The Eclectic Writer

Announcing the Eclectic Writer Early Earth Day Reader Challenge

Thanks to those who have taken time to post comments about my previous "early Earth Day post."  Trash, it seems, is an issue that crops up all over the world!

With just 26 days to go until the real Earth Day -- when, suddenly, everyone will become eco-minded for a weekend and scurry to score brownie points and call themselves "guardians of the planet" --

The Eclectic Writer announces its first reader challenge! 

If you just can't wait to find out what this is all about, scroll down to the bottom of this post.  But if you want the dramatic tension, read on and you'll eventually reach the details!

This challenge is the result of another trek to the bus stop and a sighting of fresh, new trash to pick up. This time the grand prizes were one empty bag of Doritos chips and one empty bag of Rollo Gold pretzels. The Doritos bag somehow made it smack into the middle of a prickly thorn bush. The good news was that the thorns were pinning it place, keeping the wind from picking it up and blowing it about the woods. The bad news was that I had to reach into the thorns to retrieve the bag, so I now sport very attractive scratches on my hands.

I was pretty p.o.'d to say the least. I thought to myself, what positive thing can I do to channel this negative energy I'm feeling into something that can help bring about change?

First, I held an impromptu lecture about the evils of pollution with the kids at the bus stop. Venting itself made me feel better. I just hope my neighbors forgive me when their children come home spouting "green" rhetoric at dinner. 

Next, I thought about putting a trash can at the corner. Call me a pessimist, but I know what will happen: a) the trash can will get stolen, b) the trash can will get covered with graffiti, creating an eyesore, or c) my request will be ignored and worse things will befall that "crazy nature lady."

No, I decided to use the power of the pen and visibility of the blog to make my point.:

• Write an op ed piece for our local newspapers about our trashy neighbors.
• Come up with some clever ideas I can do with my children's classes that tie writing to Earth Day.
• Launch the first ever Eclectic Writer Reader Challenge to collect as many ideas about how we can combat the problem of trash.

In the end, I can only hope to make a small difference. But together, with our collective thinking, maybe we can come up with enough ideas that everyone who reads this blog will take away one thing they can do differently all year long that will help clean up the planet.

So here it is...

The Eclectic Writer Early Earth Day Blog Reader Challenge

Let's have some fun and try to make a difference.  My challenge to you, my blog readers:

What can we do throughout the year to change people's behavior so we can keep trash off the streets, out of the woods, and in the garbage cans? 

Share your ideas in the comments section or email me at AnneWitkavitch@comcast.net . If you are willing, please also include some general information about yourself (but only information you would feel comfortable posting on a blog, like your first name or initials, state or country, what you do, and your personal commitment to planet earth!) Feel free to also send along a digital photo of trash that reinforces why we need to do something now! I'll collect and post the responses in a dedicated blog entry to celebrate the real Earth Day on April 22nd. 

Let's have some fun and make a difference!

Celebrating the Earth on My Own Schedule

I spent an hour this morning celebrating Earth Day, latex gloves pulled tightly over my hands, garbage bags in tow.

Wait a minute, you say.  Aren't you pushing the calendar along a bit?  Isn't Earth Day about a month away?

I couldn't wait.  Walking back from the bus stop this morning, I glumly looked over at our property. A beautiful wooded hill stretches from our house all the way up to the corner of our street. Amidst the leafless trees and brush, bottles, plastic bags, and other assorted unnatural objects dotted the landscape. Our yard looked more like an empty city lot behind a deserted building than wooded property in a suburban country setting.

We live in a town that prides itself on its rural beauty, country living at its best.  However, it amazes me that for all the effort put into referendum voting to buy more open space, and opposition to business expansion, and Earth Day activities that go on an entire weekend, people can't do a simple thing like take responsibility for throwing away their own trash on a daily basis.

I know where a lot of it comes from. The high school students eat their breakfast at the bus stop and flick their trash into the woods.  I even found three plasticware containers, lids on and sealed tight, tossed into into the bushes. Or they find our woods a convenient place to throw the half-empty beer cans before pulling into their driveways. A quick race up the stairs and there will be no sign of alcohol anywhere.

