Live Intentionally

NOTE: This is an introductory chapter explaining my working title for my forthcoming book based on this blog. After WAY too much agonizing, I finally decided that my blog is about much more than eating. It's also about more than organic living. It's about living intentionally. So, that's the title (for now) - Live Intentionally. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. The manuscript goes to beta readers this Friday! 

What Does an Intentional Life Look Like?

An Intentional Life is a life that is authentic. It’s real. It can be trusted.  It means not just healthier eating, but knowing your food – where it came from, how it was prepared, and what it can do for you. It’s also enjoying that food and taking pride in the care you’ve taken in selecting or creating it.

It’s feeling good about how you spend your time and how your children spend their time. It’s taking care of your body and teaching your children to do the same. It’s exploring your own creativity and ability and not being a stand-by passenger in this life. 

Are YOU a Camel, too?

Note: This is a chapter taken from my new book based on this Blog! I am still in the editing phases so if you notice a typo or grammatical slip-up, I’d appreciate the heads up. Also, if there is anything here that is cause for alarm or confusion, point it out. If you loved it, hated it, or think you know a better way – tell me that, too. You can do this by posting in the comments or by shooting me an e-mail at cara.achterberg@rocketmail.com.

Drink More Water (Plus a bonus Soapbox Sermon on Plastic!)

Drink more water. I know you’ve heard that before. I think I’m part camel because I'm able to go nearly all day without a drink. But I’m trying to do better.

Here’s just a few of the things water does for you (if you drink enough): increases energy level, reduces joint/back pain, prevents headaches, aids in digestion and prevents constipation, ensures proper circulation, increases metabolism and regulates appetites, and keeps us alive (we can live a month without food, but only a week without water).

Recently I read Stiff by Mary Roach. In Stiff, Roach investigates what happens to our bodies once we die. The book considers all the possibilities from donating your body to science to becoming human compost. It sounds gruesome, but it was a really fun read. This book taught me two valuable lessons.

Guess What!

Guess what Dear Readers??!! I’m writing a book! (Okay, if you know me very well, you know I’m always writing a book, but this is different!) This book is based on this blog! I’ve finally wrestled all (okay some) of the information down into a manageable format and I’m getting mighty close to having it ready for my Beta Readers. (Note: If you’re local and you’d like to be a Beta Reader for me, shoot me an e-mail.)

What’s a Beta Reader you ask? I didn’t know myself the first time I stumbled across the term since the only Betas I know wind up floating dead in my youngest son’s fish bowl a few months after we buy them. Well, a Beta Reader is a person who agrees to read a book when an author has done all she can do with it but before she’s taken the next step to actually publishing it. Beta Readers must be brave and, more importantly, have time on their hands. They read for content and flow and accuracy. They make notes and offer feedback about the scope, format, and content of the book. Some Beta Readers (but not all) catch grammar mistakes and typos. Basically, they tell the author what they like and don’t like about the book. They give an opinion on what works and what doesn’t.

There’s no pay offered (since most authors have no money), but there is extreme gratitude offered. In my case this gratitude will come in the form of homemade applesauce, fresh eggs (if my new girls ever start laying), a free copy of the book when it’s published, and probably some lovely wine and snacks during the final focus group.

I’m hoping to have my manuscript ready for Beta Readers by September 12. That’s a completely unrealistic goal, but I’m setting it anyway. I like a good challenge (as you’ll discover if you read my new book!). That said, I must take a breather from this blog. But don’t despair Dear Reader because while I may be taking a breather from creating new content, I will be posting a chapter from the book each week. That way you can be a virtual Beta Reader. And, if you’re so inclined, you can offer your own edits, thoughts, etc. You can post them in the comment section for all the world to see, or if you’d rather, you can e-mail them to me directly. I’ll post a link to do this at the end of each chapter, along with a few questions to get your editing juices going. Look for the first post this Wednesday!

Want to be one of my Beta Readers? Live nearby? (this is required so that I can ply you with wine at our final focus group) Let me know and I'll send you all the juicy details!

cara.achterberg@rocketmail.com

Food For Thought (and Health)

What to Eat? This is not only a question every person asks themselves every day, it’s also the title of a wonderful book I’ve been reading. It was a gift from my oldest son. He of the inquisitive mind must have been intrigued by the questions that pepper the cover. Questions like,

“Is organic always more nutritious? How fair is fair trade coffee? Farmed fish or wild fish? White, whole wheat, or multigrain? Are there pesticides on that apple? Are vitamin supplements safe?”

