9.30.2009

Quickie

Gah! It's been ages and I owe you a post. It's getting hard now. For one, I'm THIS CLOSE to buying some hair conditioner. Ezra won't let me near him with a brush and he has three tiny dreadlocks that may need to be cut out. And I'm starting to have the same problem.

There's also the mattress situation. I forgot that this year we would have to transition Ezra to a bed. The frame part was easy but there's something kind of yucky about buying a used mattress for him. We may just have to give in on that one.

The sewing is going very well but not quite fast enough. As Christmas looms on the horizon, I'm breaking out into a cold sweat. I plan to make sock monkeys and bean bag chairs and kids pjs and all kinds of fun stuff. We'll see how far I get. The kids may get passes to the zoo instead. As long as we don't buy "stuff", I guess it's OK.

Take a look at the dress I made for myself. Without the belt, it's kind of a sack but hey, it's my first garment!

9.02.2009

Fruits of our labour

I have all but abandoned this blog but fortunately not the project. Summer is a time for doing, not for writing. Right now I'm up to my ears in Italian plums from the tree in the backyard, not to mention Tom's enormous zucchini (sounds dirrrty). Today I baked up a fruit crumble, adding wild blueberries, and peaches from Frank's tree two doors down. I plan to take it out back with some forks and see who emerges. If all goes according to plan, it'll be plum tart tomorrow!




Update! The crumble was a success. So much so that Tom and Frank got out the ladders, and Ezra went a pickin' again. Who likes pie? Check out what a trip to Frank's garden can yield!




In other news, Ezra is obsessed with guitars and watching old reels of Bob Dylan on You Tube. How in the world did that happen? PS: That's a library copy of Rolling Stone--I didn't break the rules!

7.31.2009

In Honour of Hillside


I’ve decided to take this occasion to finally introduce myself on this blog. Indeed, this buy-nothing project is a family affair. There is more than one of us contributing to this endeavour, although my better half has very much taken the initiative and lead to make sure this thing sticks. She is the environmental engine with endless enthusiasm that keeps us ticking along. I’ve tried my hand at making toothpaste, but my bicycle maintenance skills have certainly fallen well behind her sewing productivity.

So what of the occasion that finally solicits my first contribution? It seems fitting that following our fourth visit to this fantastic festival, I should file a post. The Hillside Festival is a three-day music festival that takes place annually in July at Guelph Lake Conservation Area in Southwestern Ontario. The diverse, top-notch music presented at this unique festival should in no way be downplayed; however, Hillside goes beyond the music to encompass a sense community and consciousness that serves as a noteworthy model for what is possible. The Hillside community has grown up from its early days at an area park in Guelph more than 25 years ago to a full-blown music extravaganza that is run by an army of more than a thousand volunteers. You won’t find any corporate concessions or ads at Hillside. Aside from the logos of some local brews and the purveyors of very tasty food served up on site, you’d be hard pressed to find much in the way of a profit motive save the eclectic artisans offering their wares and the guys running the honey wagons, keeping the port-a-potties clean. Hillside takes its environmental impact very seriously and has undertaken extensive initiatives to lessen it. From reusable dishes washed by those ubiquitous volunteers, to the plentiful refreshing water dispensed free of charge from a large tanker, this festival proves what is possible.


And possibility is the point of this project. It is not about perfection. It is about embracing the possibility of living more in tune with our natural world. Our challenge is finding alternate ways of doing things to lessen our impact. Hillside encourages us by demonstrating solutions to this challenge. The Festival is not about denying oneself in the name of eco-consciousness, but rather living it up responsibly. Hillside’s solutions serve as a refreshing and courageous counterpoint to most other large-scale events where tap water is bottled in indestructible plastic for your convenience and beer cups overflow from garbage bins. The wasteful alternative was highlighted for me during a recent visit to check out the Jays at the Rogers Centre, where sometimes living it up includes a few beers. Not surprisingly, this posed a challenge to the project. I was left to scavenge a used cup from my friend with the hope that he didn’t have a cold and that this would qualify as less impactful. The problem was that the bartender refused to refill a used cup, despite the fact that the keg was tapped and she was pouring from cans! Yes, we reached a fine level of absurdity as we were not only wasting energy to recycle a can, but now we must pour it into a brand new cup too. Now to some this may seem a small detail hardly worth the trouble. To me, who has a serious eco-anxiety surrounding waste, particularly of the spatial kind, this small detail needs to be multiplied by all the beer patrons that night, this year, and at all the other sporting events around North America. This ridiculous waste doesn’t have to be. Hillside is an example of what’s possible.


