Reflections on another day at home

Well, there's freezing rain coming down this morning, and my fear of falling on ice is going to keep me inside for the time being. So I thought I'd share some random thoughts,  tips, and discoveries from my journey so far towards a simpler, more local lifestyle.

I don't miss the air traffic and accompanying noise. We lived near the airport in Cleveland, which was a good thing back when Tom was doing frequent business travel, but some days, our house was directly in the path of landing flights. And we would always know the exact moment when the Blue Angels came screaming in from Wright-Pat for the Labor Day Air Show.  Here, there are a few small planes and helicopters around, but the skies are much more quiet. On a clear summer evening, we can sit in the yard and look up (several miles up) and see lights and contrails from the flights heading south from perhaps Toronto to Margarita Land.


We're definitely closer to nature here. I never, ever in Cleveland walked out of a restaurant to discover a dead deer in the bed of a pickup parked next to my car. In all fairness, when I lived in Cleveland, I didn't frequent restaurants where most of the other patrons were wearing camouflage and blaze orange, either.

I live in a town where a stranger can be flagged down in the middle of the street and become an instant hero. This happened on Christmas Day when a disabled WWII vet was trapped inside his burning apartment. His neighbor could not get through the locked door and ran outside frantically seeking help. The stranger stopped, kicked in the door, and pulled the trapped man to safety.  Although I think I've always lived in places where people looked out for one another, it bolsters my faith in humanity to know that it happens here too.

DRYER BALLS. Wow, that's really random, isn't it? I discovered that two of these little babies, which cost about seven or eight bucks and last (they tell me) a couple of years, eliminate the need for fabric softener/dryer sheets by fluffing the fibers in your clothes, reducing static and drying time. Obviously, this is for people who haven't gone one step further by hanging their laundry on a clothesline to dry.


The "advantages" of a large metropolitan area are not all that. We aren't the kind of people who need crowds, but when we want to venture out here, there is a wonderful variety of activities available. Spectator sports (minor league, which translates into less expensive and more accessible), restaurants and coffee shops, art galleries, theater, music and ballet, the wineries and the brewery, everything outdoors, and if you crave a "higher level" of culture (and want to pay for it), the Chautauqua Institution provides world class fare every summer.  The rest you can get from television, if you must.

Walls aren't just for painting and hanging pictures anymore. I'm learning much about vertical storage.

Are shopping malls dead yet?  I would so love to see these dinosaurs transformed into indoor versions of Main Street USA, with local businesses selling useful goods and services. Am I the only one who thinks this way?

Holidays are better when spent with family. We're already working on plans to make that happen next year.

Stuff, continued

I've been staying at home a lot this week and have been on a mission to unpack boxes, further reduce my "stuff," and devise creative strategies for using my small space efficiently.

"Functionality" is the key word. If it's just taking up space, do I really need it?  I'm donating lots of stuff that others may find more useful to them than it is to me. Not "junk," but good stuff like gently used clothing and books, window treatments that don't fit the new windows, excess kitchen wares and linens that have just...accumulated over the past twenty or thirty years.

On the other hand, I'm not giving up ALL my stuff, not yet. I enjoy making things, and I'm not ready to part with the stash I've built up of "craft materials."  I'm having to become much more organized in storing things than I have been in the past, however.

Ditto with my collection of writing papers--I used to be an avid letter writer, an activity that has fallen on hard times with the advent of real time electronic communications. But I'm accepting this challenge from one of my favorite blogs and it should help me reduce my stationery supply:

“One piece of “real” mail sent out each week. It can be a letter, a postcard, a care package, a thank you note, handmade art, etc. I’m searching for all of the cards and stationery I have collected over the years and gathering them into one place with pens, envelopes (regular & padded), lots of stamps (.28 & .44), a glue stick, unlined index cards (great for making postcards), and a few USPS Small Flat Rate boxes. Oh, and I’m updating my address book.”

Then there are all the photographs and keepsakes...that have been in this box and that one, waiting for the day when they will become organized into albums and scrapbooks. Oh wait, that doesn't happen by itself one night while I am sleeping?  Oops, I guess I'd better add that day to my schedule pretty soon.

I've decided it's my job to deal with my own stuff here and now because, although I'm planning to be around for another twenty or thirty years, time flies and you can't take your stuff with you when you go. My kids have their own stuff and don't need to have mine dumped on them too.

Celebrating the Season

Rejoice! The Winter Solstice has arrived.  Now, the minutes and hours of daylight increase as our earth moves towards the renewal of spring. It's going to be cold for a while here in WNY, but we've turned the corner, in the larger scheme of things, and now we can pore over our seed catalogs and garden books and plan for the warmer days ahead.

On another level, most of us are preparing to celebrate Christmas (whether in the Christian sense or the more pervasive secular one that our consumer society has taken to extremes) and it's easy to get overwhelmed with "stuff" at this time of year.

We've dialed back our consumerism significantly here--speaking for myself,  I've always experienced the most joy from giving to others and being with family.  In my family, that means sharing food and each others' company, and it's a warm, fuzzy time that is eagerly anticipated.

Sadly, our adult children live on opposite coasts and are not able to be physically present for this year's holiday celebration, but we are together in thought and spirit. Thanks to the modern wonders of technology (which we have at this time anyway, though there are concerns about the future of the internet), we can also communicate across the miles.

But getting back to the "stuff"--there is definitely more stuff in the house these days. Gifts, boxes, wrappings, ribbons, we even have a small "Charlie Brown" style tree, and stockings hung over the fireplace. The comfort of some traditions outweighs the inconvenience of continuing them in small spaces.  Soon, the gifts will be shipped (I always manage to be a little late) and the seasonal clutter of wrappings, etc. can be returned to storage in the garage.

Then we'll be back to our usual conundrum of deciding what is functional and what is just "stuff" and how to best rearrange our lives in a new normal.

Peace to all.

More on small houses and stuff

I like snow, but I usually prefer to enjoy it from the the cozy comfort of my living room, near the fireplace.