But it's not just the younger people.  I found a broken ice scaper from cars that anyone could have tossed out their window. A broken jar was cleaned up to prevent cuts and midday hospital runs to get stitches. Everyone eats fast food. 

Some of the damage is done by local animals, domestic and wild.  An easy-to-reach plastic garbage bag is easy to tear apart for a quick meal of scraps.  Dogs, raccoons, and other critters enjoy human grub, but haven't quite yet mastered the fine art of manners and cleaning up.

When I had finished, I had filled two bags with garbage. These woods were clean.  Traveling later in the day by car, I glanced over at other wooded properties, farms, and yards.  Suddenly it was all noticeable to me.  Bottles strewn next to the grazing cows, paper bags twisted in the rhodedendron bushes.  People are pigs, I muttered to myself.  I never realized how much garbage was out there.

Cleaning up the world one day a year is hardly going to make a difference.  To truly make change happen, we all need to change our behaviors just a little bit every day.  Remember, taking care of the planet begins at home, with each of us, in the simplest ways:

• Teach your children to respect the earth.  Model good behavior to them from an early age. Comment when you see people pollute and let your children know these actions are unacceptable.
• Keep a garbage bag in your car.  Yes, it can be plastic! Better to recycle the plastic bag from Walmart and keep your trash off the streets. Put one in the back seat for the kids to use. Teach them there is a place for trash and it's not on the street.
• Take advantage of drive-thrus. Come on, I know you get a coffee-to-go at least a few times a week. Most drive-thrus have garbage cans conveniently located within easy reach of the car.
• Pump and dump. When you're at the gas station, clean out your car while you're waiting to hand over last week's paycheck to fill 'er up.
• Secure your trash cans.  Tie plastic garbage bags tightly and make sure the tops of the can are tightly secure.  What animals can't sense or smell they won't bother with.

My woods looked lovely when I finished.  But by the afternoon, someone had already thrown a Taco Bell bag onto the side of the road. 

Remember, change behaviors.  It's the small stuff that makes the biggest difference.

Living Life by Saving Lives

Every so often I've found myself in deep, thoughtful conversations with friends and colleagues about the meaning of the work we do.  We ponder over lunch or a coffee...Are we changing the world?  Are we making a difference?

I think all of us mull over this from time to time, especially during our most altruistic moments. Thankfully, many of us find our own personal way to do good in our communities or for a particular cause we support. We take the time to care.

I just found out about a guy I knew in college who is "making a difference" in a very important way.  Raymond Bouchard, founder and president of Avaha Kids and long-time friend of Vermont Shortbread's Ann Zuccardy, has made saving children who are victims of human trafficking  his 24/7 passion, his life's mission to which he dedicates both his days and nights.

According to its mission statement, Avaha Kids, "exists to rescue and care for young victims of child trafficking, enslavement and exploitation throughout the world." The website also proclaims that...

"At this very moment, there are more slaves in the world than at any other time in history; more than during the Pharos of Egypt, the Roman Empire, or the transatlantic slave trade of the colonial era. Modern day slavery takes many forms. One of most prevalent is the enslavement of children through child trafficking."

To learn more about the organization, the Avaha Kids website provides some sobering information about human trafficking, but also some remarkable stories about children who are being saved.  These stories are not easy to read.  But they are important, especially the dedication of one person who is trying to make a difference.

Raymond has just published a book, Unspeakable: The Hidden Truth Behind the World's Fastest Growing Crime. 

Not all of us are going be founders of organizations. It may not be our calling to be on the front lines. Our day jobs may not be entrenched in saving lives.  But we all have a responsibility to be aware of what's really going on in our world, the realities hitting lives around us, and what's being done to change things for the better. 

Awareness is a critical first step to making a difference. 

