44 Books I Read in 2011

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A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius *****
Author: Dave Eggers


Steve Jobs ****
Author: Walter Isaacson

The Emperor of All Maladies *****
Author: Siddhartha Mukherjee

The Time Traveler’s Wife ****
Author: Audrey Niffenegger



No Impact Man ****
Author: Colin Beavan

The Son of Man ****
Author: Charles W. Johnson

The Help ****
Author: Kathryn Stockett

2:46: Aftershocks: Stories from the Japan Earthquake ***
Authors: William Gibson, Yoko Ono, Barry Eisler, Jake Adelstein, & The quakebook community

Palm Trees on the Hudson: ***
A True Story of the Mob, Judy Garland & Interior Decorating
Author: Elliot Tiber

Jerome and the Seraph (Quantum Cat) **
Author: Robina Williams

Admit One: My Life in Film ***
Author: Emmett James

The Man Who Would Be King ***
Author: Rudyard Kipling

Soul Identity ****
Author: Dennis Batchelder

The Bookseller of Kabul ***
Author: Asne Seierstad & Ingrid Christophersen

To the Is-Land ****
Author: Janet Frame

An Angel at My Table ****
Author: Janet Frame

The Envoy from Mirror City ***
Author: Janet Frame

Writing Life Stories ****
Author: Bill Roorbach

Rainbows End *****
Author: Vernor Vinge

Labor of Love: The Story of One Man's Extraordinary Pregnancy ***
Author: Thomas Beatie

Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping ****
Author: Judith Levine

Cats Are Not Peas: A Calico History of Genetics *****
Author: Laura L. Gould

Bel Canto ****
Author: Ann Patchett

Not Wanted on the Voyage ****
Author: Timothy Findley

Wake Up, I'm Fat! ***
Author: Camryn Manheim

Wrestling with the Angel: A Life of Janet Frame ***
Author: Michael King

Raleigh's Lost Colony ****
Author: David N. Durant

An American Childhood *****
Author: Annie Dillard

Pleasure: new poems ****
Author: Gary Young

No Other Life ****
Author: Gary Young

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan *****
Author: Lisa See

Porter Gulch Review 2011 ****
Authors: Many


The Funniest Cop Stories Ever **
Authors:  Tom Philbin, & Scott Baker


Pompeii: City on Fire **
Author: T.L. Higley


Memoirs of a Snowflake *
Author: Joe Vasicek


The Big 5-OH! *
Author: Sandra D. Bricker

Coffin Humor: A Short Story *
Author: John Brinling

Hilda - Snow White Revisited *
Author: Paul Kater


Antiques Roadkill: A Trash 'n' Treasures Mystery **
Author: Barbara Allan


Fat, Forty, Fired **
Author: Nigel Marsh


The Apothecary's Daughter ***
Author: Julie Klassen


Boneshaker **
Author: Cherie Priest

Note:
I don't keep an ongoing list of my reading material. Perhaps I should in the future. I had to go through my list of purchases of hard copy books from Half.com and Amazon to jog my memory. After this, I perused my bookshelves and found a few more. Even though I have about 451 books in my Kindle. It was easy to compile.

It surprises me that I read all those. I have some others, too, which I started then set down somewhere forgetting about them. I didn't put them in the list.

I Miss You, Mom!

Rest In Peace

February 9, 1920 - December 14, 2006

Genevieve Evelyn Borden Deane, age 86, died at her daughter's home in Cedar Park, Texas on December 14, 2006, following a fruitful and fulfilling life.

She was born February 9, 1920, in Breeseport, NY
She was the Daughter of Myron Rockwell Borden and Orilla Brewer Davis

On May 16, 1937, She was united in marriage to James Deforest Deane in Port Allegany, PA.

Most of her adult life, Mrs. Deane resided in Niagara County NY where she and her husband operated their own business and later she worked for St. Mary's hospital in Lewiston NY. After retirement in 1980, the couple moved to Southern California and lived in Yucaipa, and Valencia, CA.

Mrs. Deane was a member of the Episcopal Church. And was a member of Gideon's International, Full Gospel Businessmen's Ladies Fellowship, and volunteered in the Ladies Auxiliary of Assembly of God San Bernardino California, helping to create quilts for the homeless.

