.

I decided to take us out for a walk to let off steam. As we set off, the first flakes of snow started to fall. By the halfway point it was coming down thick and fast, and by the time we reached the river, our neighbourhood was a winter wonderland. We stood on the bridge watching the snow fall, listening to the silence. As I pondered that, though the river was beginning to freeze, it was nowhere near as frozen as last year, I sudennly noticed, in a tree to my right, the unmistakable outline of two bald eagles. As we stood there, a third joined them and they had a chat.

Something about the snow finally coming and the three members of an endangered species popping up like that cheered me up a bit. I got home in a slightly better mood.

Anyway, I think this is the paint the hubby bought. Doesn't look very low VOC to me, but what can you do? At least he got some organic milk and broccoli in Wal Mart while he was at it.

2007-02-01T22:26:00.000-05:00

It's the Dot Spot

Yeah, thanks for letting that lady stick all those needles in my leg Mum. I feel really great after that. I hope you feel guilty. (I do, Dottie, I do)

I know my Nike's aren't eco-friendly, but my babygrow is. (Note also bags hanging on the door handle ready for the next shopping spree. That'll be once we get a car back, then).

2007-02-01T21:21:00.000-05:00

Pretty Ugly

You'll be pleased to know that in the course of the day's greening I've found yet more stuff to worry about.

Today's topic is beauty products.

I have nightmare skin. My face is sensitive but quite greasy and prone to zits (at 33. I ask you...); meanwhile my body is very dry, flaky and rashy, especially at this time of year. I've spent much of my life using prescription skincare of one sort or another - spot creams that make your face red, itchy and very sensitive to sunlight, and thick, goopy body lotions that ex-boyfriends have told me make me smell like wee (do you fancy me yet? I thought so).

Anyway, I never really gave all of this much thought until I got pregnant and my dermatologist told me to stop using the salicylic acid and Tri-luma, and my hippie yoga guru books (Gurmukh and Gowri Motha) told me to ditch the products containing petroleum derivatives (I'd never really notice they were in there) and parabens. I did all of the above, switching to health food store products, not really knowing why, other than I didn't really like the idea of putting petroleum products on my skin, someone recently told me lotions were only made out of petroleum derivatives for the convenience of the oil industry (which we all know is a Bad Thing) and because I always do everything it says to do in those hippy guru books because I'm a sheep.

Anyway, so this morning as I was applying my completely delicious new Avalon Organics Lavender Ultimate Moisture Cream to my face and my Nature's Gate Skin Therapy Colloidal Oatmeal Lotion to the rest of me I was thinking to myself I must tell you that after several rounds of experimenting with really crap natural products, I'd finally found some that, as well as using organic ingredients, being packaged in recyclable materials and not helping Mr. Bush and his oil buddies out, were lovely to use and really effective. No more scaly wee-scented skin for me - just refreshing, light, whippy face cream and rich, soothing body lotion. Yum.

And I thought that while I was at it, I might as well Google 'reasons to use organic skincare products' for your edification and mine.

Well, talk about a Pandora's Box. This goes a bit beyond just being eco-friendly because it turns out there's thought to be a massive link between skincare products and breast cancer. Apparently breast cancer rates have gone up 80% in the last 30 years or so, about 60% of skincare products are absorbed into the bloodstream through the skin (the body's largest organ) and are found in large concentrations in the bloodstream (parabens found in high concentrations in cancerous breast tissue, for example) and the vast majority of ingredients in skincare products aren't approved by the FDA or indeed anyone else. And apparently there are ingredients which, while entirely legal in the US, are banned in Europe because they're thought to be so dangerous. Not only this but because Parabens have a link to oestrogen (I think I wrote about this in the deo entry) they are also thought to be responsible for the early onset of puberty in some, possiby most, young girls these days (see this site, and this one).

Oh.

Then I found this website where you can enter your beauty product and brand, and it'll spit out a safety rating based on the known danger of ingredients in a product, where one is safest, five is most concerning.

So you can guess what I've been doing for the last three hours.

I just discovered their 'highest concern brands' list. This was designed expressly for hysterical women like me. Up there near right the top with scores of 4.7: Marvis toothpaste, which I used throughout my pregnancy and Jo Malone products, which I use and have bought for most of my female relatives and friends at one time or another (though to be fair it's the red roses fragrance they flag, which is not really my thing), plus the Kerastase shampoo I'm still working through gets a 3.something ('moderate concern'). Oh dear.

