From Bad Fruit to Smoothie Sailing

It is inevitable that the bunch of bananas that looked like just enough at the store are left on the counter by the family untouched. I see the brown spots begin and I know its a rush to eat 'em, but then we're going out of town this next weekend. I face those bananas (and maybe the leftover fruit at the bottom of my crisper) with dread. I feel like a failure as a healthy mom since Nature's good foods just sit and rot. I'm supposed to think of great ways to encourage them to eat & enjoy these foods, so what went wrong?

I searched my brain and found I'd been inventive, creative, encouraging and healthy. The mashed potatoes on the Shepherd's Pie have cauliflower in them, the beef stroganoff is over high fiber noodles with low-fat sour cream, and there are more veggies at every meal than meats/starches. I've kept my fruits seasonal, local, and listened to what the family wanted to see in that little wooden bowl. I'd done everything right - we just had too much fruit. The lesson for me here is that its not always that I've failed, but that I've succeeded too well in providing available and easy foods that are healthy.

Often I assume there's some clue I don't have in making things work, but the reality is that I'm assuming a lack in myself rather than a simple state of being. I've got fruit going bad. If I start with just that thought, then my mind quickly jumps to "what can we do with it" rather than the self-defeating "I've messed up" thoughts that begin when I see the fruit as my fault.

So what did I do? I peeled the bananas and cut them into thick slices which were frozen individually on a piece of waxed paper. When they were solid I put them in a freezer bag labeled and dated. The last of the strawberries and some blueberries I found on super sale also went the wax paper / freezer route. These will make fabulous smoothies for my son and I after a hard day of home schooling and we can talk about frugal living and nutrition while we do it.

The obstacles to the smoothies were all in my attitude of martyrdom and personal lack of confidence. A deep breath and a fresh look at the not-so-fresh fruit gave me a chance to take a different approach, make a different choice on how this little event impacts my day.

Household Appliance Geek

Hi, my name is Scarlett and I'm a Household Appliance Geek. I know this because I nodded in sage understanding as my friend uttered the phrase, "Well if we want the patches can be done at my house. I have a Rowenta." My eyes lit up and I felt a little envy, the kind that makes you want to save pennies to purchase the hot little number my friend possessed. In that moment, my geek-dom was revealed in true form.

Rowena is a particularly powerful and precise iron. Now mind you, I don't iron if I can avoid it, rewash it, or otherwise pretend like wrinkled is "in" this year, but I admire a Rowena. This machine, and its counterparts all over my home, epitomize the ideal form of quality that I enjoy collecting -- the kind meant to save me effort. I can be very supportive of saving myself effort but not particularly of spending the small chunk an iron like that will cost. It has taken time and much of the words I ignored from my mother to learn that quality appliances are well worth the money in the long run - penny-pinching step aside! That being said, I'm still not going to rush out and buy a Rowena. *sigh* I know myself well enough to realize that I just will not iron, so buying an expensive albeit fabulous iron won't make it any better no matter how much I try to wish it to be true.

Appliances in my home where I've invested rather than scrimped include: washer/dryer; dishwasher; convection oven; outdoor grill and my bed. Yup - a bed. I spent more on it than I ever really wanted to spend, but since I spend nearly eight (okay - more like 6, but who counts?) hours a night there I consider it an investment in my health. The convection oven, however, was actually more of an investment in my home's value. One of the few areas where improvements in a home return to you is in the kitchen and the bath - so I spent a little more to have an oven I love while I'm here and one that will sell well when the time comes. Each item is considered on my daily usage, quality for price paid, durability, functionality for me (does it suit how I use the machine), etc.

Knowing which appliances are quality goods probably makes me a bit of a brand monger in the end, but I'm okay with this fact. It means I know what I want and what is worth my time. Afterall, my time is very valuable!

Expect the unexpected...

I got called into work on Saturday and pulled an 80-hour week that meant cancelling my vacation and Father’s Day plans. Now I’ve got projects to work on at home over the weekend and into next week. Let me explain.

