Travel
What You Bring Home

For most people the point of travel is to explore and find out what else is out there in the world. You see new things, you learn about other people, you try new foods, and explore new textures. Travel is a way we can understand more about the world than what is right outside our front door. Yet I believe that for many people travel is equally important for what you bring back with you. If you travel and return home with exactly the same perspective, ideas, and knowledge as when you left then it seems, (to me), that you have gone nowhere.

If this trip has taught me anything it's that my family and I don't actually really know each other that well. Which is a surprise to me because I believe we know each other better than most families do. It is clear that my family (yes, ALL of them) know me well enough to know that I'm a very specific person, that I'm a vegetarian, that I am stubborn...but they don't know much about what I've done and seen in the world and how it's shaped me. Equally true is that I have my own blind spots for all of them and what I've learned is that I must open my ears fresh to their stories and their viewpoint but without the kind of usual questioning I use on everyone that has a tendency to shut my family's communication down.

We are a prickly bunch and we seem to agree on the basics readily but lose each other endlessly in the details. I have discovered that I need to let my parents, my brother, and my sister tell me their experiences without letting my preconceived notions about who they are crust up my hearing. My preconceived ideas were formed years ago and so were theirs. I feel that this trip has given us a chance to review each other. To start a new chapter in our relationships with each other. Who else brought that home with them is yet to be seen.

I have spent a great many years feeling unseen by my family and I wonder if they have now seen something new in me.

Whenever I travel I always bring home with me new ideas for living. I can't help it. Even in a land where most of the food makes me burp endlessly and where I would sometimes prefer to get all my nutrition from Guinness than from more chips and sweet peppers there is always some new food inspiration I carry in my taste-buds. The wedding food was not particularly wonderful for me but there was one dish that, but for the fact that the cheese was very goaty, is haunting me and will continue to linger in my mouth memory until I try my own version of it.

It was a portabello mushroom thing. I don't even know what to call it. The base was a tender portabello mushroom (and how did they achieve the tenderness? I often know portabellos to be meatier and firmer than I find pleasing) that was baked with soft goat cheese on the top. Ring molds were used for keeping the cheese in place so I am tempted to call it a tartlet. The cheese was pleasingly creamy and if it weren't for the goat-hide flavor finish- it would have been sublime.

And yes, for the record, I did burp up goat-hide flavor along with the bell pepper flavor...ALL NIGHT LONG. I think it's a testament to my love for my dad and his new wife that I actually ate the whole dinner without complaint knowing I would pay for it for hours.

I also brought home with me a heightened sense of what I want my own home to feel like. It should feel like all the aspects of the best bed and breakfasts, but a little less tidy because the reality is that I'm not tidy. That doesn't mean I shouldn't try to arrange my house for comfort. The idea of a bed and breakfast is that it's homey but better than home. You always find nice baskets in the bathroom with little soaps and shampoos. Things are arranged in the most convenient way possible and there is luxury in the details even if the effect is simply to make you feel effortlessly comfortable.

It isn't about being perfect. It's about the little touches. Something I did in our last house that I haven't figured out how to do here (because of counter space issues) is to arrange my bath salts and bombs attractively on the counter in pretty containers so that you always feel invited to run a bath. It made going into the main bathroom feel more like a pleasant surprise. Plus, it smelled super good with the bombs out.

I would like the entrance to my house to feel like coming back to a favorite bed and breakfast ...every single time I come home. Look at the simple entrance to this tiny cottage. The tiny topiaries are so welcoming. I feel like this kind of detail is something I forget about. I achieved this feeling in my house on Beaver Street. My front yard was quite often a mess but the box hedges looked so nice and formal, even when they got a little hairy, and there was always something pretty blooming in the planted half barrels on the porch.

In Glasgow there is a lot of tearing down going on and I was enchanted with the exposed innards of other people's homes. Can you see the thick layers of paint that have gone on these walls for the last couple hundred years? Those were rooms that people lived in and they painted them to please themselves.