Or maybe he was just responding to his father’s nudge, “Your mom would really like that book,” when they were out Christmas shopping on a crowded afternoon and he was in a hurry to get home to his friends.

Either way, love the book. It asks all the questions I ask and some I never thought to ask. Marion Nestle is a nutrition professor, and author of two other books (soon to grace my shelves or my kindle) – Food Politics: How the Food Industry Influences Nutrition and Health and Safe Food: Bacteria, Biotechnology, and Bioterrorism.

In her book, What to Eat, Marion addresses the things that plagued the concerned parent when she or he enters a grocery store. How do you sort through all the confusing messages and buy what’s best for your family and your health? The book literally takes a tour of the grocery store expounding on every aisle with helpful, clear information.

I want to share some excellent ideas I found in the introduction. All of us struggle with the immense amount of information and the almost daily new studies that tell us what we should and shouldn’t eat to avoid health issues like cancer and heart disease, have more energy, live longer, and maintain a healthy weight. Although I’m certain there are a few factors out of our control (heredity and all the stuff we already ate that we shouldn’t have before we knew better), Marion’s simple directions make sense -

Eat less, move more, eat lots of fruits & vegetables, and go easy on the junk food.

This is a mantra we can all embrace. If we keep it in mind as we make our food and activity choices each day we can feel we’ve done all we should. Sure, the details like organic, fair-trade, GMO, locally grown, sustainably-harvested will play in to your choices, but bottom line start by eating right before you stress the rest.

Another point Marion makes in the introduction is that it’s very easy to be overcome by the marketing of food. Companies, grocery stores, and even our own government encourage us to eat things that are not good for us. As Marion points out,

“The produce industry does not advertise fruits and vegetables much because its profit margins are low and its constituents are fragmented and competitive (broccoli growers versus carrot farmers, etc.). …the government does not subsidize fruit and vegetable production the way it supports corn, soybeans, sugarcane, and sugar beets….the lack of profit means that less effort goes into making sure these foods are as fresh, tasty, well prepared, and easy to use as they might be.”

I want to share one last powerful point Marion makes. It’s been darting around my mind ever since I read it. She asks the reader to consider this question:

“What industry or professional organization might benefit if you ate more healthfully?”

Like Marion, I struggle to come up with even one. I want to say the government, because then it wouldn’t have to spend nearly as much on medicare and Medicaid. But that’s a stretch, huh? In my fantasy world I would also say the government because it wants what’s best for the people. But I still reside in the real world.

Here are the industries she lists that benefit from all the confusion and bad decisions we make about nutrition and health: food, restaurant, fast-food, diet, health club, drug, and health care industries.

Food for thought. Be aware of the motivation behind the claims. And remember: eat less, move more, eat lots of fruits & veggies, and go easy on the junk food. Words to live by. Literally.

Road Trip!

Just found this unposted post I wrote a month ago. Best intentions, you know.




My favorite - headless child on the beach!

 Summer is all about letting things slip like bedtimes, house cleaning, and diets. I know that all of the above have been in free fall for the past month in this family. We just returned from a roadtrip through the south where it was 99 degrees most days and all anyone really wanted to do was sit in the AC with a cold beverage. We still managed to see a few sights and of course sample the local cuisines. I discovered I love shrimp grits, and we were treated to not one, but three different ice cream/yogurt venues. Then there was the movie theater popcorn (another great way to escape the heat) and plenty of adult beverages. There was not a whole lot of organic going on.

So it was comforting to me to reflect on what a wise pediatrician said to me back when one of my little darlings was refusing to eat balanced meals. She told me that it’s not what they eat in a day or even a week. It’s what they eat over a month. So I don’t stress a few fat-laden or even chemical-laden meals. It won’t kill them.

Here’s a couple ideas for road trips with kids –

1. Pack lots of healthy food. We parked a cooler stuffed with fruits, veggies, cheese sticks, yogurts, and water bottles between the youngest two and let them have at it whenever they wanted. Once we got where we were going, of course they opted for much more colorful packaging, but I at least I knew I got a good first layer in there.

2. Pack lunch whenever possible. It’s just so much easier when you have a carload of kids. Pull over at a rest area or park or even a church cemetery (that makes for a very interesting stop) and enjoy some fresh air. You’ll save time, money, and know your kids got at least one decent meal. Just like the snacks, I think of it as stock-piling some healthy stuff to counter all the not-so-healthy stuff I know will come.