Luckily the Nature's gate lotion is only a 2 and the face cream is just 1.3. Oh, and all Tom's of Maine stuff is 1 or less.

I'm warning you, once you start trying this out, it's pretty addictive. But I guess I'd rather know. Or would I?

Ahem, anyway, that's a bit off the green topic. I'm sure tomorrow I'll have another comment from Anonymous telling me I need to 'BREATH' (sic). For now I'm off to get my now much less polluted beauty sleep. If I can sleep, that is, for worrying.

2007-01-31T21:32:00.000-05:00

Quick one

Keeping it brief today - a long day down to the city and back in a borrowed car (petrol. I feel dirty) to get poor Dot stuck with about 73 needles. She was a trooper as ever but decided no paparazzi today.

And I'm trying to sort out my future. I'd love to sit at home blogging with Dot forever but I only earn on average $1.42 per day from it and even in the country that ain't enough to eke out a living. So I'm trying to take our greening to a bigger stage. Watch this space.

I'm also depressed because it turns out the car needs a new engine and of course a diesel engine is twice the price of a petrol one. I call that discrimination against the color of your environmentalisms. Still, think of all the carbon savings while we wait for it to be ordered and then installed. Will almost cover us for our next flight home.

By the way, someone sent me the press release for this book today.

I reckon our littlegreeendot entries would be like this only better. What do you think readers? Do you know any agents who might like us? Answers on an e-card, please...

2007-01-30T21:51:00.000-05:00

Carfree, carefree

I've found a great way to get the hubby to stop driving everywhere every five minutes on spurious errands which could be consolidated to save fuel: get the car engine to blow up so you're stranded in your country cottage in a snowstorm and 20 degree temperatures.

Brilliant, eh? He hasn't driven anywhere all day.

He did, however, cycle to Narrowsburg and back on his BMX in said 20 degree temperatures to pay a check into the bank and collect the mandatory bottle of red (interesting the one he picked is eco-friendly, non-GMO and biodiesel-fueled - fantastic stuff) . That's an 18 mile round trip through the foothills of the Catskill mountains on a bike with no gears. Impressive.

And yesterday, when it was 'real feel' -8 degrees F and the car blew up stranding him halfway between here and Narrowsburg with no coat and no gloves, he actually jogged the five or so miles home (he apologized for having to jettison my cappuccino along the way - his hands were too cold to hold it).

Who knew he was even capable of such athleticism? Though I have a feeling that come tomorrow, he won't even be able to walk.

But he'll have to because we're taking Dot baby sledging (it's beautiful out there now, a veritable winter wonderland).

By the way, further to yesterday's post about eco-sexuals, the hubby stormed into the bathroom this morning. "If I'd known then what I know now you woldn;t have been in with much of a chance, either," he said with a flounce. Fair enough, I suppose, but I know he doesn't really mean it.

2007-01-30T20:56:00.000-05:00

A round-up of interesting stuff I came across today

The Bush administration is being investigated for pressuring scientists to cover up evidence of global warming.

Glaciers are melting faster than ever

It's definitive: global warming is now cool, if you see what I mean. Especially if you get a bunch of pop stars together to release a record the lyrics of which are from a never-before-seen poem Jim Morisson wrote in a nostradamus-esque forshadowing of what's going on right now, man. A bit more info on this here. These guys' efforts make ours look pretty tame.

Oh yeah, and I only just noticed this: Bush wants scientists to develop giant mirrors to bounce the sun's rays back into space and release dust into the atmosphere to block them out. Because then, like we could just all carry on doing exactly what we're doing now, only under a cloud of black smoke, and everything will be fine, yo.

Excuse me. I think I might just have to go and break something.

2007-01-30T11:12:00.000-05:00

The postman always delivers two parcels

We just had a very exciting visit from the postie - two parcels each with varying shades of green pressies for Dot inside.

First, this lovely Topshop babygro from Auntie Alice:

It's fairtrade cotton and very apt all round. I love that Topshop is at least sticking it's toe in the green water; if anyone can influence the high street and Britain's yoot it's good ole To Sho.