I've had plenty of opportunity to do that this past week, as the lake effect snow machine has been mostly stuck in the "on" position. The dog loves it.  (Maybe not as much as these guys.)  I like my winter outings in small doses. So this is a great time for reading, crafting, and cooking. 

I've been reading a fascinating book called Little House on a Small Planet and it's helping me navigate my ponderings on how much living space we actually require.  

Have you ever stopped to ask yourself why we Americans think we need so much space that we seldom use and then proceed to fill it up with stuff we don't need?

How many plans for home improvements and modifications have been scrapped because, although they are perfectly suited to our tastes and purposes, are not statistically desirable enough to the majority of potential home buyers in the event we want to sell the house?

When did our residences as investments and symbols of our social status supersede the concept of our houses as our homes?  And must we be so lemming-like in embracing this dysfunctional groupthink?


Once you start to ask these questions, the dominos start falling.   I'm no advocate of asceticism, I think design and art and ornamentation are important expressions of who we are and how we see the world.  But, those things come from within ourselves, not from House Beautiful and HGTV. 

It's liberating when you can let go of how things should be, because that's what "people like us" do, and we won't be held in high esteem if we are too unconventional or, God forbid, unfashionable.

WOW. Maybe it's time to throw out the magazines and turn off the TV and find ourselves. We get this one, short life and we allow other people so much control over it.

If that sounds like an anti-community sentiment, it isn't. Communities of strength are voluntary, not coercive.

Supporting local business--the exploration continues

We did a little exploring over the weekend in our continuing quest to discover the "local" community. The Chautauqua Ave. merchants in the village of Lakewood held their "Christmas in the Village" holiday open house event. It was the perfect opportunity to check them out.  We've had lunch at Hungry Hannah's a couple of times, since we prefer the little moms and pops to chain restaurants, but we really don't do a lot of shopping.

So it was very pleasant to discover Off the Beaten Path, the indie bookstore owned and operated by Holly Richardson at 28 Chautauqua. We've seen most of our favorite little bookstores fold, as giants like Borders, Barnes and Noble, and especially Amazon.com have taken over the market. We're really, really fans of the local library.  But knowing that there is this welcoming space with a friendly and knowledgeable owner who has the most interesting selection of books makes me feel inclined to visit again. There are author events, and now, there is coffee next door (in the same building), as local  RydersCup Coffee has relocated from their former store on Fairmount.

I now feel obligated to also give a shout out to the Labyrinth (their website seems to be under sonstruction but they have a Facebook page here) at 12 E.4th Street in Jamestown, which was an instant favorite the first time we visited.  This place has a gritty urban funk vibe in the sense of the old coffeehouses where people hung out and listened to live music. In fact, Labyrinth does host bands and poetry and movie nights, but Tom and I really aren't night people. We go there because the coffee and soup are the best in town.

Back to Lakewood. A small craft fair in the community center building  had an impressive array of refreshments and offered free photos with Santa. We had our first taste of locally made (for almost 80 years) Peterson's Candies and it was good. And I met a very talented jewelry designer who is also a neighbor. Susan Hedberg  operates An Added Touch, and makes her own ceramic pieces for use in some of her designs,which she sells online at Etsy and at local art/craft venues. You can see some of her work on FlickR.

We drove by George Gustafson's place at 2505-07 Quaint Rd. in Falconer on our weekly trips to pick up our CSA shares over the summer. George has been producing pure maple syrup for more than 30 years and offers a whole range of maple products in addition to his "Chautauqua Gold" at several locations in the area.

Good discoveries. And of course we were already fans of Southern Tier.

Holiday Magic

Winter doesn't check the calendar before it decides to show up, and show up it did this week in western NY. You probably saw the news about people stranded in cars on the NY Thruway for up to 15 hours as the Buffalo area got buried under three feet of snow.

It's winter here in Chautauqua county too, minus the horror stories. Our world has become a Currier and Ives winter wonderland scene with white fluffy stuff cosmetically coating every surface.

By five o'clock on Friday, beautiful fluffy flakes were gently falling everywhere, and it was time for the magic to begin.  So we layered up and went dashing through the snow down to Third Street for the Jamestown Christmas parade and other festivities. A good time was in the air, and  even the neighborhood deer seemed to be heading in that direction.

The sight downtown answered the question: yes, Virginia, there are, still,  communities where people, thousands of them, leave the cozy sanctuaries of their homes and come together in the streets to celebrate. We arrived at the stage in front of City Hall, where the crowd was jammin' to the beat of the hometown band, 10,000 Maniacs. It was the first time I've ever seen a band performing in parkas, but hey, when in Rome...!

There was the official tree lighting, and the national anthem, ending with fireworks and a "Starflight" helicopter flyover in tribute to our troops. We may not hear much about them on TV, but in towns like Jamestown, they lead the parade.

Ah yes, the parade. It was magical, like something out of  "A Christmas Story."  The high school band, the scouts, churches, community organizations, local businesses, and almost every fire department in the area (some of them dragging their antique trucks out of mothballs for the occasion)--diverse segments of the community all came and participated, with  floats they spent hours lovingly creating, and all manner of vehicles decked out in holiday decorations (lemme tell ya, you ain't seen nothing until you've seen a line of construction vehicles, decorated from head to toe in lights and garlands). There was candy distributed, and a release of helium-filled balloons, and the peculiar cacaphony of firetrucks  flashing their lights and sounding off, which children seem to love.  And, of course, Santa Claus.

I have to say...we had FUN! Without spending a dime. Though the street vendors were there with coffee, hot chocolate, cookies, and the usual light wands and gewgaw for those inclined to indulge.

This stuff never happened in the suburbs, but echoes of my small town childhood were there on Third Street.

I'd love to share some of our winter beauty with you in photographs, but I'm not all that talented with a camera. Therefore, I'd like to introduce you to  Jennifer Schlick, a teacher-naturalist at our local Audubon center, and her amazing nature photography.  Click here and enjoy!

Buying Local

I have mixed feelings about this promotion by the Chautauqua County Chamber of Commerce. On the surface, it's a great idea--shop locally, support businesses in the community (as opposed to spending your dollars in some other city--and with the popularity of internet shopping these days, some of those other cities are pretty far away), help your neighbors prosper. Awesome.

