MakeupFree and MakeupLess

A "MakeupFree Me" in the morning!

I periodically go through phrases that are with and without makeup. Working at some plush "rich white man" gig in the city? Oh hecks yeah, I wear War-Paint to that meeting and lots of it, if that's what it takes to make the deal go down with you, idiot! 

Me: concealer set with powder and some blush, in the afternoon!

Humbly working from home on my own stuff, on an old (and supposedly) "outdated" system? Nope, just me and my old clothes here, y'all! 

Me: morning time, hairband and ponytail, then make breakfast.

But it's really not a series of hard-and-fast rules that I rush through compulsively. Sometimes I skip the face paint AND I work summer hours at a seasonally slow publishing house. Who cares? It's hot out, and maybe my skin needs a rest in the heat. 

Woke up, tied back the curtains, and looked out the window. Who's that?

Plus, I have a lot of work to do, and quietly so, too, while the rest of humanity leaves town to go on vacation. Go, and good riddance to you! Or, maybe I want to go to the store while I'm working from home AND I also dot cover-up on that stubborn blemish. Who knows? Who cares?!

Yeah, I've got a blemish. So what? Not in the mood. Got work to do.

The point is this: I'm not on some big anti-makeup "Crusade", because if I were on that particular quest, human, you'd sure as hell know it. I'd be sportin' a big red cross (hand-sewn by me) right across my chest in recognition of that fact, yo. Besides, we fought those old battles centuries ago, and moved on from it. Far from it.

Bathed, dressed, and brushed, but no makeup. I like my hair in this one.

No, I don't hate girls with face-paint, be it a little or a lot, because I don't hate myself with it on, nor without it either, and neither do my close family and friends. After all, they have seen me in all lights (as they see me still), and they've found me worthy of beauty, along with their beauty, too. That's real. See it here, for yourself.

Right before bath time. My love asked me to take this shot.

My "Nigella Lawson in the kitchen" look, with some makeup on.

I just woke up and my eyes are still red!

Parents in town taking you to a fancy steak house dinner? "Glamour Girl"!

On a technical aside: Please note that all of the pics you see here were snapped by me and posted by me, on my (again) "old" iPhone3. I don't have a design system set up (because, once again, it's old and outdated, thus rendering it unusable, as it broke down from "Planned Obsolescence"*), so all my magic comes from me, a good camera built into a nifty smartphone, and whatever filters that I sometimes choose to use on a Mac iPhone and/or an Instagram app. You're welcome!

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Planned_obsolescence

Edamame Salad

Weekday salad with leftovers.

I bought a bag of frozen soy beans in their pods, known as "edamame" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edamame), because I developed a taste for them in sushi restaurants around the U.S., typically served warm and covered in sea salt. They are surprisingly good, but for a table of one, a whole bag of them grew cold quickly. What to do? 

Some out of them went into batches of box macaroni and cheese prepared with cooked chopped meat and fried onions, an old college staple for budget cooking that's been an on-and-off  but reliable go-to dish in lean times, or sometimes when I'm simply in the mood for it.

As their last day grew near (the pods emitted a telltale fishy odor, and turned greenish brown), I finally used the last of the soybeans in a salad dressed with red wine vinegar, non-GMO coconut oil that I melted stove top, salted and peppered, with a couple of cranks from an Italian seasoning herb blend for added flavor, diced white Spanish onion, a few fresh basil leaves, some leftover sunflower seeds, et voila!

Happy eating, cooks.

The Red Room

 

A fable in three photos.

 

At Home: The Houseplant

Chinese evergreen (Aglaonema Crispum ‘Deborah’) http://www.pennhillslawnandgarden.com/clean-air-plants/ 

Weird Trash

One of my neighbors went through his stuff, to sort it out before moving across the country, which is always a great idea. It's a great idea anytime, actually. You never know what you'll find (http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2014/06/the-vintage-tee.html), 
and clutter is a real productivity killer, so, barring any deeply psychological hoarder-type issues that require strong, daily doses of anti-psychotics and almost constant, round-the-clock therapy, take a deep breath, open up a box, and just start. Call it "Feng Shui" if you want to make it sound extra exotic, like some Ancient Chinese secret.