Stretching Can Be Painful

I rarely post to this blog in the middle of the afternoon. But I just watched a video clip on CNN.com and had to comment. Sadly to me this is a commentary on how we've crossed a fine line between reporting news and fueling speculation and propoganda to get ratings (or in the case of on line, "clicks.")

I "clicked" to watch a news update on the little girl who was power washed by her mother in Florida. Now I am not going to be judgmental here about this case - that is not my intention and, besides, I don't feel qualified to do so. Like most people following this story, I only know what I've seen on the video footage (over and over again I may add) and what I've been told by news reporters and so-called specialists. Is it disturbing to watch and a sad example of where our world is at? Yes. Would any of us ever hose our kids down at a car wash?  No way in hell!

But what made my blood pressure rise was when today's "expert" suggested that there may have been pre-meditation for abuse because the mother already had a change of clothes for the child in the car.  HEL-LO!!!!  Does this expert have children? 

I don't know about you, but we've always kept a backpack with a spare change of clothes in the back of our cars.  Little kids, especially toddlers, can get really messy quite a few times in the course of a day. They have accidents while getting their diapers changed.  They have explosive poops that can cover a radius of 10 feet from the changing table. They love dripping chocolate ice cream down their dresses and pants, and pouring their sippy cups upside down in their laps. 

Little kids  play hard and get dirty.  They can't resist a mud puddle.  They sweat in warm weather. They run through sprinklers. 

Even though my kids are older, we still keep some spare clothes in the back -- for emergencies (a bump in the road can send a "big gulp" soda splashing all over the back seat), or for impromptu sleepovers at a friend's house. It's also come in handy to have some extra sweat shirts if temperatures drop.

Certainly this is a horrific case.  But when I watch the news I want the facts, not the sensationalism.  I don't want someone presented to me as an authority figure on a serious topic like child abuse only to have them suggest that spare clothes for a toddler in the trunk of a car suggests a planned attack. in a car wash  That's just too much of a stretch for me. Maybe there is other information known about the case that supports the comment made, but if so that was not made clear to listeners.

So the moral of the story is....if you keep spare clothes on hand in the back of your car, like most good parents do, have your car hand washed by the local cheerleading squad.  There are no surveillance cameras, you'll be donating money to a good cause, and you'll keep your name out of the news.

Lessons Learned From My Massage Therapists

I lay on the table today, very much ready for my deep tissue massage.  I decided to treat myself, using a gift certificate given to me for Christmas.  My husband was a few doors down, doing the same. My clothes were removed. I was under the sheet. I was ready.

I know most people prefer to stay quiet and relaxed during a massage. This is their time with no obligation to hold a conversation, come up with idle chit chat, or solve world hunger. They take it as a service for which they pay, tip, and let a professionals knead their bodies like a big wad of cookie dough.

I've only recently worked up the discipine to enjoy such silent bliss. I now walk in, mentally preparing myself against starting any banter. Thanks to my yoga practice, I've learned to concentrate on my breathing while enjoying a massage. I can send myself into a near meditational state -- unless the massage therapist goes extra deep into a double knot. Then I practice the art of suppressing a pain-wrenching scream with my face buried in the donut-shaped pillow.

But as I lay there today, silent, trying to think about breathing and to ignore the pummeling of her fists into my left trapezoid, I started to think about past spa visits.

I know it's a strange thing to reflect upon.  But, thanks to a wonderful career with some terrific travel to really great places, I've had the opportunity to treat myself to a massage at some of the best spas around: among them the Arizona Biltmore Spa in Phoenix, Windflower, the hill country spa at the Hyatt in San Antonio, the Madara Spa at the Atlantis. 

All of these places gave great massages. I never walked out not feeling like a new person, at least temporarily. But there are certain massages I remember more than others -- and it's not because of the golden silence, but because of the conversations I had with the massage therapists.

There was the therapist at the Hyatt Grand Cypress who was so careful with me when I was six months pregnant.  We talked about children, the joys of new motherhood, the fears of taking on the biggest responsibility of our lives. There was the pro at the Doral in Miami who shared many tips about small business ownership. She was a single mom working at the spa to cover benefits, but renting a small office space to build her own practice while studying for her master's degree. In our hour conversation she convinced me that you can have big dreams but put them together with smaller, easier-to-manage pieces, even if it takes all your strength to make them stick.

