Everyone has them, some more than others. Allergy sufferers like myself tend to generate more than most. Some are clear and runny and will crust up just inside the nostril depending on the nose shape and size. I am most familiar with this type as I deal with them everyday when I venture outdoors where pollens flourish. Others are more viscous and tinted from pale skin tones into deep symptomatic yellows and even to worrisome blood tinged brown. These tend to dry hard while still attached to a long rope seemingly running all the way back down into the throat. Generally this extreme form are a sign of some more severe respiratory distress than mere allergy. The average non-allergic healthy person experiences boogers of a less threatening nature than either the constant running of the clear allergic form or the viscous slim of infection. The question remains. What about boogers?
I don't remember being taught to not pick my nose. I do remember when it was first discovered that I had allergy problems and having to carry tissues with me everywhere to avoid the salty ooze running down over my upper lip and either dripping from my chin or landing on my tongue.
I do remember Edward from second grade. He sat across the row from me. He is the reason I could never name one of my sons Edward nor would I want any of my grandsons so named. Edward was one of those people with more than the normal allotment. While his mother sent him to school with a large handkerchief, I think it was simply not sufficient, looking back on it now. To my horror and utter disbelief, Edward spent most of the class mining his fill and making deposits of his treasures in the closest depository to be found. You got it, his mouth! I could not concentrate on what the teacher was saying and my education was forever stilted by my lack of focus in second grade.
My manly man husband feels this too sensitive a subject to even be addressed in private let alone for public reading. This is such a strong taboo in polite company. Our three year old grandson is enamored with nose mining despite his parent's constant reminders of its inappropriateness. Some how as the adoring grandmother I don't fault my grandson for his passion with picking.
In my life I have observed several types of behavior related to the booger dilemma. There is the prim and proper tissue and hanky carrier who adheres to the social protocols of never allowing bodily fluids to touch the hands. This group only ever blows their nose into the tissue delicately and disposes of the tissue after one use and promptly washes their hands. I can not attest to how the prim and proper type handle themselves in private. Perhaps they get more comfortable with themselves when alone.
The other extreme would be the Edwards of this world. Even in my callous acceptance of boogers as a natural function of life, this group is difficult to forgive even in small children. The majority of people I think fall in varying degrees between the prim and proper tissue carrier to just short of Edward. I have seen the discreet picker, the indiscreet full finger picker, the single nostril-no-tissue blow-to-the-side outdoor clearing, and finally the picker-flicker! Which one are you?
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
What about garbage?
Tuesday morning and the revving, squealing, slapping, banging sounds of the weekly purging of the neighborhood can be heard. Living in the city, as I do, we have three large receptacles for disposing of our various waste materials. One bin is for the yard clippings, one for recyclable items and one for the "garbage". I am pleased that the city composts the yard clippings and recycles what it can. What about the rest of it?
As I look down the street at the bins set out by my neighbors I am aware that I am not alone in having only a minimum of stuff in my recycle bin, not really enough to put it out each week. Well I take that back, on the occasion that I have purchased some new item, that I just couldn't live without, I will have cardboard packaging to dispose of. This week was one of those weeks, after purchasing an assembly required bookshelf in a large box with even more cardboard inside to secure and protect the wood pieces, I had an overflowing recycle bin. The yard waste bin I sometimes fill to the top when I do a lot of tree trimming. It is the garbage bin that I see overflowing from most homes.
I'm thinking of "Road Warriors" and "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome". Are the landfills just big storage facilities that we will look to as a valuable resource at some future time? What would happen if the city stopped collecting what we have deemed unworthy of our space? Would our consumer dependent economic system come to an abrupt halt? Would capitalism come to a grinding halt if we no longer had the ability to throw things into a convenient bin and have it hauled away each week out of our sight and mind? I know I would become much more careful about what I purchased. Things would have to last a lot longer to make them of any value. Technological advancements would not be so readily adapted by the average citizen when all our homes look like a scene from "Hoarders".
I do recall the garbage collectors strike in New York when garbage was piling up in the streets and the citizenry was making a BIG stink! Will our garbage be our downfall? History books will read "United States fell from superpower status when the garbage trucks stopped running!"
As I look down the street at the bins set out by my neighbors I am aware that I am not alone in having only a minimum of stuff in my recycle bin, not really enough to put it out each week. Well I take that back, on the occasion that I have purchased some new item, that I just couldn't live without, I will have cardboard packaging to dispose of. This week was one of those weeks, after purchasing an assembly required bookshelf in a large box with even more cardboard inside to secure and protect the wood pieces, I had an overflowing recycle bin. The yard waste bin I sometimes fill to the top when I do a lot of tree trimming. It is the garbage bin that I see overflowing from most homes.
