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antipodes
Our Hero contemplates a life without unnatural preservatives.
I have a raging curiosity about what it would be like to bake bread without packaged yeast, wear shoes that have been made by hand, and stop using shampoo that comes out of mass-produced bottles. That is, I love my hoodies and jeans but I'd rather support people who make these sorts of things by hand and from natural fabrics. I shall probably knit my next hoodie, anyway.

I have already begged one of my genius sisters to show me how to knit socks; she is making some for a friend for Christmas and assures me the process is less painful than I expect it to be. And even my dad noticed that my seams and sewing whatsits have become more straight and clean, even when I don't trace anything out with a pencil first (I happened to have been asking for input on a pair of slippers I was mutilating by sewing "right" on the left one and "left" on the right, as per the suggestion of previously mentioned genius sister; dad normally avoids commenting on girly crafts).

Through a long time surfing the 'net happily and procrastinating on a number of subjects, I've found some lovely places from which people sell handmade cooking knives, shoes, beds, fabrics, and all manner of things from natural sources. I don't need plastic things and am more than ready to give up anything made of plywood still in my possession. It is much more satisfying to my conscience, too, to support people who work with their hands.

"All very well and good," says the observer, "but isn't that a Starbucks cup in her avatar?" Yes, it is. I'm not returning any gifts or being rude to anybody who buys me polar fleece or serves me canned spaghetti sauce, but I think that as far as it is in my power I would like to live naturally. I'm sure it will take a while to get to a point where it is noticeable and makes such a big difference but hey--I've got time. 
 
chronicle of addiction

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