Personally, her extended family included all the friends of her children who called her "Mom".

Among her interests, Genevieve was an avid seamstress sewing on her old Singer treadle machine, which later on was modified as an electric portable. She sewed by hand tiny stitches as her mother had taught her while quilting. But her favorite needlework was hand embroidery. Among pleasures in her life, she enjoyed gardening, antiquing, thrift shopping, yard sales, and swap meets, and collecting treasures such as sea shells and interesting rocks. She loved board games, cards, jigsaw puzzles and was an avid reader. In her early years, she wrote poetry which was recited on the WJJL radio station in Niagara Falls NY.

Genevieve attended Port Allegany High School in Port Allegany, PA and later graduated from Niagara Falls High School.

She is predeceased by her parents, Myron Rockwell Borden, and Orilla Davis Borden, her husband James Deforest Dean and sister, Carrie Borden Staples; brother, Alvin Borden, a son Lee Deforest Deane, and grandson, Raj Anil Megha.

Survivors include her four children, David, Lockport NY, Elizabeth Munroz, Watsonville, CA, Roger, Scottsdale, AZ, and Suzan Simpson of Cedar Park, TX. Her grandchildren include Christine Deane, Lockport NY, Laurie Blunk, Alta Loma, CA, Therese Burton, Chicago IL, Xavier Rodriguez, San Francisco, CA, Carl Deane, Niagara Falls, NY and Varsha Megha,  Austin TX. She is also survived by 17 great-grandchildren and 4 great-great-grandchildren who will surely miss her loving arms around them.

Great-Grandchildren include Moses, Brittany, Marquis, Andrew, Justin, Michael, Breanna, Chloe, Kezia, Moriah, Tiara, Kory, Storm, Jasmine, Sterling, Rain, Anjulique, Ashanti and Rajen

Great-Great Grandchildren are Daniel, Matthew, and Alexander


With special thanks and gratitude to my sister Suzan, who devoted herself to my mother that last year of her life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: new great-great-grandchildren, Rylee, India, and Raj have been born since 2006 with another one due any moment.

What Mother Wrote 1969

Lightening crackles across the sky and thunder's magnificent bass joins the foolish chirp of optimistic early birds as rain pelts off the eaves onto the once shiny, new green translucent plastic sheet now lying in the winter worn clay muck where I once thought roses would be blooming.

And that, in one overgrown sentence, that which became one grotesque paragraph, is the story of my life. Nothing more needs to be written. But since I long ago tried to prove myself poetic, I found I was only capable of writing terse verse, and am now much older and more foolish. I feel it might afford amusement to someone if I set down some of the bizarre consequences of this "Alice life". For it all seems to be a mad tea party. All the lovely dreams and the grand plans and hope are misshapen and run into  grotesque patterns as splashes of paint thrown carelessly at a canvas.

As a young and naive girl I used to fear that lightning would "strike me still in my tracks" somewhat like a pillar of salt. Oh how cruel, but now if it would be so kind. No. There's no chance of such a romantic fate for me and I now realize there never will be. I shall be as the green plastic and once shining and hopeful of giving grace and shady welcome from the hot summer sun or shelter from the beasts of snow and ice of winter but left discarded unused, to lie in the mud and be of no consequence. Just beaten down, marred and scratched, unbeautiful and useless. Never having been in the right place at the right time to add any beauty or serve a useful purpose. Scarred and muddy and discarded.

Written by my mother, Genevieve Borden Deane, April 10, 1969 at age 49

I recall the green plastic tarp she had placed over a too early planted rose bush, that had been trammeled by a rain storm and dashed her hopes for her garden to be.

I didn't know she wrote this piece. I just came across it yesterday while looking for some old family papers.

I recall it was a short time after I had gotten out of the hospital for surgery on my recurrent chondrosarcoma (bone cancer).

I suspect the stresses of that alone could have contributed to her despondent mood.

But, I'm sure there were other things going on in her life of which I am unaware.

I'm sure, by looking at the photos, you can see she was not always so morose.

