Saturday, May 25, 2013
In Search of Green...Gardening, Part 2, Weeds & Pests
Earlier this year, I stumbled across a lovely little bookshop in Ann Arbor called Crazy Wisdom Book Shop and Tea Room where I came across a book about controlling weeds without chemicals. Yep. A book about weeds. I gleaned a few things from it and I've already put weed prevention fabric on top of the soil in the raised beds (cuts out light, one thing weed seeds need to germinate). I've also been on the hunt for some more eco-friendly alternatives.
Through my research I've decided that I need corn gluten to prevent seeds from sprouting and I need to see if I can find an eco-friendly mosquito repellant as well as an animal repellant.
I found what I needed online but the cost of shipping 25 pounds of corn gluten was astronomical. Looking online I found that I can get these products from Home Depot, if not in-store then I could have it shipped to my local store for free if my order was over a certain amount. I was excited and last Tuesday my husband and I headed to our local store in search of eco-friendly products.
In order to look for these items, I had to go into the weed-prevention section and as I was standing there looking...I did find small bags of organic plant food but no corn gluten or animal repellant...I became aware of the smell of these products off-gassing into the store. I found nothing as far as weed prevention goes but I did find some organic mosquito repellant in body spray, a fogger and a lawn spray so I scooped those up and headed out into the garden section to continue my search. Giant bags of grass seed and lawn fertilizer dazzled my eyes and the chemical smell of the fertilizers filled my nostrils and I became aware of a burning in the back of my throat and a nauseous feeling in my belly, most likely caused by the sinus drainage created by breathing in the fumes. It took several hours for these feelings to dissipate and my resolution to not purchase these products was fortified.
Next stop: Ordering what I need and having it shipped to my local Home Depot for pick up!
In Search of Green....Gardening Part 1, Background
It's that time again! Time to plant the garden! With high hopes we would go to our local nursery, walk around for an hour picking out just the right tomato, pepper, squash, plants as well as whatever seeds and perennials caught our fancy. We would come home and spend the long Memorial Day weekend frantically tilling and digfing and planting and watering. We would step back with a sigh of satisfaction and look at our lovely garden and dream of the beautiful, fresh veggies we would harvest and enjoy.
Our vegetable garden consists of a raised bed in the back corner of the house that was created when the previous owners added on a family room at the back of their rectangular ranch house. My husband created it using three rows of those man-made, interlocking landscape stones. In it we always plant 4 tomato plants on the left which give us enough tomatoes to eat and share and the larger, right side is filled with strawberry plants, lily-of-the-valley, asparagus, mint and basil...if the basil is a perennial and came back. It's a hodgepodge that is slowly being taken over by grass and some viney thing with white trumpet flowers. I've never done much with this plot as far as weeding goes as I was always busy trying to keep up with my perennial beds and I didn't really do much in the gardens in June and July as it was too darn hot!
Two years ago our son had the idea of building two raised beds out in the middle of the yard so he and my husband built those with 1x8x10 pieces of wood and we filled that with topsoil. Our son learned a valuable lesson here: He was very anxious to get the beds finished so he insisted that the topsoil be delivered even though it was very rainy that week. For those of you who don't know, it is a bad idea to work in the garden when the soil is wet as it creates major clumps that can be as hard as rocks to break up. So the soil has been crusty and clumpy for the past two years. And, did I mention, full of weed seeds!
We have been composting for many years now and have two compost bins that are full, especially since we have been eating mostly vegan since last September. We never use pesticides or non-organic fertilizers or weed preventers and have been pretty unsuccessful in our crop yields. We had some beautiful acorn squash last year but I kind of lost my enthusiasm when I cooked one and tried to feed my daughter a cooked worm in hers....I don't think I cooked another squash that summer. Our strawberry crop looked amazing until something took all of the green strawberries...I'm guessing a chipmunk or small, red squirrel. It was very discouraging but, as the Spring comes each year, our hope sprouts anew and we step into the fray once more.
Monday, May 20, 2013
I'm Back!
Hello, it's me! I know it's been awhile, but somehow time just flew by and here it is, 2-1/2 years since my last post...wow! I hope this finds you happy and healthy! I have so much to share that it will take me awhile but at least I will have something to say and I promise, I will post at least four times a week. I hope you find this interesting and inspiring!