I'm thinking of "Road Warriors" and "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome". Are the landfills just big storage facilities that we will look to as a valuable resource at some future time? What would happen if the city stopped collecting what we have deemed unworthy of our space? Would our consumer dependent economic system come to an abrupt halt? Would capitalism come to a grinding halt if we no longer had the ability to throw things into a convenient bin and have it hauled away each week out of our sight and mind? I know I would become much more careful about what I purchased. Things would have to last a lot longer to make them of any value. Technological advancements would not be so readily adapted by the average citizen when all our homes look like a scene from "Hoarders".
I do recall the garbage collectors strike in New York when garbage was piling up in the streets and the citizenry was making a BIG stink! Will our garbage be our downfall? History books will read "United States fell from superpower status when the garbage trucks stopped running!"
Monday, June 27, 2011
What about tomatoes?
Red, ripe and so tasty, fresh off the vine where they ripened in the hot sun, they called me to them. I came, so eager, with the salt shaker from the kitchen in hand. They were so big it took both my young hands to grasp it well enough to pick it. My teeth breaking through the taut skin brought seeds and juice pouring onto my face and down my shirt. I would stand in my mother's garden and eat my fill adding only a touch of salt to brighten the deliciousness. Late afternoon sun, filtered through the walnut trees, gleamed off the shiny red skins pointing me to the next luscious fruit. Tomatoes waiting to be plucked from the thick green vines lovingly staked up by my mother's hands.
Memories that stay with us all our lives bringing us a sense of joy, connection and belonging, are treasures to be cherished. I grow tomatoes every year to continue to claim that wholeness and sense of self that I learned from my mother's garden. She worked hard to care for us as children. I was the oldest of four children. My mother had the privilege of working at home while I was growing up. She was what we now call a "stay at home Mom". It was not the rarity in the fifties that it is today. Many of us "Baby Boomers" had the experience of having a mother at home when we came home from school.
I say my mother worked from home though she did not have a "job" that paid her a regular pay check. Her work paid the family in so many ways, things that money can not buy. The love she put into the garden she grew for us to enjoy, the clothes she sewed for us to wear to school proudly, the dinner she had on the table when my father came home from a long day at work bonded us as a family. We were not just six people of varying ages living under the same roof struggling to get through the day. That is not to say that there were not hard times. As a young mother, with one baby, no car and only some spare change as capital, she walked me in the stroller. She invested in some flour and butter. She picked apples from a neighbor's tree. My mother taught herself to make apple pies. These were not just any apple pie but ones that would put Marie Callendar to shame. Once she had perfected the process she made small apple tarts that my father would sell at work to his colleagues.
Much has changed in the world since my childhood. The list of technological changes is extreme. The social and societal changes are fairly extreme as well. Raising a family on one income is no longer easily attainable for the average family in the middle income range. Single parents and step-parents are more common than happily married, never divorced, couples raising their own children. Raising children is much more of a community affair now than it was, given the increase in pre-school and infant/toddler daycare programs for the working parents. For many children today and their parents, growing a garden and experiencing the joys of summer harvest, first hand, is unknown.
In the interest of sharing a connection to the earth and its bounty with my grandchildren as well as the neighborhood children, I will continue to grow tomatoes. I myself was a single mother and my own children did not have the joy of a summer harvest in their backyard. I want to make sure that my grandchildren can come visit and experience the love!
Memories that stay with us all our lives bringing us a sense of joy, connection and belonging, are treasures to be cherished. I grow tomatoes every year to continue to claim that wholeness and sense of self that I learned from my mother's garden. She worked hard to care for us as children. I was the oldest of four children. My mother had the privilege of working at home while I was growing up. She was what we now call a "stay at home Mom". It was not the rarity in the fifties that it is today. Many of us "Baby Boomers" had the experience of having a mother at home when we came home from school.
I say my mother worked from home though she did not have a "job" that paid her a regular pay check. Her work paid the family in so many ways, things that money can not buy. The love she put into the garden she grew for us to enjoy, the clothes she sewed for us to wear to school proudly, the dinner she had on the table when my father came home from a long day at work bonded us as a family. We were not just six people of varying ages living under the same roof struggling to get through the day. That is not to say that there were not hard times. As a young mother, with one baby, no car and only some spare change as capital, she walked me in the stroller. She invested in some flour and butter. She picked apples from a neighbor's tree. My mother taught herself to make apple pies. These were not just any apple pie but ones that would put Marie Callendar to shame. Once she had perfected the process she made small apple tarts that my father would sell at work to his colleagues.
Much has changed in the world since my childhood. The list of technological changes is extreme. The social and societal changes are fairly extreme as well. Raising a family on one income is no longer easily attainable for the average family in the middle income range. Single parents and step-parents are more common than happily married, never divorced, couples raising their own children. Raising children is much more of a community affair now than it was, given the increase in pre-school and infant/toddler daycare programs for the working parents. For many children today and their parents, growing a garden and experiencing the joys of summer harvest, first hand, is unknown.
In the interest of sharing a connection to the earth and its bounty with my grandchildren as well as the neighborhood children, I will continue to grow tomatoes. I myself was a single mother and my own children did not have the joy of a summer harvest in their backyard. I want to make sure that my grandchildren can come visit and experience the love!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
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