Butterflies Over the Golden Mustard Fields

For ten years
we had a beautiful green garden.
For twenty years
the sun always shone on our thatched roofs.
My mother came out and called me home.
I came to the front yard
near the kitchen
to wash my feet
and warm my hands over the rosy hearth,
waiting for our evening meal
as the curtain of night
fell slowly on our village.

I will never grow up
no matter how long I live.
Just yesterday, I saw a band
of golden butterflies fluttering above our garden.
The mustard greens were bursting with bright yellow flowers.

Mother and sister, you are always with me.
The gentle afternoon breeze is your breathing.
I am not dreaming of some distant future.
I just touch the wind and hear your sweet song.
It seems like only yesterday that you told me,
"If one day, you find everything destroyed,
then look for me in the depths of your heart."

I am back. Someone is singing.
My hand touches the old gate,
and I ask, "What can I do to help?"
The wind replies,
"Smile. Life is a miracle.
Be a flower.
Happiness is not built of bricks and stones."

I understand. We don't want to cause each other pain.
I search for you day and night.
The trees grope for one another in the stormy night.
The lightning flash reassures them
they are close to one another.

My brother, be a flower standing along the wall.
Be a part of this wondrous being.
I am with you. Please stay.
Our homeland is always within us.
Just as when we were children,
we can still sing together.

This morning, I wake up and discover
that I've been using the sutras as my pillow.
I hear the excited buzzing of the diligent bees
preparing to rebuild the universe.
Dear ones, the work of rebuilding
may take thousands of lifetimes,
but it has also already been completed
just that long ago.
The wheel is turning,
carrying us along.
Hold my hand, brother, and you will see clearly
that we have been together
for thousands of lifetimes.

My mother's hair is fresh and long.
It touches her heels.
The dress my sister hangs out to dry
is still sailing in the wind
over our green yard.

It was an autumn morning
with a light breeze.
I am really standing in our backyard--
the guava trees, the fragrance of ripe mangoes,
the red maple leaves scurrying about
like little children at our feet.

A song drifts from across the river.
Bales of silky, golden hay
traverse the bamboo bridge.
Such fragrance!

As the moon rises above
the bamboo thicket,
we play together
near the front gate.
I am not dreaming.
This is a real day, a beautiful one.
Do we want to return to the past
and play hide-and-seek?
We are here today,
and we will be here tomorrow.
This is true.
Come, you are thirsty.
We can walk together
to the spring of fresh water.

Someone says that God has consented
for mankind to stand up and help Him.
We have walked hand in hand
since time immemorial.
If you have suffered, it is only
because you have forgotten
you are a leaf, a flower.

The chrysanthemum is smiling at you.
Don't dip your hands into cement and sand.
The stars never build prisons for themselves.

Let us sing with the flower and the morning birds.
Let us be fully present.
I know you are here because I can look into your eyes.
Your hands are as beautiful as chrysanthemums.
Do not let them be transformed
into gears, hooks, and ropes.

Why speak of the need to love one another?
Just be yourself.
You don't need to become anything else.

Let me add one testimony of my own.
Please listen as if I were
a bubbling spring.

And bring mother. I want to see her.
I shall sing for you, my dear sister,
and your hair will grow as long as mother's.

By Thich Nhat Hanh

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
First photo taken by my sister, Suzan Deane-Simpson
Second photo taken my myself, Elizabeth Munroz

Happy Birthday, Mona!

Swimming in the Air

When fishes swim 


in waters green


behind the cube of glass,


and wake me 


in the middle of dreams


with bubbles, 


speaking gibberish,


I lie there, staring


at tail fins 


sweeping my ceiling 


free of stardust cobwebs.


Then close my eyes 


to puckered up Kissing Fish


cleaning my eyelids of algae.


I worry when my babies 


swim in the air.