People in cities don't have a luxury of space unless they are very rich. Most people don't have a lot of space even if they live in towns. Many many people live in apartments. Or small homes. Or have decent sized homes with postage stamp yards.

I had the luxury of both a largish house and a very large yard and I moved to an equal sized house with a smaller yard. Being in Scotland reminded me of how much space I have in my house and even with a smaller yard it is still almost four times the average sized yard in Ayr. I spied glimpses into people's walled gardens and was amazed at what they've done with so little space to create a sense of miniature paradise. I now feel like I have so much and my previous obsession with having "property" feels greedy and silly. I'm not saying it's wrong to want or to have lots of space...just that I never really maximized the space I had so why was I so desperate to have more?

My plan is to maximize what I have. I have a lot.

I went to the nursery yesterday to see about getting another Elephant Heart plum tree because I waited too long to plant my other one and it died. While I was there I realized that I already had a Green Gage plum in a bag that still had leaves on it that desperately needed to get into the ground. I bought a couple of terra cotta pots that were expensive...when did terra cotta get so costly?! After I bought them I thought about all the containers I have at home that could be drilled with holes and used for planting the plants I need to repot.

Learning to assess what you really have and what you can do with it; learning to maximize the space you already have; learning to stop and think about what you're about to buy before doing it takes practice and time. I don't consider myself particularly materialistic or much of an obsessed shopper*, yet I realized that I had a ton of plants waiting to get in the ground at home and there I was ready to buy more.

I came home yesterday, yanked out my poor dead Elephant Heart plum tree, and planted the Green Gage. I potted up all of the pots I already have with flowers waiting for repotting. Today I will look around for more pots. I have some ideas and when I figure it all out, I will share it with you.

I always bring a lot home with me from trips but most of what I bring home is weightless and stays with me long after the trip has finally been paid for.

As much as I love traveling, I love being home much much more.

*I didn't do much shopping in Scotland. The one purchase I made for myself that I was totally excited about were two packets of seeds which the customs officer stole from me because seeds now require some special stamp on them to be in the country. I'd very much like to know what they are going to do with my seeds? Toss them in an incinerator? Throw them on a trash barge?

The Feet Next Door

I would be a shoe whore if it weren't for one small problem that has nothing to do with money: my feet defy my every shoe wish and dream. They look normal enough. If you asked my neighbors what they thought about my feet they would probably say things like "They were really unobtrusive, you know, you would never have guessed about them the way they just kept to themselves." or "They always seemed normal. Not weird at all."

Or if you were to ask my friends and family they might say things like "Well, we knew they weren't size 5's, but we had no idea that feet could be so secretly WIDE." or "I was never more flabbergasted than when I found out what difficult big shits they were to Angelina. Seriously, I wouldn't put up with that kind of crap from feet."

This is the way people always talk about serial killers after they've been caught.

I have shoe lust. If I had unlimited funds I would never have ugly shoes. At least, that's what I tell myself when I really need to believe in God or some other holy intervention. Then I remember that whatever powers that be gave me these damn feet in the first place for which I'm not thanking anyone.

I have major shoe problems. I think that my foot and shoe problems give me some old lady cred that I intend to stretch as far as I can. When you don't buy the foot troubles I'll break out my broken hip card.

• First of all, my feet are only size 9. Or at least they would be if any size 9 shoe came in the custom width ESFW (Extra-Stupid-Fucking-Wide). I have had men's boots custom made for me in double D's that I managed to blow out* within a year. Since most shoes, even shoes labeled "wide", aren't remotely wide enough for my feet, I usually wear a size 9.5 or 10.

• The fact that I have, for most of my life, had to wear shoes a size too long for me my shoes develop interesting creases at the toe. Like clown shoes. I've been known to trip over my own damn shoes.

• It's not enough that I have ESFW feet, but my arches are insanely high. Most shoes are made for people with relatively flat feet. Because of this I experience a lot of foot fatigue. And pain.

