Beware of linen in wolves’ clothing

I decided several years ago to beef up the amount of linen clothing I have. It’s a beautiful fabric that while wrinkly as all get out, wears well, breathes and has, I believe, a natural elegance about it that faux-fiber clothing simply can’t match. One of my best sources for linen clothes is thrift stores. Some of the linen is lower-grade, mass-produced stuff from Old Navy and such. Sometimes I find exsquisite 100% Irish linen items, I often find designer items and generally, I find nice basic stuff.

Earlier this week, when I was coming from a client meeting, I decided to zip over to one of my favorite thrift stores: Unique Thrift Store off Veirs and Randolph Roads. I bought two linen button-down tops, a linen skirt and a so-cute-if-you-have-my-proclivities 1970s vintage linen kitchen apron. When the laundry was done and I was ironing my new-found linen items, I noticed something. It’s a hunch, a suspicion, not fact. This is what I saw: the skirt I’d bought wasn’t responding to the heat and steam from the iron the way I’d expect linen to. I took a look at the label to confirm that I had bought 100% linen, as I aim to do. Yes, the label “confirmed” that it was s100% linen. Then I noticed the line below, “Made in China.” And that’s when the item went straight to the give-away pile.

Now, before I write some exegis (sp) on the moral character of the typical Chinese businessman, I’ll just say over the years, from stories I’ve heard from individuals, from recent news reports and articles, and from radio show commentaries and more, it seems that cutting corners ain’t such a bad thing in the big overarching culture of Chinese (as in the country) business practices. When I’d started to have my suspicions about the skirt when it wasn’t responding to the iron, I looked at the fibers more closely. They looked like linen, but weren’t.

OK, so I’m down $4 or $5. No big deal. I figure with many a trip to the thrift store that an item or two won’t be perfect when I get back home and see how well it integrates with/complements my wardrobe.

The other point, which of course is so obvious to me now, is that I knew in that BLINK! part of my mind that it wasn’t real. I can remember at the store that I sort of shrugged my shoulders when I decided to buy the skirt with a, “well, it’s 100% linen and a color that’s close to one of my favorites” thought running through my mind. I must-must-must remember to use my feelings when making decisions as well as my brain, and for the two of them to have a pow-wow in such matters. My brain read the label, saw the color, assessed the shape and such. It knew that the item would be a “house skirt” of sorts: colorful, casual and, let’s not forget, “100% linen,” as I like. But my feelings knew better. They picked up on the not-quite-elegant structure of the skirt and the close-but-not-perfect color. My feelings were doing the “meh” talk while my brain was racking up the yes-pile information. A pow-wow was, indeed, needed here.

Now, of course, for any of you who do your share of thrift store shopping, or the like, I’m betting there is a part of you that is quite aware that you sense your way through the aisles. Unlike mall/big-box retail where gazillions of items are showcased to entice us, organized by departments with nifty signage and display, shopping at thrift stores require a completely different approach. It would be insane for me to literally review each skirt in the section of small skirts at such a store and decide individually if I like it. I have to scan, to sense, to use a different combination of perception abilities to decide at what items do I want to take a deeper look.

As I close up this post, that is, I realize, one of the things I like most about thrift store shopping. I experience that it’s about navigating a vast amount of data organized in a manner quite different than today’s retail environment. Instead, it’s very much about finding a needle (or two or three) in a haystack and using my ability to sense, discern and decide in a way that’s both a skill-builder and — in most cases — quite rewarding.

Freecycle your perennials: give and get

A Letter to the Editor I submitted to the Columbia Flier was published this week. It’s about Freecycling.org and using the site for sharing your wealth of perennials … or about receiving from the abundance of others. I’m glad the Flier ran the editorial. And — just to be super-clear about my hypocrisy on this subject – I hate*hate*hate Freecycle’s culture and style. I won’t go on about why other than to say I pine for the day that another tool pushes Freecycle’s sorry-ass site out the door and into the pastures — or graveyard. Perhaps that will happen when someone with enough balls comes in and takes over the system. Alas, that day isn’t here yet and while Freecycle has the most archaic-we-haven’t-evolved-since-the-1990s feel to it — in ALL respects — it is the only such tool that has any audience to speak of at the moment. *sigh*

So, I had to say that. Yes to the concept. Boo-hiss to the deliverer/delivery/organization/culture/system/tools.

