I checked the mail today and got my latest Nordstrom catalogue. Next week starts their half-yearly sale, my favorite shopping event of the year, second only to the Nordstrom Anniversary sale of course. There's just nothing that compares to that happy shiny feeling you get when you walk through their doors. And come on, what other store serenades you with grandiose piano playing while trying on Cole Haan Nike Air Sole strappy heels?
But this time, I am having a hard time justifying a splurge on clothes (even beautiful, beautiful clothes). I have recently made a change in my lifestyle, much influenced by having read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver and having watched numerous socially conscious independent documentaries courtesy of Netflix (I don't have cable, not even NBC thanks to Time Warner). In an effort to be more "green" and support my local economy, I'm trying to buy goods that are produced as close to Austin as possible - buying things that are produced close by inherently supports local businesses and reduces the amount of petroleum required to transport those things.
Naturally I have started with food goods, since 1) I love to eat and 2) I love to eat. The downtown farmers market is my first pick because they have a variety of meats (cornish hens, feral hogs, lamb) and wonderful organic produce from Central Texas farms. (My fanaticism for Central Market has faded...their produce section, though quality, consists of fruits and vegetables from California, New Jersey, and as far away as Holland...think of all the gas required to ship and store those peppers...the only thing from Texas I found was alfalfa sprouts and sunflower sprouts...I guess Texans like sprouts?)
You can even buy dairy products at the farmers market. Ray bought a delicious jar of feta cheese that was made by Brazos Valley farms in Waco. There's also fresh pasta. This past week I made a yummy dish using wild mushroom papardelle from Pasto & Co. (made in Austin on Kerbey Lane). I just tossed the pasta with a lemon cream white wine sauce I made and added shredded cheese and diced tomatoes. There's even bread, fresh fish, and flowers (if I ever get a green thumb I will buy one of those flowers).
So here's my dilemma: considering most clothes are not made in the USA at all, how can I allow myself to buy clothes from a corporate retailer that isn't even based in Texas?
This problem is stressing me out. I think I need some retail therapy.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Falling
My favorite time to be in Austin and the Texas Hill Country is between March and April when the bluebonnets and other wildflowers cover the sweeping fields and even manage to make I-35 look like a beautiful sea of blue. However, when the first cold front hits after months of heat, I fall in love with fall.
It's a short-lived affair. One to two days in, allergies betray my trust and a lover's quarrel between congestion and runny-nose-like-a-drippy-faucet ensues. This year I was extremely desperate and bought a Neti Pot after hearing my co-workers rave about the miraculous effects it brings.
This is a Neti-Pot:
And I love it.
According to the Himalayan Institute website, the Neti Pot "naturally cleanses, refreshes, and protects the nasal passages, one of our body's first lines of defense against illness. Recommended today by doctors and pharmacists worldwide, the Neti Pot has been used for thousands of years in Ayurvedic medicine to alleviate sinus and allergy problems."
Just like love, the first time is the worst. Imagine shoving the spout up your nose and pouring a warm saline solution up one nostril, breathing through your mouth, overcoming the sensation of drowning in a pool, and feeling a mixture of mucus, water, and salt come out the other side. But once you get past that moment of panic, you're in the clear.
I neti-pot in the morning and I'm considering adding a second night-time neti to my regimen. I recommend doing it behind closed doors. In my experience, inviting a loved one to witness the neti-potting elicits weird looks and awkward excuses. (Like trimming your nose hair in the car with an electric trimmer is a socially appropriate act.)
In short, I am once again in love with fall - tailgates, pumpkins and squash at the farmers market, breezy walks on the greenbelt and Townlake - thanks to a little ceramic pot I call My Neti.
It's a short-lived affair. One to two days in, allergies betray my trust and a lover's quarrel between congestion and runny-nose-like-a-drippy-faucet ensues. This year I was extremely desperate and bought a Neti Pot after hearing my co-workers rave about the miraculous effects it brings.
This is a Neti-Pot:
And I love it.
According to the Himalayan Institute website, the Neti Pot "naturally cleanses, refreshes, and protects the nasal passages, one of our body's first lines of defense against illness. Recommended today by doctors and pharmacists worldwide, the Neti Pot has been used for thousands of years in Ayurvedic medicine to alleviate sinus and allergy problems."
Just like love, the first time is the worst. Imagine shoving the spout up your nose and pouring a warm saline solution up one nostril, breathing through your mouth, overcoming the sensation of drowning in a pool, and feeling a mixture of mucus, water, and salt come out the other side. But once you get past that moment of panic, you're in the clear.
I neti-pot in the morning and I'm considering adding a second night-time neti to my regimen. I recommend doing it behind closed doors. In my experience, inviting a loved one to witness the neti-potting elicits weird looks and awkward excuses. (Like trimming your nose hair in the car with an electric trimmer is a socially appropriate act.)
In short, I am once again in love with fall - tailgates, pumpkins and squash at the farmers market, breezy walks on the greenbelt and Townlake - thanks to a little ceramic pot I call My Neti.
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