• But that's not all...no, that's not all. In addition to all this fun I seem to have developed calcium deposits on the joints of my big toes which when wearing any shoes not in complete compliance with my orthopedic needs will cause almost unbearable pains to shoot up my feet for hours. Pains that are so sharp and long they sometimes reach my arms and slap me in the face.

• But the frosting on my foot-cake is that my feet are prone to fungal infections. FUNGUS PRONE.

So when I sit next to friends with dainty feet shod in gorgeous shoes I find it very difficult to keep my equilibrium. In fact, I once broke up with a boyfriend mostly because he made too many comments about my business partner's very small exquisite feet which I secretly wished would shrivel up and fall off her legs. She also had high arched brows and no brain farts which helped with her overall allure.

Is it any surprise I have trouble finding shoes that fit? That's not the only problem though. You thought that was it, because that's certainly enough. The other thing is I have a great number of opinions on shoe fashion. Here is a sampling:

• I hate toe "cleavage". I think it's crass and make shoes look like they don't fit properly. I hate the expression "toe cleavage" almost as much as I hate the expression "camel-toe" with regards to pants.

• I hate strappy spiked shoes which means I hate most shoes on the market today. I think they make women's feet look awful. Yes I do. I realize that I am going against an almost universal style obsession and I don't care.

• I love boots. Work boots, mostly. Sometimes I get romanced by the look of riding boots.

• I don't like experimental heel shapes. Basically if the heel looks like it was designed before the sixties there's a good chance I will like it. After that? Pfffffft! No way.

• I love Ghillie brogues. The lace up kind. I'm on my second pair. The first pair lasted me five years** (I had them resoled at least twice) and I love them. Men's shoes, when they're not repulsive, tend to fit me well. I've owned many. I've had my recent pair for five years as well. I was actually thinking of wearing them for the wedding.

A few years ago I found this pair of Chinese Laundry shoes on sale at Macy's. It is my dream pair of shoes. Except that I almost never wear such a tall heel.*** Gorgeous, red, with lovely details, a 1940's kind of vibe to it, and they were about 70% off...

IN MY SIZE!!

I didn't have anywhere to wear them but I bought them. I've opened the box many times over the years and just admired their shiny goodness saying to myself "some day I'm going to wear these and look smashing!" never realizing that my freak feet would defy me in the end. I planned on wearing them with my wedding ensemble. Finally the perfect occasion to humiliate myself in tall heels but look fabulous while crashing to the ground in an Olympic trip and twist maneuver. I pulled them out of their box. Still brand new. Never worn.

I pushed my toes in to try them on again after all these years and then, when the rest of my feet wouldn't follow, I experienced the full weight of my shoe misfortune. I will never wear these gorgeous heels. Either my feet have continued to get wider over the years or the fat has finally reached my feet. Either way- my Imelda dreams are crushed.

I have visited every shoe shop between here and Portland and found nothing to go with my proposed outfit. How can this country be so devoid of shoes for me? I have the world's most normal looking freak-feet.

Next I will show you what they did to me at the MAC cosmetic store- they definitely achieved a bit of the fat cross-dressing prostitute type of look especially loved by the John Waters crowd. My family is going to absolutely LOVE IT!






*Not the same as a hair "blow-out". Blowing out the sides of your shoes means your shoes aren't wide enough for you and your feet are cracking the leather open. Manly, huh?

**A phenomenally long time for a person who usually destroys shoes between two months and a year.

***Because I can't walk elegantly in them.

In The Fitting Room

It's a little uncanny how much I look like my Grandfather in this picture. I have got identical jowls to his! I'm impressed that I have been able to cultivate them by the age of 38, it took him at least 60 years to get his going in full swing. Glorious! This picture is for Emma from the blog "My Three Loves" who knitted and felted this most amazing scooter scarf for me. It's super long so I can wrap it around many times and has bobbles on it. She knitted it for me in exchange for a jar of my vanilla pears.

Yes, the pears are THAT good.