Won’t they drown?




~~~~~~~~


Elizabeth Munroz 1974

Garden Memories – Lilies

Looking back upon the past summer and the incredible heat of October, it seemed to me that Autumn would never truly arrive even though my Chrysanthemums insisted on their season. Finally, we verged upon November and I welcomed the colder weather so that I could get serious about my gardening. Like a greenhouse flower, I wilt in extreme temperatures. All the things I had left undone begged me to step outside and tackle them.

For me this was a time for general cleaning up and implementing my springtime plans. I had many ideas for enhancing my garden, and as I worked, I found that new schemes jumped into my mind altering everything. I have to admit that I am a spontaneous and haphazard gardener. While raking leaves in the area that I had intended to place some Jade plant, I suddenly daydreamed of it being planted with distinctive white Calla Lilies. I had recently excavated some out of a crowded corner of my yard just a short time before. Family members requested that I share my surplus. I had put them in containers in order to keep my promises to give them my lilies, just not so abundantly. I easily changed my "well thought out" plans and enthusiastically tackled my new Lily Patch when a parcel arrived.

I had forgotten my other previous autumn planting concept to create a bed of Stargazer Lilies, and here they were on my doorstep. I was so excited, it was like Christmas! Memory lapse made the surprise shipment even more pleasant. My mind overflowed with visions of pink splendor.

I recall my first introduction to Stargazers just seven years ago. Can you believe I had never seen any before then? Upon entering the home of a friend, I was assaulted by the most intensely breathtaking fragrance that literally commanded my attention. Instead of greeting my friend when she welcomed me in, I blurted out, "What is that incredible smell?" Then I saw the flustered look on her face. Some people think that the word, smell is not pleasant. My nose is in love with gardening as much as my hands, so smells of all sorts have very special appeal for me. I realized the error of my word usage, and quickly covered with scent. “I mean, that enticing scent!”

Smiling, she replied "Stargazer Lilies!" and led me to the exquisite bouquet sitting on the table in another room. I was astounded at their loveliness and have appreciated them ever since. Even though the fragrance can be profoundly concentrated (just one flower in the house can fill your home) I enjoy them. Last summer a catalog came in the mail with Stargazers on the front cover, and I made my very first mail order for plants of any kind. After receiving the package,  I quickly got them into the ground. I can hardly wait for spring’s warmth to bring forth my garden fantasies.

Garden Memories – Lilies
October 24, 2003
By Elizabeth Munroz

Originally published in
Gardening on the Edge: Journal of Monterey Bay Master Gardeners

Halloween Horror Story

.

Life, like Halloween, is full of tricks and treats. When we carry that bag around from door to door asking for tricks or treats, we take what is given with a thank you. Then, we walk home with that bag, hoping that everything in there is our favorite. When we get home, we have to go through that treat bag and decide what to do with what's inside. It's all treats! Right? It's whether or not we can appreciate each for it's own merit.

Light from Darkness

When the sky is infused

with deep heaviness

it is like my life

when struggling

with despondency.



It's hard to see

the beauty in it

until that one

sliver of light

peeps through.

'Tis what my mother called

the "silver lining".



A full sunshine day

would not lift me

as much as noticing

that one little

ray of joy

in the midst

of my darkness.

Cross My Heart and Hope to Die

She watched the hummingbird
through the slice of light in the curtains
wishing someone would come
and open them onto the world.

Just the branch showed the little gem
feeding on the red flower
like the blood ruby
on her hand
crossed over her heart
symbolizing their love.
Life was fleeting
and memories her last comfort.

Her loneliness taunted her
as she twisted in her bed
reaching for the light
with hope for freedom,

until the great grandchildren
came to visit,
and hope lay in the future
of new memories to be born.

In memory of Genevieve Borden Deane 

February 9, 1920 - December 12, 2006

Poem and Photos by Elizabeth Munroz

Obituary of a Long Lost Super Star

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:

     - Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
     - Why the early bird gets the worm;
     - Life isn't always fair;
     - and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place.

Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became
businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust, by his wife, Discretion, by his daughter, Responsibility, and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers;
     I Know My Rights
     I Want It Now
     Someone Else Is To Blame
     I'm A Victim

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author unknown

What an 80 year old woman can do

Liz Valencia
Ballet Folklorico Dancer

