SortaCrunchy

prelude to the gift guide

For several years, I've dreamed of sharing my enthusiasm for gifts created by hand with thoughtfulness and intention by talented artists around the world. Each year when store ads start to clutter the counter-tops of homes, I feel a little sad for those who don't know that there is a world beyond the mass-produced, unimaginative, meaningless stuff you'll find at the big box store.

I have very big feelings about the pervasiveness of consumption and consumerism in our culture. As you all know, we have spent the better part of 2011 working through every room in our home to untangle ourselves more and more from all the stuff that accumulates. For me to make a recommendation for you to buy something is a really, really big deal to me. There is a responsibility there that I don't take lightly.

Some of you may remember that my stance against stuff began when I watched The Story of Stuff several years ago. In that short digital film, Anne Leonard advocates for another way. She encourages all of us to intentionally step out of the mass-production-mass-consumption cycle and eat, think, and shop in a new way. We are not powerless victims of corporate America. We have more power than we think to enact change.

Within a economic system that finds its roots in capitalism, one of the biggest acts of change we can make is choosing to vote with our dollars. This hope for change that rests in my hands as well as in yours is exactly why I chose to seek out private sponsorship of SortaCrunchy rather than corporate, and it's why I wanted to create this gift guide.

Now, I realize it's only the beginning of November and some of you are shuddering against me for pushing you too close to the holiday season, but part of voting with your purchases is planning ahead. Scouring Amazon on December 19th or racing through Target on December 23rd will never result in the kind of purchases that will change our world. Thoughtful budgeting and early shopping are practices that allow us the freedom to make purchases that we feel good about and that are powerful parts of another way.

And so, this mini-manifesto is simply to say thank you in advance for understanding why this gift guide is so important to me. I'll be sharing more about the businesses featured in the guide throughout the season, and I wanted to just visit with you about before the season really takes off!

image by lady dragonfly

this you will love: GADANKE {a giveaway}

Giveaway now closed! Thank you for all of the entries! The winner is comment #4:

which means the gift certificate goes to Shannon.  Congratulations!

Fifth grade.  If I recall correctly, that's when my love of journaling began.  I've been a sucker for a blank page and pretty pens for so long that I honestly cannot imagine life without them.

Do you love a good journal, too?

Today, I'm excited to share with you a very very fun giveaway for fans of journals everywhere!

Meet Katie.

Oh, who am I kidding?  I'm sure you already know Katie.  She's the writer of Making This Home where she shares her family's adventures in splitting life between two countries - a 480 square foot apartment in Berlin and a house in the Rocky Mountains made of repurposed old tires.  As of this year, she'll be joining me on the Simple Mom contributing team to share about DIY & Making it Handmade.

And if that isn't all charming enough, she's also the creative force behind Gadanke - a shop specializing in handmade journals.  But these aren't any ordinary journals; Katie handcrafts each book and fills them writing prompts, pockets, doilies, pretty papers, doodles, lists.  Each Gadanke journal is made from 100% recycled papers, vintage fabrics, and domestic materials whenever possible. 

The pages above are from the {Something Serious with Something Silly} - Doodle List journal, one of six styles of journaling books created by Katie.  The newest design {Seeking Grace} is a prayer journal and was just released this month.

(Curious about how to pronounce Gadanke?  Check out Katie's fun explanation in her FAQs!)

Gadanke was born a few years ago around the time of Katie's grandmother's 90th birthday.  NPR's StoryCorps was in town.  Katie shared with me:

The two of us decided to hop into the recording studio to capture some pieces of her story.  I had all sorts of prompts to help her with her story telling.  (I was always the listener, the one who asked question after question.)  The only problem?  My grandma couldn't remember.  Too much time had passed.  Later, my dad turned to me and said, "Katie, I need you to write down your story."  I knew he wished he had his mom's stories.  So I started writing.  I started wondering about all of the other women who have stories deep inside of them, and I started thinking about how my tendency to just listen and ask could help put those stories onto paper.  Gadanke was born with fabulous writing prompts and recycled papers.  I feel so lucky to be living my dream.