3. Pack extra headphones, batteries, and books. Put an emergency bag somewhere that has –

Benedryl cream (bee stings)
Bandaids
Tylenol
Sweat shirt (in a size that will fit anyone in a pinch)
T-shirt (same as above)
Shorts (elastic waist so it’ll fit most of the kids)
Socks
Flipflops (no shirts, no shoes, no service is a foreign concept to kids)
Towel
Flashlight
Sanitary pads/tampons
Plastic bags (just plain old grocery ones)

I have all of these things stuffed in to the secret compartment in the back and have used all of them at some point or another for my kids or someone elses. Especially the benedryl cream – don’t forget that one. It takes the ow out of a bee sting.

4. Give everybody a map with the route clearly marked. This is easy to do with mapquest or AAA. I like the big paper maps because it provides a little origami opportunity too.

I think the perfect philosophy for summer traveling is relax and enjoy what comes your way. Plan for pitstops and surprises. We like to play the game, “the weirdest thing” where everyone looks out the window and tries to spot the weirdest thing. We saw peacocks in a parking lot, all manner of interesting lawn ornaments, ground hogs in broad daylight, and laughed ourselves silly over the faces people make while driving (and how many of them pick their noses!) It’s a great game because it gets all of us looking out the windows and appreciating all the strangeness this world has to offer.

So enjoy the summer especially if it includes a road trip or two. Don’t stress what your kids are eating (or you for that matter) too much. There will be plenty of time for reading labels and counting calories when fall rolls around. As long as you don’t slip completely off the wagon, or at least you remember where you parked the wagon, it’s all good.

Just Keep Keepin' On

Sometimes when I sit down to write I’m not really sure what I plan to say. I just get going and see what happens. Sometimes I parent the same way. Can’t really speak to the “strategy’s” effectiveness as the jury is still out on this parenthood project. But there is something to be said for just continuing to move along even when you aren’t quite sure of the way. I had two experiences this week that re-confirmed this for me. One was great fun, and the other was obligatory but necessary for my personal commitments to local politics.

I’ll start with the fun one. This past Saturday I ran a Half-Marathon with a woman I’ve known since grade school. Long ago we spent hours upon hours setting our Barbies up on dates and arguing about who had to go out with the G.I. Joe with orange fuzzy hair.. Once school was closed for a week because of snow and we had sleepovers every night – whispering in to the wee hours and sneaking the jello mix to eat straight. And once school was closed for months due to a teachers strike and her mom became our teacher! Our lives have traveled quite different roads, but our connection has held strong. So we met up in Virginia wine country for a half-marathon trail race. Her first race and my first half (she cheered me through my first marathon in her home town five years ago!).

This plan was hatched last spring when the race seemed like the perfect excuse to leave our spouses and children and spend a weekend together, touring vineyards, eating wonderful food, and oh yeah, running a race. The reality hit us in the face last Saturday. We had a plan to run the race with intervals since Lisbeth hadn’t run before and I sometimes have grumpy knees. I proposed 4 minutes run and 1 minute walk. After a few months of training in ridiculous heat this summer, Lisbeth modified it to 3 minutes run and 2 minutes walk. No problem. I could do that.

Race day dawned cool and beautiful. This being a race for women only, it was a great atmosphere. Lots of moral support, port-a-pottys, and laughter. There were women running with stuffed animals (I never did get the complete story on that) and children cheering us at the start and handing out Gatorade at the aid stations. A group of men sang an off-key version of Happy Trails at the start and we were off!

Things went pretty well for about 5 miles. Then the hills began in earnest. Neither one of us had investigated the race enough to know that part of it was on the Appalachian Trail and when they said there were hills – they were serious. Lisbeth’s enthusiasm began to wane, and soon her legs did too. We walked along, me following cautiously, afraid to push her, and Lisbeth lost in her ipod world. In the beginning she had kept one ear bud out so we could converse, but by this point she had nothing to say to me and my Pennsylvania hill trained legs. She comes from Virginia Beach and the only hills she encounters are the man made dunes at the beach. Not a level playing field by far. About mile 7, she shooed me away. Told me she had no intention of running another step and doubted she would even finish. I stuck with her for a little while, but when it became apparent that my presence was more annoyance than support for her, I bounded away up the trail, sprinting to make up for my walked miles.

As I attempted to make up for lost time, I passed all kinds of women. Some were running incredibly slowly, barely lifting their feet. Some were power walking- arms swinging like giant pendulums. Still others were chatting and alternately walking and running as the terrain dictated. Without fail, every one of them cheered me on as I passed. So different from the co-ed road races I have run. But then again, here I was at the back of the pack forging my way to the middle, so this wasn’t really a cut-throat competitive setting.