Secondly a gorgeous new sleeping bag from Grandma Jilly - thicker than the other one now winter is finally upon us, all homemade and Mum says to give it back when she's grown out of it so the wool can be unwound and used to knit something else. Good, eh?

2007-01-30T09:21:00.000-05:00

You have got to be kidding me...

According to a 46 country AC Neilsen study, 13% of Americans said they had never heard or read anything about global warming

13%? Who are these people? Where have they spent the last 5 or 10 years?

And of 46 countries, America was the least concerned about global warming.

The US releases 25 % of the world's greenhouse gases.

Is it possible these pieces of information are related?

2007-01-29T21:28:00.000-05:00

Pics as promised

Didn't get to take any today - struggling with trying to get Dot to get herself to sleep - those fo you who've tried similar will know it's not fun - so a couple from the organic cafe last weekend - Dot demonstrates her creamy complexion, a very silly hat and her spoon-picking-up trick (and I look daft). Ta-da!

2007-01-29T20:33:00.000-05:00

Are you an ecosexual?

Our trendspotting friend Richard shared this article with us about an emerging new social group - ecosexuals. Ecosexuals are people who judge potential dates according to the greeness of anything from their eating habits to their deodorant and are likely to dump them when they realize their date shops at Safeway not Wholefoods.

I reckon I'm a definite ecosexual but the hubby I'd call more of an ecanderthal. It's lucky for him he met me before this green thing had really taken hold; if I'd known then what I know now (both about green stuff and his relative eco-unfriendliness) he'd never have got past first base.

Speaking of judging people according to their deodorant, I decided last week it was about time to eschew the Mitchum in favor of something a little more eco-friendly. I was hesitant for three reasons: firstly because on the sweat/perspire/gently glow continuum I rank closer to the horse end; secondly because I've heard they're a bit crap and they're deodorants not anti-perspirants (not a big fan of wet patches, me); and thirdly because one of the less-well publicized side-effects of becoming a mummy is that your pheromones ramp up so the baby can easily sniff you in a crowd, an inconvenient side-effect of which is that the rest of the crowd can easily sniff you too (I wake up every morning ponging like an old tramp which at least gives me a big incentive to jump into the freezing 3-minute shower). But, you know, in for a penny, so I bought myself a stick of Tom's of Maine long-lasting calendula deodorant last week and have been trying it out ever since.

It was actually going quite well. The Tom's smells really nice and to be honest it did as good a job as the Mitchum had been, so although by the morning I'm still a bit less than daisy-fresh, at least I'm not slathering chemicals all over an area it just occurred to me is a bit scarily close to the boobs Dot's drinking from several times a day.

Then yesterday, out of the blue, about 30 seconds after I'd applied it, my armpits started really stinging. In fact, it was more like burning. It died down, but then I reapplied after a shower last night (I'd been doing yoga with Dot) and I could barely sleep for the burning. Same again this morning, so bad I ended up washing it off and going barepit today - ouch! So I guess I'm going to have to swear off it.

Of course, just to torture myself, now I can no longer use it, I decided to look into whether conventional deodorants are in fact at all dangerous; I had a feeling I'd read they were linked to breast cancer and sure enough when I Googled it, that was the case. The evidence is far from conclusive - one study found a link, another did not, read about it here - and the link was found between Parabens (chemicals thought to cause an increase in oestrogen all sorts of probs that go with that) and breast cancer cells grown in test tubes rather than people, but really, is it worth the risk? I think not.

Guess I'll have to see if Tom's has a sensitive skin variant and try again, then.

I also found this recipe for homemade deodorant on a UK website:

Herb Deodorant

Grind: ½ tsp
cloves
1 tsp myrrh
1 TBS coriander seeds
1 tsp cassia
2 TBS lavender
flowers
1 tsp thyme with a pestle and mortar. Use under arms as a deodorant. Some skins are sensitive to dried herbs so test a little first.

Er, anyone know where I can get me some myrrh?

PS there's some prob uploading pics today - will try again in a sec. Sorry to disappoint!