"Hello, invisible ghost dog!"

Anyway, my neighbor was busily sorting through his stuff one day when I was throwing out my regular, dull, every day garbage, and we had a good, brief exchange about his brother's taxidermy gift, and his older model (but still bitchin') Harley bike. The next day, I found the remnants of his cleaning in the garbage pails, which I photographed. 

This is a "negative", or "film strip".

Don't wait for death or jail time: do it now. What have you got to lose, other than junk? Trust me, your tasteless knickknacks are worth jack shit, man, even on eBay, if you can figure out how to do that. Lose the baggage, and join us free people in society. What are you waiting for? A long holiday weekend?! JUST DO IT. DO IT NOW. Thank you.

Food: Creamy Pasta

Penne and sausage and zucchini and cream. Oh, my!

We have a bounty of perfectly beautiful, succulent green squash from New Jersey pouring into the store with a rich profusion that screams "Cook with me!" Yeah!! I've waited months for this kind of produce. 

Sometimes I treat my kitchen and pantry items like an episode from the cooking show Chopped: What can I make from what I have on hand? It's actually really fun, without the intense on-camera pressure, berating, viciously competitive saboteurs, and the brutal, insanely quick time line.

A bowlful of pasta perfection!

I decided to combine the squash sitting so perkily and prettily on the refrigerator shelf with some leftover penne, pecorino romano, a little light cream, all natural sausage flavored with spices, sea salt, and natural flavorings, tossed into garlic and onion fried in coconut oil, all items I bought on sale and in season. Mmm, mmm, mmm!
Take a look for yourself, and see.

Welcome to summer, readers! Today is the first day.

Health News: Under Your Arm

I've known for years about the link between breast cancer and commerical anti-perspirants/deodorants, my introduction to it via the then-fringe "granola"  world, coming at me during art school, when I willingly elected to live in a house with some touchy-feely vegetarian types, who remain my friends to this day. Back then there were no harder core levels like the vegan, the gluten-free allergist, or the macrobiotic, because just being a vegetarian was weird enough, though my housemates did introduce me to levels like the "lacto ovo" vegetarians and "pescatarian"; those who eat dairy items, like eggs and cheese, and those who also integrate some fish into their diets. I grew accustomed to eating a lot of pasta with vegetable tomato sauce, brightened with hot sauce and Muenster cheese, to make up for the lack of animal protein in my diet. It didn't work for me, because I'm genetically an omnivore, but I learned some very useful items during my time with the Peta-supporting vegetarian crowd, namely that most of our cosmetics and toiletries are made with really unhealthy shit. I had no idea that toothpaste had sugar in it, until my friend told me companies added it so kids would get hooked on the taste to use more product, which is the exact opposite of a dentist's advice about avoiding sugary foods that promote tooth decay. Oh, the irony. My sensitive friend also left out the latest Peta pamphlet she picked up from the local hippie food store with a dramatic picture of the poor rabbit who developed pink eye while forced to submit to eye makeup testing; the only granola grocery store in Providence, RI at the time, with sparsely stocked shelves holding expensively priced items aimed at that "Trustarfarian" near you (a rich kid who wears really expensive hemp clothes, like the shit Gwenyth Paltrow posts on her Goop blog). Yeah, that type of rich kid: really annoying, but kinda right. Anywho, their focus also extended to cosmetic items. 
 

Irritated...by baking soda!