Isn't that such an incredible story of bringing creation into the world?  I love it.

And I know you will, too, and that's why I'm thrilled to tell you that Katie is offering a $30 gift certificate to the Gadanke shop for one lucky SortaCrunchy reader!

This gift certificate giveaway is open to readers around the globe and will run from today, February 22nd until Saturday, February 26th.  Here's how to enter:

*** Visit the Gadanke shop and leave a comment telling which journal you would like to have for celebrating the stories of YOUR life. ***

Extra entries - LEAVE ONE COMMENT PER EXTRA ENTRY!!!

1) Follow Katie on Twitter
2) Like Gadanke on Facebook
3) Tweet about this giveaway
4) Post about this giveaway on Facebook
5) Subscribe to Katie's blog - Making This Home

Thank you, Katie, for such a generous gift! 

Happy shopping, everyone!

Getting the most USE out of REUSE!

We've been doing battle with the sickies all week, and so today, I am thankful for this guest post from Katie of Imperfect People.  It deals with my favorite of the 3 R's: REUSE. 

When it comes to organizing and storage, I would always purchase new containers to be just the right fit for the job.  I never thought twice about it! 

I then had a friend share some of her yummy soup leftover in an old spaghetti jar.  It honestly never occurred to me that I could do that!  I thought I had to use Tupperware for leftovers!  That jar of soup sparked my dive into repurposing containers (not literally . . . that would be interesting).

There are a million ideas out there that go far beyond using empty 2-liter bottles in the living room to serve as a flower vase.  In researching this post, I did my best to bring you ideas that are practical, easy, and attractive. 

Here is a short guide to help you see the potential to your trash!

Glass Jars:  While I already mentioned glass jars can serve to store leftovers (ideally soups and dips), there are a host of other things they can do.  Glass jars come in many shapes and sizes.  Take a second look at everyone that would potentially become trash.  They may serve better as a change jar, a flower vase, or a container for homemade bath salts, pre-mixed cookie recipes, bath oils, and hand scrubs. (photo at left courtesy goodLife{eats})

Parmesan Cheese Containers: These are perfect containers for refilling with powdered sugar.  Powdered sugar is often "sprinkled" yet it comes in a bag making it messy and awkward to sprinkle.  Put it in an empty parmesan cheese container and problem solved!   Same is true for baking soda (if you use it to clean), or any of your homemade spice mixtures.

Tissue boxes (the vertical kind): Makes a great trash cans for your car.
 
Egg Cartons: Take the lid off, poke small holes in the bottom and place in an empty bread or newspaper bag, and there you have an instant (free!) green house for seedlings!

Yogurt containers: The Stonyfield quart size containers are dishwasher-safe which make them another great food storing option.  The smaller ones are great for making Jell-O and popsicles!

Contact lens solution bottles:  I used these all the time in the homemade toiletries department.   They work great for homemade shampoo, conditioner and especially great for your oil cleansing method.  Just don’t forget to label them!

Tin Cans:  I love the ideas showing what can be done with these!  These soup cans found new life as "clutter cups": (via HGTV)

 

And look at this beautiful wall garden made from tin cans from Happy Sleepy:


With a little imagination, almost any container can be made to look like this one from that artist woman:

Trash Cans: They can be used to make a very simple rain barrel or a compost container!  I have a trash can in my backyard for compost.  I've tried several other methods of composting and this is the easiest, cheapest, and most functional option of them all.

Empty Coffee Cans:

Speaking of compost, you know those fancy containers that sit on your counter to collect your compost until you can bring it outside?  My “fancy container” is an empty coffee container.  It collects vegetable peels and everything else just as well as the expensive ones.  The bonus?  The little bit of coffee that was left helps to mask odors.  Plus, it’s free!

Next time you need a container think outside the box.  Did I mention boxes?  You can break them down and lay them flat under your mulch; they suppress weeds better than landscaping fabric and as they break down, they feed the earthworms!  

What containers do you repurpose at your home?

(You can find Katie at her blog Imperfect People, and follow her on twitter and Facebook as well!)

Linked with Your Green Resource - Week Five

Yes We Need a Little Tension, Right This Very Minute

photo by gavinandrewstewart

(In case you are wondering, yes.  Yes, you should absolutely sing today's title to the tune of We Need A Little Christmas.)

In the comments on the holiday anxiety post, several of you asked what do we do with Christmas after we've read Radical?  How do radicals celebrate the birth of Christ, our Savior?  Can we possibly do anything other than slouch towards Bethlehem, caught up and pushed along by the cultural norms of excessive consumption and consumerism, of frantic calendars and sloshy office parties, of weeks of whirlwind that leave us exhausted but far from fulfilled?

And I'm here to tell you that I have no answer for that.

But I do have some ideas.

And it's going to involve (you guessed it) tension. 

I'll invite you in to my place of tension, and I welcome you sharing yours.

In Jesus for President, there is a section on living as Cultural Refugees.  Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw talk about living as "people of the exodus," seeking not to offer a better empire but rather building a new society, a "strange and upside-down empire."  In that section, they write:

Consider the Amish, who understand well what it means to be a "colony of heaven," people who are living as strangers in a foreign land, resident aliens on the earth.  It's easy to imagine the questions of young Amish children growing up: "Mom, why can't we have an Xbox?" "Dad, why do we dress like this?"  "Why don't we have cars?"  You can almost hear the parents explain, "Other children may do those things, but you are special.  You are different: you are Amish.  You have a different story and live in a different way from other people in this world."  Christianity is an invitation to be part of an alien people.  (238) (emphasis mine)

The radical, the idealist within me rises to this paragraph.  We are different.  We are a people called out, and we should be known for our peculiarity. 

But we ENFPs, we are both empathetic and egalitarian to a fault.  And so when it comes to the impact of the choices we make and how they will affect our children, their childhoods, I stutter on my propensity for the radical.

Because there is still this part of me that wraps my arms around the Christmases of my own childhood and hisses through clenched teeth, tears in eyes: "But this was magical!  And wonderful!  The toy catalogs and the letters to Santa.  The laying in bed listening for the jingling of bells on a sleigh.  The presents.  The presents!  Wrapping paper and new toys and carrots and cookies with mysterious bite marks.  Stockings stuffed and wishes granted.  Who are you to deny your children of this?  What gives you the right to mess up Christmas for your children?"

Who, indeed.

The Christmases of my childhood were exceedingly wonderful and magical.  Oh, I loved it so.  But not a bit of it looked in any way peculiar or different.  It was the Christmas of the Empire. 

And it was not without it's darker moments, too: the little bouts of blue and depression that followed Christmas Day when we all sank, deflated, back to winter-chilled reality; the way no matter how generous my parents had been with gifts, I always felt I had to exaggerate (okay, flat-out lie) to my friends about the number of presents I had received; the way the novelty of new wore off so quickly, leaving in its space that familiar craving for more.

This is my tension this year: how do I live radically and set apart while crafting my children's experience of Christmas?

By His grace, others come alongside:

• We're doing a Jesse Tree for the very first time this year, and every single morning, the girls and I gather to read Scripture, discuss, pray, and place the day's ornament on the tree.  Every moment of Scripture moves toward Christ, and I am thankful for Ann Voskamp's guidance in our journey toward Him.  I know that the girls will know Him each day.
• I read the entries at the Christmas Change blog, loving what  Laura wrote about Offering, and I look forward to reading the thoughts of others.  (You can add your link, too, the way I am adding this one.)
• I listen in on conversations all around the world via this web, and I think about the growing Advent Conspiracy.

So right now, we press through the tension.  We don't yet know how to Change Big, so we Change Small.  Our hearts are on the peculiar.  We know the fullness of the Godhead bodily will eventually crowd out the trappings of the Empire, and so we start each day opening ourselves to Him.  We'll just have to trust, I suppose, that whatever way Christmas is shaped for our children, they'll grow up knowing our hearts were always in the right place: in Bethlehem, whispering with the angels and the shepherds Hosanna - God Save.

 

Lay It Down: Can You Be Fully Present This Holiday Season?

photo by Conor Lawless

When I wrote this in my mind, I was a little fired up. 

The first draft of these words were grace-less and judgmental, harsh and arrogant.  Thankfully for you (and for me), I've slept on it a bit.  I'm praying as I write that you will receive this with the spirit in which it is intended: a gentle challenge, a loving invitation.

Thanksgiving last weekend was the first family gathering in which the majority of the adults present had a smart phone of some kind.  My electronic drug of choice is the computer, and I know enough about my abuse of screen time to know that having a phone that does anything more than make and receive calls and send and receive text messages would be an unhealthy choice for me.  

So while I was detoxing from computer time on our trip away, I had a heightened clarity about the use of phones all around me.  And yes, on more than one occasion, I was so thankful for phones with GPS that navigated our way through the twisty, hilly roads of Branson.  I also laughed and laughed when not once, but twice, Kyle's iPhone GPS led us to a sketchy apartment complex rather than the Wal-Mart we were promised.

We have so much in those devices - tethers to life spinning in our spheres while we are "away"; recipes not lodged in cookbooks tucked away on shelves but right there in our palms available only seconds after we think of them; announcements of pregnancies and births and engagements and, yes, of passing; encyclopedias instantly answering the most trivial of trivia questions; all we could want and more.

They add so much.  But can't we see that they take so much with them?

Games meant for only one player replace families gathered around boards and pieces and cards and eye contact.

Checking Facebook one more time means missing the chance to check to see if anyone needs anything from the kitchen.

Continuing a conversation via texting means darting in and out of a conversation face-to-face.

I think most adults still have the social grace and common courtesy to hide away the phones during meals and the more formal aspects of holiday events.  It's what we do with our down time that speaks volumes about how engaged we are with those around us.  I'm reminded of my very favorite line from the movie Up when Russell says, "That might sound boring, but I think the boring stuff is the stuff I remember the most."  Who among us doesn't recognize that truth from our childhoods?

Anyone up for joining me in a challenge?

What would it look like if we put down, closed down, shut off, and put away the screens during this season?  What if at your next family gathering you:

• made faces at and played peek-a-boo with a baby
• took a toddler for a walk outside
• colored pictures with the younger kids
• taught the older kids how to play M.A.S.H.
• offered to do the dishes
• offered to take out the trash
• asked a relative to tell you a story
• listened to that relative who just needs to talk

How long do you think you could go?  An entire weekend?  One whole day?  Half a day?  A few hours?

I know I'm far from the only voice speaking on behalf of the iPhone-less.  I'm also no luddite (obviously), and I fully realize that technology is good and useful and, in many ways, necessary.  So I hope you're hearing my heart on this. 

My invitation to you is to immerse yourself in the season.  Train your eyes, your heart, and your mind on the moment as it unfolds.  Perhaps your mind will resist it at first; aren't we all so conditioned to fill up the blanks spaces with something? 

As you slip back into the familiar rhythms of years long gone, I bet you'll remember that being fully present is a gift not only to others, but also to yourself.  You'll pack full a spot in your brain that overflows with every detail, every nuance, every rich color and delectable smell and musical note of laughter and pause in conversation and gleam in the eyes of those around you.

All that is the best and good of time with family and friends at end-of-the-year gatherings is wrapped up and waiting for you to open, but it's hard to open anything using only one hand.  So are you picking up what I'm laying down?  I'd love to hear your thoughts.

 

 

 

Can We Talk About Holiday Anxiety?