On the other hand, it comes down to the question, what exactly do you mean by LOCAL?  Geographic location, local ownership, locally produced goods and services? Naturally, the more "local" you get, the greater the benefit to the local community. The chamber's definition of local is the most broad definition, since participants include the local Wal-Mart stores.

In defense of that, these stores do employ local people and in that sense do contribute to the overall well-being of the community.  However, these stores are obviously not owned by local people and offer very little in the way of locally produced goods.

We've been lulled into complacency (like frogs in a pot of boiling water) about our gradual slide from a self-reliant, production centered society to a consumer-centered one, helplessly dependent on goods produced elsewhere and delivered to us via a long and expensive (soon to be much more expensive) supply line.  Thus overextended, very little is being done to dial us back to a more sustainable level of living.

I think it's important for the frogs who have managed to jump out of the pot to begin looking around now for local, sustainable sources of needed goods and services, and beat the stampede. Even as someone new to this community,  I'm probably not starting far behind people who have lived here for their entire lives.

By the way, the chamber's list barely scratches the surface of local.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

The holiday season is upon us, and I don't feel that I have any brilliant insights to offer.

We spent an unfortunate amount of time last week in the car in order to spend Thanksgiving with our grandson and his parents. We had a wonderful time with them, but the geographical distance separating us from those we most want to be with is depressing. Reality bites.

Now I am busy gathering goodies (not shopping for useless "stuff") for the packages I will ship to the family that won't be home for Christmas this year.

Truth is, I'm not even sure where "home" is right now. For the past twenty or so years, our home in Cleveland was the bustling gathering place for the whole extended family to eat, drink, exchange gifts, and be merry together. I would wake up on the morning of the 24th and spend the entire day in eager and purposeful preparation of a feast for the eventful eve.

But that isn't happening this year, and our move is part of the reason for that, as well as the reality that children grow up, move, have their own families, and life changes. My siblings and I will still have a family gathering, this time at my brother's house back in Cleveland, during Christmas week, and it will be a good time. But, for the first time ever, I will have only a tiny Christmas tree, because there's really no room for a larger one in our small house.

Adjustments...and wondering when we will arrive at a new normal and what it will look like.

Straight Talk about Peak Oil with James Howard Kunstler

No, I didn't speak with him---I can only wish. I've long been a fan of Kunstler's pull-no-punches social criticism, and this interview with Chris Martenson is so good that I am compelled to share it with you. Enjoy!

The Questions:

1. When will the average US citizen wake up to the perils of Peak Oil?

2. There seems to be no political will to tackle the reality of Peak Oil. What might tip that balance (before we hit the proverbial wall)?

3. If you were President and had free reign, what would be your energy plan?

4. Now take out your crystal ball. What is the most likely scenario you see playing out in global energy supplies over the next few decades?

5. The economy's a mess. What's the best possible outcome to this and how does it come about?

6. What steps are you currently taking in preparations for the upcoming “post-peak” years? What do you advise to those simply looking to protect the purchasing power of their current wealth?

7. Are you able to tell (either based on your website viewership or book sales, or from any other source) in which parts of the country/population your teachings are gaining the most traction?

8. You speak to a lot of audiences and groups. What has shifted over the years and what, if anything, gives you hope in those trends?

9. It seems inevitable that the suburbs (with 60-mile commutes) and places like LA will suffer badly in a Peak Oil future. Do you still hold the view that some regions are going to fare substantially better than others?

10. What question didn’t we ask, but should have? What’s your answer?

The Answers.

The Story of Electronics

Just in time for holiday shopping...h/t Katy.

The Gales of November

I think I just saw the Wicked Witch of the West zip past on her broomstick.

There's a wind advisory today, something that the weather service issues when sustained winds of 31-39 mph are forecast, with gusts in the 46-57 mph range.  We just had one of those gusts.

Although stormy weather in November isn't unusual in and of itself, and in fact has been immortalized in a song by Gordon Lightfoot ("The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," about the freighter that sank in a gale on Lake Superior in November 1975), the frequency and intensity of extreme weather events worldwide is increasing. We are moving towards a new normal.

It makes me glad for my low-profile house.

Moving on without segue, I've decided  I'm not flying anymore (except maybe by broomstick). Not that I was ever a huge fan of air travel.  But in a world that has gone insane over the fear of terrorists (a fear that has prompted responses far out of proportion to the actual threat and caused more pain and suffering than the terrorists themselves), subjecting myself to sexual molestation by security screeners so that I may have the privilege of being strapped into a crowded tin can to get from Point A to Point B (suffering delays, lost luggage, bad air, and annoying people) is one pleasure I can choose to forego.

I was outraged to see this story about  TSA patting down a screaming toddler. If we've become that paranoid about our safety, then it's time to rethink a lot of things about the way we choose to live.


Off to yoga for a mood adjustment.

Midweek musing

Indian Summer -- or something like it -- has arrived.

It's not really "warm" (high 52 degrees yesterday), but the blue skies and sunshine are just too irresistible, and we had to spend some time outdoors in this nature lovers paradise.  So we leashed up the dog and hiked the part of the Eastside Overland Trail that goes to the camping area with pond and lean-to's.  Being the non-athletic one in the family, I thought I would die when the first half mile of the trail was uphill. Tom and the dog put on their teflon suits and ignored my whining. Finally the trail leveled out and, with me having survived the climb, the rest of the adventure turned out to be quite enjoyable. The woods are beautiful even after most of the leaves have fallen.

Studies seem to confirm that being close to nature has a positive effect on both physical and mental health, and I  anecdotally concur.  Modern technology provides us with illusions that we have transcended the animal kingdom and now control our world, but Mother Nature smiles (and sometimes glares or snarls) knowingly.

Not that technology isn't useful. Bill McKibben makes clear that the kind of community he envisions for our future includes not only the folks on the block, but the ones we reach via the internet.  The sharing of ideas is so vital to our success in navigating our changing world.