There was Dr. Bonner's soap in the bathroom, printed with his folksy End of the World scenarios about our collective scary future, which was used for hair, skin, and tub cleaning, along with the Moosewood cookbook in our vegetarian kitchen, all rigorously correct items for any self-respecting do-gooder going to a college so expensive, that the few middle-class kids I knew in my classes had parents who took out a second mortgage to gamble on their RISD kids future successes. Yeah, like that kind of pressure. So I went with it, and folded it into my current lexicon. Years later, at a recording studio in Denver, I worked with a guy who lost his Mom suddenly, with no real answers about her death at the time our employment histories overlapped, except for one finding from the doctor who performed the autopsy: an overdose to her system from Mercury poisoning. I never forgot his story, nor the fact that he completely refrained from any kind of under the arm treatment, except for the occasional use of those salt crystals you find in the hardest core hippy store. I can't go with that crystal thing, (it's just so friggin' hippy crazy), but I do supplement my health care routine with under arm baking soda, so effective at controlling bacteria, that there is no under arm funk AT ALL, but the stringent salt does cause a red, itchy reaction with me. So, it's back to expensive organic lavender roll-on, which I can't really afford, but I try to look at it this way: how can I afford not to? It'll last a lot longer than the cheap $.99 stuff now marked down for quick sale (thanks to those pesky ingredient baddies we know about), but you take a gamble on your future health and the risks involved by ignoring your doctor's sage advice. Huh...death, or food stamps? For now, I know what my choice is, but I really hate being in this position. Take it on as an issue, folks, before you really have no choice. à bientôt!

http://www.mamavation.com/2014/06/armpit-cleanse-reduce-breast-cancer-risk.html

Mental Illness: Now Appearing Near You

I've touched on the subjects of sociology and psychology before but not at length, though it's greatly affected me through exposure to individuals not in full possession of their faculties. When I watch the news, it occurs to me that I'm not alone in this experience throughout the world, as behavior that starts in the home and ends in a disastrous collision of the private with the public. Like many people, I struggled with whistle-blowing on sick people versus my safety, resulting in the loss of home, health, and income; choices many of us face at home and at work every single day. I've worked with people so sick, they rocked back-and-forth in their chairs all day while at work, muttering curse words over and over again, or whispering threats at employees without any consequences at all. True: the world is unsafe, life is hard, and I accept that. Nothing new to this working class girl.

A cursory list of the latest headlines speaks to the major health care crisis in our country, as a plague that tells its tale in psychosis and gun violence. The "Virgin Killer" in California, who legally bought three separate handguns, posted sick rants detailing his future crimes on YouTube before he committed them. He manifested such extremely violent tendencies that his aunt called the police to alert them about his obvious status as a walking time bomb (http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/california-killings-elliot-rodger-was-described-as-polite-and-courteous-during-welfare-check-by-police-9432530.html), but nothing happened. Unfortunately, someone has to break the law before legal action takes place, and an intelligent criminal knows exactly where the dividing lines are, much better than you and l. That's their big advantage in the world: shock and awe, for the dual purposes of hurt and destruction. Ask anyone who's been harassed, stalked, or threatened, and they'll tell you a similar story, to the ongoing frustration of law enforcement officers and psychiatric health care workers, and that's just the beginning.

There's a recent spate of murders in NYC, again, perpetrated by an individual so unfit for a place in our society, that his parole officer told anyone who would listen in authority that he would murder someone soon, and then he did (http://nypost.com/2014/06/06/parole-officer-warned-cops-brooklyn-ripper-was-dangerous/). Need more examples? No problem. I got that: the school shooting in Oregon (http://www.cnn.com/2014/06/11/justice/oregon-high-school-shooting/), the psychologist with security clearance who calmly let himself onto an army base to commit what he felt was a "revenge" murder (http://www.cnn.com/2014/04/03/us/fort-hood-shooting/), not to mention the massacres in Colorado, now infamous.

What is it? Where does it come from? Just like conversations about global warming and starving children in Africa, the answer is as old as slavery and murder: because it's a part of human nature. But, how did it get this bad? I have a theory that I'm road-testing, which is quickly gaining support. The answer is this: a greater dissolution between public and private in "The Age of Transparency", because there's less room to hide, and for healthy people like myself, that is a very good thing indeed. What was once hidden at home, like a body surreptitiously buried in the backyard at midnight, way out in the country, with no proof of wrongdoing, has now gone public. Ed Gein lived in a place so rural, he could get away with it. Jeffrey Dahmer preyed on homosexual men, a group that traditionally had very little public support or empathy. "Jack the Ripper" likewise preyed on another famously disenfranchised group, the street-walking prostitute, often a societal target for psychotic rage and murderous intent.