Will somebody please wrest this beast to the ground and force it to evolve or die? In the meantime, it’s available for use inside the local community for moving physical items around in a free exchange.

ChickenCam: My first-ever video.

Tonight I made my first video ever. It’s ChickenCam and features the growing chicks at my friends’ new farm: Buckland Farm in Bedford County, Pennsylvania. Here’s the video:

If getting a close-up of chicks, farm life and stunning clear night skies sounds like your idea of fun, they’re opening their bed and breakfast in May. It’s a great place to relax and breath in fresh air and fresh views. Plus, they’re offering CSA (community supported agriculture) shares this year in Columbia, Takoma Park and a few other places. So, if owning a farm isn’t quite in your cards, but supporting one is — especially two people who have both sold their homes in the suburbs to make a go of a localvore, organic, sustainable farm — please consider buying a share or half share of their CSA. Plus, it’ll be good for you. You’ll have a stream of veggies coming through the door. I’m getting a half-share as I have access to a garden myself.

You can keep up with their progress/stories/experiences. Carrie blogs about the B&B here, and Dan blogs about the farm and CSA here. As well, they’re on Facebook. Search “Buckland Farm” to become a fan.

Resurrection.

I love this time of year.

I love watching the Earth — and all her pieces — wake up, emerge. I love seeing that which was dead, transformed to become something anew.

A couple years back, interestingly — or oddly, depending on your perspective — I went on a binge collecting dry, raked leaves. I believe it was the fall of 2008.  I had a favorite leaf I scoured for: the small, PITA leaves of the locust trees planted with abandon in the early ’70s in my hometown, Columbia. I like these leaves because they’re already shredded, in a sense. They’re little and more easily composted or used as a mulch in flower beds and around bushes. I’d go out in the neighborhood, with the now-returned rolling recycling bin and a rake in hand, looking for the locust trees. The little leaves would be in mounds in the street, dry, easy to collect and plentiful.

If you live in the 21045 ZIP code and were missing bags of leaves a couple years back, I might be your culprit.

When I ran out of that option in my easily walkable vicinity, I turned to leaf-bag snatching. I’d drive around in nearby neighborhoods the night before the yard-waste pickup up, and I’d scavenge. I’d look for bags of leaves that were dry and mostly twig-free. If the leaves had a mix of grass clippings, all the better. (I needed green material and vegetable matter to speed decomposition.) I borrowed a neighbor’s leaf mulcher (side note: if I were God, I’d mandate each SFH have one of these and have to use it!) and then I mulched, mulched, mulched the leaves. I spread them on every bit of bare soil around shrubs, perennials and flower gardens and, of course, in the vegetable garden. And when those options were filled to the hilt with mulched leaves, I turned to the fairly large deck off the rec room. It was high enough off the ground to provide crawl space, but low enough that mostly what was below the deck was hidden from view. Bag after bag of snatched leaves went under there. I pushed the leaves as deep and far back as I could. I brought in more. And more still. I dug the earth from under the deck, scooped it and threw it on the leaves to weight them down and bring some Earth bacteria and little critters into the mix, to accelerate where I could their decomposition.

I was, admittedly, obsessed.

I had an intense feeling that the concept of “being green” and “sustainable” and “eco” and all that jazz was nothing — meaningless — if I wasn’t doing it MY OWN environment. I felt a deep and undeniable need to create soil. To enrich the Earth. To fortify the content of the ground in and around the home. I needed to know that regardless of what was happening across the street, or down the road, or uptown or in Namibia, for that matter, that I would do what I could to make my soil rich. And that I would do so as much as possible inside the realm of the ecosystem and opportunities in my range.