But I digress. This isn’t really about me gallantly leaping over logs on my way to finishing in the bottom half of the runners. No, this is about my dear friend. My friend who was in pain. Frustrated after having trained in the ungodly Virginia Beach heat and humidity all summer, she questioned whether she had it in her to finish. Even deciding to run this race had been a huge risk for her and now she had to wonder if the people who told her she couldn’t do it were right. I confess that as I ran through the forest, I worried for my friend and I, too, doubted if she’d finish. But finish she did – maybe a bit grumpy (understatement of the year), very sore, exhausted, but jubilant. In the end, her race was a much bigger triumph than mine. I had a great time racing through the woods to my inevitable finish, but what Lisbeth did was so much bigger. She just kept keeping on. She didn’t give up, even when her anger, exhaustion, pain, and self-doubt plagued her. And in the end, that’s what it’s all about. You put one foot in front of the other. You do the best you can and you keep keepin’ on. And you don’t let the nay-sayers stop you.

Which brings me to my other story….about the people who don’t keep keepin’ on. This is the story of my experience volunteering at a political booth at the York Fair on a beautiful afternoon. I’m not saying which political party I was volunteering for, not only because I try to keep politics out of the blog, but because it really doesn’t matter. I’m certain the other booth two spaces down was hearing some of the same stuff.

The following person is fictional, completely fabricated by me as an amalgamation of some of the fascinating souls who stopped by the booth to enlighten me and my fellow volunteers. His presence was somewhat overwhelming. He towered over us as we sat behind our literature and buttons, fuming and sweating through his t-shirt that was straining to keep control of his mid-section. He looked to be about 50ish. He leaned in to our table and one of my cohorts, asked, “How can I help you?” His reply wasn’t appropriate for a family friendly blog, so I’ll translate. “Yeah, you can help me. Holy moly. How can you be out here pushing this person who doesn’t care about any of us? Holy moly! He only wants to put money in his own pocket. Holy moly! We should throw all the bums out!” (I remind you that I am paraphrasing and condensing a much more colorful exchange with this purely fictionalized character).

Our bravest volunteer, a powerful tiny woman who is at least 20 years my senior, stood up and looked him in the eye. She asked, “Are you registered to vote sir?” His reply? “Nah, I don’t vote,” followed by more colorful remarks as to why this gentleman doesn’t choose to exercise his constitutional right.

I do get it. The frustration with government. Believe me, I’ve been there. But too many of us have given up. It’s too much work, it’s seems pointless, and really, why should I bother when so many others don’t? Because it’s not only our constitutional right, it’s our duty and privilege as American citizens to participate in the election of our government. If we don’t keep keepin’ on, then those people this man claimed are running our government really will be running the government.

Life can be hard, boring, frustrating, monotonous at times. But it can also be amazing, phenomenal, inspiring, and plain hilarious. We have to just keep participating. We can’t stand aside. And if we choose to stand aside, we must keep our complaints to ourselves. We prepare as best we can and give it a shot. That’s all anyone can ask. That’s all we can ask of ourselves. I’ve been thinking a lot about living simply. I’m reading lots of books and meditating and journaling on the concept, and I’m starting to believe it comes down to just keeping on. Not racing ahead, not judging the past, just putting one foot in front of the other on a daily basis and paying attention to each moment. There is so much to learn.

What Do Organic People Look Like?

What do organic people look like? By organic people I’m talking about the kind of people who live green, eat healthy, and care about local sustainably grown food. After finishing our Buy Fresh, Bike Local Ride on Saturday we arrived for a lovely catered lunch at Dickinson College Farm. The food was freshly picked from nearby farms, the chefs were local farmers and caterers, the plasticware was compostable, and everything tasted scrumptious. But as we lingered over our triple berry pie with homemade ice cream, we looked around and my dearest husband pointed out that we didn’t fit in. Everyone else was a Boomer or a Gen Y (is that what those young whipper snappers with all the tattoos are called?), but there were very few of us between the ages of 35 and 45.

I wouldn’t for a minute suggest that this is because my generation doesn’t care about the earth, the local farmers, or their health. I just think they are busy. I know we are. It took no small amount of finagling to free up the day, secure child care, and squeeze in the training rides, to make this lovely morning possible. We may not have time to tote the Buy Fresh, Buy Local banner at public events, but we are carrying with us as we shop. People of all ages are making small decisions every day add up. As they say, “no snowflake ever feels responsible for the whole avalanche.” The times are changing and most companies are taking notice and making changes of their own.