I love, love the internet --not only because I'm an information junkie and cherish being able to find the answer to almost any question right here on my computer screen.  This wonderful invention has also enabled me to know people I would otherwise never have met. Even more importantly, it helps me keep in touch with friends and family members who live at a distance,  much better than letters and phone calls.  I was able to chat on Facebook almost daily with my son during his year in Iraq, which made the whole experience slightly more bearable.  I can keep up with daily lives via photos posted online or emailed to me. And last night, thanks to Skype, we had a face to face video conversation with our little grandson in Boston!  When you can see them in real time, somehow they don't seem quite so far away.

I would be sad if we lost the internet in our powered-down future, or (more likely) if it became restricted so that only powerful elites were given access to it.  It could happen. But it's a small problem in the grand scheme of things.

Worse is the looming specter of our planet becoming unfit for human habitation because we think we can outsmart nature.

The Small House

We live in a small house--600 square feet small.

It was originally intended to be transitional, a weekend getaway kind of place where we could stay without issues about where to leave the "kids" (our dog and cat) while we explored and got better acquainted with the area. Then, when we sold our house in Cleveland, we could look for a "bigger smaller" place--i.e., smaller than the house in Cleveland that we're downsizing from (4 bedrooms, 2 baths, and nearly 3000 sq. ft. including the finished basement space), but bigger than this tiny "cottage." But the place has kind of grown on us, and now we're trying to figure out how to make it work.

We have one bedroom, one bath, a kitchen, and a living room. No basement. I have learned that that is considered almost "spacious" by "tiny house" standards--there is indeed a tiny house industry for people who want to minimize their footprint on this earth, and these homes range from about 65 sq. ft. (!) to 800 on the "high end." It's certainly a matter of perspective--considering the average size of a home in Tokyo (800 sq ft) or a tent in Haiti. Here in the US, we've been conditioned to expect MORE. In a consumer society, we rarely entertain soul searching about what constitutes ENOUGH.

Well, rowing against the tide, Tom and I are working on that ENOUGH thing. How much do we really need? I wouldn't call us pack rats, but when you spend 22 years in a large home, "stuff" accumulates to fill the available space. Downsizing from 3000 sq. ft. to 600--you do the math. There's not much room for "stuff." Are we ready to take The 100 Thing Challenge? No, we're a long way from there. But it's a good direction to be moving in. It's very liberating to sort through "stuff" and realize how much of it you don't need anymore--both in the physical sense and in an emotional, even spiritual, one.

We've built a garage--besides storage, it provides workshop space. (Remember, no basement here.) We really feel that we need a couple more rooms. The space is surprisingly adequate, even comfortable, for the two of us (plus the dog and cat), but it gets crowded if we have company or if I try to work on my crafts.

I know we're fortunate to have options we wouldn't have in other parts of the world about how much space we can occupy, but I don't know if we're really tiny house people. For a look at how four people and a dog can live in 180 sq ft--check out this article, with photos! I have a hard time wrapping my head around it. I've come to believe that smaller is better, but there's a lot of wiggle room in my definition of "smaller."

I don't miss all the cleaning.

Would you like to know about The Meatrix?

Winterized! Almost...

We cut the grass for the last time this year and put away the mower, garden tools, hoses, and outdoor furniture.

The new windows make storm windows unnecessary this year, though some weatherstripping around the front door would probably be a good idea.  

Got wood for heating the garage workshop, blankets, sweaters, coats, gloves, boots...

We don't exactly have the food thing  under control. Oh sure, Wegman's is nearby, but they're dealing with supply lines like everyone else. Stuff doesn't grow here in the winter--the food shares from our CSA stopped a couple of weeks ago. And while I've got a decent supply of potatoes, onion, garlic, and winter squashes at the moment, it has occurred to me  (many times) that if this eating locally thing is going to work out, we need to learn how to store up food for the non-growing season.

It's kind of scary to realize just how unprepared most of us are for disruptions in our (long) food supply lines--which can happen short term, in case of a really big snow or ice storm or other natural disaster, and longer term, in the event that a sharp increase in the cost and/or a drastic decrease in the supply of oil--which our entire system runs on, from factory farms to warehouses to markets. I read somewhere recently (if you'd like a really scary example)  that the city of Los Angeles has on hand at any given time (including in warehouses) only a three-day supply of food for its entire population. That exemplifies just how dependent we are on keeping the machinery in motion, nonstop.

Well, we can't go on this way. Oil is a dwindling resource, and the rapid industrialization of giants like India and China are giving us a lot more competition these days for what's left.  Not that you would know, from observing how our governments choose to deal with this situation, that we need to be moving in high gear towards alternatives in the way we live. I guess the thinking is that whoever kills off the rest of the competition is the winner. Downright Darwinian.

So, the proactive thing to do, if you're not really crazy about this "eat or be eaten" scenario, is to look around you and find your local sources of food. We're pretty fortunate here in Chautauqua county to have lots of farms. We can even grow some of our own food in our gardens, and that really cuts the supply line, farm to table, to a matter of feet--both in distance and means of transport.   Of course some of us will keep drinking coffee from thousands of miles away as long as we can get away with it!

But again, our growing season here is limited, which means storing up food for the months when the local pickings are slim. I started small this year, to prove that I could do it--I made strawberry jam from local berries and applesauce from the fruit of our ancient gnarly backyard trees. Those jars of organic goodness are beautiful to look at, and we'll be enjoying them when the wind is howling and the snow is swirling outside our windows.


But we cannot live on strawberry jam and applesauce alone, so next year I'd better step it up and fill some jars and freezer containers with beans and greens, tomato sauce, and a chicken or two.

It's ironic that our progressive modern lifestyle with all its work-saving conveniences has left us so vulnerable when it comes to taking care of ourselves.

About this thing called community

What is this "community" we are seeking?  I find myself wanting to write about it, yet I haven't quite determined how to articulate it.  I'll be working on a definition and refining it as I go along, I think. Plunging right in, for now...

 com-mu-ni-ty:  a unified body of individuals: as  

a : state, commonwealth

b : the people with common interests living in a particular area; broadly : the area itself 

c : an interacting population of various kinds of individuals (as species) in a common location 

d : a group of people with a common characteristic or interest living together within a larger society

e : a group linked by a common policy

f : a body of persons or nations having a common history or common social, economic, and political interests  g : a body of persons of common and especially professional interests scattered through a larger society

We began attending the local Unitarian Universalist church here this fall, and it is proving to be the obvious choice for us (since we have been UU's for more than 30 years) as a network to plug into and find people with whom we have values and interests in common.