Hillside is a shining light for what is means to care about the planet. It was great to spend a weekend at a place where you were encouraged to bring your own dishes, rather than scoffed at. You were required to reuse your beer cup (had to be purchased for $2), rather than feeling slight embarrassment for trying. And that is a key message for me from Hillside: we’re not the only ones. It’s okay to take these things seriously. In fact, I suspect future generations will appreciate it. So it’s time for me to hold my head a little higher when I take my reuseable container to pick up pizza slices; being the change is good. Thanks for making it fun, Hillside! See you next year.

6.27.2009

Dropping Acid

A trip to Value Village proves how limited the thrift option can be. Check out the sweet jeans C had to choose from. I had to BEG him to try on this pair of acid washed AWESOMENESS. All it needs is a fanny pack and the look is complete.



6.09.2009

I'm Sew Excited

And I Just Can't Hide It.

Carine and I hired a sewing tutor. Every Monday we turn the apartment into a sweat shop and sew our little asses off. Last week we sewed an apron. Next week we tackle a pattern.

Trudy has come through in a BIG way here and has supplied the sewing machine, tools, and other goodies, as pictured below. Yes, that is a pattern for underwear. Granny panties no less. It's what all you bitches are getting for Christmas. In red velvet. Mwahahahah.



6.08.2009

Lost Art of Canning and Preserving

I'm going to sign up for this workshop in August. Let me know if you want to join me!

6.06.2009

A Musical Quandary

I can't stop listening to this Angela Desveaux song. I keep thinking it's Martha Wainwright though. Can you hear it too?

Music poses a bit of a quandary for the project, does it not? Music, as it's played live is not a tangible or physical object but when it comes to reproducing its sound, it's inextricably connected to raw materials such as vinyl, polycarbonate, and other plastics. And in this sense it is a "thing"--a record in a jacket, a cassette or a CD in a jewel case.

The recent emergence of the mp3 format has changed things entirely. An mp3 file is not nothing, but it's no longer something that requires manufacturing, packaging, shipping, and eventual disposal. It's a sound byte, a lossy algorithm, compressed digital data stored in a virtual universe. Yeah, trippy. So what does this mean for the project? Is music stuff, or isn't it?

Vote and discuss.




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6.02.2009

Bad Hair Day

Life is pretty bad without conditioner. In fact, without conditioner this girl's a ratty, tangled, and static mess who's just emerged from a wind tunnel. And as if the hair gods weren't having enough of a laugh already, my hair blower died today. I even went so far as to scout out a viable replacement at Value Village but all I saw was a tangled mess of cords and dead hair in appliances resembling this one:



And to add insult to injury, it appears as if C now has the best hair of his life. We're talking epic hair. Amazing hair. R-Patz hair. It's wavy and tousled and HOT. I'm trying very hard to be happy for him.

5.31.2009

Bells' Angels

Today we took the whole fam damily down to High Park for the 2009 Bells On Bloor protest event. Not sure how many riders turned up, but a seemingly endless stream of cyclists poured out of the park, taking over Bloor St. on our way down to Queen's Park. Amazingly amidst the chanting, singing, and ringing of bells, Ezra still fell asleep right off the mark.

WHAT DO WE WANT? BIKE LANES!!!
WHERE DO WE WANT 'EM? HERE!!!
WHEN DO WE WANT 'EM? NOW!!!

RING A DING DING AMEN!!!




Here's the view from behind. Guess I should have told C to hike up his pants...

I don't recommend anyone simultaneously film, ring a bell, and steer a bike. Sorry for the wobbly footage.



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5.28.2009

Biblio-Blues

Summer is the season for juicy paperback novels. You know the kind. The kind you can't bring yourself to pull out on the subway. The bad kind. The totally embarrassing kind. The kind you don't even want to read in front of your husband. Because he is a non-fiction/literature type; a Ralston-Saul-Rohinton Mistry-reading man who can crack walnuts with his enormous brain. He would not be interested in a book that could quite possibly kill brain cells. Unlike myself.

The latest book to strike my fancy is entitled Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris, and is the first book in The Southern Vampire Mysteries (yes, the same books that inspired HBO's True Blood). But getting my hands on this one is easier said than done. I can no longer zip into my local Chapters and stock up on some light reading with the leftover Christmas gift cards littering my wallet. Now I only have one place to go. And it's called the public library.

It will be a long time before Sookie Stackhouse and I are reunited. I'm number 44 in the queue. At this rate, I'll be able to author my own fan fiction, entitled Dead Until Your Fines Are Paid For That Damaged Copy Of The Very Hungry Caterpillar". Or something like that.