Then spring and summer of the next year came. The mulched leaves were remarkably transformed. The full leaves needed to be, for the most part moved. A portion could be dug under and into the soil, but most went under the deck, added to the now-reduced volume that I’d piled in there in the fall. With summer came grass clippings. I gathered some of those, a bit wary and not too zealous, as I assumed many of my neighbors used weed killers and other chemicals that would affect the worms, critters and bacteria working so diligently to transform what once-was-dead into that which could provide new life. My secret weapon was the large plastic bags filled with vegetable scraps from a grocery store. I’d pick these up, here and there, and throw them under the deck and into our compost pile.

My obsession had sequence. It had logic and a plan.

Yep, it's like that.

The rains. The heat. The seasons. They came and they went. Now, here I am, on Easter Sunday, looking out at a garden so ready for new life. The compost pile I dug out on Good Friday. The dark, thick, rich soil, so heavy and ready to bring its capacity and value to the garden. The worms, hundreds if not thousands of them, ready to move into and about the garden to bring their ability to make even richer the new soil they’ll call home. The many pounds of rich soil I’ve harvested from under the deck, used as amendments, topping and volume to bring new life to the flowers, shrubs and, even, grass.

Hour for hour, everything I did was — if I was measuring from some outside view of looking at “effectiveness” and “ROI” — would be an utter waste of time. Foolish. Ridiculous. But I didn’t make soil to have soil. Soil can be bought. It can be delivered by a landscaper or big-box home-improvement store. No, I made soil with purpose. To transform that which was waste into that which had value. To live inside an ecosystem and maximize the uses and resources there. To make the soil and worms and plants and bacteria on this little bit of land where I live, more alive, touched, loved, enriched, called forth — and supported — to be more, to be its best. And for that enrichment to then fuel me and those I love, in the vegetables and fruits I’ll eat from the garden. When I walk barefoot on the grass, the soil and bacteria and little critters that live in the same zone I call home will be touched, nourished and supported by my work, my attention and my care.

Someone else's pic, but the same net effect in my yard.

And this dirt, toil and labor — this is my experience of the holy season so many religions share. This is my experience of resurrection, my experience of rising up from the dead.

Happy Easter, beautiful people. Rock on.

Fight global warming. Promote global WORMing.

How to build a worm bin. A video sent to me from my sister. … Who is both avid — and a bit of a nut (in the loving and adoring and I know-her-so-well version of “a nut) — about acquiring and using environmental smarts. She’s an inspiration to me in identifying what’s important to her, finding (and creating) good information to support her vision and sharing it with others. You should take a look at her Squidoo lenses!

This video is on how to build a worm bin is informative, funny and well-made. Go, quirky GenXers, go!

I’ll take the soup of the day and the flu buster.

I have my own relationship to food. To health. To my body.

I find myself intrigued and compelled to things that seem logical, Godly and easy. In that, I like the concept that food is God’s kindest and smartest medicine for strength and capacity, for curative powers and for prevention. And while I eat my greens and such, I also feel drawn to foods that are strong in taste, and Dr. Schulze’s SuperTonic Plague Fighter is one of my favorite examples of this. It’s a combination of garlic, onion, habanero pepper, ginger and horse radish, in a base of apple cider vinegar. (Recipe/instructions here.) And, if that doesn’t spark things up inside my body, I don’t know what will. Recently, a chef in Atlanta, commented on an earlier blog post of mine, that he not only makes his own STPF, but that he also sells it at his restaurants, and his customers love it.

I’m wondering — and wouldn’t be surprised to see more of this — that as Individuals In A Nation Transforming, as expectations and attitudes toward caring about our health shift, what that might look like. Me? I’m interested in more personal responsibility. I’m interested in less righteousness about showing up at the doors of Our Health Care System, demanding endless treatment for problems self-created by a life-time of careless choices. I’m interested in supporting others and being supported by others in a culture informed by the belief that we each play a role in both the big — and the infinitesimally small — picture of A Healthy Nation. I want to walk into a local restaurant and be able to choose a good wholesome soup … and a bottle of flu buster, made fresh that day by the chef. I want to be acknowledged by The Health Care System for the choices and lifestyle I’ve lived. I want to be honored and respected for that. And while I’m not advocating for specific punishment, per se, for those who’ve chosen otherwise, I want to live in a culture that speaks with a clear and honest voice about the impact of choices made. And the responsibility of individuals to participate in The Care Of Their Health while they receive from the bounty of The Health Care System.

