Natural Deodorant Revisited

I always find it so funny that I sweat so much. Way more than DH. And if I'm not careful, best beware of my armpits!

Anyway . . . I blogged about natural deodorants a while back. I have been making Kimberlily's Recipe for Deodorant Cream, like I said I would, and it is, by far, the best natural thing I've used to control underarm funk. It works all day long. The other day I knew we would be out of the house all day long so I thought I better use some "real" stuff. I put on Dove antiperspirant/deodorant. That stuff quit in the middle of the day. Why did I doubt that the homemade would work?? It really, really works.

I usually make a double batch. It is stored in a glass jar but it would work much better in a squeeze bottle as it is a little runny (especially on hot days). I have to be on the lookout for some. So happy to find something that works so well. Oh, and that's not to say that the spray deodorant doesn't kill funk but it must be reapplied at some point during the day. The deodorant lotion lasts all day and all night and you will just smell the tiniest bit of mustiness in the morning. But that's cool because it's time to shower anyway.

Just contemplating . . .

So I received a suggestion the other day to do a rebuilding process to my hair using a product called Aphogee. Aphogee is basically a protein treatment that restructures and strengthens the hair. I am yet to find any information on doing the treatment on locks but I was thinking I'd be willing to try it because what's the worst that could happen? The worst is already happening, namely, lots of breakage.

But while in the beauty store today, it struck me: growing locks is to me an affirmation of my commitment to doing things the natural way. Reading long lists of ingredients with paraben this and hyrdoxyl that . . . I'm not sure if I want to try to preserve my dreads using such unnatural stuff, lab-concocted stuff or "natural" ingredients 15 times removed from nature. I think I'd rather use my natural castile soaps and Aubrey Organic shampoos and conditioners, shea butter, jojoba and coconut oils and apple cider vinegar rinses and rock a neat, sweet short 'fro when the locks eventually break off. You know, natural. I am having a hard time imagining using all these chemicals to keep these locks. It's not what I want to do no matter how much I'd like to keep these dreads on my head.

I know very well that the hair growing from your head at the root should be the strongest hair on your head. I know very well that this is something internal. I know that there is something I am missing that is making my once strong, lustrous hair frail and prone to breakage.

My sistren reminded me of a holistic hairdresser out in Brooklyn who might be able to at least give me some feedback/direction on my hair. Actually, this loctician is the one who started my first set of locks (I consider them my first--the real first set was installed by a guy who used a whole bunch of black gel and gunk--I knew I wanted my locks to be pure and natural so I washed them out after one week). Anyway, I've been calling her and leaving messages but to no avail. Hopefully I hear back soon.

In some ways, I'm anxious for my locks to break off completely. Either that or miraculously become strong. How can I stop being so focused on them?

I realized today . . .

That the first set of locks I had would have been 7 years old this summer. Some folks base being a committed veteran on how long a person has been growing their locks. I have to base it on how long I've been trying. Still, I hesitate to call myself a lock veteran or anything like that because I just don't have the length to support that claim.

I cannot even explain how much it means to me to wear locks without getting emotional. It chokes me up. Makes me angry and frustrated that they just won't grow properly. I can't properly describe how I felt when after washing my hair one day, while oiling it, I felt the first thin-rooted lock. How desperately I hoped it was a fluke. How despondent when I realized it wasn't.

Yet, I absolutely cannot stand when folks are sympathetic about my hair. Losing the first set, I would have been open to sympathy. This is what, the fifth set? I've lost count! I don't want sympathy at all!! Maybe empathy. But I don't really know many folks who empathize. At this point, it's just what it is.

DH has beautiful (I mean gorgeous) locks that have grown past his bottom. I laugh because when we met 5 years ago, he had some loose hair in his "kitchen" that are now full-fledged locks over a foot long. I can't believe his good fortune sometimes! I often think that, theoretically, I should be jealous, you know, of people with long, beautiful locks. But somehow, I'm not. It's separate . . . I don't want someone else's locks. I would have liked to have my own!