I had agreed to go to Costco with my new friend, a retired nun, teacher and seamstress. She's a very talented woman. She had a stroke last year so she tires out easily. That makes us compatible shopping partners!

It wasn't too long that we were in Costco when I began to run out of energy. I find that happens more when I have increased pain. I didn't have too much pain before we started, but things got so much worse. That's been happening more this last year or so! I was so glad she understood that I couldn't continue shopping.

I don't have a membership with Costco. It would really save money. I was so happy with what I found and the money I saved.

On the way home we saw a yard sale and stopped. The woman had an Osterizer.  I had been wanting one. I'd like to get a juicer some day too. But, for right now, I can make smoothies in this one. I got it for $8.

We were only gone four hours, but I was exhausted when we got back. So I went to lie down in bed for a while. It's more restful and refreshing than the couch.

Then I remembered the neighbor across the street, Her name is Liz. She is 80 years old and had her hip replaced in January. She danced Ballet Folklorico, a style of Mexican dancing up until then. Very ambitious and active woman.

Yesterday, I had promised Liz to go walking with her, but at the time I was too exhausted from having my osteoporosis IV injection then, so I didn't go.

Since I had my second wind, I just had to keep my promise today. It was cold out. I asked Liz to turn around and go back when I began to feel more pain and loss of energy. She went back home with me, then went off on her own to finish her lengthy walk. Then, I absolutely had to lay down and have been resting for hours since then. I wish I had her health and energy. Plus, her positive attitude. It's so incredible to think this woman is 80 years old!

Note from the future, 2016:  It was just a few months after this that I was diagnosed with Leukemia. No wonder I had so much pain and was so exhausted.

From Personal Journal

I'm overwhelmed today. I woke up feeling sad. Didn't even have the sleep gone from my eyes and all I wanted to do was cry. Well, crying is not my thing. It's too hard on me due to my asthma. It just stirs it up and makes things worse. So, a long time ago I learned to suppress crying. Or should I say? Sobbing.

When my kitty died two and a half years ago I awoke every day with this same kind of feeling. Just before falling asleep the sadness arose every night, too. My grief was over the top. Eventually, after adopting four kitties, they have kept me so busy that morning/evening sadness left me.

So, here it is, again. Same feelings. Different reason.

Obviously it is finally hitting me. I've been too busy and stressed out, going through all the tests and doctor's appointments. Today I'll be by myself. Nothing to do. No appointments. No having to drive anywhere. No relating to other people. Just me and my cats. Naturally my body knows this and has triggered letting these suppressed feelings out.

So perhaps today I will wallow a little bit.

Shaky Mother Earth

Two more big earthquakes today in Japan, the same area as the one in March. I am so grateful that Katsumi lives here and not back home in Japan! I'm sad, though, about his family and friends. It's not easy to know that those you love have gone through such awful circumstances.

This is the one last place in the Pacific Garden Mall in Santa Cruz, California that suffered damage from the Loma Prieta quake and still needs to be rebuilt. 

I've been very fortunate that the earthquakes I've lived through here in California have not been too bad. 

When the Loma Prieta quake occurred I was not living here at the time. I was very concerned about my friends who lived here. I'd had surgery and had just been returned to my hospital room. The room mate was watching TV. Then announcements were made interrupting the program. I was so intent on watching that when the surgeon walked into the room with his entourage, I totally ignored him, wasn't aware of him. When he began speaking to ask how I was doing, or tell me about the surgery (or something like that), I told him to shut up and go away. After he left, the room mate told me what I'd done. I felt no remorse. I was more concerned with what had happened in Santa Cruz. Of course, later I apologized for my rudeness and explained that I'd left my heart in California. Thank heavens the doctor was a nice guy. He totally understood.

The Loma Prieta epicenter is just a few miles from where I right now. 

Mother Earth is very settled here these days 

NO IMPACT MAN

Watching this documentary brings up a lot of mixed emotions.

On the one hand Colin Beaven ( No Impact Man) appears to go to extremes, trying to eliminate ALL .... from his life. It was painful to watch his wife "going along" with the program when obviously it was difficult for her. Or, maybe I was reading her body language incorrectly. I can understand giving up things, but coffee or tea just because it doesn't come from a 250 mile radius. Olive oil? Diapers for the baby?

