In: Navel Gazing
12 Jul 2010Apologies for a somewhat fatalistic post.
Tarballs from the Deepwater Horizon spill are now washing up in Galveston, with oil on other East Texas beaches. Granted, tar isn’t exactly unusual on the beaches here, but it still feels ominous.. They’re combing it up off the beaches as it shows up (like they comb up any other crap that washes onshore).
Police were called in to deal with an unidentifiable animal – turned out to be a dog that went swimming and got tangled up in seaweed that had tarballs in it. (I can see the headline now: “Police called in to investigate Galveston Beach Swamp Thing”). The dog is OK, thankfully. How long before it’s the turtles that nest on Galveston’s beaches?
My brother and his fiancee visited us this weekend, and we decided not to go down to the seawall – probably not the best decision, but since we’d have packed a lunch, we wouldn’t have been doing much for the tourism there anyway. Much like the areas of Louisiana that are still struggling to recover from their hurricanes, Galveston still wears heavy scarring from Ike. September 11th of this year (that’s become something of an ominous date, yeah?) will mark 2 years since we were evacuated for Ike. I wonder what will have washed up in Galveston by then?
And there’s very little I can do.
I’ve made my donations to the relief effort, written letters. Now, I suppose, all that’s left is to wait and be thankful I’m not living on the coast farther east of here, where the oil and sludge is washing onshore in a toxic slurry.
In: Navel Gazing|house
23 Jun 2010I live in Texas.
In Texas, it is HOT in the summer. Our air conditioner runs almost continuously during the heat of the day, and we keep it set at 80 degrees. Running an electric clothes dryer, even one next to the wall that vents outside, only adds to that burden and contributes to my being a sweaty mess, sitting half-naked under a ceiling fan eating frozen grapes.
Ahem.
So I decided to pester Spaceship Husband until he’d help me set up a clothesline. (I’m short, he’s tall. Much easier if he helps.)
After some hemming and hawing, we opted for a “trial run” of a clothesline looped between two trees in our yard. I’d suspect it cost about $10 to set up – two bags of clothespins and a length of poly clothesline. It’s not perfect (it tends to loosen itself), but it works for now and will be super easy to take down if we have guests/etc.
I’ve learned a few things though, since I installed it. Call it “trial by sunlight” if you will:
I’ve been pretty pleased with the results. For one, it encourages me to do laundry intermittently, and not try to cram it all into one hot day whereby I swear off even looking at the washer for another two weeks. It also gets me outside – which is HOT too, but for some reason it’s different being in the sun/wind than it is roasting away folding hot clothes in my living room. (Also, the clothes off the line are sun-warmed, but not nearly as burn-your-knuckles-on-a-button hot as clothes out of the dryer).
And honestly, with as much time as I spend in the garden, I’m out there anyway – I can usually hang a load of damp clothes from the washer, water the garden, weed, do any other garden chores, and then take things down.
Now for the eco-bullshit part.
I’ve debated about writing this post for a few weeks, because of what it could get construed into meaning.
There is so much crap, for lack of a better term, piled onto things like this. I’m not necessarily trying to “get off the grid” (I like me some internets), and I’m not trying to be political. But I do think it’s smart to take advantage of things – like my time (I’m still unemployed) and the sunshine and wind, and my love of gardening and being outside. And if that can be “eco-friendly”, save energy or water, or save myself a few bucks, I’m all for it. That doesn’t give me any moral superiority, it’s just what I can do with what I have.
I think taking care of the earth is smart and responsible. I also think that living like a “modern human” is pretty great too.
I’m not sure why it’s so politically charged to replace burned out light bulbs with fluorescents (which, admittedly, have their own issues) or use reusable things vs. disposable ones or have a garden or recycle or maybe put up a clothesline or a rain barrel (most of which are done as much in the name of saving a few dollars as being “eco-friendly”) without getting sucked into the judgmental, us vs. them, “green” bullshit.
I guess what I’m looking for is perspective – not making things into some great political decision, not demonizing someone who can’t afford to do “X”.
I like showers and my washing machine and being able to read a book in bed with the light on (or turn on a light so I don’t stub my toe into the bathroom door at 3am). And I like growing a garden and finding ways to keep it happy without using chemicals (when I can) and drying my clothes on a line and canning pickles.
That shouldn’t sound mutually exclusive, and I don’t think it has to be.