It has been such a tumultuous journey and struggle trying to grow locks. I started off as a loose natural, and locked because it meant commitment to my personal politics and to my spirituality. My personal politics and my spirituality have matured and changed over the years yet locks have always meant and still mean so much to me. My locks or lack of locks has been the source of a lot of hurt (I have been trodding in this RastafarI trodition where locks are the hallmark of ones who trod). To not have locks . . . I can't help but wonder how many people have questioned my commitment. I can't help to feel slighted when ones and ones will hail (greet) my Kingman (DH) but not give me a sideways glance. But I realize too, that those who matter don't mind and those that mind, don't matter. Because the sistren and bredren that mean the most to me in this world would still embrace me. Even if I were bald.

I have come to terms with the fact that my locks will never be long. It doesn't seem that my hair is strong enough to handle the weight of locks. And you know what? Even if I did find some magical potion that would strengthen my hair and guarantee that the locks would grow and wouldn't thin at the root and snap off, I'm not sure I would grow locks again. My spirituality has changed. How I view Jah has changed. Who I am as a person has changed. Your 20s are about changing and hopefully growing. Whereas I used to be highly concerned that I "looked the part", I'm no longer interested in being categorized or boxed in. I'm looking for true freedom and not a rule-book to follow. I'm learning how not to care when people look at me and make a whole list of assumptions based on what they see or what they think they see.

I remember as a little girl seeing people with locks. They were few and far between. I realized way back then that the only way I would have long, flowing hair would be to grow locks. Interesting. I ask myself if growing locks is really just my way of dealing with the Eurocentrism that says that long, flowing hair that blows in the wind is what is more desirable than hair that grows upward. I'd have to say, yes, that this has played a role in the drive to grow locks although I'm not quite sure how big a role. It's in there somewhere though. Yes, I do believe I'm conscious. Hip to the game, if you will. But that doesn't mean I'm not working to undo years of conditioning/socialization.

So there's the spiritual aspect and there's the vanity aspect (because, let's face it, locks are beautiful on men, women and children ) and there's the not-quite-yet resolved in my mind political aspect to growing locks (on the one hand, locks have for me represented rebellion and a certain consciousness but on the other hand there's the whole length/hair growing downwards issue because as a woman, I've been socialized to feel that long, downward growing hair is a woman's glory and beauty).

Nonetheless, I'm holding on to this set for dear life still though because right now, 2/3rds are either gone or on their way out. But I have come to terms with it. I guess, at some point, you would have to. I'm actually kind of looking forward to being a loose natural again. Kind of. I have to go buy some good brushes and combs. Refresh my braiding and twisting skills. Just get into loose natural mode again in a way that meshes with my new life as a busy mother (I just don't have 45 mins. at night to deal with my hair anymore--I used to watch t.v. while I twisted it or got it ready to be styled in the morning. Now . . . Watch t.v.? What is that?) I wonder if I should just wear a short, tight afro. Keep it short and sweet. I don't know.

The question right now is should I cut them now or just let them naturally do what they're going to do. My sister thinks I'm prolonging the inevitable. DH thinks I should do choice two and secretly, I'm hoping that I will experience enough new growth to maybe wrap the new growth around the weak locks and strengthen them. Already, areas where locks have broken have about 1/2" of growth stretched. Okay, I know that is far-fetched but . . . I'm going to keep them till at least they reach they're one year anniversary. I keep hoping that maybe I'll discover something that will keep these locks on my head.

I tell you this, though, this is my absolute last set of locks for this lifetime. Sounds so final, doesn't it?

How wide is the ocean??

My good sistren is in Ethiopia. She'll be teaching there for a year. She lived all the way on the other coast so it's not like we saw each other every day or talked on the phone daily. Still, it's a certain gravity to a distance when an ocean and not land divides. I am keeping her high on my list of meditation and sending nothing but positive energy to her. I know we are together in spirit. We always have been but I really miss her!!

Stagnation

I feel like I'm in a holding pattern. In a lot of ways, being a mother to young children, especially being the kind of mother I want to be, is restrictive. It's an "either/or" situation. Because I desire and strive to be an "Earth mama" of sorts, I find that 98% of my life revolves around my children. 98% of my time is devoted to my children. 98% of my energy goes to them. So with the other 2% I've got left, I try to feed me. But that 2% doesn't seem to be enough.