Now that today's individual is much more savvy about the early signs of illness (thanks to the widespread access of such information), those of us who grew up in homes of the sick are often forced into the roles of psychiatrist and law enforcer unwillingly, and that is extremely threatening to someone who seeks to hide their paranoid psychosis with violent tendencies. Children and teens who witness this behavior routinely are groomed to accept abuse as acceptable, as they're gradually conditioned to it (along with the rationale for it) through complicity, similar in method to a pedophile or addict. Who are we to give voice to a major worldwide health crisis? We're nobodies, and that's exactly what someone who is desperate to exploit us counts on, though those rules are changing, too. The kids who are artists, thinkers, and makers are no longer the "kooky" black sheep in their respective families, as "The Digital Age" and the "Design Intelligence" movement now lead the world. 

Hmm...who then to disenfranchise, isolate, and victimize? It's become harder to do so, and so the disordered responded by setting up their family members through constant vicious attacks in secret, sabotaging them until they appear to be the opposite of what's true in public, because that's what bad parents do. I saw a story in that vein just yesterday: a girl was raped, then her crazy parents pushed her into the media spotlight to get attention for themselves, and then they forced her to take to "the low road" through deliberately enforced impoverishment to survive, after they cut her off financially. The result? 

A teenage pregnancy and a convict "baby-daddy", gaining plenty of evidence to do her in and discredit her point of view. In order to survive adverse conditions, it's not uncommon among whistle-blowers in the home to be singled out as a primary target for family scapegoating. After all, what can a dependent teenager really do in retaliation? They held all the cards, along with the money and their seemingly suburban perfection, except the facts didn't exactly pan out. Their daughter tested "positive" for drugs while living in their home, and now, safely on her own as a working single mother, she's clean, even with random drug tests, which she volunteered to do: http://www.drphil.com/shows/show/2136.

I saw an episode of "Judge Judy" that was so bad, the bailiff had to warn the defendant by looming over him physically until he was subdued enough to speak somewhat coherently, bringing no defense to the table or excuse for his poor behavior whatsoever, in a brazen show of delusional cockiness that grows worse and worse every day. Another man on the show, in a separate case, lashed out at the judge in a way I'd never seen before. When she pointed out that his crazy behavior was the result of his mental state and medication, he shot back at her (in full view of the public, on t.v.): "You, too! You need medication, too!", and I actually gasped. Another woman was so unmanageable, her entire case was dismissed, because the judge repeatedly told her to be quiet and, red-eyed with rage, she declared defiantly "I will not!". The mentally ill no longer respond to authority figures, public shaming, financial consequences, or the law.

It's become harder for sick people to find targets for their aggression, easy as it is for us to openly view their sick behavior and then testify about it; witness any reality t.v. show nowadays about dating, drinking, and mental illness. They've been forced into the public arena to act out their rage, because our private spaces have become safer from a growing movement of support and education, thanks to the brave people who are willing to speak out, even to their detriment. And therein the problem also lies—because even obvious outward manifestations are not enough to get someone help anymore, like I observed at any one of my office gigs. A sick guy I worked nearby had ranted all day long to himslef at his computer (OCD), within clear earshot of the entire office space, visibly twitching, talking, cursing, and starting from his chair compulsively, something I often see in other public places like subways and libraries. 

Where once a family could exert financial and social pressure upon a disordered person, forcing them to conform, the economy changed to our detriment. Now, the sick have power and money, which is more easily done with a damaged morality (http://www.nbcnews.com/news/sports/donald-sterlings-mental-health-figures-clippers-sale-report-n118176). What do you do when those in power are mentally unfit to serve our best interests? My generation, Generation X, was painted as "slacker" because as a population group, we were blocked from implementing change by those same corrupt Baby Boomers who have/had numbers on their side, but just like in life, our time has finally come. In the process we became leaders, as we waited until a new population could respond to our ways of thinking, like Gen Y and Millennials have shown through their abilities to adapt to technology and respond to change, embracing a world vision that's greener, safer, saner, and healthier, not because it benefits them immediately, but because it's the right thing to do.