And I’m really not sure where I’m going with this, at this point. I’m obviously not saying that being environmentally conscious is bad. I just think that there HAS to be a middle ground somewhere, and that there’s a level of name-calling and finger pointing that gets lumped into these kinds of discussions that I don’t like. These kinds of “eco-conscious actions” get politicized so often, and they don’t need to be. Some of them are just fun for me to do (pickles), others make financial sense (clothesline, energy saving appliances), others are little, practical things that anyone can do (using a reusable vs. disposable thing). There’s a HUGE margin (and a happy medium) between Patrick Pollution and Ginny Granola*.
I think most of us fit in the middle somewhere, and that’s OK.
*How did granola get to be such a symbol of the radical environmental movement? It’s tasty…
In: life
22 Jun 2010It’s happened to the best of us. I’ve heard stories of cell phones in back-pockets getting dumped in public toilets (ewwwww) or of people accidentally knocking purses into fountains or the ever amusing “throw your friend in the swimming pool at a party and discover you’ve ruined his smartphone” story.
Everyone knows that cell phones and water just don’t mix that well.
I had yet to discover this personally… until Saturday evening. My inlaws were in town and had made a quick run to the hardware store with Spaceship Husband to purchase… something. Plywood I think (we were hurricane-prepping the house). Anyway, I opted to stay home and get some work done, folding some laundry off the line and doing dishes and stuff. While I was doing dishes, I decided to move my phone so it wouldn’t get wet.
Oh Murphy’s Law, I should know by now not to tempt it.
Long story short, I dropped the phone in a sink of soapy dishwater. It went burbleburbleburble for about 5-10 seconds while I fished around trying to find it.
I voided the warranty on both the phone and the battery (my little red “you were an idiot and put your phone in water” stickers are both very very red). Thanks to some people on twitter and some quick Google-Fu, I learned the process by which you attempt to salvage a wet cell phone:
(Note: If your phone was submerged in salt water, you should rinse it completely in fresh water before doing any of the following – water is bad, but dried salt will corrode the inside of your phone. VERY bad news.)
At that point, the phone will be pretty well dried out. Shake all the rice out of it (I had a few pieces get into the back cover of my LG Vu but they were easy enough to dislodge), put the SIM card and battery back in, and see if it’ll start. If it does, give someone a quick call to make sure the mic and speaker parts are still functional as well.
If it /won’t/ – give it a few extra days. I was lucky, and after 48 hours in a plastic container full of brown rice, my phone started up with no problems.
Ideally though, just keep your cell phone out of the dishwater.
In: life
12 Apr 2010So let me preface this by saying that I have been unemployed since September, and as such Laundry Duties are usually mine.
The scene this morning, around 8am:
SSH: “I have no pants.”
Me: “No pants? But I did laundry last Tuesday.”
SSH: “All my pants are in the hamper.” <points to empty closet rack, containing only empty hangers and no pants>
Me: “How did you wear every pair of pants you own since last Tuesday?!”
Turns out his usual work jeans had escaped behind the hamper, and I’d not washed them with the rest of the clothing. So he went off to work in his least-rumpled pair of Khakis (Downy Wrinkle Releaser is a WONDERFUL MAGICAL THING).
Pants 1
I set out to do the rest of the laundry. Separated, etc. Set the first load – which was mostly pants (both his and mine) – in the washer, went to turn it on… and I was out of laundry soap.
Pants 2
So I found some more laundry soap under the sink (Thank Whatever for Target having the soap we use on clearance a few months back so I bought an extra bottle). Did the wash, etc. Wash machine beeps loudly, I transfer the soggy pants into the dryer and turn it on.
At which point I find myself standing in a cloud of flying fuzz.
Let me explain. Yesterday was Anti-Bugs-In-House day, whereby we put down more borax in the attic and baseboards and stuff, and SSH put spray foam (aka: Great Stuff) in any holes in the brick and whatever. Apparently this included the dryer vent, and thus required that the dryer hose be disconnected. I, not noticing this, turned on the dryer. The hose, disconnected, blew dryer lint all over my kitchen.
Pants 3.
I’m glad I wore a frigging skirt.
(Oh, and no. There are STILL no clean pants. I will update if the pants score more points.)
Hi! I'm Anna.
I ramble, have too many hobbies, and post anything that strikes my fancy. On any given day, I might be knitting, sewing, working on my house, presenting a recipe or discussing something deeper. Though maybe food can be pretty deep too.
Stay awhile and look around, who knows what you'll find?