Novica – Review and $75 Giveaway

Posted on April 1, 2014 by The Daring One

Do you remember when I became obsessed with only buying fair trade items?

Dan does. It was the year I told him exactly what I wanted for Mother’s Day but said I only wanted it if he could find it made of recycled glass by people in fair working conditions or previously-owned. He spent hours with the kids in an antique store finding me the perfect glass pitcher. I bought him a bathrobe and called the company to verify the working conditions of the textile workers. I wanted to know they had air conditioning, a fair wage.

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Yeah. We got tired and lazy and we just started buying stuff again, trying not to think about where it came from or how it was made. But I still think about it, a bit. It just takes work to know what you’re buying.

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That’s why I love Novica. It’s a website that partners with National Geographic to bring fair trade items from artisans around the world to consumers worldwide. Each of the items offered for sale comes with an artist bio and information about where and how it’s made. You can view these profiles online as you’re browsing and feel secure that you’re helping small businesses flourish, often in impoverished countries.

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Novica also partners with Kiva.org to provide microcredit loans to their artisans, allowing them to start or grow businesses, employ others, and preserve ancient artistic techniques. You can offer a zero interest loan to an artisan through their website.

To give me an experience to blog about, Novica offered me a $150 gift card, which I spent $75 of and I’m giving the other $75 to you.

There are a ton of great products to choose from. It took me days, and sadly, by the time I made my mind up, the item I wanted had sold. I’ll have to check back later. Stock varies from day to day as artists sell out and get back to work creating. So, if you find something you love, snatch it up right away. It’s a great way to buy gifts and feel good about what you’re purchasing.

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I went with this great Ica Traveler cotton handbag with leather accents. It is big enough without being enormous and has great organization with pen holders, cell phone pocket and two zipper pockets. It’s really pretty and well-made and I’m enjoying carrying it around.

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It came quickly, considering it made its journey all the way from the Andes in Peru. When I placed my order, the website was glitching so I called the number on the screen and they completed my purchase over the phone.

A few other items I like that are still there are:
Leather Wristband Bracelet
Family Love Elephant Necklace
Soapstone Candle Holders
Brown Leather Messenger Bag

They also have leather handbags, jewelry boxes, sterling silver necklaces, Mother’s Day gift suggestions, blue drinking glasses, and much more.

Leave a comment if you love shopping fair trade and want to do it for free. I’ll use a random number generator to choose a winner at 10pm PST on Thursday, April 3rd, 2014. Good luck!

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Posted in contests, poser in granolaville, Reviews, shopping | 39 Comments

Taking Matters Into Their Own Hands

Posted on March 19, 2014 by The Daring One

I was woken up at 5am last night-morning by Dan palming my face like a basketball he’d lost in a dark closet. His hand was flapping around on my face and I just finally said, “Stop. Stop. Seriously. What are you doing?”

The clock said 5:00am and I was super confused.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I was just getting back in bed and it’s dark in here and I was trying to find where you were.”

“By hitting me in the face?” I am grumpy like that when I’m awoken in the middle of the night-morning.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “I was trying to cuddle you and I thought you were facing the other way.”

“It’s okay, but why are the lights on downstairs?”

Laylee.

Laylee had gotten up and was downstairs fully dressed, eating cereal and reading a book. She’s become more and more of a morning person lately, setting her alarm and getting up before anyone else so she can have some alone time in the stillness before everyone starts running around throwing peanut butter sandwiches at each other and yelling, “YES, BUT DID YOU BRUSH YOUR TEETH?!!”

I get it. Sort of. If I weren’t so grouchy in the night-morning, I’d get up then too. But 5AM? Dan said he went down and she’d been up for a while. He told her she could stay up but we’d have a talk about when was an acceptable time to get up in the future. She’d fallen asleep the night before after 10pm, which meant she’d had less than 7 hours of sleep, which is not enough for an eleven-year-old. And in the day-morning she had a field trip planned with a lot of walking, followed by a band rehearsal and she would be exhausted.