What have I been up to? Well in May 2011 I finished my yoga teacher training so I've been teaching yoga once a week at my favorite yoga studio as well as managing their website!
Last September my husband and I made a life-changing decision: We went mostly Vegan. What does 'mostly Vegan' mean anyway?
After reading Joel Fuhrman's book Eat to Live, I realized that he was right, those chronic diseases we live with every day--heart disease, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, diabetes--need to be treated as if they were emergency situations rather than just coexisting with them. We become complacent with these illnesses and accept them as part of our lives.
We went on his most extreme, 6-week program and miracles happened: Hub lost over 30 pounds and I lost 15. I cut my Metformin dose in half. My long range A1C blood sugar dropped to 5.8. We were feeling great!
After the 6-week program, we began eating more animal products, mostly dairy, and that sweet addiction, white sugar, began to creep back into my diet. The pounds crept back on and my blood sugar levels and cholesterol went up. I couldn't get myself motivated to exercise. I was in a bit of a funk for most of the winter!
So here we are in the last half of May...
#vegan #JoelFuhrman #yoga
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
In Search of President Lincoln
I just came back from a week in Washington, D.C. and I have to say that I am happy to be home. D.C. is an amazing city and I did not begin to make a dent in seeing everything there was to see. I did, however, get to see some amazing things. My husband was tied up in two conventions for the Project Management Institute so I was on my own much of the time...a rather daunting idea for a small-town girl like me.
My first full day on my own I caught the shuttle bus from our hotel and after a twenty-minute (or so) ride, there I was at the corner of 12th and Pennsylvania Avenue standing in front of the Old Post Office and a life-sized (if not larger) statue of Benjamin Franklin.
After being pointed in the right direction by our very helpful bus driver, I set off down Pennsylvania Avenue, turned right at 15th Street (I think) and found myself in front of the White House (well actually it was the BACK of the White House but it's the part we usually see on TV). After a few minutes of camera duty, off I went to the George Washington Monument. At 550 feet, it is a great landmark if you are kind of lost or at least a little unsure that you remember the directions correctly (trust me on that one!).
After a short walk on this beautiful sunny day, I found myself standing in front of the ticket office where I secured a free ticket to go inside the monument and take the elevator up to the top. I asked for directions (I seemed to have done a LOT of that this past week) to the restroom and, after successfully locating them and taking care of business, I turned my attention to the very large stone structure in front of me. I followed the sidewalk and slowly wound my way closer and closer and as I did so, I unexpectedly became aware of the fact that there were tears in my eyes. I blinked them away and realized that a part of me wanted to cry.
Filing that part of me away for future reference, I took my place in line, and as I waited my turn, struck up a conversation with a very nice retired couple from Massachusetts. The time passed quickly as we shared our stories about how we came to be where we were and we parted ways when their small group went up into the monument ahead of me. My turn came at last and up I went to see some pretty spectacular views of the city.
Upon returning to ground level, I set off down (up?) the mall to pay my respects to President Lincoln, not realizing that the object of my desire was further away than it appeared. I walked along in the bright sunshine and found myself at the World War II Memorial, an amazing creation, indeed!
Being a woman on a mission, I spent little time there as I could see my goal getting closer. However, I was there long enough to see the old men standing in small groups quietly talking, laughing, sharing their stories and having their pictures taken under the wreaths with their state's name engraved below them. I quietly said a prayer and a thank you for the sacrifices these men and women made so that I could live in freedom and I pushed onward.
As I walked along the reflecting pool, I began to realize just how far apart the Washington monument and Lincoln memorial really are. As I walked, I met up with the couple from Massachusetts again and, after making jokes about stalking, I propelled myself forward finally leaving the reflecting pool behind and standing at the bottom of the 58 steps leading to what I can only describe as the GINORMOUS Lincoln Memorial building.
One by one, I made my way up the steps, finding my pace slowing as I neared the summit; partially from fatigue but mostly from awe. I stepped into the building, made my way around the cool stone columns and there HE was. I stepped closer, tears filling my eyes and, perhaps, one or two sliding down my cheeks. I blinked and stepped up to the velvet ropes oblivious to those around me taking pictures and talking. I had no time for them. I was standing at the feet of Abraham Lincoln.