But, for the record, I paid for the yarn. It was labor for labor. This scarf is now my security scarf. I own two extraordinary knitted/felted items now, both made by friends: my felted purse with the green glitter handles that Lisa E. made for me, and this scarf. I will have to photograph both for you more attractively, but not today. Too much to do.

This week has been about shopping for clothes. It's something I loath doing. I would have preferred to make clothes but I honestly don't have time for it and I finally realized it a couple of days ago. I always wait until it gets really dire. I was down to three pairs of pants (though only two of them were truly comfortable) and no unholy socks (Most of my socks are four or five years old) and three or four shirts that fit. Which means I do a lot of laundry to keep in clothes.

Yesterday Philip dropped me off at Macy's to shop. I've already scoured my local second hand shop, Ross, and our local fat lady clothes shop with the stupid name "The Fashion Bug". I failed to find a fancy shirt to wear to my Dad's wedding. It's black tie. I tried on some dresses and couldn't possibly have looked more dismally like Divine...what's depressing is that I actually looked WORSE than Divine...I really could have used some over the top make up. Dresses and skirts are OUT for me. I found a nice pair of pin-striped, cuffed, knee length pants that could be dressed up for a wedding. Clearly I'm not going to pull off a real black tie ensemble but one of my few true talents is dressing up casual clothes to look fancy enough to meet a queen in.

So all I needed was to find a fancy top to go with it. Something really dressy. Or else a tux style top. I found some white cotton tuxedo style tops but they made me look like a super-frump. After a mere two hours of trying on all kinds of tops meant to make large ladies look like stuffed deli meat, I finally found a lovely teal colored semi-fitted lacy top. I knew it was going to work when I didn't want to smash the mirror in the dressing room.

Of course it wasn't on sale.

What is it with all the giant fake jewels they put on clothes for plus size people? It insults me that designers assume that all large ladies are tacky. Most of them are also covered in crazy-bright patterns, real Pucci-esque numbers in bubblegum pink, apple green, bright yellow, and royal blue. I would never have dressed in such bejeweled patterns when I was a regular sized person, why would increasing my body mass make me more likely to adorn myself in such hideosity?

There's probably a psychology there but I don't feel like working that angle.

So what I need now is the perfect red lipstick, some really sparkly chandelier earrings and I need to transform a couple of red velvet millinery roses into hair ornaments. I plan to wear red forties-style platform sandals and paint my toenails red too. I'll look so fancy all the people in long gowns will wonder how it is they ended up looking so casual. Of course, they'll also think I'm a fat freak, but that won't matter.

Macy's always pulls through for me. I love Macy's. The one I went to in Portland doesn't have a MAC counter though and I found that quite distressing.

This is a nine day trip.

I haven't been out of the country since January of 2000. I have my passport, but what else do I need? Plug converters for the camera battery chargers and the laptop (Philip says we have one already and he saw it recently), my portable CD player with MP3's that Philip is making for me, notebooks, cameras, a book (I'll have to get one), but what else? Help me make my list! I'm usually quite a good packer. I rarely over pack. I'll bring two pairs of shoes, one for every day use and the fancy pair for the wedding. I always bring enough underwear to get me through the trip and socks too. But I'll only bring two or three pairs of pants, plus three or four tops (not including the wedding outfit). I'll do one load of laundry while there.

I rarely bring more than the basics in makeup and jewelry and other sundries. I keep it simple.

The last time we traveled we used our ATM to get cash, the machines automatically convert the currency and the rate was better than when going into the bank. Has anyone got thoughts on whether it's best to get traveler's checks or to just get money as needed from atms? What do you usually do?

I will make a list later in the day. Right now it's time to shower and get dressed. Philip is going to learn to brew beer today with his good friend Richard who's coming over soon. I'm still in my jammies. I think it's time to get dressed so I can go play Legos with Max as I promised him I would do.

Please, share your thoughts on travel necessities!

Saying Goodbye To Many Miles Of Road

The guidelines for my year of eating both locally and seasonally.