The answer is dual-fold, combined with better healthcare laws and stricter gun laws. There's absolutely no good reason that a college student like "The Virgin Killer" should legally possess three guns for his "self defense". It's absurdly irrational, these old laws made to please unsafe extremists, and it will change. Healthcare must follow suit. Without better mental healthcare reforms in place, all we can do is cry out yet another warning at our own expense, bankrupting our lives in the process, because self-sacrifice is what a honorable person does while actively seeking change, waiting for the tides to turn. And the tides, ushered along by global warming, are turning. 

Welcome to "The New World Order". We've had enough. No longer will the sane cower in fear at the hands of tyranny, because this world operates on one very powerful principle that was previously hidden in the dark, nursed in secret, now reaching its final, unhealthy conclusion as an end to it all, and that is this: transparency.  
What a beautiful world it will be.

Toothpaste, and Other Acts of Kindness

Simply organic, with no bullshit added.

When the last of my so-called "natural", big, name-brand toothpaste ran out, I went back to the shelves of the truly hardcore section of my local grocery store, the ones holding actual organic products, for a replacement. You see, that "Uncle Tom" of a brand has Sodium lauryl sulfate in it (http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2010/07/13/sodium-lauryl-sulfate.aspx), along with a host of other chemical baddies, which directly conflicts with its supposedly wholesome brand. Huh. A company that lies to the consumer? No. Can't be!

Well, the actual healthy brands are priced so far out of reach of the average consumer (in the $8-10 range, a complete joke for working families struggling to make ends meet), that I knew I had to find a better solution. Like any good herbalist, I trusted my instincts to guide me in the right direction. And there it was online; the solution presented itself to me under me deft fingertips: a recipe for making my own toothpaste at home, and here it is: http://www.crunchybetty.com/homemade-toothpaste-want-to-ditch-the-fluoride?printthis=1&printsect=1.

I had some mint leaves that were turning quickly, so I cut some up and put it in the first batch that I made. Unfortunately, without a bunch of preservatives, real food spoils quickly. Yuck! The next batch was truer to the recipe: coconut oil, baking soda, peppermint oil, and some organic Stevia to take the edge off of the extreme saltiness that comes with baking soda. At first my gums tingled a bit and then ached lightly (not in a bad way, more like the itch that comes with a small cut healing), but, you know what? When I brush my teeth now, I see no blood in the sink, and I brush a couple of times in a row with my homemade toothpaste to get that clean feeling I like.

I was told years ago that I had the early onset of periodontal disease by a dentist, and that I needed really expensive planing (a intense type of cleaning, done in sectors, over a couple of visits) of my teeth to remove plaque, for which there is no cure, according to the slick, hip, Brooklyn dentist I saw. Truth be told, I have always seen blood in the sink from my gums when I brush my teeth, even as a small child. Some dentist or other always told me just to continue brushing my gums, and that they would "toughen up" over time. But, it never happened. Until now.

You're welcome.

p.s.- I took the remaining mint leaves and some of the organic peppermint oil to the bath with me this morning, and I feel quite moisturized. Expensive spa treatments, indeed.

At Home: A Bit O' Green

A cheerfully full-bodied plant.

I've been busily putting on the final touches to the studio apartment I moved into. This morning's delivery by the local florist (thank you!) filled the space with lovely (and necessary) greenery. I've written before about the principals of Feng Shui (the ancient Chinese philosophical system of harmonizing the human existence with the surrounding environment), but in the end, despite whatever philosophy or system you use, you have to go with your gut, and what feels right. We now know hard science backs up the health-giving properties of indoor plants, and that's just good, solid common sense. Plants clean the air of toxic chemicals to give off oxygen, the stuff of life for us.