People are becoming more and more aware of the need to eat better food (and I’m not just talking calories) and live more socially responsible lives. How and where your food is grown has become a concern of people from every generation (well, maybe the under 10 set doesn’t care so much where that cheese curl came from). This is good for all of us. The economic impact of people choosing whole grains, locally grown produce, and grass-fed meat is becoming apparent. The Money section is Sunday’s paper reported that whole wheat bread has finally overtaken white bread in sales. Our grocery store circular has an entire column on the first page devoted to the locally grown produce they sell. Grass fed, locally grown, certified organic, no GMO, antibiotic & pesticide free have all become part of the common language for many of us.

Sure I can still stroll through my Wal-Mart and observe lots of people who are not worried about where or how their food was made, let alone what it’s made of, but their numbers are shrinking. And yes, the cynic in me questions whether to trust big business with the organic label. But I believe we’ll get there. This is just gonna take some time. All real change does.

I’m consistently surprised by the types of people I meet who share my concern for the health of the planet and their family. They’re no longer the crunchy-granola type, left-leaning folks – they are people from every walk of life. Being organic is not red or blue, it’s green. Some people have come to it because of health concerns, something they read or watched that changed their view, or by the clear evidence around us. For many of us it’s just an awakening to the impact we have on the future – ours and our children’s.

I always cringe when a friend or acquaintance who knows about my passion/obsession (depends how you look at it) for organic living apologizes for their choices – “I know I shouldn’t be eating this” or “I’m sorry I brought the Styrofoam” or “This isn’t organic” or the worst, “I feel awful I feed your child this - fill-in-the-blank- chemically laden, artificially created- treat.” I don’t want to become known as the organic nazi, because I’m not. My kids scarf up the unnaturally colored freezer pops and transfat filled snacks as fast as the next kid. I totally get the need to balance the what you children want with your budget and your conscience.

I understand that this organic life is not a priority for everyone. It wasn’t always a priority for me. It’s taken quite a few years to arrive at this level of commitment. I’m not here to judge anyone. I’m just here to offer information, encouragement, and maybe a little nudge to your conscience. Any change, no matter how small, is good in my book, and even no change is fine too as long as the level of awareness has been raised. So when my priorities irritate someone or make them feel guilty that’s a sign that change is afoot. If we feel guilty, we must know that there’s a better way.

What kind of people live this organic life? All kinds, at different levels, in different ways, for different reasons. And that’s OK. At least we’re moving in a good direction.

The Story of Our Children

I know I am not the only parent horrified by the sheer volume of paper our children bring home from school. One of these years I’m going to save them all and see how many pages we accumulate over the course of one year. I’m certain the stack will reach the ceiling and then the kids can make calculations determining just how many trees have been sacrificed in the name of their education.

But at the same time, I appreciate the communication and I do like to see what my children have been up to. The real issue becomes what to save and what not to save. To avoid drowning in paper and indecision, I developed our bin system. Each of my children has a labeled bin in the mudroom where we deposit papers that we aren't ready to part with because a) they will be necessary for a future assignment b) their author deems them too good for the recycle bin c) they make their mother get misty eyed with pride or wonder or d) their mother finds the paper/art project/unidentifiable object on the floor and doesn’t know whether it is of consequence, but fears being accused of appearing apathetic towards her child’s work of genius. All others fill the recycle bin. Between the massive quantities of paper the school sends home and the even larger numbers of projects produced at home, it’s a wonder we can hold an entire year’s worth in one room, let alone one bin. It requires a will of steel, I tell you.

These bins fill up. So when the end of school rolls around, we spend a morning sorting through the bins. I plunk a trash can, a recycle bin, and an empty “Keeper box”, labeled with this year’s dates, in the living room. I also bring along a permanent marker or two for labeling and dating the things we keep. Then I fetch the overflowing bins and the unenthusiastic children and we get to work. No one is very excited to do this task, myself included, so we plan a reward for ourselves. After the sorting, we went to the $2 movies. (This year the older kids saw Alice in Wonderland and I accompanied the youngest to see How to Train a Dragon. I recommend the Dragon movie – good messages, decent writing, adorable dragons.)

The sorting really isn’t that terrible once everyone gets going. It’s kind of fun to see the things created back in September. The memories unearthed are worth the effort of the unwelcome task. The hard part is deciding what is worth keeping. Each child must think hard about what he/she really wants to save. There is only one keeper box shared amongst all three kids. The bulk of the box is always filled by the youngest child. In fact, I’m not sure my oldest thought anything accomplished at school was worth saving. He did find a few masterpieces created in his free time at home that made it in to the keeper box.