And when she’s exhausted, she feels awful and when she feels awful, she is mean to me, because obviously everything is my fault. Because when she is tired, everything I do is suddenly jerkish with jerkishly rude motivations. I didn’t want her to be mean to me and I didn’t want her to feel awful all day, so I went downstairs and told her to go back to bed. Then I laid with her and stroked her back to get her to sleep again.

Tonight, we talked about appropriate waking hours. Let’s just say her alarm is no longer set for 4:30 AM. FOUR THIRTY AM, PEOPLE!!!

Laylee’s not the only child in this family who likes to take control of her own destiny while simultaneously blaming me for her problems.

I’ve been telling Wanda that I would frame her hot air balloon watercolor and hang it on our gallery wall for weeks now. I finally got the frame but it’s taken me a few days to actually put the picture in the frame.

Today she brought it to me like this:

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“You never did it so I put it in here myself. Can you hang it up for me?”

Sigh.

And as far as blaming goes, yesterday Wanda and I had the following conversation.

Wanda – Why are my bubbles empty?

Me – Because you left the open bottle lying on its side on the top shoe shelf and now my running shoe is full of bubble solution.

Wanda – But I wanted to USE those bubbles! I need them back.

Me – You can’t have them back. I am rinsing them out of my shoe.

Wanda – But those were my bubbles.

This is when I disengage. I’m not going to fight with Wanda about how I stole the bubbles that she poured into my shoes or with Laylee about how I could possibly be so mean as to ask her whether she’s practiced the piano.

Sometimes motherhood is about molding young people and other times it’s about choosing your battles. Sometimes it’s just about keeping a spare pair of running shoes in the garage.

Posted in blick, kid stuff, parenting | 1 Comment

Half-Hearted

Posted on March 18, 2014 by The Daring One

“Try your best. Invest yourself in everything you do. If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. But do you wanna know a secret? Some of my greatest successes in life have started with half-hearted attempts. True story.” [read more at HowDoesShe.com]

Posted in aspirations | Comments Off on Half-Hearted

Nocturnal Animals

Posted on March 17, 2014 by The Daring One

Wanda noticed the moon was up and the sun was going to sleep. She commented that she, quite similarly, goes to sleep at night. This fact is debatable. She goes upstairs at night. What happens there is mysterious, frequently loud, and in no way resembles slumber.

I told her that animals who stay up at night are called nocturnal.

“Like owls,” Laylee chimed in.

“Yeah,” I said, “And vampires… um… and bats.”

“Oh, yeah,” Wanda joined in. Because when my four-year-old hears “vampires,” she’s gonna be part of that jelly. “And skeletons. And zombies definitely. And wizards… mmmmaybe.”

Harry did spend an awful lot of time roaming the halls at night in that invisibility cloak. But… he was also awake enough to play quidditch. I’m on the fence about wizards too. We’ll have to ask Carl Linnaeus about that one.

Posted in kid stuff | Comments Off on Nocturnal Animals

Hello, Calgary!

Posted on March 16, 2014 by The Daring One

I was listening to NPR while I ran errands this weekend, when Ira Glass suddenly started talking about my hometown, the best hometown I know, Calgary, Alberta, Canada.

The opening segment of This American Life was about different cities’ failed attempts to build town pride through catchy jingles and slogans. Examples he gave were, “Say Nice Things about Detroit,” and “Baltimore – Charm City, USA.” He said that one city where a PR drive to boost city image and morale had actually worked was Calgary, Canada.

He went on to describe a song that was played repeatedly on Calgary TV stations in the 80s, a song that everyone knew and loved, a song that caught on and was a huge success at building hometown pride. I thought, “I grew up in Calgary in the 80s. I know of no such song.”

He interviewed a man who also grew up in Calgary at that time who said that he and all his friends loved the song and could still sing every single word. They would sing it together for fun. Weird. I had no recollection.