You? I don’t know what you want. I don’t know how you see it. I don’t ask that you see things exactly as I do. But I do want — and hope to find as I live my life — more people in the tribe/bandwidth/vibe of the realm of this thinking. The solutions: so many of them are right here, right now. It’s a matter of truth telling, I think. Being clear, real, straight up.

Hey, I’ll drink to that! And I invite you to join me. Perhaps we can have a  shot of SuperTonic Plague Fighter, straight up.

My best-ever tomato salad

So, you may ask, what was I thinking, buying tomatoes in mid-September? Shouldn’t my appetite for garden-fresh tomatoes be waning and my thoughts moving to squashes, beets, cabbage and the vegetables of fall?

Well, I was at Second Sunday, a delightful market in Historic Ellicott City, and the farmers were nice, and the price was right, so I bought eight large tomatoes. Here’s my most-amazing ever tomato salad, barring from consideration, of course, the classic olive oil, balsamic, basil, salt and pepper salad. Oh, and don’t forget the garlic.

Anyhoo, here’s what I mixed. Heaven!

• 3 large tomatoes, diced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 banana pepper, diced
• Basil
• Rosemary
• Nama Shoyu (like soy sauce but diff)
• Brown rice vinegar
• Olive oil, top shelf
• Wasabi-Ginger finishing sauce from Bittersweet Herb Farm (also got this at Second Sunday)
• Salt
• Ground pepper

It was delicious right away. And ultra-fantastic the next day. Yum. Yum. Yum.

If you’re in The Hoco, I highly recommend Second Sundays Market in Historic Ellicott City. Come by yourself. Come with a friend. Stroll. Shop. Sip coffee. Listen to music. Support local businesses and local farmers.

Scratch and sniff.

Oh, if only the internet offered a scratch-and-sniff option. Your nose might be as happy as mine is at this moment. Those are fresh strawberries, right out of the garden. Fresh, fragrant and home-grown.

And gone. Took me but a minute or two to eat them all after taking this photo.

Earth Day: Gettin’ wiggly wit it

It’s Earth Day weekend, so to speak. Everyone’s going green. Except me. Hey, call me an iconic gen xer. I’m just so tired of causes, preaching and big-cost events to show alignment with values. So, I skipped the Green Apple Festival in DC and went brown. Yes, brown as in earth, dirt, soil.

See, yesterday, a friend of mine and I were carpooling to an event in Virginia. When I got to her house, early in the morning, I noticed dozens of sad souls: vibrant earth worms struggling against an inevitable fate: death by drying out on a concrete driveway.

So, I got to work. I knelt. I picked up a worm. I put it on the moist grass so that it could find its way back down under. And then I hit the *repeat motion” button in myself, saving dozens of worms from a cruel and unfair death. My friend, not one oriented toward squiggly, wiggly, slightly mucous-covered worms, followed in my footsteps, perhaps with a little less zeal, but with plenty of heart.

It took us 5, maybe 10 minutes. Together, we saved dozens of worms, fortified the soil of her front yard with God’s gifts of natural aerators, fertilizers and earth movers (the worms), and then moved along to our destination. And we didn’t have to buy anything to show we’re Earth Girls. How easy is that?

Local Wild Life Hero

Michael Oberman, ozoni11 on flickr, tells a story of a how one of his photos, and the concern and action of a few others, saved this beautiful Great Blue Heron from death. Here’s the story, below, but you gotta click to see the pics. From a Feb. 2008 post on Michael’s flickr account –

For several days, this Juvenile Great Blue Heron had been flying to Wilde Lake with its beak tangled in a mass of mesh, ribbon and other debris. It continually struggled to get rid of the debris but its beak only became more snared in the mess. My photos of it in distress were sent to wildlife rehabilitators. The problem was worsened by the fact the heron could fly…making it harder to capture. Yesterday morning, with the temperature around 10 degrees fahrenheit, the mass around its beak was frozen solid. A hawk was circling, ready for the kill. A brave soul who lives next to the lake took his kayak out, broke through the ice, cornered the heron, keeping it calm until more help arrived. The heron was captured, freed from its entanglement and kept overnight to be checked out. This afternoon, it was released back into the wild…happy and healthy. Kudos to all involved!