If I were employed at a different address than the one I list as my home then most people would make sad noises about how awful my boss is and that I should be getting overtime. As I work and live in the same building, the assumptions seem to change and I become just another good hearted soul who maybe “should” do these things. The expectation that someone perform these duties can, in my experience, build resentment for the job and the patient. Maybe I am good hearted, but mostly it is what I do because my job here at the house specifically includes being available for emergencies. I take care of the people around me and that means that on a Saturday afternoon I can get called away from my scrapbooking and into the hospital to take care of a friend who had lived with us and celebrated holidays, birthdays, and occasional lunches with our family.

She began having seizures six or more times a day and could not be left alone in the hospital, so it became necessary that I stay with her. My job in the hospital included: managing her medical care, talking with doctors, assisting with meals, finding a dietician when the gluten-free diet was forgotten, contacting employers and family, and bringing the daily comforts that make life easier – like hazelnut creamer and really good coffee. I tried to keep her in good spirits and provide emotional support (and practical next-steps) when she felt discouraged. One of the things I did was begin to write down an abbreviated medical history and list of emergency / family phone numbers. At home I typed it up and it is now tucked in with the friend’s driver license. She cannot talk during the seizures and good samaritans might need that information. I have a similar but less detailed contact sheet for my son that includes his allergies, pediatrician, insurance information, and common phone numbers to find family members.

My home duties didn’t change very much during this overtime at the hospital. My son still needed to be dropped off for summer camp, picked up from summer camp and lunches prepared. The rest of the family still needed to eat in the evenings. Thankfully I had already planned what needed to be made for nutritious and interesting lunches at camp and the frozen dinners I’d made a month ago were just a quick warming away from dinner served. I’m so glad I listened to the advice about thinking ahead for busy times! The 20 min to make those meals saved me hours of stress while I was in the hospital room.

I couldn’t have spent the time at the hospital with our friend if my family hadn’t pitched in! I do my best to make such events as stress free as possible, but truly they stepped up to the plate. My family does a fantastic job of finding their own way around the kitchen and even picking up on some of my chores like laundry when I’m busy elsewhere.

I am the one who goes to the hospital because I’m good at it and because we choose to have someone (me) available for such events. There is no obligation to be at the beck and call of family (at least not in this system), but it is our choice to support the people who form our community because we believe in intentional community. I did not resent my time at the hospital with our friend and neither did my family. I knew that there were limits of what I could do and my family knew I would not abandon them. Knowing exactly what is expected of me as a Domestic Goddess (via my job description) put reasonable limits on the time I could spend away from home.

I did not get any overtime for my long week of work and I lost my vacation time in the process, but I reclaimed vacation time in small bits here and there over the next few weeks with the help of my family. My bosses appreciated my efforts and supported both my absence and my return. My family intends to live in a world where caretakers are given the resources to do their jobs because it is good for everyone. So far paying me to be a Domestic Goddess has allowed us to live our principles.

It's coming up roses in my Laundry Room

The rose bush planted last year off our deck is in full bloom and a few moments to clip it have produced a fascinating bouquet of dark pink roses for my kitchen. But not everything in the house is coming up roses. My laundry room stinks!

I recently piled some sour smelling beach towels into the washer for a nice deep soak, but nothing could quite remove the sour smell from my laundry room. Even with the towels sunning outside and the litter box squeaky clean my nose told me something was amiss. I searched for the offending (and presumably wet) cloth everywhere, but opening the washer's lid was where I found the sad surprise. The offensive smell was actually lingering in the washing machine itself. As I grabbed a small tub and baking soda (all I really needed to clean the ring around the tub, thanks Granny!) I contemplated the way of these machines.

I rely on their labor saving help every day, but rarely do I stop to do any maintenance. I change the oil in my car and rotate the tires, but when was the last time I scheduled care for the machines inside my home? The washer, dryer, refrigerator, dishwasher, and air conditioner are systems that perform better if they have a little attention, but growing up I didn't learn much about what kind of care they need - just that some crazy cousin always fixed them when broken. I grew up in the struggling suburbs of Atlanta and while some of my clothes came from Sears, I didn't know what a service agreement or warranty was until I was grown. I didn't have one until we bought our first washer/dryer. Now the washer is out of warranty, but not out of mind.