One box worth of stuff seems like a small amount, and it is, but those annual boxes begin to stack up. Here’s where I come in (and don’t tell the kids). Prior to the sorting day, while the kids are still at school, I pull out the previous year’s box. I examine its contents and sort those things in to the individual child’s Keeper box (an under the bed bin that holds all size wonders), tossing out or recycling everything else.

My children are prolifically creative, which I love, but without some kind of system we could quickly become overwhelmed by their creations. Some day when they move to their own digs, I will roll up for a visit, climb out of my convertible, and hand them their Keeper box. I imagine them boring their significant other to death with the details of each project (unless of course the significant other is recently acquired in which case she/he might feign some interest).

The other object I hope to bequeath to them when I arrive in my clean car wearing unwrinkled, unstained, stylish clothes, having taken the scenic route to their abode because I have all the time in the world, is a photo album of their childhood. I say hope because such an album doesn’t exist yet. I’m getting ready to start the album for child no # 1. I even purchased a book just for this purpose. I am a serious scrapbooker who produces annual books documenting our escapades that weigh in excess of twenty pounds each (filled with pictures, paper, buttons, brads, and embellishments – yes – I am one of those people!). But those books are for me, not them. Someday I will have my nursing aide lift each book carefully on to my lap and I’ll flip through them slowly, remembering these days when my life was rich with children.

I want to make each of my children a book to take with them when they launch. A book that illustrates where they came from, how they became who they are, and how much they were loved - a book that tells the story of their childhood. For this you need pictures, of which we have plenty. We take pictures of everything. I even have pictures of my friend Carol removing the stitches from my oldest son’s arm and my daughter, red faced in tears after having her ears pierced. Not to mention thousands of portraits of our gray cat and the chickens with the puffy heads. Pictures of the kids leaf sledding, splashing through the homemade car wash, and flying on the zipline, plus the countless sports teams, concerts, geography bees, and envirothon competitions should fill these books to bursting with stories.

The sheer quantity of pictures rivals the amount of paper the school sends home. Luckily, most of my pictures are now secured inside my external hard drive. My plan is simple. For each year of my child’s life, I will fill four pages with pictures. The album I bought holds between 4 and 6 pictures per page. That’s an album with 36 pages (front and back filled). This seems reasonable to me. Of course, I’ve yet to start. Wish me luck.

If we can do everything possible to safe-guard the memories of childhood for our children, I believe it is a priceless gift. I look back on my childhood and there is much I don’t remember. But when I pull out the school days book my mother carefully filled out in her familiar cursive or page through an album with the clear plastic curling up, my childhood comes back. It’s a window in to who I really am at my core. My diary is another map – one that is funny, embarrassing, and poignant. It reminds me that we are hard-wired from the start. There were clues back then, even if I didn’t recognize them. We grow and change, but who we are begins in our childhood. As parents we must find ways to protect and preserve this precious piece of our children’s story.

More Than a Clothes Line

This post is written by my cousin Carolee in Ohio. I am a slave to my dryer, but inspired by Carolee’s commitment, and the joy she finds in line drying her clothes. Of course, it’s better for the earth and probably your clothes, but I never realized it could be good for your soul, too. She’s given me much to think about. Enjoy!

One of the joys of my life comes from connecting with the rhythms of the earth - weather, seasons, daylight and darkness. Eat what's in season. Sleep when it's dark. Wake when it's light. Garden in the early morning before it's hot as blazes. Open windows in the early morning and close them up to hold in the cool air when the sun drives the temperature up. Do laundry when it will dry well. It's rather like Cara's living close to the earth for food production. Buying local and growing one's own are on the same spectrum as line drying one's laundry. A bright sunny, breezy day will dry clothes in a flash.

Do I dry everything? No, I don't like "crunchy" underwear, wrinkled "good" t-shirts and socks that don't stay up. I dry these on low to help them regain their shape and stretchiness. I also machine dry permanent press shirts and pants to remove wrinkles and most of our dark blue and black clothes to remove cat and bunny hair.

I line dry about two-thirds of our laundry. I love napkins and table cloths that look like they've been ironed when all it took was a good shake and a smart snap of the material before hanging the item on a drying rack or clothes line. Jeans and heavy pants and shirts hung neatly will dry with creases in all the right places. Towels give the loofah affect when line dried. Wash cloths, rags, you name it -- line dry unless it needs the machine to dry well.

The equipment is simple:

• Clothes line(s) outside. I have 2 retractable lines that run from the house to a tree. One line stays up pretty much all the time and the other, which runs more through the center of the yard; I reel in when not in use. Lines are available at hardware stores.