This week's sermon and post-service discussion was about Bill McKibben's book Eaarth, about the global warming crisis that most people are in denial about, and how we, as individuals and as a congregation, can respond.

It's exciting to have finally connected with some people--right here, locally, not on the internet!-- who share the very concerns which caused me to launch this blog in the first place.  There is promise for future discussions and actions toward living responsibly,even happily, with the new conditions we are already experiencing on our changing planet.  And I'm not feeling quite so isolated now.

When you move to a new community,  there's this whole watching and listening and getting-to-know-you process that takes place while you figure out who's who and what's what.  It's somewhat jarring to be the new kid on the block when you're accustomed to being an active,  known, and respected member of the community you came from.

Some people move around a lot during their lifetimes, often for employment reasons, and they develop a knack for unplugging from the old, plugging into the new networks, and instantly becoming part of the flow.

But Tom and I aren't those people. We're the type that tends to grow roots. This is only our third major move in our entire lives. It's difficult leaving "the people in your neighborhood" (I can hear the Mister Rogers song in my head) that you've known and trusted for so many years and moving on. A lot of people don't do this. We decided, for a lot of reasons, that we needed to.

Things don't remain the same forever, no matter how comfortable you may be. Family has always been an important part of our lives. They're the people that are still there when friends and neighbors move away--or die. We observed my mother's community evaporate around her as she outlived all of her contemporaries. Thank goodness for family.

So, facing retirement in a house too big and the kids too far away, we needed to be proactive.  They're still too far away, and no doubt there are more moves in our future. But for now, we've taken this step and this is where we are.

Becoming part of a new community, post-work and post-children, is uncharted territory for us.  So far, we've gotten to know some of our neighbors (especially the ones who have dogs), dealt with businesses, found places and activities we enjoy, but still don't have, for instance, a family doctor here. It will all fall into place in time. Circles will widen and overlap. In the meantime, in finding this church community, we have found an oasis of familiarity in the sea of change.  It's comforting.

To be continued, of course.

Our brave new world

We've enjoyed another beautiful week of autumn and a very busy, but great, weekend that included dining out with friends both old and new.  In our travels, we managed to visit the Chautauqua Energy Conference and Expo and collect a boat load of information. Rather, a couple of Wegmans reusable grocery bags full of information.  Lots of freebies, including a bag of compact fluorescents and weatherization goodies (window film, outlet draft stoppers, weatherstripping) from National Fuel, a coloring and activity book about water conservation, more reusable shopping bags, and the the usual reams of brochures and articles (I hope some of them were printed on recycled paper). It's going to take me a little while to read through and digest everything.

There seems to be a lot of emphasis on conserving energy, with government rebates as incentives-- Energy Star appliances, more efficient heating and cooling systems, better windows and doors, more insulation, tankless hot water heaters, etc.  There's also a tantalizing array of wind,solar, and geothermal options now available, and a "green" building (including straw bale construction) industry gaining ground, although the current costs of these technologies are prohibitive for most people.


In the gadget department, on the other hand, there are many fun, cool, and affordable little solar gizmos available, and there was a vendor who had a variety of them on display--various kinds of chargers and lighting, including this awesome little blinkie for bicycles.

Speaking of which, I would like to see more on transportation alternatives (not just hybrid automobiles) at future energy shows, as well as a presence of the local food/grow your own and compost/recycle elements. Surely these must be recognized as important components of saving energy and saving our planet.

Side note: there was a solar cooker on display, and coincidentally we had a conversation with someone at our church over the weekend whose daughter is involved with the Haiti Solar Oven Project.  We talked about the simplicity of making your own with aluminum foil as the reflective material (this seems like something I should have learned at Girl Scout camp), which led to my googling and finding an amazing variety of plans online.

I may now have to conduct some experiments of my own.

Glorious autumn

This past week has been a picture perfect illustration of why I love this season so much. And, except for the one day that it rained, we've spent most of it outdoors.

The fall colors have reached their peak. There are few things more beautiful than the tapestry of brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows (intermingled with the deep green pines) against a clear blue sky. When backlit by the setting sun, they glow like fire.

We walked on the beach (where our dog charges the incoming waves and tries to bite them, then looks baffled because there's nothing but water in his mouth), on trails in the woods and across a field, had a picnic lunch at an overlook park, did some cleanup in the garden, just any excuse to breathe in that crisp autumn air and partake of all the natural beauty.

I'm compelled to pick up individual leaves and wonder at them. The maple ones look painted.

Yesterday, on a drive through the rolling hills of this amazing countryside, we came upon an award-worthy photo op sight (too bad we left our cameras at home)--two young Amish farmers standing in their horse-drawn wagon in a field, against the back drop of dozens of wind turbines on the ridge that lay beyond.

Wind farms have been springing up in western NY in recent times. Wind is something we have in abundance, and is only likely to become stronger as our planet warms. This particular installation, in Wyoming county, produces enough energy to power more than 33,000 homes. Clean energy.

One cattle rancher who receives lease payments from the power company to host one of their turbines on his land (about 1,500 feet from his house) says the noise is minor. And, "the cattle actually seem to like it."

10/10/10 and Eaarth

I've been away with limited internet access this week while our new windows were being installed.

I feel remiss in not having written about the 10/10/10 Global Work Party events, but I'm a neophyte as far as organized events go. I'm still learning and getting plugged in to the pulse of what's happening out there.

Today's events are the culmination of a call to action by 350.org, founded by environmental activist Bill McKibben to raise awareness about the need for us to restore our atmosphere, rapidly, to less than 350 parts per million of CO_2.    