Over the past few days I have been looking at labels of origin and compiling lists of things that might not fit into my local/seasonal challenge. I have also been considering which list of things will still be acceptable in spite of being made far away. Some things aren't that hard to say goodbye to for a year. Other things, however, feel more painful. One of those things is yogurt. I love yogurt, but only one kind: "Nancy's" which I was sure was made in California. I hate yogurt that has a congealed texture, or that is too loose, or that is too rich. Nancy's is the perfect yogurt. I love that it's tart and firm. (Oh dear, that sounded a little different than I meant it to). Last night I checked the label and guess what?

It's made in Eugene Oregon!!!!

I never thought I would feel such joy and excitement over such a small detail. I actually plan to make some of my own yogurt using a very cool early 1970's yogurt maker that Lisa B. has lent me, but the culture I plan to borrow is from Nancy's. It's also such a relief to know that if I don't like my home made results or if I am unable to make it at times, I can buy Nancy's and be within my challenge limits. Ahhh....the simple pleasures.

On the other hand, here are a few things I will no longer allow myself to buy as of October 1st:

• Sierra Nevada beer (although Oregon makes many fine beers, Sierra is my all time favorite and it's hard to imagine not drinking it for a whole year.)

• Feta cheese. I will have to learn to make it for myself (I've been wanting to anyway). All the feta cheese that's affordable (such as that found at Trader Joe's) is not local. All the local feta is too expensive to eat considering my capacious appetite for this, my favorite cheese on earth.

• Parmesan. Same with this staple in my diet. I don't think there's a single local source for it. This will be hard. When I'm trying to lose weight, Parmesan digs me out of the no-cheese blues. It can spruce up any meal without adding unbearable mountains of calories to it. So much flavor in one tablespoon of it. I don't believe they make any in Oregon. If they do, I suppose this may end up being one of those spendy splurges.

• Kalamata olives. My diet is heavy in these but as I'm already allowing myself to continue to buy imported olive oil from Trader Joe's, I felt that these should not be allowed.

• Coconut milk. I don't cook a lot of Asian style food, but there is one winter squash soup I love to make that calls for it and I'll have to come up with a satisfying alternative.

• Dried pasta. This could be tricky. Finding local sources for pasta. One of my favorite types of pasta is angel hair and I've never seen an artisan angel hair pasta. I can, however, make my own ravioli, spaghetti, and fettuccine. I have a great pasta attachment for my Kitchenaide mixer and I've used it a lot. So I'll just have to rely on myself more for this.

• Pine nuts. Well, this sucks. I've really come to enjoy them, not only in pesto (yes, I know you can substitute walnuts for the pine nuts, but I don't prefer to) but I also love them in salad and there's a great casserole that calls for them. I will look for local sources, but I have a feeling Oregon doesn't produce them.

• Goulden's Mustard. I don't eat a lot of mustard, but ever since I stopped buying bottled salad dressing and started making my own a few years ago I have come to love the zing that this mustard adds to it. I'm addicted. It's the perfect mustard. I don't care for Dijon types because they have a horse-radishy essence that I don't care for. So, what to do? Make my own? Seems like I just might have to. I've been wanting to make mustard for a while now, this offers the perfect excuse.

• Avocados. I could eat two avocados a day. I love them that much. My mother always said about them that they are one of nature's most perfect foods. Most Americans only know them as one of the most fattening luxury foods. But they are packed with potassium, protein, healthy oils for the skin, and other nutrients. I haven't eaten them in a couple of months just because they have been expensive and then I stopped shopping at Safeway, the only place to get an occasional deal on them. It's hurt me to be without them. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep at night.

• Bananas. The other perfect food. I love bananas too. All my life I have consumed large quantities of bananas. I haven't been eating as many of them as usual lately, but I think this may prove challenging, to go an entire year without this fine life sustaining fruit.

There are others, obviously, but after these items it becomes much harder to spot the long miles in my pantry that I'm going to miss.

Here is my official list of exceptions to the local rule:

1. Oils: olive and canola

2. Coffee

3. Spices

4. chocolate

5. baking soda/powder

6. vinegar

Here is a list of acceptable out of season produce that I will buy whenever needed due to their status as prime candidates for a root cellar which is still in keeping with a more environmentally sound way of eating:

potatoes

onions

garlic

carrots

beets

celery*

However, all of these things must be procured locally. That may be more challenging. My year of eating locally and seasonally will begin October 1st. So some things I need to find out are whether anyone around here sells local onions and garlic, and if so, how long into the season are they available? I know there are potatoes grown locally, but they aren't organic. With potatoes being such a staple in my diet (I make very few soups without them, for example) I am going to have to make a tough choice. Do I drop my dedication to only buying organic potatoes, or do I not buy any for a year if I can't find local organic sources? If Harvest Fresh carries local garlic but only for a finite period of time, I need to buy a ton of it, chop it up, mix it with olive oil, and freeze it in cubes so that I can use it throughout the year.

Perhaps many of you are thinking that this is an extreme experiment and don't know why anyone need go to so much trouble. I think it's important that you all know that I'm excited to do this. I love a good bit of experimentation, provided it isn't sexual in nature (I'm so conventional like that...so disappointing, I know). I love to get in the mix and find things out for myself. I don't think the parameters I've set for myself are particularly strict either. I am defining local as being made or grown within my state (Oregon). That's still quite a bit of scope and road for my food to travel.

The reason I'm doing this is to go through a deep learning experience with food, to find out what eating locally and seasonally really means to me personally, what it feels like, and to flush out all the foods that I indulge in without giving any thought to where they come from, how far they've traveled and how old they must be. The purpose is to make myself aware of absolutely everything I put in my mouth for a year. It's like a corporate and crude-oil dependent food detox. The point will be to educate myself, to learn to make much more conscious decisions about what I put on my table. I seriously doubt I could commit to a lifetime of no avocados or kalamata olives, and that's not the point. I don't think any of us need to strictly dedicate ourselves to local and seasonal foods.

However, if we all made more conscious choices, I think we'd find ourselves naturally choosing fresher food with less road burn.

Doing this isn't meant to make anyone else feel defensive about their own habits. This is about my own personal choices and how they might be shaped if I set my food dials a little differently. This is all about how I am a serious food geek and I want to know for myself how it would feel to have these limitations imposed on me. In some measure it will teach me how it used to feel to set the table when you didn't have a million international food choices available to you. It will give me (I believe) a greater understanding of how my forbears ate and shopped. I love connecting with the past that way. It gives the present so much more heft and meaningful context.

Now, for a couple of off topic bits...It's now been 11 days since Max's second nose cauterization and I'm happy to say that he still has not had a nose bleed. This is definitely cause for celebration! Last night he displayed some serious temper in which he engaged in his favorite trick of tensing his whole body up to show us how mad he is, it makes all the blood rush to his face, which in the past often resulted in a very dramatic bloody nose. This time he just reminded me of the Ben Stiller character in the movie "The Mystery Men". The guy whose super power is to get really mad.

On a final note: I finally cracked open one of my jars of Silvan Berry jam and I have got to report that it is SO GOOD I MIGHT NOT SHARE ANY. No, I will. But one thing I know for sure, if I can't find any sources for them next year (this year's source was selling off the Silvan Berry acres and planning to ditch the berries) then I am going to have to find a way to purchase some canes for my own yard. I will need more of these wonderful berries. Oh yes. I'd give you a piece of toast generously slathered in it if I could. Oh boy, that's what I'm going to go eat right now.


*Again, this is an exception. Both not seasonal and not local, I really don't see how I can cook a season of winter soups without it.

Petty Crimes And Misdemeanors

Petty misdemeanor #1: When the local health food store has a vast collection of Saturn peaches with moldy stem ends, and regular peaches covered in bruises and crawling with ants. Yes, ANTS. I know this is a tough economy, but there is no excuse to try to sell people old substandard food for the cost of a new born baby. They only partially atone for the lack of freshness that most of their produce exhibits by selling the most beautiful basil I have ever seen in my life which they only occasionally let go limp.