Two percent of 24 hours is exactly .48 hours. That's right. About a half an hour. Thirty minutes a day is generally what I have to myself. Of course, I try to squeeze out more time than that and that's why I'm usually doing my "things" at 3 o'clock in the morning. But that time is not really mine. I'm supposed to be sleeping. But even with the great squeeze I try to accomplish, I find that I'm usually too tired to do the things that would actually make me feel like I'm making progress.

Like editing my two children's books and getting them ready to send to publishers. Like writing chapter 2 of my memoir. Like starting an exercise routine and incorporating more raw foods into my diet so that I can feel better and lose the 40 pounds I'm still holding on to. Like learning more about and starting a Buddhist practice. Like meditating consistently. Like reading the way I need to in order to stay sharp and current in my academic field, in order to stay intellectually stimulated. I'm just too tired.

So I feel like I'm stagnated.

Lemon Squares!

Just a quick entry today . . .

I had some lemons in the fridge that I was going to use to make iced tea. Lately, though, the hubby has been making some delicious sorrel (iced hibiscus flower tea with freshly grated ginger) and it is the perfect, yummy, refreshing summer drink. Anyway, I didn't want the lemons to go bad so I thought I'd make some lemon squares. I've had some problems with this dessert in the past, mainly that it would come out too tart or it wouldn't firm up enough. So today, I was very careful with how much zest and juice I added, I added 3 more tablespoons of flour than the recipe called for, made it early in the morning and put it in the fridge to set and . . . it came out flawlessly. It's a really delicious, simple recipe found here.

Thinking about the ethics of eating

The other day I was reading a message board I frequent and came across a link for this blog entry about the palm oil that is used in Earth Balance buttery spread. For vegan cooking and baking, Earth Balance is the quintessential replacement for butter. It produces a soft, chewy cookie and, a flaky pie crust and a fluffy, creamy icing for cakes and fillings. It is completely vegan (plant-based) so it has no cholesterol yet it tastes and behaves surprisingly similar to real butter. In terms of taste and texture, it is superior to all other buttery spreads currently on the market. And, in light of recent news that suggests that trans-fatty acids produced during the hydrogenation of liquid fats are actually deleterious to our health, it's comforting to know that Earth Balance is not hydrogenated. What keeps it solid at room temperature, though, is palm oil, also marketed as "vegan shortening".

I remember growing up and watching my mother cook with palm oil, which was a deep red oil that separated into a thick solid mass at the bottom and a thin oil at the top. She used it to cook most every traditional Igbo meal most notably egusi soup. Egusi is melon seed. My mom would shell the seeds and then grind them. She would then fry them in palm oil and that would be the base for the soup to which she would add a maggi cube, onions, stock fish, chicken and a green leafy vegetable and serve alongside pounded yam (fufu). Goodness, my mouth waters just thinking about it. I was surprised to see the popularity of palm oil skyrocket when hydrogenated oils fell out our good graces. First off, palm oil had such a pungent scent, such a deep color, and such a strong taste that I didn't know how they could be using it so liberally without it creating some weird smelling, off colored, awful tasting products. Through reading, I found that heating it through will eliminate the smell, color and taste. Wonderful stuff for the world of food manufacturing.

Anyway, the gist of the article is that in Malaysia and Indonesia, the farming of palm oil is destroying the delicate rain forest and driving many species of animals to extinction. Now, I didn't become vegan for any ethical reasons (I was what you call a strict vegetarian as the truest meaning of vegan is one who completely eschews all animal products and by-products for ethical reasons). I wasn't motivated by my desire to save the earth or a feeling of camaraderie with chimpanzees and cows. What I was interested in when I made that drastic change almost 6 years ago was healing myself of debilitating allergies, poor eyesight, problematic skin and excruciating menstrual cramps. Interestingly enough, becoming vegan did not heal any of these issues but rather saddled me with a new set of problems. I digress. Now that I'm not vegan anymore (it seems though that for me, a little animal protein seems to do my body good and so I struggle with trying to find sources of ethically produced eggs which is almost impossible if you live in an "inner city area," i.e. "the hood" and sources of the purest forms of cod liver oil that do minimal harm to the habitats of the cod), it's interesting that I'm actually more interested in the environmental impact of our diet. As a matter of fact, in my opinion and experience, the environmental benefits of veganism trump the health benefits.