After just BEING in that moment of being awestruck and overwhelmed, I slowly made my way back down the steps and made my way to the Vietnam memorial. Again, I took in this famous landmark saying a prayer for all those names on the wall and their friends and families.
I have seen pictures of these places but nothing prepared me for seeing these things in person with my own eyes. Touching the cool stone, feeling the hush in these quiet places (even with people milling around them). I was actually HERE. This was REAL. These things were put here for ME and for every citizen of this great country. They were not created on a sound stage in Hollywood. This was not a work of fiction.
They exist not only as a way for us to honor those that they represent but to connect us to them. To give us a tangible THING to hold onto. We are physical beings, we need to use our senses to make things real. We need to see and touch and smell and hear (maybe not taste in this instance...) these things. I am beginning to realize the importance of preserving our past and perhaps, one day, I will be more inclined to actually set foot into a museum (not one of my favorite things to do) but until then, I certainly have a deeper understanding of why we have them and for that I am grateful.
Finding Joy in this (long-walked) Journey,
Susan
My first full day on my own I caught the shuttle bus from our hotel and after a twenty-minute (or so) ride, there I was at the corner of 12th and Pennsylvania Avenue standing in front of the Old Post Office and a life-sized (if not larger) statue of Benjamin Franklin.
After being pointed in the right direction by our very helpful bus driver, I set off down Pennsylvania Avenue, turned right at 15th Street (I think) and found myself in front of the White House (well actually it was the BACK of the White House but it's the part we usually see on TV). After a few minutes of camera duty, off I went to the George Washington Monument. At 550 feet, it is a great landmark if you are kind of lost or at least a little unsure that you remember the directions correctly (trust me on that one!).
After a short walk on this beautiful sunny day, I found myself standing in front of the ticket office where I secured a free ticket to go inside the monument and take the elevator up to the top. I asked for directions (I seemed to have done a LOT of that this past week) to the restroom and, after successfully locating them and taking care of business, I turned my attention to the very large stone structure in front of me. I followed the sidewalk and slowly wound my way closer and closer and as I did so, I unexpectedly became aware of the fact that there were tears in my eyes. I blinked them away and realized that a part of me wanted to cry.
Filing that part of me away for future reference, I took my place in line, and as I waited my turn, struck up a conversation with a very nice retired couple from Massachusetts. The time passed quickly as we shared our stories about how we came to be where we were and we parted ways when their small group went up into the monument ahead of me. My turn came at last and up I went to see some pretty spectacular views of the city.
Upon returning to ground level, I set off down (up?) the mall to pay my respects to President Lincoln, not realizing that the object of my desire was further away than it appeared. I walked along in the bright sunshine and found myself at the World War II Memorial, an amazing creation, indeed!
Being a woman on a mission, I spent little time there as I could see my goal getting closer. However, I was there long enough to see the old men standing in small groups quietly talking, laughing, sharing their stories and having their pictures taken under the wreaths with their state's name engraved below them. I quietly said a prayer and a thank you for the sacrifices these men and women made so that I could live in freedom and I pushed onward.
As I walked along the reflecting pool, I began to realize just how far apart the Washington monument and Lincoln memorial really are. As I walked, I met up with the couple from Massachusetts again and, after making jokes about stalking, I propelled myself forward finally leaving the reflecting pool behind and standing at the bottom of the 58 steps leading to what I can only describe as the GINORMOUS Lincoln Memorial building.
One by one, I made my way up the steps, finding my pace slowing as I neared the summit; partially from fatigue but mostly from awe. I stepped into the building, made my way around the cool stone columns and there HE was. I stepped closer, tears filling my eyes and, perhaps, one or two sliding down my cheeks. I blinked and stepped up to the velvet ropes oblivious to those around me taking pictures and talking. I had no time for them. I was standing at the feet of Abraham Lincoln.
After just BEING in that moment of being awestruck and overwhelmed, I slowly made my way back down the steps and made my way to the Vietnam memorial. Again, I took in this famous landmark saying a prayer for all those names on the wall and their friends and families.