Petty Crime #2: To eat at Jack In The Box during the height of the best season of the year for fresh food. No wait, the crime is to eat there at all. Ever. I saw a huge line of cars at the Jack In The Box drive up window yesterday and it made me so sad to see so many people choosing salty grease flavor over all the options this season opens up- what about a tomato-basil-mozzarella salad with oil and balsamic vinegar? Or if you really crave that all American meal, why not make your own damn hamburgers? NOT HARD TO DO PEOPLE. If I could afford to do it I would stand on the other side of those drive ups and hand out really good food that's easy to make. I would drag all those pasty fast food asses to a cooking classroom and show them how cheap and easy it is to make good food at home.

Petty Misdemeanor #3: To pick carrots from your own garden and let them sit on the counter for two days getting wilty and then still not use them for anything. I must atone for this one by using them in a soup. I plan to make a lentil soup today. Lentil soup is so good. I have those fancy little French lentils that need using and it would just be the hugest shame to waste those carrots. Can I just defend myself a little bit here by pointing out that much of my garden produce has had to spend a couple of days on the counter due to overbooking the fridge space with other food? Can I get off with a warning this time?

Petty Crime #4: To shop at Walmart. Oh wait, that's more like a felony. I have gone there twice in two years, one of those times was yesterday. I went because staples didn't have any Fiskar scissors and I figured that since I can't get my favorite underwear anywhere else here in town, I would buck up and enter the American ideal of hell. Oh god. The atmosphere in there is suffocating and brawling and scrappy and fat and cheap and crappy and depressing and loud and poor and represents the lowest point of our culture and our national personality.

No other store has quite so many crying babies, whining children, unhappy adults, nagging voices, or so many isles of candy and other forms of the worst kind of "food" available to mankind. Why is it I never see confident stylish people there? And at what point in my life did I start looking exactly like a person who's favorite place to shop is Walmart? That is a major crime. I realize, (and this never ceases to surprise me), that many of my favorite people shop there. People I love, respect, think are beautiful, kind, conscientious, and politically savvy. I never see them there when I'm there, though. I see low America. I see mostly desperately depressed and stressed moms trailing children behind them like loud shackles. They all look tired and look like they're losing hope through their pores.

It is way worse than JoAnne's Fabric.

I would be willing to argue that Walmart is an American cult bigger than Mormonism. I would not be at all surprised if the "elders" got together to buy out all Walmarts. What could be better than to join together the two hugest cults in our country? Then the Mormon plan to take over the world would be within their reach. What a coup that would be because Walmart is owned by the religious right wing of this country. It would be a battle of dogmas.

I just got the strange visual of Tammy Faye bitch slapping some Mormon lady in Jesus jammies.*


You know what alarms me more than any other aspect of Walmart? That some of the stores sell produce. My brother in law and his wife were telling me that they buy produce there and it just made me infinitely sad and scared that the food people eat has gone so far down the road to perdition that people can buy "fresh" produce in a place that puts all it's value in the word "cheap". My in-laws are good people and deserve to eat food that is good quality and comes from Virginia, where they live. They deserve to have produce that actually tastes good. They deserve to eat produce that actually nourishes them.

Every time I shop at Walmart I feel dirty afterwards. I feel that I have betrayed the potential of my country to be something so much better than it is. I feel that I have betrayed myself, which is much worse. So, that's it. I am renewing my vows to not buy from them again. I will shop online for the few things they carry that no other local store carries. I will not be party to the Walmart degradation of my fellow countrymen. We are worth so much more than what they have to offer.

But don't worry, I will not spout out lectures to all of you who find needs being filled by them. We each have our own journey, we each have our own choices to make and perhaps you have made other healthy choices that I have not yet made. So I'm not going to judge you. But if anyone wants to join me in my resolve, I welcome you!



*A term I only learned last night from our friend Erica who grew up as a Buddist child in Utah, surrounded by Mormons. I'm getting the dirt from the inside now!!