Living Green

Note: If you’re not a greenie you may be totally bored by this post, but go ahead and read it. It’s like oatmeal. It’s good for you.

This weekend Austin Convention Center hosted the Green Living Expo. The expo had tons of information on green building, sustainable food, and healthy living. I met several vendors, a couple of which deserve mentioning.

Nada Moo is a lactose-intolerant body’s best friend. It’s a coconut milk based ice cream. Quite yummy! The Java Crunch has to be my favorite. Unfortunately, the product is not on the east coast, yet.

I also found my new favorite cleaning product is Karmalade Scrubbing Souffles. The creator, Cynthia Brevil, has developed a gentle scouring agent that is completely green and safe. Karmalades come in several fabulous scents. My three favorites are Lavender Sugar Cookie, Lemon Meringue and Almond Butter. I bought one jar and told Cynthia that I would try it out and if I totally loved it I would come back for more. I scrubbed my kitchen and bathroom down. It worked so well that I bought three more jars. Karmalades are on etsy and it really is a great product. Plus, the packaging is pretty and recyclable to boot! The link is www.karamalades.etsy.com.

They also offered free yoga sessions at the expo. I took advantage and the results were jello-y. My body was contorted into several Cirque de Soleil positions. I haven’t done yoga in years, and it was all self work, so I never pushed myself to the point that I should have. Sara, the instructor, was not aware that I was fluxing between heaven and hell. I think I now know what torture victims endured during Medieval times. However, the end result was a relaxed pool of me.

There may not be a green expo where I am going, but I look forward to finding the “green” in WV.

Hoarders

I am at that point in the move preparation that I hate. I call it the Hoarder Stage. My apartment has items thrown everywhere. Some in sealed boxes, some in unsealed boxes (hey, I might need that stuff), some in a pile to be sorted into boxes, and a final sad pile. The sad pile are items that have been used to the point of discard, odd items that have been given as gifts, or to decrease another person's "To Purge" list. An example is the Dollar Tree plaque with the scroll embossed encouragement: With God All Things Are Possible. I don't disagree, but I think I can carry this in my heart and lighten the packing burden. I doubt God will be offended, but I will have a coffee chat with him later to be sure. I'll make the good French Roast.

See the problem with packing a small apartment is you have no where to store items to help you keep a sense of what stays and what goes off to a nice farm to play with other junked treasures in an open field with plenty of fresh air and a warm fire in the winter. I can imagine this is how hoarding starts. I can feel the stress and pressure of all the "stuff." The current state of my apartment makes Grey Gardens look like a lovely cottage B & B in upstate New York.

There were just a few things in the beginning. Over the years they have accumulated. You can always think of a reason not to let go of something. Everything has a story. Everything has a past. Sentimental chains that make us attach our very human emotions to a thing that wil never bring us a cup of French Roast. At some point you start thinking, "I just can't deal with the overwhelming mountainess (my word) of it all!" My plan is to jump into Weekend Warrior mode. It may take a Bond movie or two - or, a friend's fave, Full Metal Jacket. Hmmm . . . too much killing. I need something Zen. Perhaps a few candles. No. Fire hazard around moving things. Okay, my yoga videos and some sitar music. Dear Jesus, that will throw me into a trance. Okay, I'm back to Bond. Bond it is. The apartment will be transformed into a neatly packed storage unit by sundown Sunday.

Divergence

The purpose of this blog is to explore what happens when a self-created urbanite returns to her hometown. My progression from small town sweetheart (I will make myself appear very movie-like ingenue in these posts to deter boredom) to big city mover and shaker (cliches tie into the whole movie theme - go with me) began over a decade ago. I have shaped my persona in Gainesville, FL (I started small and safe), NYC (now you get the picture), and Austin, TX (the only democratic city in all of Texas). I have experienced things that seem dreamlike to me. Now, due to unforeseen circumstances, I am returning to my hometown. Isn't that the safe way to excuse yourself from explanations? "Due to unforeseen circumstances." Anyway, I am returning to Huntington, WV.

I visualize this branching and automatically thought of a divergence. However, is this more like a tree growing back into itself? The branches turning back into the trunk? I am attempting to keep myself from turning in and find ways to continue to branch out. I have to for my own survival. Most people worry about larger things; I'm petty.

This is the basis of this blog. How does one survive moving from very large cities (NYC 8.5 million - Austin over 1 million) to a small town of roughly 50,000. That includes the outlying towns; Huntington proper isn't even that big.

I could list all the things I'm going to lose as a result of this move: live music everywhere I walk, opportunities to perform in experimental pieces, availability of certified organic food, Whole Foods (the nearest one is 3 hours away) . . . . However, I want to focus on what I can accomplish. If it isn't available what can I do to get it or make it happen?

As I go on my journey please call me out if I start my elementary whining of, "I can't do it." I may sometimes need a kick in the backside. Push me to explore and find ways to be creative, cultivating and culinary in my new surroundings.