Then they played the song. About halfway through, I was overcome with childhood memories. HELLO, CALGARY! I started singing along at the top of my lungs. I could picture the video that went along with it. I knew every nuance of every run the singer belted out. “Makes no difference where I go. You’re the best hometown I know. Hello, Calgary. Hello Cal-ga-a-ry-y! Channels 2 & 7 lo-ove you-ou!”

At this point I was parked at the grocery store, too overcome with unexpected nostalgia to exit the vehicle.

Calgary was a darn stinkin’ great hometown. I was proud to be a Calgarian. The hay bales, the Calgary tower, the missed football catch. All of it came rushing back.

But, wait. There was more. Ira Glass told the man he was going to play him a song he’d probably never heard before. The music started. It was “Hello, Calgary.” But no. It was “Hello Milwaukee”! It was the exact same song but with the name Milwaukee in place of my beloved Calgary.

Apparently Milwaukee was the city it was originally written for. The Calgary version was just a knockoff. And it wasn’t the only one. I screamed, “NO!” out loud.

The guy being interviewed was audibly shocked. He said it was like finding out that the teddy bear you’d grown up loving was owned by 2 other people on the weekends.

Then the montage began. “There’s a feeling in the air that you can’t get anywhere except Pittsburg, Phoenix, Knoxville…” It went on and on. Ira said there were over 100 other cities with “Hello” as their theme song but Calgary was one place it really took off. I think it was this point in the show that I clamped both my hands over my mouth in disbelief. I noticed I was sitting like this when the segment ended, pried them off my face and went in to buy groceries. I’m sort of in shock and the song has not left my head for the last 36 hours.

The story went from shocking to hilarious when Ira Glass interviewed the composer who talked about how for each version of the song he would travel to the city, spend time there, meet the people and tailor it to their specific community. Ira said he could hear no more changes than the name of the city and one or two geographical details in the lyrics.

It’s like that scene from Pillow Talk where Doris Day discovers that Rock Hudson has “written” the same song for her that he’s “written” for every other girl he’s dated.

“There’s a feeling in the air that you can’t get anywhere except Calgary” and everywhere else. Ah, to turn on the radio on a Saturday afternoon and have your favorite talk show host smash a tiny piece of your childhood with a mallet, a strangely hilarious mallet.

Oh, Calgary. You may not have been the first, but I’ll always know that “Hello Insert City Name Here” was actually written for you. The truth is, there can’t be 100 “best home towns I know” and you’re the winner, hands down.

[Listen to the This American Life segment here.] It’s at the beginning of the hour and definitely worth the five minute investment.

Posted in around town, documentary, driving, video | 7 Comments

Oh Deer! Oh Gnome!

Posted on March 13, 2014 by The Daring One

Maybe it was Amelie.
Maybe it was southern summer nights.
Maybe it was me. Maybe it was you. But I sure love gno-omes.

Garden gnomes in animated films? Meh.

But real, serious, ceramic, wood or even resin garden gnomes. I love em. I’ve gotta have em in my life. But they have to be right. They have to be perfect. In short – I have only ever owned two gnomes. And not for lack of trying. I’ve tried to meet a good gnome everywhere. I’ve even considered looking for a match online. Maybe you found your gnome online and I don’t judge you. Lots of people do these days but I wanted to meet him face to face.

My first gnome came into my life my freshman year of college. My sister Meg introduced him as a birthday present and he lounged around my dorm and eventually, after Dan and I got married, he was relocated outdoors, where his sunbathing days have turned his blue towel teal and his red suit pink. He’s not the gnome he once was.

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So, for three years, I’ve been looking for a replacement or at the very least, a better-looking younger friend. Gnome 1 was no longer front porch material.

So every gift shop, garden department, and outdoor statuary store I visit, I get right up close to the gnomes, look into their eyes and try to sense a connection. