We want things, and we want them now. We want our rewards now, our accolades. We want intimacy, and we don't want to wait or commit or be uncomfortable at all for it. We want homes, cars, couches, vacations.

Now.

Not tomorrow, not a year from today.


So the credit companies, the mortgage brokers, the ad agencies... they cater to us. They have built an empire of wealth on our fickle needs and whims. You need that red leather pair of pants? Now? Here's some money for it, we trust you to pay it back. With interest. For the next five years.

Need a house? Who doesn't? There's a company out there for you, eager to throw a hundred thousand or more at a house, in exchange for the title deed to that house and three hundred thousand dollars over the course of the next thirty years.

Gotta have that fling? That hot girl or guy at the night club, the beach, or the bar. They'll satisfy your need, right now. It may cost you a lifetime of herpes, child support, or emotional pain, but who cares? You got your fix when you wanted it.

I want a house. I'm thirty years old and I've never owned a home. Nearly everyone I know owns a home. I try not to let it bother me, but some days it really does. I look at my rental- knowing that I can never knock that wall out between the laundry room and the yard, put in a door, thus facilitating a laundry line and easier access to the grill. It would be prefect. But I don't own this house, so I can't do things like that to it.

Today, on a pure whim, we stopped by a lot that is liquidating their modular homes. I've had my eye on one there for several months now. The front is perfectly symmetrical, with a fenced porch and lovely windows. Inside, it was beyond perfect: a fireplace, a kitchen to die for, perfect master suite, high ceilings, crown molding, and even a laundry room. With windows...

I want that home.
I want it badly.
I want it now. Today. I want to hang my curtains up and put my pots on the stove and just exist in that simple little home.
I want it on an acre or two of land, with a little garden out back. I don't care if it's a modular- it still has drywall and wood and porcelain like a real house. And it would be so easy- all ready to move into. Now.

But I probably will not get that house. I don't know when I will get a house of my own, mostly because my husband and I gave into the 'now' epidemic when we didn't really have a secure financial footing. We bought a car when jobs and life were good, but jobs and life did not stay good and we lost that car. We moved a lot, sometimes leaving our bills behind with the old address. But those bills find you, with those little yellow forwarding address stickers that I have come to despise.

We were foolish, but we're smarter now. Now. We pay our bills now, and are slowly making good on the old ones. But our credit is badly damaged for the next few years, so a house is probably not on our horizon. But one never knows, not really...


I wrote a book, and I wanted to see it in print. Now. I read about agents, publishing, editing, copyrights... I lost hope. Its too hard, I cried, too hard! I'll just self-publish, on LuLu, and get around to the agent thing one day. Not now, but eventually. And then two whole years went by, just like that. Getting around to it never seems to come. I needed to write this annoying thing called a synopsis. Have you ever written a synopsis? How about one of your own full-length novel? Its not easy!

But I did it.
I did it today.
I opened my fortune cookie at work yesterday, and it said: 'You'll accomplish more if you start now.'
Well, duh. Of course I will.
But that silly little slip of paper stopped me in my tracks. I taped it inside my laptop, and this morning, when I normally would have opened up Civilization III to play, my wrist brushed against that little slip of paper and my soul screamed out for that book to be realized for what it is. I sat down and I wrote that synopsis. It was difficult, condensing 100,000 words into two pages of sensible plot outline. I had to trim and trim and trim my words. And then I wrote a query letter. Those two things were almost more challenging than writing the book itself! But I did it, and now I'm ready to send that synopsis and query letter out to one hundred agents. If not one of those agents accepts my work, I'll put that book aside and submit my science fiction novel once its done. And if that doesn't fly, then I can say that I've tried, and I will put my writing aside.

That's the kind of now I'm going for today. Not the 'I-need-it-now', but rather the 'I-need-to-do-it-now'. There's fiction inside of me, just crying to get out and onto that bookshelf. There's art inside of me, beyond my jewelry, beyond my writing- art that I've given up for the worries of life and having a manageable household. There's a child inside of me that doesn't play often with my own children, because that child was injured once too often ever so many years ago, and that child retreated behind a very thick stone wall, never to be injured again. But my children do not even know that child inside of their mother, and they deserve to have come out to play. So I'm going to do it, I'm going to come out from my wall and play. And I'm going to do it- not someday, because someday will come when they're too old- I'm going to do it NOW.

Labels: credit, home, house, impatience, money, mortgage, now, present, publishing, writing

Ahhhh.... it's Farmer's Market season here again. Michigan has a shorter growing season, so our Market doesn't open until late June, but we try to take full advantage of it!

Here are ten reasons that your local Farmer's Market is the best food option anytime:

1) Meet The Source.

Instead of the pimple-faced kid randomly dropping your tomatoes on the floor before they get wedged into the stand, at the FM you usually buy your nightshade fruit from the guy who grew it. Grocery stores: who knows where that thing was grown, in what soil conditions, picked green, gassed to get some color, and shipped hundreds, if not thousands, of miles before it reaches you.

2) Get Your Hands Dirty.

Food prep, cooking, eating... all of this is a very tactile experience. I love bringing home gritty lettuce and squash, knowing that it was picked fresh from my native Northern Michigan soil within a few hours of me actually eating it! Washing dirt off the veggies, sand off the strawberries is a soothing and almost grounding (get it!?!) experience for me, and I feel like I know the texture and weight of the food better as I go to prep it. Naturally occurring dirt is also much better than...

3) No Stupid Stickers!

Don't you just love this: you're shredding an apple for your favorite oatmeal cookie recipe. The shredder balks and shudders, breaking your rhythm, and you discover tiny bits of shredded PLU sticker in your cookie batter. Awesome. No cash registers means no PLUs- means no irritating little oval stickers to peel off your food!

4) Support Your Local Economy.

This one is obvious. Who benefits more from the $30 you're spending on berries and stew ingredients: Wal-Mart, or the Amish guy in the neighboring community? Wal-Mart will just gouge another employee on their health insurance, while the farmer can buy more seed, feed his own family, or just exist another day.

5) It's Healthier.

Even if the farmers don't grow organic, your food is more ripe, more natural, less travelled, and more fresh than anything you could get at a grocery store. Honey will have local pollen which is (allegedly) better for any allergies you may have. Naturally sun-ripened fruits & vegetables have a higher vitamin count and nutritional benefit.

6) Lessen Your Carbon Footprint.

From Mexico to Indiana, or Indiana to Indiana? Again, this one's obvious. Also, most rural farmland has been around for years, rather than being a result of massive slash-and-burn desecration.

Another point is that many local farmers use Mason jars, paper bags, wooden bushels, etc. Re-used and reusable storage. No fancy packaging to pay extra for, them throw away. My local produce market has a $2 deposit on strawberry flats, and they wash and re-use the little wood slat quart boxes!

7) Alternative Economy Possibilities.

We haven't tried this one much yet, but have spoken to people who have: barter, trade, bulk discounts, etc. You're not dealing with a huge faceless corporation here, but one or two live people with needs and reasoning skills. Do you have a service or product to provide? I need to start tempting the honey lady with my jewelry designs...

8) People.

Tuesday, Mike and I bought a raw milk share (finally!). This morning, Mike went to pick up our first gallon and a half of rich ivory dairy- with cream all ready to skim off the top for butter! When he got to the farm, he got to meet 'our' cow and its calf, as well as some happy children who live on the farm. Kid #3 went with him and got to see piggies, cows, horses & chickens. She fed the calf, got manure on her sandals, and generally had a blast. How much better is this kind of life than the sterile, cloistered environments most Americans are used to obtaining their food in?

One day last year a young man occupied an empty market stall. Dressed in 1940s era clothing- white shirt, suspenders, & high-waisted trousers- he played ragtime on his guitar and sang lovely songs, old and new. We bought his CD and threw some money in his hat. Turns out he's an old friend of my brother-in-law, breaking into the major music markets. I went home with salad, fresh flowers, and a lift in my step from the great music. Isn't that better than the same Elton John song over and over on the Meijer radio system? I think so.

Every time we go to the Farmer's Market we form another little relationship. Some of the people there are work-hardened, weather-beaten folks with little of a friendly exterior. But others are just the salt of the earth- with canning advice, stories, and a bit of banter for everyone they meet.

9) Happy Animals.

All of the farmers that I've seen in my area are humane folk. Their chickens are free-range, their cattle eat lovely green grass, and their creatures run free instead of being penned in a miserable dark stall for most of their lives. I know many of you out there do not eat meat or dairy because of inhumane animal practices, but I believe that an animal treated better in its life will just be a better meal.

10) Eat the Seasons.
Strawberries and asparagus grace our markets right now. In a few weeks we'll have blueberries and patty pan squash. Not only are menus easier to plan (for me, at least) when you know what's ready to cook, but I've been hearing a lot of great things about the health benefits of eating seasonal fresh veggies and fruits.

Eating what the Earth produces- when it produces- is ecologically sound, financially beneficial, and tasty. I could not bear one more plastic clamshell container of strawberries last month! Now, for just a short and lovely season, I have ripe strawberries that are actually sweet, have juice in them, and were allowed to ripen in the sunshine!

I can't think of anything more beautiful, more natural, or more perfect than the bounty that the Farmer's Market offers. From maple syrup to hot peppers, you'll find me there sniffing and shopping and eating and living. I hope to see you there, too!

Labels: carbon footprint, cooking, eating, ecology, economy, farm, farmers market, food, fruit, gas, honey, money, natural, produce, vegetables

A friend sent this our way today, and we found it amusing, if a little too close to home.

Labels: big oil, economy, funny, gas, gas prices, money, oil