2007-01-28T22:17:00.000-05:00

Anonymous please stand up

As we've mentioned before, we really love getting your comments. But we much prefer it when we know who they're from. Today we received the following comment from an anonymous reader (in full):

"Hello, I have to say I agree with so much of what you say. HOWEVER, you are very extreme and I think that you need to come down to reality QUITE A BIT. Please don't disregard what I am saying, everyhting here is helpfull but if you are going to be green you need to be balanced which It seems you are not. CALM DOWN and BREATH.... A-lot of your suggestions don't seem to work out. you need to be a bit more realistic and live life not being consumed by your eco-paranoia. Why don't you spend some time donating money to helping children in Africa rather than consuming your time writing trivial crap about scrubbing your oven and sratching your face with apple vinegar. You need to get back to the city and blow your wad in Barneys."

So Mum says to tell you she's gone shopping and its up to me to write today's trivial crap... ...I'm still thinking about what to write. Lots of love, Dot xxx

2007-01-28T10:26:00.000-05:00

Showers and Shops

The hubby came into the bedroom Friday morning. "It's exactly 0 degrees [F] outside," he announced, rubbing his hands together with glee (we Brits are still suckers for this extreme US weather). I, on the other hand, was thinking about the freezing cold 3 minute shower I was about to have to take.

I prized myself from under the warm duvet and scuttled to the bathroom, asking the hubby if he'd time me while I was in there. "I'm not allowed to be in the shower for more than 3 minutes to save water," I said.

"Well, about bloody time," he started, clearly about to launch into a tirade. "Talk about a waste of water. You..."

"Yes, yes, I know," I interrupted. "I take long showers and that's bad and you're a saint, it's all on the blog." I thought to myself, this blog is great - we no longer need to actually have arguments; I can just direct the hubby online to read about why he's wrong (although on this occasion of course he's not).

I hopped into the (lovely, warm) shower and started lathering up. I washed and rinsed the shower gel off, then washed my face. As I was finishing that, the hubby announced my first minute was up. This wasn't going too badly; I'd had plenty of time so far. Then I shaved my armpits. "Two minutes," yelled the hubby. This was easy. As it wasn't a hair-washing day, I was practically done. However I could see that I would've seriously struggled to get my hair washed and conditioned within the time limit so decided that, rather than languish in the shower for my full time quota, I'd save the remainder to put towards a longer shower on a hair-washing day.

I grudglingly turned the tap of with my foot. "Finished," I shouted.

"2 minutes 40 seconds," came the reply, as I hopped up and down with the towel wrapped around me. I rushed back to the bedroom to moisturize and dress myself in the relative warmth of Dot's radiator.

I haven't timed myself since because we went to New York Friday afternoon to check out an apartment in Park Slope. We really liked the apartment, which is upstairs from our friends Greg, Sarah and Dot's mate baby Peggy (she's a littlegreenpeg and gave Dot this giraffe which she's barely taken out of her mouth since).But more exciting to me than living on the gorgeous 1st floor of a brownstone was the prospect of living one block from, and consequently becoming members of, the famous Park Slope Food Coop.

Apparently set up in 1973 (the year I was born; does this account for my neo-hippy tendencies?) the coop is a mostly organic and fair trade supermarket you have to join before you can shop, and every member has to work two days a month in the store, whether stacking shelves, balancing the books or cleaning out the chicken coops (actullay I don't know if they have chicken coops, but anyway). Sounds like heaven to moi. I think we'll take it.

2007-01-25T20:37:00.000-05:00

Readers' Tips

Dear readers,

Thanks so much to those of you who sent feedback on what works, what you liked, etc. Turns out your fave thing is pictures of Dot. And there I was thinking you were logging on for my scintillating eco advice and dazzling wit. Ah well, whatever it takes, but you'll have to wait till the end for the pic. What? I have to get you to read on somehow...

Some readers sent me their best tips (the formatting here has gone bonkers and am too tired to spend any more time figuring out why - soz):

from Penny: "try washing soda crystals to clean waste pipes from basins and sinks and to clean wash hand basins and baths. It is very effective and does not contain bleach, phosphates or enzymes" [I haven't found any yet, but will keep trying]
from Looby: "I must recommend

reusable cotton wool pads that you pop in their own little bag in the washing machine" [these are brilliant - cotton wool is one of those things where you probably don't think about how wasteful you're being, but these are the perfect solution. Also, the course of googling to find these, I stumbled on washable baby wipes. Has anyone tried them? Is really icky but then again...]