It's upsetting because it never used to be this way.

The first Christmas commercial of the season used to make my tummy drop in that delicious up-the-roller-coaster way.  Silver bells and shopping bags and big box stores swathed in white-lighted swags of fake evergreens.  I poured over the Sears toy catalogue as a child and gleefully sang and danced in show choir Christmas shows as a teenager and wore out an Amy Grant's Home for Christmas CD when I was in college.  In our early married years, I started making gift lists in early September and often got all of my shopping finished before Halloween.

Probably the first Christmas after Dacey was born is when I noticed the holiday stretch was colored with a little more strain and a little less bliss.  Once we became parents, the stakes were higher for which side of the family we spent which holiday with . . . everyone wanted to see the baby.  You know how it is.  I honestly thought moving back home to Oklahoma would alleviate the holiday pressure somehow.  Less travel time meant more quality time as we caravanned from one part of the family to the other.

But as you all know, our move back home meant a career change for Kyle and that new career in the finance sector careened into a recession and we choked and sputtered as the financial strain sucked the air out of us.

All of this is to say when I saw my first Christmas commerical this year, my stomach dropped.  And not in a good way.  In a way that made me realize that I am struggling with some very real anxiety about the weeks to come.  And I know I'm not the only one.

As I wrote this, I couldn't help but to think about a song my dear friend Melissa wrote and recorded a few years ago.  It's not a holiday song; it's a song about hearing music from another room, and I guess that's kind of where I am right now.  I remember when Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Years played out like beautiful music as one year danced into the next.  And all of that Joy to the World and All I Want for Christmas is You and Go Tell It On the Mountain . . . I love it still, it's just so muffled, right?  So easily drowned out by the incessant buzz of worry in my ears. 

I want to get back to that place of twinkling and joy and peace on earth.  I want to gently resist this anxiety.  I want to be fully in the coming weeks, truly experiencing the season as opposed to tight-lipped, head-down survival. 

I mean, bloglville is going to abound in posts and articles and tutorials for all that is happy and light about the holiday season.  I'm thankful for that, but is it okay if we stake out a corner where we can get really real?  Really really real?

Is there anyone who would join me in this?  Would you be willing to trust me with your worries and apprehension that are holiday-related?  Do you think maybe in the next few weeks, we could talk through some of this together?  The comments are open if you are willing to confide. 

 

Cynthia Rowley has got nothing on cute (at least where diapers are concerned)

Hip. Trendy. Stylish.

These are three words I can promise you that would never be used to describe me.  I subscribe to three magazines : Time, Mothering, and Hobby Farm Home.  If you wanna discuss planting fall squash, natural cures for colic, or the latest Joel Stein column, I can probably hold my own.  If you wanna talk about the latest trends and newest styles, I will probably respond with a polite smiles and head nods that clearly signal my utter ignorance on the topic.

(I seriously didn't know who/what Paul Frank was until that whole Twitter thing happened.)

Thankfully, I can count on friends to keep me sorta in the loop.  For example, this week Gretchen at Lifenut mentioned that Cynthia Rowley will be designing diapers for Pampers.  I suppose that this is their attempt to one-up Huggies and their denim diaper release.  Gretchen noted that she isn't going to shell out more money for "paper madras," and I can't say that I blame her.  They might be cute, but they are destined to become landfill filler.  Cute landfill filler, but it's trash all the same.

It's Make Week!

Today marks the beginning of Make Week at Simple Organic!

I truly cannot convey to you how excited I am for this week.  We've fallen into some habits that do not inspiring making, and I didn't even realize how ready I was to break those habits until I began preparing for this week.

Thank you so much for your ideas on TV-Free mornings.  I've read each of them and thought about how best to incorporate what will work for us.  It's so helpful to hear a little of how other families spend mornings without the television.