Years later I lay on the table and thought about these women and the conversations.  I remember each of them so clearly because they were strong women who, for the hour we were together, were confident enough to talk with a stranger about life, its ups and downs, its wonders and confusion. I realized that during the dialogue, I had taken with me a snippet here and there, and have used that knowledge in my own life.  Ways to take care of my body.  Ideas for business.  Confidence. Self-assurance.

I didn't take away any wisdom today.  I only walked away with sore muscles; maybe I should have requested the relaxation massage versus deep tissue. In any case, I stayed silent.  I focused on my breathing.  And I thought about the wisdom we collect in our travels -- women helping women, learning from each other, the bonds we build whether we converse in words, or silence.

Unexpected Visitors

The weekend surprise started with a phone call at 9 a.m. Friday morning.

"This is your daughter's fourth grade teacher.  Would you be able to take the class pets this weekend?"

The class pets are two hermit crabs, named Mo and Twix.  By a democratic process, the species of class pet had been voted on by the entire fourth grade class. They also collaborated on the choice of names.  Mo and Twix  moved into their new digs at school during the week, so we would officially be the first student home to host the pair for a weekend. This had been my daughter's wish all week, to be the first to take home the crabs.  We had filled out a form earlier noting which weekends we would be available; I wasn't quite sure this was one of them, as we were expecting around forty people at our home for my son's birthday party.

"Had we checked off this weekend?" I asked, caught somewhat off guard.

"Yes, you did," came the reply. "If you think you could do it...."

What the heck?  Just how hard could taking care of a pair of hermit crabs be anyhow?  Besides, I was sure Mo and Twix, whatever they did, would provide plenty of entertainment for the children who were coming over, and were much more cost effective than hiring that bug guy like we did a few years earlier.

I picked up the kids from school (crabs are NOT allowed to ride on the bus) and got the complete rundown on how to care for hermit crabs. We came home with a spritzer bottle filled with lukewarm water, a container filled with hermit crab food (yes, they really have their own nutritional supplements!), a small notebook with instructions and space to write down observations, and, of course, the aquarium with the little crustaceans cozily inside.

At first, we watched their shells just sit there.  I'm not quite sure what kind of action we were waiting for, but I did insist that we reach in and check them to make sure they were still alive. My biggest fear, of course, was that we were going to cause the crabs an early demise, or the cat was going to have a seafood dinner when we weren't looking. I was not prepared to deal with grief counseling over the weekend.

However, Mo and Twix turned out to be quite entertaining. Once they started moving, they were fascinating to watch. They would move shells, climb on the tiny log in the setting, snuggle together to sleep, and take a swim.  We watched Mo climb into the tiny scallop shell that served as the supper dish, and take tiny particles of food with his claw to eat. I swear Twix was checking out one of the larger shells as a potential new home for when she is ready to molt.

Putting the crabs on our hands, we sometimes felt their tiny pinches, which  tickled.  Twix, who was the least active of the two, seemed to come to life when on my hand. My voice had some sort of effect on her; she'd have to come out of her shell to take a peak. Mo preferred to stay undercover when on a hand, but showed his handsome features inside the aquarium.

Both were a hit at the party.  The little kids in the under six set loved the critters; the older kids thought they were "cool", much to my children's delight. They survived the noise and the lights going on and off.  We found out they loved it when we put on a CD and played music.  Both would move around their habitat in response to the rhythms.

Our hermit crab guests proved to be easy-to-host visitors. They brought along their own homes and food. They took little more than a couple of spritzes with the water bottle a day.  You couldn't overfeed them.  And they had personalities to boot.

Tomorrow Mo and Twix return to school and some other lucky student will get to enjoy them next weekend. We'll load them up in the car and take them to their real home, where they are sure to be welcomed by a classroom of children with lots of love to give.