from Nick (Dot's uncle, the dentist, he's in the UK) in response to our wine question: "most Australian wines are organically grown, but cannot market themselves as such, in case of an outbreak in which case they may need to use pesticides. Our French neighbours are not so enviro friendly (no suprises there then), so it's a tough call to make" [we'll find out about Californian wines - see if the same is true]

from Damo in response to my 'Wal Mart hoodwinking us' piece: Wal Mart is going to change what organic means. [I found the NY Times article he suggested. You have to read it (here) - is v. interesting analysis of the pros and cons of 'big' organic. Here's the 1-line summary: "These foods may contain no pesticides, but they are drenched in petroleum even so". Oh dear. I guess the scales have fallen from our eyes. Better than nothing but apparently not much - maybe. The jury's still out...]

the hubby has even got in on the act, emailing me daily news stories about green stuff (the best one from today: this from The Independent)

Some readers responded to say I'm making them feel guilty by doing so much. Well, I'm not so perfect, believe me. In fact, just for you lot I'll come clean about one of the really big chinks in my armour: showers.

What can I say? I love showers. I know I should be keeping showers short, switching the water off while I soap up and shampoo, and buying an eco-friendly shower head (this I will do when I have some cash) but the fact is our bathroom is fer-eezing at this time of year (no heating in there of any kind. In a wooden house in the mountains! And it's 9 degrees F out there right now!!) and the shower is the rare bit of me-time luxury I get these days (forget pedicures and massages, I now remember even uninterrupted brazilian waxes fondly). And so, every morning I take my dressing gown off, shivering, promising myself this will be the day I start short showers, and then I get under that lovely hot water and I just cave in and stand there, immobilized, for just one more minute, just one more minute....Fortunately it's about then that I hear (or think I hear) a little someone squeaking and I turn the shower off and hastily dry myself and get myself dressed.

To be fair, for the last year or so in our overheated New York apartment, and especially in the summer, I really was turning the water off while I washed my hair; it's just at the moment I can't face it. And at least I rarely succumb to the temptation of a bath. But every time I get out of the shower, I know I've been bad. I wait for the hubby to pick me up on it (this is one place where he, having very little hair to wash and therefore being a very efficient showerer, could claim the mroal high ground) but he never does.

But now you know. And now I've told you I guess I have to do something about it. Apparently 3 minutes is the optimum. I'll start timing myself tomorrow, the coldest day of the winter so far.

God, my timing is off.

Now, in reward for your patience, here's the promised pic: in her littlegreendot suit and matching socks, knitted by her grandma:

Ooh, those eyes.

2007-01-24T20:34:00.000-05:00

Jeanius

As you all know, I'm trying to buy as few new clothes as possible, just as I'm trying to buy as little new everything else as I can. Let me tell you this hasn't been easy.

This morning though as I was pulling my favourite Marc Jacobs jeans out of the wardrobe I noticed to my horror a threadbare patch just gone through to a hole in the crotch. Oh no, diaster! Environment aside, not only can I not afford new jeans right now, but these have only just got really perfect - which is when jeans always start to fall apart.

So imagine my delight when, browsing one of my fave green blogs Eco Street, I found this entry about a company in NYC, denim therapy, which reconstructs your jeans for about $20 a pop. I am so sending mine in, along with my all-time favourite Calvins which I've been hanging on to in the vain hope that something like this might happen one day (you see, they could have been in landfill by now, but thanks to my complete inability to throw any clothes away ever, they will now find new life).

I love this - is a great antidote to the awful disposable fashion thing we've all got ourselves into. As you know, I love Top Shop at least as much as the next girl but make do and mend is surely the wave of the future. To this end, this week I've also customised a charity shop tunic for Dot and reviewed the bags of clothes under my bed and resurrected a few items. Applying the same principal to home furnishings, I've also updated some curtains for our living room with lovely red and white striped ribbon the hubby bought in the UK - pics soon. Beats buying a whole new set, anyway. Am now on the lookout for an old blanket or bit of fabric to turn our bedroom curtains into blackout blinds to make Dot's daytime naps a bit less of a struggle. Will let you know what I dig up.

2007-01-24T11:02:00.000-05:00

Rubbish husband

Oh dear. Not yet 9am and already an eco row in the Delaney Lethbridge household. Basically, Wednesday is dump day (as is Saturday) - we don't have garbage collection - so on Wednesdays the hubby has to drive to the dump to get rid of our trash and do the recycling. An early starter, he usually has this done and dusted while I'm still upstairs with Dot.

