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.

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