I have so much in mind for this week.  Some of my thoughts include:

Make - order come to our two disasters areas in the house (the laundry/craft/catch-all room and the upstairs storage room)

Make - a workable recycling system

Make - some fun with upcycling (digging the everyday containers upcycled at DillyDally and Flitter and the Topsy-Turver Planter from a Plastic Soda Bottle featured at The Crafty Crow)

Make - some hand-knit dish scrubbies (because if I'm going to learn to knit, I have to make time to actually do it!)

Make - time to read actual books

Make - time to make believe (motivated by Sarah Baldwin's inspiring article at Simple Organic today)

Make - as Soule Mama wrote about today, time to wander

As you can see, this won't leave much time for TV temptation.  I do need to make you aware, however, that there is no way I am missing the Project Runway season finale on Thursday night.  (Go Team Seth Aaron!)  Just so know.  I have to make it work, y'all.

I am ready to make life happen this week!

You Tell Me: TV-Free in the Morning

photo by schmilblick

Next week, Simple Organic is hosting Make Week.  The premise is to invite all of us to turn off the TV and make life happen.

Even though I was a big Turnoff Week failure last year, I'm eager to take up the challenge again.  I feel inspired.  I think we can do better this year.

We've been slowly tapering off on TV-viewing during the day, and so I have some confidence that this won't be quite the shock to our systems that it was last year.  However, there is one pocket of time that I have no idea how to handle: morning wake-up time. 

It has been our habit since, oh, forever to watch PBS Kids in the morning as the girls are waking up, eating breakfast, and getting Dacey dressed and ready for school.  I confess to using this time to sip coffee, check emails, stop by Facebook, etc., while we all slowly come to life.

If you are TV-Free (all or mostly), could you share with me some ideas on what we could do instead of watching TV first thing in the morning.  (Please don't say read books out loud to the girls.  I can almost promise you that will not happen.)

I would love to hear your thoughts, and I would LOVE to invite you to participate in Simple Organic's Make Week! 

DIY: Repurposed Tumbling Composter

It's check-in day for Project: Spring Green!

My Project: Spring Green goal is to begin composting.  Earlier I wrote that I was going with an old-fashioned, simple heap system.  I do already have it set-up in a nice, out of the way location in the backyard.  It's not fancy, but it's workable.

But I have to admit, I am being tempted by this tumbling composter idea.  Have you seen these?  Kind of a brilliant idea, but a little pricey, too, right?

A couple of days ago, my friend Angie posted some pictures on Facebook of the DIY tumbling composter her super-smart, super-innovative hubby had put together for her:

 

Here is what he has done:

1) He began with a 55 gallon drum that once held soy sauce.  (He works in an industry that allows him access to such items.) 

2) He cut an opening from the top and used old door hinges to make the opening easy to open and close:

 

Door locks were used to make sure that the lid stays closed. 

This is what it looks like with the lid open (and a cute two year old investigating):

 

3) In order to promote air flow, he cut a hole in the bottom of the barrel and inserted a 3 inch PVC pipe about two to two-and-a-half feet long that he had drilled holes into.  To avoid pest infestation through the air flow opening, he covered it with some screen mesh:

 

4) I think this next step is just so incredibly clever!  Angie wondered if there was a way to collect the compost tea (or worm tea) from the composter.  Check out this solution -- he repurposed a little milk jug (the kind one might receive in a kids' meal from a certain kid-favorite fast-food-type place).  Holes were drilled into the lid of the little milk jug, and then he cut a hole in the bottom of the barrel the size of the milk jug lid.  Angie can screw the milk jug onto its lid to catch the tea!  Isn't that just brilliance?  I love it.

5) Finally, he constructed a stand for the composter from 2x4s and a leftover piece of cast iron plumbing pipe.

Yes, you can purchase a tumbling composter from your local home improvement store, but if you are resourceful, you can make one for much, much less money.  (Or you can commission your friend's husband to make one for you!  Yippee!)

Now, back to Project: Spring Green.  How are you doing with meeting your goal for the month of April?