• Poles to prop up the lines to prevent excess strain on the lines and drooping long items on to the ground. These light weight metal poles with tops designed to hold the line can be found at hardware stores. I have 2 per line, though depending on the weight of the items hanging, I may not use them all.

• Large drying racks to use indoors and out. These are ideal for small, short items (napkins, rags, washcloths) that take up lots of line space when hung on the line and for heavy items (bath mats and rugs) that might drag the clothes line down. The racks fold and are easy to grab and bring in if rain approaches. I sometimes load my 2 racks on the screened porch when the weather is "iffy" and I'm leaving for the day.

• Wooden clothes pins that grip well. Skip the plastic as these are more easily broken. Pins sometimes snap off the line, break, get lost in the grass or migrate to the kitchen to hold chip, cracker and coffee bean bags closed -- so buy more than you expect to need.

• An pocket apron to hold the cloths pins. I have an "84 Lumber" nail apron. The apron is kind adults wear at the school carnival to collect and hold the tickets at the kid games.

• For indoor drying - the same large racks used outside and a pipe or pole hanging from your basement or attic ceiling upon which you can hang hangers.

• Plastic hangers and hangers with plastic clips to hang skirts and pants. I have a bunch of hangers that came with little kid's clothes that work well for small skirts and pants. I bought plastic kid size hangers for my 7 y.o.'s shirts since full size hangers stretch out her stuff. Nearly all of our family's clothes are hung in closets, including t-shirts, sweatshirts and sweaters. I dry them on the hanger and transfer to the closet on the same hanger -- no folding required.

How to?

• If time if of the essence - hang items from the end to allow only a single layer. If not, flip the towel or sheet over the line so it hangs in a double layer. Depending on the weather, things dry in about half a day if in a double layer and in a couple of hours in a single layer.

• It's okay to pull stuff off the line nearly dry and finish it up in just a few minutes in the machine. This happens to me when I put stuff out at 3:30 and it's not quite dry by the approach of darkness and the evening dew coming on.

• Shake out wrinkles and hang clothes like you want them to look then they are dry. I give pants a good shake, clip them into hangers and hang them up to dry. Once dry - it's straight to the closet. I often pull the pockets inside out. I hang sweat pants and shorts with pockets inside out to help the pockets dry as fast as the rest of the material.

• Items on hangers are hung directly on the clothes line with clothes pins as spacers to keep clothes from sliding together. Since the weight is concentrated, I use a pole or two to prop up the line in this area.

The blessing of line drying is that I no longer am in control of the schedule -- the rain is. I leave for work at 6:30 a.m. and return home at 3:15 to meet the kids arriving from school. So, if rain is likely my "no laundry" excuse is set! Bookmark http://www.weather.gov/ for the most accurate predictions. I do have the blessing of a neighbor who also line dries, so she will take down laundry and put it on my screened porch if rain comes unexpectedly and she sees laundry on my lines. I try not to set her up for running and grabbing laundry since she's well into her 80's!

In the winter, the weather excuse is gone -- but the humidity level of the house benefits from each drying towel, jeans or linen. I turn on the radio and "hide" in the basement from the busy family above my head.

In the spring, summer and fall -- I truly enjoy my early mornings hanging clothes in the quiet dawn. I listen to the birds and think of other women working quietly as the day starts. It's often dark and I'm waiting for enough light to feel safe riding my bike (with flashing lights and a "don't kill me" green vest) to work. In the afternoon and on the weekend days I often find myself thinking of my mother and women in the neighborhood where I grew up -- every single one had and used a clothes line. Now, I am an oddity -- what's with that? Sunlight and breezes are free! They use no fossils fuels and create no pollution. By washing items sorted not only by color, but also by "machine dry or not" criteria the use of the dryer is minimized. I often wash 3 to 4 loads and consolidate the machine dry items to 1 dryer load. The rest is blowing in the sunny breeze - for free!

The Power of Best Friends

I guess that I am the first of any of Cara’s readers that have actually posted a guest blog. I think that makes me the guinea pig. Depending on who Cara’s avid readers are, some of you may know me, some may not. My name is Lisbeth, I am one of Cara’s best friends from childhood (the really young years…7 -13) in Hockessin.

For those of you who simply read this blog but really don’t know Cara at all, let me tell you that she talks exactly like she types, that’s pretty much why I read it all the time, I feel like I am in her living room. While her blogging may revolve around Organic foods and healthy living for children, mine are both young adults and so what I have done or not done with them over the past 21 years no longer really has relevance, they make their own choices now.