Did you know that Michael is not only a world-class photographer, but that he is also a member of our local time banking system? Michael offers nature photography lessons locally through time banking. You can be a member, too. It’s free to join, and it’s a great way to be of service to others, and have your contributions and time valued.

A gardener’s paradise on Freecycle ?

I think it would be just grand if there was a Gardeners’ Paradise on Freecycle. A site just for perennial plants wanted and given. A site where people could find homes for (as opposed to The Dump, aka Alpha Ridge Landfill) their unwanted hardscape. A place where neighbors could help neighbors beautify their yards and gardens … for free.

Freecycle is great, but there’s just tooooo much stuff there. There’s no sorting or tagging of information. So, a person in Steven’s Forest who is hoping to find some free perennials has to sort through baby coupon offers, kids books, a cat carrier, ostrich cowboy boots in size 12.5 and all sorts of other items. Even if they find free perennials, they might have to drive out to Dayton to get them.

I have some further ideas for how this could be implemented. I’m talking about a hyper-local service here. Post a note in the comments section if you want to take this concept up a notch.

In the meantime, this weekend, in that brief period of time when it was actually sunny and warm, I dug up several dozen medium-sized, green-leafed hostas and some yellow heirloom irises. Free on the Columbia, Md., Freecycle group.

***

I’ve blogged about using Freecycle in our community here and here.

***

The hostas look like the plants pictured here.

SuperTonic Plague Fighter: A recipe

Every couple of years, I make a whopping batch of SuperTonic Plague Fighter, a recipe I got from the avid proselytizer of natural health solutions: Dr. Richard Schulze . I like to make my batch on special days. I made a Blue Moon batch in 2001, a Night of the Living Dead batch in 2003 and a Leap Year Day batch just this past Friday.

SuperTonic Plague Fighter is great for fighting off icky things, and I take it often when I start to get the “Uh-oh, I feel like I’m getting sick feeling …” I also take — and keep plenty on hand -- Dr Schulze’s Echinecea Plus.

Here’s how I make it:

Prep for juicing in a professional juicer — I use my beloved Champion Juicer — the following ingredients:

1.5 lbs. of yellow onions

3 garlic bulbs (bulbs! not cloves)

15-2o habanero peppers

1 lb. of horseradish root, peeled

1 lb. of fresh ginger

Next, move your SuperTonic Plague Fighting making operations outside by an electrical outlet. (I am not kidding. You do not want to do this inside!) Start juicing. Be careful not to put your nose too close to the vapors. Do not strain the juice. Add equal parts unfiltered apple cider vinegar to the juice. Store in dark-colored glass bottles. Give some to friends. Keep the rest. (It can last for years!)

The ingredients are, individually and collectively, anti-bacterial, anti-viral and anti-everything else. To keep icky germs at bay: Add the SuperTonic to water, gargle with it then swallow it. Or, just drink it like a shot. (Best done in front of friends so they can watch your facial expression and laugh!)

Win a FREE bottle of SuperTonic

Win a free bottle of my Leap Year Day batch of SuperTonic Plague Fighter. Answer correctly: Which ingredient has the hottest vapors when juiced?

Burn and Blister Cure

I just read this article. Found it fascinating: egg whites to stop burn pain and prevent blistering. I’ve never used it as a cure, and I’m curious to know if anyone else had heard of (used) such a method. And with what degree of success … Home remedies, especially for urgent situations, interest me.

Geese Police Franchises Available

It’s time to get those fake-lake-lovin’ geese packing. And there appears to be money to be made in the process.

Be kind to the butterflies

They were pushing ‘weed.

Milkweed, that is.

I met some ladies at the Takoma Park Folklife Festival, and they explained to me that the monarch butterfly, which traverses crazy distances (3,200 miles) to chill with its homeboys in Mexico, needs milkweed to lay its eggs. See, not one butterfly flies the whole distance to Mexico. They migrate as far as they can, lay their eggs, die, and the next generation continues on the course. But with more and more development, there is less and less milkweed. This is, of course, a not-very-scientific explanation. Go to their pretty site, The Monarch Effect, for more info.

