by Ann Bibby

I was introduced to Fair Trade by my younger step-daughter, the same one who frowns on my patronage of Starbucks. Whenever possible she buys Fair Trade goods believing that this helps producers in third world countries, and to some extent it does. Poverty levels have been lowered. Infant mortality rates have declined. Work conditions have improved.

But, while I was conducting a bit of research about the Fair Trade coffee brand Cafe Feminino, I stumbled across something that made me think a bit about our culture’s standard approach to improving the lot of those not lucky enough to have been born in a country civilized by western standards. Money does not buy women their rights. Read the rest of this entry »

Now that Mother’s Day has passed, perhaps you are looking at some wilting flowers. My husband rarely gives me flowers. Not because he is an unromantic soul; we have two abyssinian cats that will eat anything with a leaf no matter where it is placed, and then proceed to get sick. About a month ago, my husband told me about how the typical cut flowers we would purchase on Mother’s Day are grown with dangerous pesticides harmful to the workers. So what did I tell me husband? Read the rest of this entry »

This YouTube video is just a portion of this awesome film. It’s actually Chapter 5. But believe me, chapters 1-4 are also totally worth watching and if you go here, you can watch the whole thing from start to finish.

It’s about twenty minutes but it will be some of the most illuminating, eye-opening minutes you’ve ever spent watching any indie documentary. Show it to your kids and send the link to friends and family. Everyone in America should watch this film.

In the last week, three people have asked me what I’m doing for Black Friday. What, it’s like Christmas now? One person even asked me what I was going to wear. I don’t know if they were implying that I need to dress up in case a reporter asks me how early I got in line or whether they meant I should dress down in a sweatsuit so I can sprint and jostle and elbow tall shoppers in the groin without constraints.

So what happened to Thanksgiving? Are we multitasking holidays now, the way we do everything else at once? Do any of these people really think that I’m stupid enough to stand in freezing Maine weather at four in the morning just to get a better price on Victoria’s Secret Barbie or The Diva Dolls Do Dallas on DVD with additional footage not shown in theaters?

No, come Black Friday, which always sounds like a religious holiday to me, I’ll be tucked up in my warm bed snoring loudly enough to vibrate Geekdaddy’s pocket protector. Later on Black Friday or Mauve Monday or Taupe Tuesday or some other colored day, after a leisurely breakfast of whatever the kids didn’t scarf down like locusts, Geekdaddy and I will peruse the sales online and figure out where we want to spend the miserly sum per child we budgeted for Solstice this year. I can guarantee it won’t be at a big-box.

For one thing, there are the toy recalls which have really opened my eyes to what I want in my house — not just my kids’ toy boxes and rooms. Before I reach for my wallet, I want to know where that attractively packaged but possibly lethal toy came from. I want to know who made it, how old they were, how much they got paid and whether they were treated like a human being by their employer or forced to wait to relieve their bladders until the two 5 minute bathroom breaks they get a day. And, of course, I want unleaded not leaded when I fill up my cart.

Maybe my aversion to joining the Black Friday lemming parade is part of my unschooling philosophy or my liberal far left flaming radical political beliefs. Maybe I’m just oppositional like I’m always accusing my kids of being. (You’d kick at a football game, is what my brother says about me. No, I wouldn’t!) To my mind, this whole conspicuous (by its lack of thought for the consequences) consumption orgy is yet another symptom of so much that’s wrong with society and pop culture.

We’re trained to consume from the time we’re born and told that its for our benefit. (The big corporations are just making this stuff for us out of the goodness of their little black corporate hearts. They’re almost non-profits for goodness’ sake, absent the odd billion or two.) We get our ethical standards and values from ad slogans, corporate-sponsored TV shows and even bumper stickers. Who can forget the immortal line: He who dies with the most toys wins? Makes you want to run right over to Wally World and buy three of everything so you’ll have more, doesn’t it?

But back to Black Friday and what I’m doing that day. Well, I may be writing ad copy for my safe toy blog, How to Find Safe Toys, ironic as that may sound coming from someone who just dissed commercialism and consumers. I confess that I’ve been examining my motives vis a vis affiliate sales lately. I’ve talked it over with my spiritual advisors — my Black Lab, Jetta, and my brother, Uncle Wil the Pirate CowboyHypnotist. They’re usually pretty good at helping me see whether what I’m doing is A Good Thing or A Bad Thing. (You can’t beat Labs or Cowboys for that; they see everything in black and white.)

I (and they and most of my 100 closest friends who were bugged by me with a veritable snowstorm of emails) agree that one of the ways to fight this commercial stupidity is to offer people alternatives to it. Humans are always going to buy stuff. Heck, when archaeologists dig up Early Human graves, there’s stuff in there that was buried with them. Yes! Early Humans had stuff too and probably had to move to a bigger cave every few months to store it all. Like crows, human adults and children are attracted to shiny pebbles, glitz and glitter and things that whir and move. (Also to things that need batteries, but that’s another post.)

My list of safe toy companies provides an alternative to the malls and big box stores. You don’t have to wear your heels to gouge other shoppers’ insteps. You can buy dolls that don’t need contraceptives or a motel room for pretend play. Blocks and toy trains with non-toxic paint are still on the menu for toddlers who put everything in their mouths - and that would be all toddlers in my experience. (Some tweens and teens too.) Best of all, when we shop at ethical companies, we’re supporting a better world in my view. My bottom line is that I think it’s way better to buy fewer toys and better toys from companies that treat their customers and the earth with respect. And, of course, that goes for everything else, not just toys. That’s why, this Black Friday, I won’t be in line; I’ll be in bed.