This morning, however, Dot and I were at the kitchen table as he readied himself. Out of the corner of one eye I sudennly noticed that not just the garbage, but also the plastic and even paper recycling were being thrown in black plastic sacks (one for each type of waste). Since the plastic was already in a plastic bag and the paper in a paper bag, it was pretty obvious to me that the additional bags were completely unneccessary. Not only that, but since he tied about eight knots in the top, these bags were not going to be reusable.

I couldn't let it pass. "What is the point of that bag?" I said crossly.

"Well, the bag in the bin is full, and I need to combine it all so I don't have to do three trips to the car" he said.

It's pretty cold outside, granted, but still, the car is a grand total of about 10 feet from the front door. This didn't strike me as a brilliant excuse. Garbage is one thing, but recycling? Basically, a whole huge bin liner was being used simply to double wrap and transport the paper and/or plastic 10 feet, then being chucked. Was it just me, or was this completly inexcusable? He'd obviously been carrying on like this for months, and had I not got my arse out of bed a bit earlier than usual this morning, would have continued on indefinitely.

"I do then throw the bags into the recycling," he said defensively.

"Yes, but you can't recycle plastic bags," I sighed. "Do you know what 200 bin liners a year in landfill looks like? If you didn't tie those knots you could at least reuse the bags every week - that would be better."

"What, reuse the bag that's been used for the plastic recycling that has dirty bottles and beer cans in it?" he said scornfully.

"Well you're supposed to be washing them out before you throw them," I said not meaning to catch him out, but really.

I knew exactly what was coming next.

"Alright then, YOU take over dump duties."

Ah yes, that old chestnut. "Well I will if I have to, but how hard is it really?" I said resignedly. "I'm not saying all this to be annoying, I'm saying it because it's really important."

He strode out of the room in a huff. I sat there wondering why it is that I still have to tell him this stuff. I mean, this is not a stupid husband (I don't think...). Could he not see the complete wantonness of using a bag just to get the paper from the bin to the car in one trip instead of two? Or am I just an evil wife making up excuses to nag my poor well-meaning husband (let's face it, I'd rather not be the one heading out to the dump in the freezing cold to dispose of Dot's dirty - albeit biodegradable - nappies).

Two minutes later he came back.

"Alright, well now I know what I'm supposed to do I'll do it differently next time," he said. "But there are limits."

"No, there are no limits," I replied firmly.

"Grrr, bloody green goddess," he said in a tone which implied 'you are impossible', and swept off to the dump.

While he was out I received an email from a friend of Sally's (she of carry-a-bag fame) who lives at this amazing eco-community in Ithaca, upstate NY not a million miles from here.

I forwarded the link to the hubby with a note saying, "At least I'm not making you live here."

He got back and read his email. "I'd actually quite like to live there," he said.

Weird. He'd really have to brush up his act or he'd have many more people than me nagging him there.

Actually might be quite good for our marriage to let someone else be the baddie for a change. Maybe I'll look into it...

2007-01-23T21:25:00.000-05:00

Cheating, AKA accidental greening

I love accidental greening - when I realize I've done something green but without really meaning to.

Like today. It got to around noon and the cupboard looked a bit bare, but I figured I could conjure some pretty passable burritos from a packet of tortillas that had been lurking in the fridge for weeks, a tin of black beans, a frozen tub of fresh salsa and the organic avocados which had been ripening on the kitchen windowsill. A squeeze of lime that was lying around and a carton of sour cream from the village store and we were in business.

My sloppy housekeeping caught up with me again this evening (still haven't entirely got the hang of this weekly shop thing; old NY habits die hard). As the hubby picked me and Dot up from our walk on his way home from Narrowsburg, I realized I'd forgotten to ask him to grab something for supper while he was there. Because of the petrol implications there was no way I was going to ask him to go back. Luckily he remembered we had some pasta and fresh puttanesca sauce left over from the other night, so that was supper.