It's not easy designing a space. Along the way, I've discovered quirks with this old house: slanted, deeply warped original hardwood floors, with burn marks from flying embers of long-dead fires that roared on the brutally cold nights of an upstate New York winter, and the occasional dropped cigarette butt from former tenants. It's been lived in a long, long time. The man who delivered my rugs, freshly laundered by their family-run carpet cleaning service, (who I recognized from high school back in the day), told me one of his buddies lived in this studio years ago, and so it is in small towns: we're all connected.

Hello, sunshine! A new plant greets the day.

You can tell that the wealthy farm family who originally built the house knew exactly what they were doing, down to the last detail. The back of the house faces the East, letting in the first light of the day, which woke up the animals in the yard, and also the farm hands, way before alarm clocks and daily commuting existed. Almost every night I see a glorious sunset that dips below the rolling hills of the Hudson Valley, where the big porch has held a chair with a gazing person on it for hundreds of years. And that's what great design is really about. No detail, no matter how small, is left out.

Soon to appear here will be the the final layout of the place, with lots of pretty pics showing "before" and "after". I know the design will change with time from the way I have it now (a new chair or two, moving stuff around), but it'll do for now, and it's finally ready for receiving guests and visitors, while life just keeps rolling on.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

At Home: Eucalyptus

Sprigs of eucalyptus in the shower.

I'd pinned something onto a Pinterest board months ago, in anticipation of actually using the tip some time in the future, unlike your average Martha Stewart-like devotee who has no intention of working with her hands. No offense ladies, but I'm no voyeur who fantasizes about other people's wealth and leisurely pursuits. I ain't got time for that. Unlike those of that ilk (again, no offense), I actually started making stuff before I was completely aware of it, like so many of us early humans. Unlike the rest of the herd, I splintered off into that specialized camp who actually succeeds in creating regularly, to such an extent that I knew better than to ignore it. I decided to make it my life's work.

To be honest, I have nothing against dreaming housewives. I spend a lot of time at home, and I've always enjoyed my own company and making spaces feel livable and healthy and good, like many, many women have before me. Even as I knew my life would be fuller than most, I cherish the time I have for hobbies, especially those devoted to hearth and home. So when I pin something onto a bulletin board, either of the cork kind or the newfangled  digital version, I really mean it, just like everything else I do.

It's that kind of authenticity that people have come to rely on me for, and I cherish that, too. I respect myself, and my audience. Years ago, my doctor (a very intelligent woman, and here's the full disclosure: all of my health care workers are women. I mean, like, every single one. Another feminine bias of mine;) advised me about the benefits of eucalyptus oil in a humidifier or steaming bath to naturally unclog congestion, just like those oily, thick, petroleum jellies of yore, except this is good for you AND it works.

With that in mind, I took another leap, and I promised myself that the next time I soaked in a hot bath, I'd get some actual branches of it to hang around the shower head, letting nature do the rest. What's great about this new bathing system (in addition to cleaning my sinuses without drugs), is re-using some of the dried leaves in a steamer pot that I have on the radiator. More natural health benefits: the steamer filled with water humidifies my environment, and gives off that beneficial eucalyptus steam. I get some branches of it from the local florist that they have leftover from the week's other arrangements. Thank you, Schweizer Florist!

When I come home hours later, the good, clean smell of it still lingers in the air. That's a tip on the house from me to you, which is way cheaper than a bunch of OTC pills and a doctor's visit. Take care out there, and remember, winter's almost over.

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/homedecor/

Stay Tuned....

For a handy, designing woman.

Hello, Dear Readers!

So where have I been? Believe me when I tell you that I've most certainly not gone away for good. In fact, the exact opposite is true! 
I've made a big change recently that's taken up a lot of my time. 
It's been exhausting, exciting, nerve-wracking, stressful, lonely at times, and also very worthwhile. Such is the life. Stay tuned for more words and pictures that are soon to come, and stick with me. 
You won't regret it ;)

At Home: Afternoon Light

bookcase still life

At Home: Warmth and Cheer

Christmas time at 3rd Street

This year is a low key Christmas for me for many reasons, so it has become one that I can celebrate without all the hype and merchandise. I see it as a great opportunity for reflection and expression. The theme is very simple: trees, lights, and The Nativity. I have a small African sculpture of the scene carved out of salt sitting underneath this tree, a gift I got from my mom from UNICEF, and a 3D paper assemblage sits atop one of the bookcases. 