When I first became vegan, I tried so many different buttery spreads and Earth Balance won in every aspect. I've been using it faithfully for years now. I can't say I'm willing to stop either. And I can't help but feel a little guilty. I'm really trying these days to at least be conscious of how my actions affect the Earth and it seems like something as minute as eliminating Earth Balance from our list of acceptable foods is relatively easy in the scope of things. But my "cold turkey" conversion to vegetarianism six years ago and the fact that I did not achieve what I set out to achieve by converting has given me a real psychological resistance to any other changes despite the fact that sluggish digestion and serious intestinal issues suggest that it is indeed necessary to completely revamp my diet (and I'm not quite sure in which direction this revamping will go although I will say that meat doesn't even appeal to me anymore and I'm trying to kind of make peace with eating a little fish--poor fish). But I've been trying very hard to let go of things. I've given up on products with hidden MSG and things like agave nectar that I'm not entirely sure of. I'm just not ready to give up the Earth Balance. I keep thinking of broccoli florets without Earth Balance and toast without Earth Balance. Well, what about freshly baked muffins and breads without Earth Balance!?! It is really part and parcel of our daily eating (and enjoyment).

Of course, I talked about this with the hubby and he said, "Please don't get on another runaway train." He's talking, of course, about my habit of finding out information and running with it and eliminating all these things that he actually likes. I was telling him about the rain forest and palm oil and Earth Balance and he interrupts me to say, "Wait, the rain forest isn't gone yet? They've been talking about its destruction since I was 4 years old!" Of course, he was being facetious but he is a firm believer that the Earth won't let us destroy it before it destroys us. In my heart of hearts, I agree.

Right now, it's chic to be "green" and hip to be "eco-friendly". It's also expensive and oftentimes more difficult to be these things. As a woman of color, it's ironic that all these crusades to save the Earth are usually championed by wealthy, White folks who can afford to do the "green thing". I've started to get the vibe that those who can't afford to be "eco-friendly" are the ones harming the Earth but those who can afford to buy $5 reusable bags from Whole Paycheck (but drive ginormous SUVs) are the ones who really care. I try not to generalize and I try not to be biased on these things but . . . really and truly, it's White people (not all White folks, of course, and maybe not even the majority) who've gone all over the world, raped and pillaged, destroyed whole eco-systems harvesting raw materials, devastating traditional economies and setting the people on a straight-course to grinding, inescapable poverty. It's actually offensive to see some of these same folks advocating and motivating the "green movement". Especially when you peel back a few layers to discover that it's just another way to make money; another way to get people to buy more stuff, albeit "eco-friendly" stuff.

Still, I wonder if there is truly any way to eat sustainably and ethically, though. It seems that the only true option to achieve this lofty goal is to grow your own food and (if you do use animal products) raise your own animals on a very small scale where everything is composted, recycled, and reused and very little waste is produced and disposed of responsibly.

I find products like Earth Balance to be a friendly introduction into the world of more conscious eating, though, and it's just so darn sad to learn that something called "Earth Balance" may actually be doing the opposite.

Maybe I'm just uptight

But I think it's so rude for ya'll to be playing music LOUDLY at 10:15pm. I'm all for having parties and having a good time. It's your right. But when your right to have fun encroaches on my right to put my kids to sleep peacefully, it's a real issue. Your music is so loud, I can't even tell where it's coming from. It's bouncing off the concrete and ricocheting around. Shoot, I thought 2 parties were going on. I don't want to have to come ask ya'll to shut it down or at least lower the volume because I ain't sure if ya'll'll take to that kindly. I don't want to have to call the cops on ya'll because you know how I feel about law enforcement. I just really wish ya'll could or would exercise some common courtesy.

It's now 10:20 and there's no end in sight.

The joys of living in the 'hood.

