Interrupting this Hiatus . . .

    . . . to tell you that this hiatus was, in fact, unintentional. First our monitor broke. Strangely enough, there was absolutely nothing leading up to it - it was fine and then, a moment later, a nice white screen with some easter egg coloured lines running through it. Lovely.

    And then the vomiting began. Barf and blogging are not compatible since I have not had a free moment since the barfing commenced. Well, except for now while I'm allowing my children's productive and creative spirits to putrefy while they watch netflix. As usual, I have been protected from this gastrointestinal distress probably by the mercy of God (or the Universe. Or Twitter. I guess it depends on who you talk to!) because isn't it obvious that the one person in the house who can clean, cook, and wash barfy bedding and clothes without heaving should be the one who is spared? Anyway, I'm absolutely radiating happiness over my good fortune, but I have to pretend I'm at least a little glum because I don't want my family beating me over the head for being too cheerful in the face of their misery. Everyone hates that.

Some thoughts I've been having while playing washerwoman:

• Paring down to the point where I realize we need . . . more stuff? WTH!? Turns out when you only have one or two pieces of furniture in each room, it better damn well look good. We look like we're 6 months out from dorm living. Ahem. Also, minimalism has thrown my organizational skills out of whack and made things that previously didn't seem important really important.
  

• Unrelieved white. Sanatorium or calming? Methinks I'm wanting tiny bits of color about as long as I don't have to commit to anything but white.

Love the simplicity of this room. Found here.

• Valentine's Day. Meh. Good God (!) the amount of women who seem to feel like they have failed if they are single on Valentine's Day! What are we doing to our girls? As if female singleness is some kind of plague to be avoided at all costs. Must remember to stress to my children that their value isn't dependent on whether they ever find someone and have babies.

• My mom pointed out that it would be virtually impossible to be a practicing artist and an I-can-fit-everything-in-my-backpack minimalist unless you used your computer or your medium was very tiny. I think this is obvious, but it kind of sent me down another path of thinking. As in, minimalism is about keeping (mostly) only what you need, and some would argue you don't need art, and others would argue that you do. I'm not going to get into anything lengthy here. I think art is more important than minimalism. By far. I also think that minimalism has often, perhaps even most of the time, been introduced by some kind of art, whether it be writing or something else. Minimalism ceases to exist if no one has anything in the first place; see most of the world. So, in order for minimalism to even be important, there has to be stuff. I don't know why this is so interesting to me - but I think it's just changed my relationship with minimalism.
  

• Shocked by the Dervaes Institute (family) trademarking the phrase "urban homestead."  Like many other people, I'd understand if Monsanto was trying to use the term for their own purposes, or Hummer was branding one of their vehicles as perfect for the urban homestead, but the Dervaes are going after people who are ostensibly within their own community - people who practice urban gardening, run teaching courses on it, and blog about it to connect and help others. I guess it's too much to ask people of any common interest to stick together. Sad. Good luck Mr. Dervaes, on getting  your "urban homesteading" supporters to fund your dream of buying land for a remote homesteading community in South America when you're busy sending them what essentially amounts to cease and desist letters. Check these links out for more info:

http://blogs.ocweekly.com/stickaforkinit/2011/02/pasadena_family_trademarks_the.php#comment

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Take-Back-Urban-Home-steadings/167527713295518

http://www.thecrunchychicken.com/2011/02/urban-homesteaders-cease-and-desist.html

http://blogs.laweekly.com/squidink/2011/02/urban_homestead_drama.php

    So, I'll be back next week, just as soon as I can find where, despite me washing everything multiple times, that barf smell is still coming from. Oh, wait, I think it might be might be the sweatshirt I've had on all week while holding people's hair back while they hurl. I promise that the next time you hear from me I'll be clean!

A Fine Romance With No Quarrels

  Last week The Simple Man came home with this book for me. We may or may not have had the tiniest of disagreements before he left for work and he knows I love to read, so it was very sweet of him to be thinking of me even after I might have possibly refused to say goodbye and stomped all over the house that morning. And then I looked at the book and I was torn between making a contemptuous sound like, "Fie!" and being overcome with how generally awesome The Simple Man is, barring his choice of books for me. Why? Because one look at the cover made me suspicious that this book was not my cup of tea, unless I liked my tea highly predictable, saccharin, and with a side of heaving bosoms. Reading the back just confirmed it. I asked him why he bought me a romance novel and he looked surprised.

Him: Huh? I thought it was about a strong woman. I thought you liked strong women. (I'm not sure why in his mind romance and strong woman are incompatible. Must think on that.)

Me: Where are you getting this strong woman stuff from? Did you even read the back?

Him: No. (Picking up book and reading from it) Look, it says: #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author! (He has no idea how little that means to me. If anything, it probably means I won't like it.)

Me: Can't you tell it's a romance novel from its cover?

Him: What? No - it's a little cottage. I thought you liked cottages!

    Needless to say, he would not believe me until I was forced to read out loud a passage involving a woman that looked like a Barbie, a man with a cleft chin, and contained the words lush, nuzzle, and heavy, nestled among more salacious adjectives. I think I made my point.

    Now here is what fascinates me, it might bore you though, how did I know the moment I saw it that it was a romance and he didn't? I'm guessing it's gender marketing and advertising. As an American woman, have I been so saturated with these types of messages my whole life that I'm now programmed to instantly recognise whether something geared towards women will interest me? Probably. It's the same reason that when I see pink handled household tools for women I want to weep and smash things. I know they are marketing these tools for me as a woman, and even though I reject them they do attract other buyers. There are plenty of women (and possibly men?!) to whom this kind of book speaks to immediately. Which is what that use of soft sunset colours and meta-messaging in the plot description on the back are for. The book tells them they will like it just as it told me I would not like it. I find it very interesting that The Simple Man took the book at face value, something I would not be able to do. He is either completely immune to gender marketing messages when it's not for his gender, OR it wasn't strong enough to break through his man barrier to inform him. I think it's the latter because I know he wouldn't have come home with a book depicting a couple passing out from desire for each other on the cover; that sort of advertising is bold and obvious. My book was definitely more coy and less graphic, but a romance all the same. And he knows I don't enjoy them.

    Also, I just want to say that I have nothing against romance novels. As much as I love good literature, there are times I'm tired and I just want to read something entertaining. I really enjoyed the Steig Larsson novels, but I'm not going to pretend they are great literature. Far from it, the dialogue tended towards agonizing at times. I am not judging the readers of romance novels. I don't think women who read romances are stupid or unrealistic, I think they want to escape for a short while and romance is their choice.  Me, I prefer a dead body, adventure, history, and moderate psychosis for escapism.

    All this made me think about my own buying habits. While it's clear that I avoid products that clash with my interests, it's also been obvious to me for a long time that I'm totally susceptible when it comes to packaging I like. Case in point. I spent two more dollars buying hot chocolate in this achingly adorable little bottle when I could have had the organic kind in a tin for less.

    I tell myself that the bottle is reusable and I do have plans for it, but that doesn't mitigate the affect the packaging had on me in the first place. I have a background in retail and often attended seminars during natural food conventions about advertising and marketing when I was a buyer blah blah blah and I still cannot help myself. It is powerful. I am very conservative when it comes to spending money, and I do try to remain immune to advertising and good packaging unless they fit all the qualifications for what I need and want. Mrs. Meyer's cleaning products come to mind. I find them  hard to resist  because of how they smell and the way they look on my counters. I could buy less expensive products or even make my own in some instances, but I am weak. After all this uncluttering, minimalism, simple living and/or frugalness, do you feel like you are still affected by marketing and advertising?