I have lived in a time when cloth diapers and rubber pants were all that was available for babies. Not only is it difficult to get diapers sanitarily cleaned without HOT water and bleach, (or direct sunlight), the effect on the baby can be medically disastrous. A baby with raw sores on it's bottom suffers. A baby with a fungal infection is heartbreaking! And if one is trying to live a no impact life, what does one do to treat those conditions?

I cringed as I watched No Impact Man washing clothes in the bathtub by stomping on them like they were grapes in cold water. I guess he hasn't heard of a scrub board. My grandmother boiled her wash water over an open fire. She hung her clothes on a rope in mid air summer and winter. Obviously No Impact Man couldn't do that. How clean could those cloth baby diapers become?

They never did mention what they did to substitute for toilet paper.

Doing without A/C or heating in New York city seems extreme. They still used electricity for cooking and telephone in the first few months. Then lived in the dark with candles. How safe is that with a toddler in the house? There were exceptions to the rules, but who decided it? No Impact Man. He got to keep his computer running by using a small solar panel, which I thought was maybe a bit hypocritical. (I wont go into the carbon footprint of creating a solar panel.)Though in this day and age, why do without one's computer, even if there is paper and pen available? Okay. I will give him the computer. After all, he was writing a blog and a book about all this at the same time he was being filmed.

I do not mean to make this a criticism of the intent of No Impact Man. I think it's admirable when anyone makes a clear and conscious change in their lives to reduce their carbon footprint whatever their methods. But, I still would like to know why, what and how.

Some things I liked in particular, probably because I can see the feasibility for the average person.

1. No water in plastic bottles. This I already do by keeping water in bottles from previous beverage purchases of Tejava. I've done this for a couple years.

2. Using old clothes for cleaning rags instead of paper, etc. Some old clothes in good condition, I advertise on my local Freecycle, ( see: freecycle.com ) or donate to local charities.

3. Make do with what you already have. I always ask myself if I need this item I'm thinking of buying or if I just want it. Can I do without it? Can I substitute something else.

4. Don't buy new products, just used. I can go part way with this idea. Buying from thrift shops is not a problem for me. Though, I would rather not buy used underpants! Thank you!

5. Don't use electricity and gas. I like the idea, but find I am not committed enough to do without them entirely. I have made concessions though. I have permanently turned off the pilot in my gas-lit wall furnace. It's a big waste of energy, a very inefficient way of heating the house. In the wintertime, I am able to wear warm clothes in the house just like I did as a kid when I lived in New York. I have noticed, though, when it gets below 55 degrees inside the house I then feel chilled, and my bones get creaky. I think arthritis should be respected, especially when it is my own. I remedy this in one of two ways by using the electric space heater in whatever room I am in, or by using an electric blanket when sleeping. It is not necessary to run a space heater all night when sleeping! I am not being a No Impact Woman, but I am using considerably less energy than I would be if running the furnace throughout cold weather. I've been doing this for about two years.

6. Don't waste water. That's a big one for some people. I see it all the time as I drive down the street. Sprinklers are watering the grass, the sidewalk and into the gutters down the street. I don't have grass. My whole yard has been turned into a garden. I don't water the plants. I have chosen plants that grow in my area without watering. When I first made the decision to get rid of grass and have the whole yard be a garden (with pathways), I decided that the plants that wouldn't make it without watering would just have to go their own way. For the most part they have adjusted.

When I compare my water bills from a few years back to today. I have lowered my average water usage from 900 units down to 200 units. I think that's pretty good. I know I could lower it more, but not ready to give up bathing.

I like eating seasonally. That is how I was raised. It doesn't seem to be a sacrifice to me. Peaches in January shipped in from Where? Peru? Australia? Who knows where? Though I must admit I live in a part of the country where strawberries and salad makings grow almost year round. I would miss them if living in snow country. I didn't miss them as a child. We ate what was available. Root crops and what ever fruits that had been canned the previous summer.

One thing in particular stood out for me in watching this film is when I heard, "Why do I need to wait for congress or big business to change things? What can I do myself?"

Note:

The first picture is of my house when it had a lawn that needed mowing and watering.

The second picture is after the lawn was turned into sustainable garden which needs no watering.

The third picture shows how the trees grew up enough to provide shade for the house and eliminated the need for air conditioning!


To see a short and fascinating movie trailer on No Impact Man