Politics

The first election I was eligible to vote in was the one Bush stole. As an 18 year old back then, I still wholeheartedly believed in the process and thought that it was actually "we the people" who decided who would be our president. This despite the fact that I had a much more than average knowledge of the political process here in the U.S. having taken advanced placement U.S. History (and scoring a perfect score, on the exam). But I still held out hope that the system still worked and that our elected officials were actually chosen by and representative of us. In college after having that first negative political experience, I became very active politically (more so after leaving the academically intense, stifling and frustrating 7-year B.S./M.D. program I was in), fighting to undo the wrongs and make them right. I was quick to participate in one demonstration or another, always loved to debate politics, loved the "Black conscious" poetry scene (and the corresponding persona of a Black conscious sista) and wrote for my school's newspaper. I stopped wearing my hair in braid extensions (I had long since given up on relaxers that just made my hair weak and caused massive breakage but I was still not comfortable with my own natural, highly textured hair) and started to wear it out in an afro. Eventually, I let my hair lock. I stopped wearing my bootie hugging jeans and shirts with plunging necklines and exchanged my "hoochie mama", South Bronx girl look for one that I thought was more befitting an African queen--long skirts, daishikis, and cowry shells. I stopped eating meat and eliminated all animal products from my diet after reading books like Nutricide and becoming convinced that the poisonous food-like substance Black people were eating were actually killing us. Eventually, my politics merged with my spirituality and I started down the path of RastafarI. I wore my headwrap high and could usually be seen with some kind of pin or button declaring my newfound overstanding (understanding) and consciousness. I wanted to repatriate to Africa as soon as possible and leave Babylon to burn.

I wore my politics on my sleeve. I was a rebel and happy to be. It suited me and annoyed and worried the hell out of my parents.

Since leaving college and especially since getting married and having children, I thought I'd become extremely apathetic to politics. I look back at all the posts to this blog and I realize that so very few posts tackle any political issues. When I got married almost five years ago and relocated, I didn't even bother to re-register to vote. Back in college, I may have looked down on this version of Chi-Chi who is not really doing anything to bring about revolution and instead wastes her time blogging. That Chi-Chi would ask, "What about the novel that was to be written by the age of 25 that would be as ground-breaking and provocative as Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart?" She'd ask, " What about repatriation? Shouldn't you already have had a free school built in some remote part of Africa single handedly healing the pain of slavery and colonization?" How is breastfeeding and cloth diapering revolutionary?" she'd sneer, looking down her self-righteous nose and wondering just how, just how did I fall so far out of the struggle? "You ain't even representin' right now . . . where's your headwrap? Where's your red, black and green flag and all your corresponding paraphernalia?" I'd wonder. "You look like an ordinary brainwashed Black person," I'd say, shaking my head in shame and disappointment.

Time (growing up) and the reality of living life has hit and hit hard. Very hard.

But I realize something that has made me feel a lot better about where I am. I'm still not significantly interested in election politics. I don't believe that my vote actually counts on the presidential level and I'm still undecided on if it counts locally. I wasn't registered to vote when my fellow townspeople twice voted down a school budget that would have increased property taxes 8% but that would have also kept interscholastic sports--I'm not sure my vote would have counted to pass the vote as it seems the overwhelming majority voted against it. I can't say I blame them for voting against it either because times are indeed hard and it seems like every day I see a newly boarded house. People are really struggling. What I did realize was that I am intensely interested in the politics that affect women and children, especially women and children of color, on a smaller, day-to-day scale. I've been fortunate to find a few blogs that inform me and and allow me to engage in dialog which as a stay-at-home mom is invaluable. It's often hard to stay current and intellectually sitimulated. when chasing around a 3 year old and a very active 7 month old (hey, the doctor just told me my heart rate is slow which is something they usually see in very athletic people--since I'm the antithesis of an athlete, I must be doing a heck of a lot of running around) and it's even harder to stay intellectually stimulated (I spent about 5 minutes the other day trying to convince Z1 that the orange popsicle was really just as good as the red one and another 2 minutes today trying to convince him to not put his pants on backwards which he did anyway). It's really great to read, learn and feel connected again even if I'm not a visible, outspoken Revolutionary and even if I'm in a sleep-deprived place where I cannot formulate heady, educated, thought-provoking responses to topics that are put forth.

I no longer feel that the revolution is going to be this grand scale event. It's going to happen on a very small scale and may even go unnoticed by those who have willfully blinded their third eye. Gil Scott Heron said it first: The Revolution will not be televised and I posit that you probably won't get an e-mail about it or find it posted about on your favorite message board/blog. The first and most important revolution, after all, begins inside. I feel like my work mothering and being a wife is indeed revolutionary. I'm grateful for these resources that support that.