As I type my hands are drying from the wipe-down of the washer, a task that took less than 15 minutes. The baking soda cost me less than $.03 and the elbow grease was minimal to remove the ring of scary looking dirt inside my machine. A quick rinse in water removed the grime and then a spray with a light mix of clorox/water means that the smell is completely gone and my washer is cleaner than the clothes I'm putting in it! The rag I use for cleaning and then toss in with my towels, but now I'm determined to take whatever rag is handy and give the washer a brief swipe before tossing it in for a load. This should reduce the number of times I have to break out elbow grease.

I'm pretty sure that there are pieces within the washer that should be oiled or tightened after its 12 year life, but I'll leave that to another time when I've researched the online maintenance manual. I did have the manual for my vacuum and cleaned the collection tank with water per the instructions. Now two of my household machines are happier and will work better for me, hopefully leaving me time to enjoy those roses or my garden (the source of a great deal of my dirt!).

I'm not a neat freak, just ask my mom, but sometimes it's a lazy thing, really, to maintain the tools. The better these things function, the less work I have on an every day basis. Normally I scrub the floors, bathrooms, our clothes and the couches (windows are my bane), but today it was a clean of the cleaners. These cleaning machines share my work around the house and almost never complain, but they deserve my attention if I'm to have a home that works to support my life and allow me to smell those roses.

From tomatoes to zen

Sometimes you've just got to get your hands dirty and the tomato plants just have to get in the ground. I love home grown tomatoes, but gardening has never been a particular skill of mine. When I discovered that a series of events had conspired to prevent the lovely 20' x 30' garden from being planted just off my deck -- I determined I just couldn't let that happen. So I put on gloves to hide my brown thumb and set about pulling the massive hump of running vines and weeds in the garden plot. Planting struggling tomato plants was something I'd been putting off, and I wish now I hadn't delayed such an opportunity for happiness.

My son had a small trowel and was helping me along. Loosen the dirt, twist, cut and turn, ... loosen the dirt, twist, cut and turn. The process was so focused that I didn't notice the time or mind the energy. I remembered a meditation class (paid for and enjoyed) and wondered about the similarity to activities of my home that develop that same peaceful, productive, smooth and easy pattern. When I combine music and dishes I focus on the task of clearing away the remains of the past and wiping the plate clean for the next opportunity that comes along. Vacuuming brings my eye to the base of my home, where I place my steps in a sea of woven thoughts and examine the pieces that support my world. I am walking in this world lightly, with clean socks and a clear mind thanks mostly to the vacuuming. I haven't yet found my peaceful inner duster, but I have hopes!

The zen of housework sounds counter intuitive when the going paradigm is to avoid the drudgery of everyday scrubbing. Every month seems to bring with it new and interesting tools to shorten the time it takes to do laundry, dishes, or dusting. Like a consuming chant from the commercials comes "get it done in half the time," but I'm not quite sure I want all that meditation time taken away from me. What is it, exactly, that I'm rushing so hard to get to? My constant answer to such questions is that I need more time with my son. Or is that really it? Whenever I find a shortcut I never quite get the savings out of that labor saving device I'd expected. So I've stopped finding new devices and just started living with the time I have available.

I needed to plant the tomatoes this morning and my son worked right along with me, breaking up the clumps of dirt and covering up the roots as the plants found their new homes. I didn't use the tiller and maybe the task took a little longer and wasn't as impressive, but the plants found their grounding in the scratched out garden corner we made. In an amazing turn of events I even got the missing time with my son despite the use of hand tools and people power. Funny how that worked out.

Now I'm looking forward to my afternoon laundry. My son will help me move the laundry from inside to outside and we will chat as I reach into a basket for cool damp clothes and hang them along the line under my pavilion. I feel as if I am finally getting things done and being involved in my world. The time with my son or alone with my heart is hard to beat. The moral superiority of reducing my ecological footprint is bordering on smug, but its ultimately my immersion in the rhythm of my world that I champion as the success of my day. It helps a little that I haven't spent money on that nifty tool or this plastic piece and yet I've gained time, connection, tomatoes, and a sense of what I'm capable of doing.