This is regarded by scientists, climate experts, and progressive national governments as the safe upper limit for carbon dioxide in our atmosphere. Already we are at 392 ppm and moving toward tipping points and irreversible impacts such as the melting of the Greenland ice sheet and major methane releases from melting permafrost.

This little video animation makes the point succinctly:

Since our policymakers lack the political will to take the necessary actions in a timely fashion, today's events constitute a grassroots demonstration (thousands of local events worldwide) that says to governments, Look! This is what we're doing. It's time for you to get to work too!

The closest thing to local that we have going on today are a variety of events sponsored by the SUNY Fredonia Campus Climate Challenge. Buffalo is hosting a bicycle workshop, for volunteers to rebuild bicycles and get them back out into the community.

And by the way, if you don't read anything else all year, you MUST read McKibben's new book, Eaarth.  It is an absolutely essential guide to the new era we find ourselves in. Old habits die hard, but they do not work anymore and we must have the courage to change. Not the kind of rah rah campaign sloganeering change that swept up so many people in the last election, but the real kind that means each of us has to start behaving differently.

I've been thinking

Hello out there. I've been keeping my thoughts inside my own head for the past week. Thus, no new posts here.


I've been reading and thinking about some of HUGE issues, like WATER and ENERGY, and those can get pretty overwhelming. You don't know how much you don't know until you start researching something.

We tend to take for granted that our water will always be there when we turn on the tap or flush the toilet. Yesterday morning our power went out for a short time, and it brought home the fact that, in this household, we require electricity to pump our water out of  the ground. We don't have a Plan B in case the grid fritzes out like it did in the summer of 2003.

Furthermore, I learned that the city of Jamestown gets their public water supply from two underground wells. Not that this is a huge big deal, but having lived for most of my life on Lake Erie, and now on Chautauqua Lake (and still in the shadow of the Great Lakes), I grew up with an assumption that "water comes from lakes."  And closely behind that one, an assumption that "civilizations grow near water."  What's to think about?

How about energy?  Are there any other ways we can rape and pillage the earth to extract non-renewable fossil resources to fuel our short-sighted lifestyles? Ta-da! Marcellus Shale is the rock formation that extends throughout the Appalachian Basin and contains huge, largely untapped natural gas reserves. Ah, but how to recover this resource from the rock?  Hydraulic fracturing technology, aka "fracking," involves drilling a wellbore deep into the rock and then pumping in fluids at a rate that causes fracturing to extend the crack deeper into the formation.  This is not a new technology, but its use in the Marcellus formation raises a whole host of health and environmental issues, ranging from the amount of surface water needed for the operation to the contamination of the air, soil, and ground water (drinking water) due to the toxic chemicals used in the process and the toxic waste materials produced by it.

Not that everyone worries about little things like that.

Which brings me to another issue. A wind farm in Chautauqua county seems like a no brainer to me.  Granted, I am a newbie here, dancing as fast as I can to get up to speed on all the local who, what, why, when, and where. We have the wind, there seems to be plenty of land available, why is money being wasted on development plans for a new coal-fired power plant in Jamestown when that is so last century?  Are elected officials required to lack vision? 

No impact

I watched an interesting documentary this weekend, called "No Impact Man."  If you subscribe to Netflix, you can watch it on your computer. You can also read Colin Beavan's blog here.

In a nutshell, Manhattan writer Colin Beavan, doing research for a book, decides to eliminate his personal impact on the environment for one year, dragging his wife and two-year-old daughter along for the ride. It means buying only local food, turning off the electricity, no television, no elevators, no cars, busses, or airplanes, no toxic cleaning products, no material consumption, and no garbage.

It is a fascinating look at how much we take for granted in our lifestyles that are out of step with about 75% of the people on this planet.  How much stuff do we actually need, and what is each of us personally willing to change to lessen our impact on the environment?  Do we even know what choices are available to us, or do we just go with the flow?


Obviously, most people are not going to wake up one morning and begin a radical lifestyle change.  Change is painful and undertaken in painfully slow baby steps. Even when that change is extremely beneficial--like exercise. It hurts when you start. You have to force yourself to keep doing it until you get the rust out and start to believe that maybe those muscles really do work after all. Eventually, you feel so great that you wonder why you didn't start doing this years ago.


I realize that I am still a neophyte in my quest for sustainability. We are enjoying the local food choices available to us, but do I really want to give up coffee and chocolate?  I can reduce my electricity use, but would I ever voluntarily turn it off altogether? I got over my retail addiction years ago, and enjoy treasure hunting for secondhand whatever-I-need at thrift stores, garage sales, ebay, craigslist.  (And I am finding that what I "need" at this point in my life is actually very little.) We recycle lots, but still...we are sending too much to the landfill.

Landfills are bad. Why are they bad? Well, all that garbage packed tightly together in a sealed space takes an awfully long time to decompose, so we can't make it disappear fast enough for the rate at which we are producing it.  And while it is decomposing, it emits a lot of methane gas, which has a much more harmful impact on the environment than carbon dioxide.  (Plus, a lot of the stuff we are putting into those landfills, like plastics, will not decompose in many lifetimes.)


So how do we make less garbage?  

First of all, by bringing less of it into our households to begin with. How much packaging does an item need?  At one end, this is a design problem on the part of the producer. At the other, it is a consumer choice. How do we send a message to the producers that we don't want all that packaging? Don't buy it.  Choose to buy things that are minimally packaged--unwrapped produce, items packaged in paper, which can be composted--or things which can be dispensed into reusable containers (items from bulk bins).  Say no to plastic bags--carry your own reusable bags.


Recycling is important, but there's too much plastic in the system and it doesn't recycle very well and ultimately ends up as garbage--so avoid buying it in the first place. 


Compost food scraps: if done correctly (google it,  it's not rocket science) there is no unpleasant odor and you end up with rich fertilizer for your garden (or your neighbor's), much better than going to Home Depot and buying it in a bag from somewhere else. 


Before you even consider throwing something out, consider how it might be reused or repurposed, either by yourself or by somebody else.  Jobs can actually be created when trash is reconsidered  as resource--whether for recycling, crafting, or secondhand use. Buffalo ReUse has built a business around green demolition and resale of building materials.  Broken items can be repaired. Things that are unwanted might be just what someone else is looking for. Give them the opportunity to make that decision before you send it off to the landfill.