Even better, contact them, get yourself a plant or two, or a packet of seeds, and grow some ‘weed in your back yard. It’s a good thing. And, it’s easy being green.

After all, a true “green initiative” is something with a result, observable in Nature, imho.

Weed? Grass? What’s the difference?

Well, if you’re a human, “weed” and “grass” may seem to be the same thing. But if you were a goat … well, there’s a world of difference. And this distinction may provide some interesting options for controlling scrub.

Did you know? Goats prefer weeds over grass; they also seem to like sticky, thorny plants. Go figure. They even eat kudzu! I love ‘em already.

Strolling Amidst the Poison

I don’t expect this blog post to fall easily on most people’s ears. Or psyches.

I’m writing about the stink over the arsenic contamination at the to-be-developed land in the Turf Valley area.

I have a fair amount of experience in this subject, namely by having as a client, for many years, a company that manufacturers bioremediation products. (These products are a combination of microbes and other items that clean soil and water contamination.)

Stick it where it counts

As promised — and perhaps to few’s liking — I’m going to add my tidbits about little, tiny, tiny things I do to support my health. Writing these tidbits is one of my contributions to the “Healthy Howard” campaign. Here’s today’s –

Tea Tree Oil Toothpicks

What a bargain and all-around good deal. Get yourself a pack of these things and keep them on your person. Here’s why:

• The tea tree oil soaked into the toothpicks is a natural, oral antisceptic for controlling bacterial growth, and keeping periodontal disease at bay.
• The tea tree oil plus the toothpick is an instant, on-the-go toothbrush with minimal hassle.
• The toothpicks are well-milled and of high quality. (And the box is stylin’.)
• You’ll be a hit after lunch when you whip these things out and offer them to your dining companions.

If you’re local to Howard County, you can buy tea tree oil toothpicks at Roots Market. (Probably David’s Natural Food Market and MOM’s Organic Market, too, but I haven’t confirmed those.) I like the Thursday Plantation brand. You can also buy them online here.

And, if you’re really serious about your oral health, get Dr. Schulze’s Tooth & Gum Formula. For real.

Bag Ladies … and a new look

Cosmos raises the question / issue / conversation of reusable bags at stores (in one of his comments on “Read the Signs.”) I’m not going to link to online articles discussing the subject. I’m not going to point to the good or the bad. I just want to know: How do you, personally, if at all, navigate the lots-of-disposable-bags-being-dispensed-to-consumers subject?

Hey, here’s an option, and I quote,

Dubbed the No! Shopping Bag Bra, this lacy red undergarment has padded cups that when removed, transform into shopping bags that can be used to carry around your groceries, laundry, or other purchases and reduce the consumption of plastic bags in the process.

Click here for pictures of how it transforms into a bag.

Think they might come up with a comparable product for men? Peck packs? I’ll leave you to your imagination on other options.

But, back to the question at hand: What do you do (if anything) — today and now — without laws, rules, mandates or moralizing — about the volume of bags passed your way as a consumer?

It’s EZ Being Green

Folks, there’s a really ez way to reduce traffic congestion in the region. Get an EZ Pass. Having one accomplishes so much with so little, such as –

• Easing traffic congestion
• Reducing pollution (in the form of auto emissions from idled cars)
• Reducing the tax burden by reducing “man hours”

Let me show you just how simple it is –

1. Apply.
2. Select a dollar amount to start your account.
3. Fill out the forms for an automatic funds replenishment (dollar amount of your choice) when your account funds fall below a specific amount.
4. Attach the EZ Pass gizmo to your windshield, as directed, when it arrives.

See, it really is EZ.

And you get brownie points for being a good citizen.

Plus, it’s fun to zip through the fast-moving EZ Pass lane when hundreds (sometimes thousands) of other drivers are stuck in snails-pace traffic, waiting to pay a buck or two for their toll fee.

It’s a no-brainer. Really.

Apply today and do your part, ever so small … and ever so significant. It’s an easy (oh, I mean, ez) way to take responsibility for making a difference in our regional traffic congestion.