Cross-posted from Ms. Booty Homemaker Explains It All To You.
Ever in an effort to simplify, go greener by reduction of my family’s carbon footprint, and live in a way that jives with ideals and principles, I’ve recently made a commitment to shy from conventionally raised meats in favor of locally humanely and free range / grass fed animals. We women of this country, as the buyers of most things our households require, exercise the greatest purchasing power of all: 83% of all spending in the US, according to Time Magazine. And because right is right to do and because it really does matter where we put our money, as we are an economical force ripe and ready to create change that does ALL of us good, I’m doing what I can, when I can, both for the nutritive and ethical health of my family and for the good of my community, and my planet. Lofty? Yeah. Elitist? I hope not.

I’ve gone round and round about this from multiple standpoints, and while my Mister still regularly purchases chicken livers from the Kroger deli in throwaway plastic clamshell packaging, I feel it’s important and worthwhile to continue to do our part as a whole. We’ve had a CSA membership with Delvin Farms for several years now, and now, along with some mama friends, I’ve sought out local humane sources for the meat that our family continues to choose to eat. Vegetarian for a number of years, I’ve found that I just do better with meat, and feel strong and best about it when the source is right. To that end, this week has had a gaggle of us running from one end of town to the other with a host of coolers and drop off and pick up points for whole processed chickens from a Centreville family, and both beef and lamb from a Mennonite farmer just over the Kentucky line.

All of this took a great deal of coordination and phone calls and emails and such, as this is the beginning of something we hope will sustain our community farmers, AND our families for some time to come. One morning as Maria and I hammered out some details by telephone, Ziggy and another child I’ve been watching occasionally played on the swingset and in our backyard sandbox. “You know,” said Maria, “sometimes we might complain about how much all this effort is taking and I have to call so and so again, but think of the community we’re building around this!”

Right she is. We’re also compelled, in these interactions, to rely on one another, to share our lives and to become less isolated. For me, a highly social being with a not so social husband who is gone from home seven days a week, this is critical. As it is for our very social toddler. The Mister, by his own admission, benefits from this network of community though he himself is not drawn toward growing it or maintaining it in large part. I have to say, however, that he is appreciative and involved when called on, as we have all relied heavily on one another in times of distress (illness, hospitalizations, marital strife, work loads…) AND in times of celebration (weddings, births, housewarmings and birthday parties). Too, during these get togethers (in person, by telephone, and online) based on task, we plan up additional projects, share recipes, pass along toys and clothing from one child to another, support one another’s businesses and organizations and in general create a larger nest for our respective broods.

These friends, these connections, keep me wed to not just my husband (five years right ’round the corner) but also to my *life* in a deep way. Spiritually, ethically,  socially, with joy and with gratitude. They keep me accountable and I enjoy that, seeing the rewards reaped for my boy and my man, in addition to my own self. Like I said, I’m social, and I recognize that not everyone shares this need for symbolic hand-holding round the pot of Stone Soup, but for those of us that do, finding our tribe is vital to our wellbeing.

And good food– sown, grown, harvested and then prepared with some local lavish love– binds us all together. Of late, that meant fresh salsas and simply *amazing* vegetable enchiladas for our Fall Fiesta, a combination housewarming and second birthday party for our boy. There’ve been salads and farm fresh egg sandwiches, and this very morning, butternut pancakes, in response to Ziggy’s request for “Cake, please, Mommy!” in all likelihood a holdover craving from the pumpkin chocolate chip concoction for aforementioned party. And then last night there was this marvelous soup, as sustaining for the spirits as for the nurturing of the bodies of my family.

In thinking of how to best marry a chicken I thawed with a slew of goodies from my most recent CSA share, I was pondering on fall and warmth and came up with a nice variation on sweet potato chicken soup.

Sweet Potato Chicken Soup with Greens

Ingredients:

1 small whole chicken
Olive oil, pat of butter
3-4 ribs celery, chopped
1 carrot, sliced in half moons
2 onions, chopped
1 green bell pepper, chopped
1 red Hungarian pepper, minced
4-6 cloves garlic, chopped
5 small – medium sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed
Salt, pepper, cinnamon
1 bunch mustard greens, chopped

Boil chicken in liberally salted water and cool in its own broth. Sautee celery, carrot, onion, peppers, garlic in olive oil w/ a small pat of butter until all are slightly caramelized. Pull cooled chicken (will be warm, but NOT hot) from the broth. Add veggies to the broth pot and boil gently. Salt and pepper soup, add a dash of cinnamon. Pick cooled chicken, discarding skin and fat, save the bones in a freezer zip lock for soup another time. You can cube chicken or leave in rough pieces. Ten to fifteen minutes prior to when you want to eat soup, add your greens (use any dark fall / winter green) to the top of the soup pot and place lid back on, allowing them to steam but retain bright green color.

I would have made this spicier, but declined to do so in favor of the boy’s palate, which enjoys spice but not hothothot. The Mister and I seasoned our bowls of soup with the deliciously tangy green Tobasco sauce.

I imagine you could do this soup with any slightly sweet winter squash in place of the sweet potatoes. You could add a shot of lime and tortilla chips and add cumin to the seasoning. Canned tomatoes and / or green chiles would also be nice here. The variations are endless. In this one, the cinnamon with the spicy pepper and the Tobasco was really nice and very Autumnal.