So many little things we can do and most of it isn't even painful.

Wheels

I saw a guy riding his bicycle home from Wegman's this afternoon. That's remarkable because riding bikes as transportation doesn't seem too common here.

 I guess it could be the terrain. My husband and his friends are longtime, well-conditioned,  recreational cyclists who have probably toured a gazillion miles over the years (the Blue Ridge Parkway, Great Ohio Bicycle Adventure, Cleveland to Oregon, not to mention the whole crazy long distance endurance thing known as radonneuring). Long story short, they don't let hills bother them, whereas a non-athlete like me finds them very challenging.

Recreational cycling seems to enjoy great popularity here, however, judging by the turnouts for events such as the annual Tour of Chautauqua, Tour de Bemus, and the weekly rides from the Holly Loft.

But cycling to the store, not so much. I know it's going to be a while before I can make it back uphill!

I'm better at walking, and Jamestown actually has some very walkable neighborhoods. You can plug your address into this little application to find your neighborhood Walk Score and what it means.

Still,  we tend to be awfully dependent on our cars, even as that becomes more expensive. What can we do?

We can  drive the most fuel-efficient cars we can buy, and keep them tuned up and the tires properly inflated.

We can drive fewer miles by combining all of our errands in a single trip, instead of making several separate trips.

We can carpool with co-workers or offer rides to neighbors when we're going grocery shopping, or attending the same event, to reduce the number of cars on the road.

We should be aware of when public transportation is an option. I didn't realize until just this week that Jamestown has public transportation. I mistakenly thought the CARTS provided transportation for seniors and people with disabilities. They do, but there are also regular bus routes in Jamestown and Dunkirk. More info is available on the Chautauqua county website here.

Green Home Chautauqua

The Jamestown Audubon Society has launched a new page, Green Home Chautauqua, on their website.  Its purpose is  " to be your gateway to resources that will help you create a greener home through renovations. In particular, we are interested in promoting projects that implement alternative energy sources and/or technologies & strategies that reduce energy usage."  It is a work in progress, as they compile information on local contractors, suppliers, or vendors of green technologies, books and websites useful to homeowners looking to reduce their energy usage, and accounts from homeowners who have already installed green features.
 
This is interesting because "powering down" is a key component of how we get beyond the challenges of peak oil and global climate change. It also makes good personal economic sense.

When we hear of green technologies, we tend to think of energy alternatives like wind and solar, water conservation measures like rainwater collection and low-flush toilets, use of recycled materials or renewable plant materials like bamboo and straw.   But there are many more mundane things that each of us can do to reduce our harmful impact on our planet.

Weatherization is the easiest way to cut energy bills (and use)  by reducing heat loss through cracks, gaps, and holes in your home. Weatherization includes such things as caulking and weather-stripping around windows and doors, using window film  (or adding storm windows and doors, perhaps even going so far as replacing windows and doors with new, energy efficient ones), adding insulation, sealing leaks you might not even think of, around electrical outlets and recessed lighting. Government funding is available for low-income families to receive weatherization services, which save the average family over $300 on energy costs in the first year.  Locally, this program is administered by Chautauqua Opportunities.

It's good for folks who don't qualify under "low income" guidelines to do these things too.  For a small investment at your local hardware store, and a Saturday afternoon of sweat, you too can enjoy energy savings and be snug as a bug in a rug this winter.


You can still get federal tax credits for installations through the end of 2010 of new energy-efficient doors and windows, storm windows, insulation, heating systems, and biomass fuel stoves with a thermal efficiency rating of 75% or more.

If you don't feel handy enough to do it yourself and can't afford to pay a contractor, here's an interesting idea:

A group of activists in Cambridge, MA formed a non-profit called Home Energy Efficiency Team (HEET).  They organize free weatherization parties (which they call "weatherization barn-raisings) to teach volunteers how to lower their energy bills and carbon emissions.  The labor is free to the home-owners/tenants. They only pay for materials. It sounds like a good deal. In fact, they give how-to instructions on their website for other interested groups to organize their own HEETs.


As for us, we've always been conservation minded. We received the message that most people ignored back during the 1970's oil embargo. During the cold months, we keep our thermostat low during the day, and lower at night.  We like it that way. Sweaters and blankets work remarkably well! 

Now we live in a small house. You might even call it tiny. We like the small footprint, but we're finding we may not be quite tiny house people. So we're contemplating adding a second story. In the meantime, we swapped out our monster hot water tank for a tankless model that only heats water on demand.  We're replacing all of our windows this month. We compost and recycle. We use compact fluorescent bulbs.

When we need new appliances (which we don't, at the moment) we'll get the most energy efficient ones we can find.  The NY Great Appliance Swap Out program for purchasing Energy Star appliances was very popular and funds have been depleted, but you can still apply on their wait list because they anticipate further funding will become available.

Homeowner or renter, there are things everyone can do to live "greener."

Revitalizing neighborhoods

I was excited to see a couple of stories in the local paper this morning about people in Jamestown who are stepping up to improve things in their neighborhoods. One group is starting a new Neighborhood Watch (joining a coalition of other watch groups that work in cooperation with the Jamestown Police Dept. to prevent crime in their neighborhoods).   


Another story related the efforts of one guy taking it upon himself (and friends) to clean up several blocks of his own street--literally. He walks the neighborhood picking up trash, reporting code violations and suspicious activity, all in the name of "reclaiming" the neighborhood (which also has an existing watch group) of which he has been a lifelong resident. 


These are the kinds of grassroots efforts which need to be repeated all over the city to help bring about the kind of neighborhood revitalization envisioned in the report of the czb consultant team that performed a detailed study of Jamestown neighborhoods and reported their findings and recommendations earlier this year.


I read the report with great interest and found it immensely encouraging. Although the population and jobs in Jamestown have been declining for many years,  property values are flat, and pockets of blight have infected some areas, the consultants concluded that

In a nutshell, Jamestown is a place that ought to be valued and loved more. It is a place that deserves attention and investment.