Where you pee coming from?

So we went to the beach today which Z1 and Z2 absolutely loved. Z1 really enjoys playing with sand and once he got comfortable in the ocean, really enjoyed that too. We had a blast! So much so that both Z1 and Z2 passed out on the way home (around 5 o'clock in the evening) and stayed asleep till 7 AM the next day! Z1 didn't even get up to eat dinner! We were shocked! Now I know what to do if I need a break: wear the boys out by taking them to the beach!

Anyway, Z1 now realizes that he's a boy and is not ashamed to talk about his penis. In public. Luckily he pronounces it "peanuts" so most folks have no idea. He's still allowed in the bathroom with me when I'm showering or dressing and the other day he asked me where my penis was. I told him I don't have one. So we were getting ready to leave the beach and I took him with me so I could wash him up, let him pee and dress him and myself. I had to pee too and did so. He got the most quizzical look on his face and asked me "Where you pee pee coming from, Nam? You butt?" Oh my god . . . I almost fell over! He was so serious too and wanted an answer. I said, "No sweetheart, it comes from my urethra." "Uwetha?" "Yes, darling."

I love having children.

Robbed!

We had a great day. My friend and I took our sons to a new playground which we all liked. I had packed all the stuff into the car and strapped the boys in, ready to go. I went to look in my armrest to get my GPS so we could go home using the shortest route. It was gone. Along with my cell phone charger and Ipod adapter. I called the hubby to see if for some strange reason he had gone in my car and taken the items. He said no. I thought about where it could be and then I accepted that I had been robbed. Luckily, they didn't break any windows or anything. Maybe I forgot to lock the doors or maybe Z1 was messing with my keys and opened the car. Somebody either noticed that the car was opened and no one came out or he/she may have just been trying doors to see if any had been left open.

You know I hate to drive. The GPS gave me a whole lot more confidence. I was so angry and hurt. I've been trying hard not to curse. I'm trying to cure myself of growing up in the South Bronx. ;) But I cursed. I used every expletive known to man. I was so heated. And would you believe? This idiot who stole the dang GPS didn't take the cradle for it. You need the cradle to charge the dang thing!!!!!!!!! So now, unless the thief is going to go purchase a new cradle, he/she can't even use it!! What a waste! I've contemplated leaving the cradle on the hood of my car nightly to see if the person comes back to get it. At least then it will be useful to someone.

This is the second time I've been robbed while living in this town. The first was when I was pregnant with Z1 and it was just a blessing that with me having to pee every 15 seconds I didn't run into the thieves who broke in and stole our wallets, cell phones and keys.

Every time I tell folks that I was recently robbed, they blame it on the economy. I think that's a load of excrement. Good, hard-working, honest people don't automatically start robbing other good, hard-working, honest people when times are hard. Is it naive to believe that? Am I naive in that I hold out hope for the goodness and god-likeness of people to prevail over their base selves?

I sure miss my GPS.

Branching Out Scarf and a New Project

So I completed the Branching Out Scarf and it presented a bit of a challenge without driving me nuts. It was my first lace knitting pattern (I've crocheted lots of lace).




Specs:
2 skeins Classic Elite Wool BamBoo
Size 8 circular needles
Started June 27, 2008
Finished July 14, 2008
If you're on Ravelry, see more details here.

I learned the value of lifelines when you're knitting fairly complex patterns that would be difficult to frog back. The yarn is luscious and it came out really nicely although I can spot some errors.

I'm ready to move on to my next knitting challenge which are socks. I'm going to be working on Monkey, another Knitty pattern. The yarn is Regia Silk in Venezia (181). I bought 4 skeins thinking I was going to do Clessidra but I think since Clessidra is a cabled pattern, the variegated Regia Silk will just look too busy. But I still really want knee highs so I'm just going to do more repeats of the Monkey pattern to get a knee high sock. I have no idea when I'll cast on. I'm still working on the Placket sweater and I'm almost up to the sleeves. It's certainly no rush.

So they've cut athletics . . .