I have seen pictures of these places but nothing prepared me for seeing these things in person with my own eyes. Touching the cool stone, feeling the hush in these quiet places (even with people milling around them). I was actually HERE. This was REAL. These things were put here for ME and for every citizen of this great country. They were not created on a sound stage in Hollywood. This was not a work of fiction.
They exist not only as a way for us to honor those that they represent but to connect us to them. To give us a tangible THING to hold onto. We are physical beings, we need to use our senses to make things real. We need to see and touch and smell and hear (maybe not taste in this instance...) these things. I am beginning to realize the importance of preserving our past and perhaps, one day, I will be more inclined to actually set foot into a museum (not one of my favorite things to do) but until then, I certainly have a deeper understanding of why we have them and for that I am grateful.
Finding Joy in this (long-walked) Journey,
Susan
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Montreal: An Adventure in Communication
Montreal is a very vibrant, lively city! We spent five days there at the end of July and really enjoyed just walking the streets, shopping, eating, riding their fabulous Metro system and just hanging out.
The biggest challenge was that the only one who spoke French in our group was our son who had four years in high school. What was wonderful was how willing people were to speak English with us, especially when they could see that we were really trying to speak French...perhaps they took pity upon us!
Along with having a lovely break from home and some quality time with my family, I found a much deeper level of compassion for those who come to the United States with very little English. Just reading a sign or a menu or buying a cup of coffee can become a major project. It is exhausting!
Had we been there longer than a week, the immersion in the culture and the language would have really started to turn things around for me and it would have gotten easier. As it was, we were willing to try and I found my vocabulary growing. Our son did a fabulous job but even he found his limitations of knowledge. I think that's the key: trying. I know I probably looked silly and my accent was atrocious, but I checked my ego at the door and chose to laugh at myself which gave the person I was attempting to talk to permission to laugh, too.
I hear a lot of people saying "This is America...we speak English here!" and I have to confess that I've felt that way on occasion but I've come to realize that it goes beyond language. We are all human. We are all in this together. We all have common ground and common bonds and we need to connect on the human level.
We need to try to meet halfway. If someone is here in the U.S. who speaks little or no English, we can still communicate. Willingness to try, laughter and a smile go a long way. It's challenging and exhausting but isn't it all about the connection?
My daughter is studying Japanese and we had the opportunity to host an exchange student from our school's sister school in Chiba, Japan (in fact, my daughter spent a week with her and her family this summer). Our house guest, a lovely sixteen-year-old girl, would light up when I would try to speak a word or two in Japanese. We spoke from the heart with smiles and hugs and mangled English and Japanese and we connected. We hugged each other and cried when our visit was over.
I made a suggestion to my family. I'm not sure it will happen, but they all liked the idea. We pick a language and get a computer program, such as Rosetta Stone, and we study the language and speak it in our home. The hardest part may be getting us to agree on a language...I'm willing to try.
Enjoy the Journey!
Susan
The biggest challenge was that the only one who spoke French in our group was our son who had four years in high school. What was wonderful was how willing people were to speak English with us, especially when they could see that we were really trying to speak French...perhaps they took pity upon us!
Along with having a lovely break from home and some quality time with my family, I found a much deeper level of compassion for those who come to the United States with very little English. Just reading a sign or a menu or buying a cup of coffee can become a major project. It is exhausting!
Had we been there longer than a week, the immersion in the culture and the language would have really started to turn things around for me and it would have gotten easier. As it was, we were willing to try and I found my vocabulary growing. Our son did a fabulous job but even he found his limitations of knowledge. I think that's the key: trying. I know I probably looked silly and my accent was atrocious, but I checked my ego at the door and chose to laugh at myself which gave the person I was attempting to talk to permission to laugh, too.
I hear a lot of people saying "This is America...we speak English here!" and I have to confess that I've felt that way on occasion but I've come to realize that it goes beyond language. We are all human. We are all in this together. We all have common ground and common bonds and we need to connect on the human level.
We need to try to meet halfway. If someone is here in the U.S. who speaks little or no English, we can still communicate. Willingness to try, laughter and a smile go a long way. It's challenging and exhausting but isn't it all about the connection?