...

The residents of Jamestown in 2010 benefit from many important strengths. Surely, Jamestown is one of the most beautiful towns in the United States. Second, the setting - Chautauqua County - is one of the most idyllic, as well. Third, the homes, spacious yards, rich civic life, good schools, and historic architecture, all make Jamestown a great place to raise a family. Dollar for dollar Jamestown may offer among the highest quality of life options found anywhere in America.

The consultants suggested that residents need to develop confidence in the strengths of their community in order to feel free to make the investments in their properties (mostly little fixes) that will make Jamestown's neighborhoods shine again.


While it is possible for government to provide incentives to promote the desired actions, the real momentum is going to have to happen in the neighborhoods themselves. And that is why it is vital for neighborhood leaders to emerge and initiate the kinds of conversations and activities that will rekindle the sense of community that has to a large degree been lost in our neighborhoods as changing times have brought about changing lifestyles. 


Earlier in the year I became aware of a city neighborhood that had formed a grassroots organization called Northside Pride. Not only did these neighbors get to know each other, they formed partnerships with the city and several local organizations, and applied for grant money which led to substantial improvements. New curbs and sidewalks were constructed. More than 100 trees were planted. A vacant lot was cleaned up and landscaped. Vacant homes were purchased by the Chautauqua Home Rehabilitation and Improvement Corp. and renovated for resale to owner-occupants.

This is a great illustration of the Margaret Mead quote:  Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.


More like this, please.



 

Eating Local

Just returning from this morning's Farmer's Market in Westfield. ("Local food," for now, means anywhere in the county--quite a bit closer than California or South America.) Got some glorious looking tomatoes and peppers for the pot of Ohio State chili my husband is cooking up, as well as grass fed beef, brown eggs, some cheese, and a nice Amish-baked peach pie for dessert.

Early in our Chautauqua county home search, we very nearly settled in Westfield.  We love the older homes and the walkable village environment. But it didn't work out, and we found our place in West Ellicott, which is not quite as walkable (though not far from anything), but we have lots of room for a garden and we like the neighbors.

I've started a page on local food, though with its 1557 commercial farms, 15,500 acres of grapes, and eight wineries, Chautauqua County has more farms and produces more grapes than any other county in New York State, there is much to choose from and I'm not going to list all of them here. I've listed the regular Farmers Markets and some Farm Markets.  We've even found a good selection of local produce at Wegman's.

I gave up on trying to grow vegetables when we were in Cleveland because everything was getting eaten up by "varmints" (rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, groundhogs, etc) before it ever got to my table. Instead, I developed a knack for cottage flower gardening, with a few herbs thrown in. Now, however, I'm interested in giving it another try, and will install deer and rabbit proof fencing around my beds to improve my odds. We'll be installing a couple of raised beds this fall and filling them with soil and compost so they'll be ready to go in the spring.

This year, we became shareholders in a CSA, Roots and Wings Family Farm, and that has kept us supplied with lots of fresh organic produce all summer.

I'm easing back into preserving food--something I learned from my mom, but haven't done in many years.  This year I made strawberry jam. Our loaded apple trees suggest I'll be canning applesauce this fall. I may get some tomatoes done too.

Food grows in abundance here, but nothing grows during the winter months, so we need to plan ahead for those times.

Leaving Cleveland

With our children grown, it's time for downsizing and living a less complicated life. When you have rooms that you never even use, the house is TOO BIG. It's hard leaving good friends and neighbors in Ohio, but the kids have moved out of state and aren't coming back. Moving east puts us closer to our grandchild in Massachusetts.

So why Chautauqua county?  We're ready for a change from the general busyness of a large metro area. The natural beauty here is very attractive to us as people who enjoy nature and outdoor activities. The huge agricultural presence bodes well for local food security. There is a good fresh water supply. Despite the higher NY taxes, the cost of living in this part of the state is really quite reasonable.

So, we bought a small home on a nice lot outside the city limits in late 2008 and embarked upon our journey of discovery.  We have discovered that there are a lot of committed groups of people working hard to maintain and improve the quality of life here. Not everyone appreciates the importance of their efforts, but we are impressed.


We live in interesting times, when the way of life to which we have been accustomed to is threatened by our over-consumption of the limited resources our planet has to offer.  The rapid industrialization of India and China with their huge populations is forcing us to face the unsustainability of continued growth based on use of finite fossil fuels.  Americans are dying in the global competition for these resources. Our air, water,and earth are becoming dangerously polluted and the planet's temperature is rising. Economic instability has hit home with failing businesses, prolonged periods of unemployment, people losing their homes and their healthcare. Good people are suffering.

What can we do? We can pretend this is just a temporary inconvenience, do nothing, and hope things get better. But these conditions are unprecedented, and that is unlikely to happen. By the time government officials in faraway Washington come to grips with what's happening, their actions will be too little too late.

So it's up to us. By starting now, with our neighbors,  to build resilience in our own communities, we can meet these challenges head on and successfully manage whatever comes our way.

For some time now, there have been pockets of people around the world attempting to organize and address these issues. Their models are helpful to others in that we can learn from them and avoid having to reinvent the wheel. The Transition Towns movement was started in the UK in 2006, caught on rapidly, and has spread worldwide, including the US.  Others call it relocalization, building community resilience, or The Great Turning.

Whatever we call it, it boils down to people working together in their own communities to ensure that, whether we are faced with rising fuel costs, disruptions in power and supply chains, natural disasters, job losses, or plagues of locusts, we are able to securely meet our own needs for food, water, shelter, energy, healthcare, and other necessities.

This doesn't mean a return to an earlier and more primitive way of life or isolation in small enclaves. Indeed, opportunities exist for the creation of very vibrant communities employing the latest technologies, rich with cultural, educational, and recreational activities,  doing meaningful work and enjoying life, and reaching out to the world without the harmful impact on our earth.

We invented the internet and sent men into space, so surely we can do this.  Where do we begin? By getting to know our neighbors and our community and all of the resources that are already available. By finding others who share our concerns and our interest in starting now to ease the transition for future generations.

So it begins.