The town I live in is predominantly Black--mostly African-American and immigrants from the Caribbean. The school budget (which would have caused school taxes to go up) failed to pass last month so the school board passed an austerity budget which effectively eliminates all interscholastic sports (as well as over 100 teaching positions). No football, no basketball, no cross country, no soccer, no track and field, no cheerleading, no volleyball, no tennis, no swimming, no wrestling, no baseball, no softball, no golf. Nothing.

The big news last week was that someone got shot on the avenue which is the main shopping area aside from a Target complex.

I just wonder what the hell these folks think will happen when the kids return to school in September only to find that sports are no more. Idle hands, idle hands, idle hands.

I feel awful that my nephew, who's not a fan of school at all, finally sounded excited about the prospect of going to school even if the only reason was to play basketball. Playing would have given him a reason to take more of an interest since his being on the team would depend on his academic achievement.

I am set on homeschooling the boys (which my town is decidedly not very supportive of) but at the same time, I'd love the option of sending them to public school if I needed to. Every day, this town makes it harder and harder to see the public schools here as a viable option.

And to add to the mix, I realize living in this town is just a trip. On the one hand, many of the residents (on one side of town) are at or below poverty level yet a simple summer pleasure such as going to the pool will run you $5.75 each time (in addition to the $45 park pass for which you must pay cash) while on the other hand, free activities that would enrich the lives of our children are being thrown in the trash one by one. I dare you to find *one* accessible, safe, clean, new playground in this town. It's a shame. It makes you wonder. It makes you frustrated and angry. And then it makes you wonder what you can realistically do. It often makes you feel helpless.

It will take $950,000 to reinstate sports in this town. I wonder how this money will be raised when folks can't even really afford to drive anymore.

If you didn't think the economy was in a slump before . . .

This week alone

I have cut four locks, each one excruciatingly thin at the root. I have determined not to cut this set of locks but I am facing the possibility that like in previous go-rounds, I will end up with only a handful of locks. So I'm going to follow this set of locks to it's natural end and then I will probably start working seriously on reversing some of the traction alopecia I'm experiencing at my edges and growing out my loose hair.

I'd be lying to say this doesn't bother me. But surprisingly, I'm okay. It's kind of like the allergies and the myopia--two challenges I'm dealing with in this lifetime. I've accepted them and now the challenge is to not let these things conquer or discourage me. These things are not what make me Chi-Chi. They don't define I.

On another note . . .
I used to shop at Whole Foods (Whole Paycheck) which is 20 minutes away by car for our organic produce and groceries usually racking up a $250 bill each time. I have since stopped doing that and now purchase most of fruits and veggies at the local Korean owned fruit and vegetable store. So, the produce is not organic or even locally grown. I'm trying to sort out in my mind whether it is better to buy this produce that is close to me, i.e. I can walk to get it or should I be making the efforts to drive (which ya'll know I hate) to farmer's markets to get locally grown. The question is: burn gas to buy locally grown food or walk to buy food that's been grown all over the world and shipped in? In my ideal world, my town or even the town next door would have great farmer's markets, great options. But that's not the case. One things for sure, buying fruits and veggies from a store close-by encourages us to eat more varieties of fruits and vegetables and keeps things from spoiling since I don't feel the need/pressure to try to buy a weeks worth of fruits and vegetables at once.

Update on Z1's potty learning . . . he's doing fabulously. He misses number 1's here and there but everything goes in the toilet now. Everything. And he generally wakes up dry in morning. As soon as Z2 is sitting up on his own, it's his turn.

Z1 also is developing a strong affinity for doing puzzles. Coloring and painting, not so much. I'm trying my best to not run out and buy him a whole slew of puzzles. I have a couple of notebooks around here--I'm going to draw the lines for beginning hand-writers so that we can begin writing letters. People are already starting to ask when he's going to preschool. I'm currently hemming and hawing about it. I know I'm going to homeschool him. I don't want to answer too many questions though.

So indeed I finished my little hair net . . .

It came out quite nicely!

I used Patons Grace 100% mercerized cotton in black and an "E" crochet hook (my second most favorite hook after "F"). It took me about 2 days to complete it and it fits really well. I'm not entirely sure if the black will make me too hot if I'm in the sun but as I'm wearing it now, it feels light and airy. Man, how I love a quick project!