I started out when they were little doing the homemade thing, baby food in the blender, cloth diapers, fresh juices etc., then reality set in with a husband out to sea and a job. All of that stuff that she says not to do, I did, miraculously I have 2 pretty wonderful almost adult children that ate McDonalds french fries and drank coke once in a while, so don’t fret, there is hope.

I read her blog because she inspires me, to be better, do better, live better and pay attention (at whatever level) to what I buy and what I eat. I can guarantee you that I am nowhere near her state of greatness for the environment but I am listening. I think that if all of us do that, just try one thing, if it is recycling or buying local or eating organic the planet actually might survive for a little while longer than its current life expectancy.

This brings me to the point of this blog. The influence of best friends and the power that they have over us, for LIFE!!

Cara , Linda and I grew up together, we played with horses, we complained about our mothers, we sang, laughed, fought, cried, explored, learned, loved and never ever stopped being friends. I am the youngest of the 3 but not by much, I moved away from the other 2 when I was 13, I didn’t see either one of them (although they stayed close) for 10 years.

Somehow, miraculously, now that we all have families and live in 3 completely separate corners of the country, we found each other again. Cara I see weekly in cyber space reading her blog but physically I have not seen her since Ian was 2. So what is the point of all this? The point is that our friends perhaps more than our parents or friends or coworkers have more influence over us than anyone.

I live at the beach. I do not swim in the ocean, no one can get me in the water, except Cara, she can convince me to do anything and she always has. I do not hike in the mountains, I am a city girl, I go to Idaho and hike 7 miles up a mountain, with Linda. I run (ok, so I jog) but not by choice, I am not an “I love running“ kind of a girl. I run because I like to drink wine and eat dessert (more than just one bite). Running is the only way that my clothes still fit at the end of the month. If anyone ever mentioned to me that I should train for and run a half marathon, I would tell them that they were completely nuts! These two have convinced me to try and tackle this challenge and I actually agreed, why , I am still not quite sure but it will be an interesting chapter to add to my life story. (You'll love it and feel like superwoman when it's all done, the blisters are soaking, and the wine glass is in your hand! - Cara)

If most of the readers of this blog have young children that are still heavily influenced by their peers, beware, they could possibly be around forever. The power and influence that true, forever friends have on us, for LIFE, is quite amazing. I am grateful to have some in mine!!

Everything Evolves

We’re all evolving. At least we’re supposed to be. This blog has evolved a bit too. I no longer find myself writing about strictly organic topics. I seem to digress to parenting, philosophy, chicken-keeping, gardening, and managing a home, with the occasional political rant thrown in for fun. Hope that’s OK with you. As it evolves, I would invite you to suggest topics. Some weeks I have more ideas and words than I know what to do with, and other weeks (like this week for instance) I have to scrounge around for something relevant to say.

I like to post twice a week, but if it gets to the point where I find myself writing just to be writing, I’ll try to spare you and get by with just one post. There are topics I covered last year that I may revisit because my own understanding of a particular topic has evolved.

I would also just LOVE to have a guest blogger contribute something, so if you have something to say, pass it along. I’m a gentle editor, if I was a little tougher you wouldn’t have to wade through so many words each post. I’m still waiting for my cousin Carolee to send me her guest-post on Air-dried Laundry (ha! Now you have to do it!).

In the spirit of evolving, I’d like to share my latest wheat bread recipe for the bread maker. I’m always trying to perfect my sandwich bread recipe so my kids won’t resent the fact that their crazy mother refuses to provide store-bought bread. I know lunchtime finds them a bit self-conscious of the size and shape of the bread itself, so I’ve been working towards making the bread so delicious that they suffer the humiliation gladly. Here’s the latest evolution of our sandwich wheat bread:

Honey-Flax-Sunflower Wheat Bread
(makes a medium loaf)

1 ¼ cup water
3 Tablespoons honey
2 Tablespoons butter
1 ½ teaspoon salt
¼ cup sunflower seeds (I finely chop mine in the food processor so no one suspects there are nuts in the bread)
¼ cup ground flax meal
2 cups Whole Wheat flour
1 ½ cups unbleached bread flour
1 ¼ teaspoon yeast

Place the ingredients in the processor in the order listed. Bake on Whole Wheat setting.

Every bread maker is different, but mine takes these ingredients and makes bread that has a delicious crust, yet is soft and moist on the inside. It's full of wonderful flavors. Sometimes I substitute pumpkins seeds (ground up, of course) for the sunflower seeds. One of these days I'll get real crazy and throw in both! Gotta love my exciting life.