The second tree is on the mantle, next to the t.v. In my bedroom, I have a wise man riding on a camel, another gift , this one given to me by my stepmother. I couldn't help but notice my decor is remarkably similar to my church's, though on a much humbler and smaller scale. After so many years of kowtowing to others peoples' ideas about the holidays, ones that were always forced upon me, I also couldn't help but notice that this years' decorations feel the most authentic to me and my ideas about Christmas. 

They bring me a sense of peace and calm I had yet to feel around the holidays, and for that first, I am truly grateful. It's important to feel that connection. How will you celebrate this year in a way that feels true to you?

 

A Green Kind of Clean

Cancer has run rampant through my family, a group known for their overall good health and robust nature. On my maternal side, there's serious longevity passed down through the women, who often live until their late 90's. But recently, minor cancers have been cropping up: first with my aunts, then my mother, a finally with my father. A more serious and life-threatening Stage Four lymphatic cancer attacked my paternal cousin, who ultimately won her long, hard battle, though not without knowing she would develop ancillary cancers as the result of her very aggressive treatments. She fought those and won, too. None of them smoke, drink, or eat to excess.

When our lifespans should be increasing, and they slowly are, isn't it natural for diseases to crop up among the aged? I used to think that, but my cousin was in her 50's at the time of her diagnosis, as was one of my aunts. So then, what is it? I remain convinced it is from the combined toxins we are constantly exposed to through the products we use and consume. A co-worker, her father a leading geneticist, told me the theory I proposed was essentially the same as her father's, a man who ran a famous lab with big, moneyed grants: cancer is the result of environment combined with genetics.

What then can we do to rule out environmental causes? Be very, very careful with the items we bring into our households. It's unfortunate that most "green" products remain more expensive than the cheaper chemical laden products we grew up with. We're also a nation on the go, used to quick, easy fixes. But, that cleaner that works so well for you carries a hefty price tag by compromising your health.

I started using green cleaners years ago, when I could afford them. The problem is, they just aren't that effective. I'm also no stranger to the recession, so I went back to using cheap cleaners laden with Sodium Lauryl Sulfate*. In of itself it may not be harmful, but more research needs to be done about how daily usage of common products interact with each other in our bodies, causing gene mutations. Since these products have been altered chemically in a lab, do we really know how that soapy bath product combines with the chemical you just washed the tub with? Probably not well, and the skin is a porous layer that opens upon immersion into warm water. * http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sodium_lauryl_sulfate.

I've been researching readily available green products for cleaning and beauty for awhile, especially those that are less costly and effective: http://www.mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2012/11/green-on-cheap.html. The experiments continue, and the very old tub in the bathroom was ripe for it. Years and layers of soap scum became immune to commercial cleansers anyway, forcing me to improvise. I'd been using baking soda as a hair rinse. Why not as a cleanser?

Buh-bye tenacious soap scum!

I was amazed at the results. It stripped away tough clinging soap scum like the most expensive, fume-laden, cough-inducing product you've ever used, and with very little elbow grease. I just used a sponge, no abrasive pad or anything like that, and it actually came away with a couple of swipes. Fantastic! Not the cleanser you buy, but the baking soda we've had in our kitchens all this time and overlooked. Give it a go. It's a $1.00 a box for something that works and isn't bad for you. How often does that happen? Not often enough, in my book.  Happy Cleaning to you!

Me, in the bathroom. Glamorous, right?

Picture Window: Hurricane Sky

Picture Window: Rain Drops

Rain drops on window pane, October 26, 2012

this is the way the wind blows

one more day is a gift

My home studio