What's so green about this? I'd managed to hoodwink the hubby into a meat-free day without his noticing (what is it with men and meat?). And, per Ideal Bite, eating no meat is so much better for the environment. To wit:

It takes 300 gallons of water per day to produce the food in a vegetarian diet, while a meat-eating diet requires more than 4000 gallons of water per day

A vegan’s diet consumes just 219 gallons of oil per year, while a vegetarian diet uses 303, and a meat-eater's uses 401

If the USA reduced meat consumption by 10%, we would free more than 12 million tons of grain a year – enough to feed 60 million people

So I reckon it's Meat-free Tuesdays from now on. The fact that the only meat we can get hold of up here during the winter (while our usual supplier of organic and grass-fed meat (River Brook Farm) is closed) looks like roadkill or radioactive waste (not to mention the fish, which is positively putrid) should make this pill a little less bitter to swallow.

For her part, Dot's decided to subsist solely on a diet of the New Scientist:

Oh damn, I better go - I think I just missed the one line dedicated to 'global climate change' in the president's hour-long State of the Union address - the first time he's ever mentioned it. Wait, here it is, courtesy of thinkprogress.org:

Bush said: “For too long our nation has been dependent on foreign oil. And
this dependence leaves us more vulnerable to hostile regimes, and to terrorists
who could cause huge disruptions of oil shipments … raise the price of oil … and
do great harm to our economy.”

He mentions it in order to scare us even more about the bloody terrorists. Plus ca change...

2007-01-23T20:15:00.000-05:00

Reduced Packaging

UK newspaper the Indpendent is leading a brilliant initiative to put pressure on supermarkets to reduce packaging. They've aked readers to send in their favourite examples of overpackaging (one cited a shrink-wrapped Tasmanian swede when swedes were grown in the field down the road - just like my styrofoam trayed Mexican butternut squash) and have started collecting examples from abroad of packaging-reduction intitatives. Click here and then on the front page visual (like the one below) to read for yourselves.

Perhaps I should take this to Pecks and pin it to the pin board. What do you think?

2007-01-22T22:59:00.000-05:00

As promised

Am trying to include pics every day. These are not especially exciting but Dot fans will appreciate nonetheless. In the first Dot looks a bit worried by the fact the garden's gone all white. Note the lovely cardi her granny knitted her (am sure homemade clothes are v. eco-friendly).

The second is Dot looking bonkers after her bath in her organic merino wool PJs (these can be found on one of my fave organic baby sites Nature Baby (full disclosure: it's in New Zealand so the air miles incurred almsot certainly negate the good done by buying organic wool clothes. But you'll have to let me off because I got the stuff before I knew about all this)). See? Bonkers. Bless her.

2007-01-22T22:42:00.000-05:00

Feedback, please

I know you're a bit of a coy lot when it comes to the comments (come on, what did you think of that ad I posted yesterday? Anyone?) but am going to ask you a favour - could you step forward and let me know what your favourite green activity of ours to date has been please, and/or which if any you have done too (after reading about it)?

Just wondering as someone has asked me about which green tips people actually find inspiring and achievable.

It would really help us you know. Cheers readers. We love ya.

2007-01-22T19:02:00.000-05:00

Facewash/Carwash

Last night as I was getting ready for bed the hubby came into the bathroom.

"It smells like a fish and chip shop in here. What are you doing?" he said. Then, looking at the grotty old bottle of Shure Fine apple cider vinegar on the counter, "And what's this doing in here?"

"Well, I read on a website of alternative home remedies that it's good for acne, so I'm using it to wash my face," I replied.

"You are joking, right?" he said.

I shook my head.

"There are limits, surely you have to draw the line somewhere," he said.

I guess from my expression he gathered I didn't agree.

"Fine, suit yourself," he said, "but I'm not coming anywhere near you."

But in fact, the smell was indeed so strong and so reminiscent of a fish supper that I had to rinse my face before I went to bed.

I gave it another go this morning. It stung as I applied it with an organic cotton wool ball (purchased in wal Mart, would you believe?) and by lunchtime my face was red and blotchy.

Maybe the middle of a cold snap in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains in a house heated by a fire and forced air is neither the time nor the place to be experimenting with extremely drying facial treatments, even if they are sort of eco friendly (especially since my hands are still like sandpaper from Saturday's cider vinegar oven door debacle). I'll give it one more try tonight and see how it goes. But otherwise I'll be sticking to my Neutrogena Healthy Skin facewash, of which I have almost a full bottle to use up.