My daughter is studying Japanese and we had the opportunity to host an exchange student from our school's sister school in Chiba, Japan (in fact, my daughter spent a week with her and her family this summer). Our house guest, a lovely sixteen-year-old girl, would light up when I would try to speak a word or two in Japanese. We spoke from the heart with smiles and hugs and mangled English and Japanese and we connected. We hugged each other and cried when our visit was over.
I made a suggestion to my family. I'm not sure it will happen, but they all liked the idea. We pick a language and get a computer program, such as Rosetta Stone, and we study the language and speak it in our home. The hardest part may be getting us to agree on a language...I'm willing to try.
Enjoy the Journey!
Susan
Friday, July 30, 2010
Coming Soon...Montreal: The Blog
After 7 years, we are taking a family vacation! My husband had to present a paper in Montreal this week so here we are: Me, my husband, our 17-yr-old daughter, our 20-yr-old son and his 18-yr-old girlfriend.
Details coming soon! I am typing this on hub's laptop at 3 a.m. as we're just too busy for me to get much computer time.
Susan
Details coming soon! I am typing this on hub's laptop at 3 a.m. as we're just too busy for me to get much computer time.
Susan
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
I'm Not Your Mother!
Last night my husband and I were at TJ Maxx. He sat down near the entrance to the mall and waited while I purchased a belt. Upon meeting up with him he pointed out two TJ Maxx shopping carts sitting in the middle of the entryway, 10 feet away from where the carts belong and he told me he had watched 2 people just leave them right there....
My son and I stopped at Starbucks on our way to Bass Pro Shop/Outdoor World. While my son shopped, I browsed and finished my drink and went off in search of a trash can. I didn't see one so I asked an employee who was standing nearby. He pointed one out behind me. I hadn't seen it because people were standing in front of it. The employee actually thanked me for throwing my cup away! He said that normally they would just find them sitting on shelves throughout the store....
A friend of mine told me about being at the gym and having to ask a man to remove the 50 lb. weights from a machine because they were too heavy for her to move and the dirty look he gave her....
I'm not even going to mention some of the stuff I've seen in public restrooms....
And people have been sticking chewing gum to the undersides of tables since, well, the invention of chewing gum...
What is up with that? Why do we feel that we are not responsible for our stuff? Why do we expect other people to clean up after us?
Now I must confess that I have set my cup or water bottle down and gotten distracted and walked away which is a different story. That's only because I can be a total airhead!
Is this getting worse or is it just me?
When was the last time you were out shopping and knocked something over? Did you pick it up? Did you walk by pretending it wasn't you? When was the last time you picked up something that somebody else knocked over?
I am at a loss as to why this is happening. I can think of some possibilities: apathy, laziness, irresponsibility, a feeling of entitlement to name a few.
So when we are out and about, let's remember that 'the other guy' is not our mother or our maid and take care of our own stuff!
Enjoy the journey...and help clean up the path!
Susan
My son and I stopped at Starbucks on our way to Bass Pro Shop/Outdoor World. While my son shopped, I browsed and finished my drink and went off in search of a trash can. I didn't see one so I asked an employee who was standing nearby. He pointed one out behind me. I hadn't seen it because people were standing in front of it. The employee actually thanked me for throwing my cup away! He said that normally they would just find them sitting on shelves throughout the store....
A friend of mine told me about being at the gym and having to ask a man to remove the 50 lb. weights from a machine because they were too heavy for her to move and the dirty look he gave her....
I'm not even going to mention some of the stuff I've seen in public restrooms....
And people have been sticking chewing gum to the undersides of tables since, well, the invention of chewing gum...
What is up with that? Why do we feel that we are not responsible for our stuff? Why do we expect other people to clean up after us?
Now I must confess that I have set my cup or water bottle down and gotten distracted and walked away which is a different story. That's only because I can be a total airhead!
Is this getting worse or is it just me?
When was the last time you were out shopping and knocked something over? Did you pick it up? Did you walk by pretending it wasn't you? When was the last time you picked up something that somebody else knocked over?
I am at a loss as to why this is happening. I can think of some possibilities: apathy, laziness, irresponsibility, a feeling of entitlement to name a few.
So when we are out and about, let's remember that 'the other guy' is not our mother or our maid and take care of our own stuff!
Enjoy the journey...and help clean up the path!
Susan
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