By the way, I had been planning to blog about the following today: we do our laundry at the Narrowsburg Laundromat and Carwash (there seems to be some fascination with combining the two round here. I have to admit it's a good idea - wash your car while you wait for the laundry to spin). I was tempted to have a go myself yesterday but given that the 'real feel' temperature was 8 F (that's apparently -13C) and I was on a very windy patch of riverbank, I decided to leave it for the hubby to take care of. I also remembered that using a hose to wash the car was singularly wasteful and that I could achieve the same result at home using a bucket and sponge. So then I decided I'd do that at home today and blog about it, and went to bed feeling very pleased with myself.

Well, you can tell I grew up in England, not the aforementioned foothills of the Catskill mountains. Today we awoke to a sprinkling of snow and the thermometer hasn't crept above 22F all day. Leave aside the very real prospect of frostbite I'd incur if I'd gone ahead with the plan; I'd also have turned the driveway and road outside into a skating rink.

So the car will have to live with it's coating of salt for another few days. And we may have to settle for eco-unfriendly car washing till things warm up a bit.

So maybe I do draw the line somewhere, after all.

2007-01-22T11:38:00.000-05:00

Wal Mart telling porkies

Check this out: apparently Wal Mart is calling non-organic food organic in a bid to hoodwink earnest do-gooders like me into buying it. The cheek! Let's see what the investigation reveals.

Where the Hell is Matt?

2007-01-21T23:14:00.001-05:00

Just because it'll make you smile: this bloke just got Wrigleys to pay him to do this. How cool is that? Find out more at www.wherethehellismatt.com

2007-01-21T22:18:00.000-05:00

Chocolate as a political statement - brilliant

You might have noticed a higher than average number of pictures of Dot today. I don't want you to think that's because I'm trying to distract you from the fact that we haven't really done anything green. Ahem.

In fact, the greenest thing we've done is to stock up on Green and Black's Organic 70% dark chocolate and eat it. Yum. I've decided this counts. Just think of the pesticides not going into the ground. Plus, it's fairtrade - find out more at greenandblacks.com.

Actually I can't believe we've got this far into the blog without me mentioning Green and Black's. I love the stuff. Eating it is the green (but not black) thing I've been doing longest.

In fact, I'm more or less addicted. I've always been a dark chocolate girl (although the G&B milk is pretty good too) and for me, this is the one, although I was nearly persuaded to switch when I got a mouthful of another type of organic dark chocolate while I was in the UK - Montezuma's. It was smoother and creamier than the G&B but didn't have that bitter edge I love. And since you can't get it here, and since my friend Anna has started stocking G&B at Nest in Narrowsburg down the road (oh dear), I'll be sticking with it.

Actually, as an aside, I was thinking it was really interesting how widely G&B is now available - a bit like Horizon milk and Ben and Jerry's ice cream, it's everywhere. Turns out, per their website, they were recently acquired by Cadbury Schweppes - which explains it.

But anyway, it is a bit of a double whammy - chocolate being so yummy and also good for the planet. Turning vice into virtue etc.

And just before I go to bed, I've also come up with another green-ish thing to do involving the apple cider vinegar which didn't go into cleaning the oven. According to this home remedies site (for which I have to thank Bowery Babe Katya) apparently it's great for acne, and since my skin seems to have decided to take a turn for the worse lately, I'm going to give it a try. I have a feeling it'll have a similar effect to the homemade face packs Emily and I made when we were 11 (we misread the instructions - it called for a teaspoon of lime juice and we thought it said tablespoon. Ouch) but I guess it's no different from a salicylic or glycolic acid treatment, except much cheaper.

I'll try not to think too hard about the fact that I just used this to get the really stubborn baked on brown crap off my oven door.

G'night.

2007-01-21T22:14:00.000-05:00

Dot Fix

For those of you who like your daily fix of Dot, here she is, having lunch in an organic cafe in Andes (in the Catskills, not S. America), then going for a walk in the woods in Patagonia (her smurf suit, not S. America, ha ha). By the way, these terrible S. America jokes are courtesy of the hubby. He made me write them. He thinks he's really funny. At least his daughter's cute, eh?

What do you all think of this ad?

2007-01-21T22:04:00.001-05:00

Would love to know what you all think of this. Can you add comments, please? (Full disclosure: made by people I know)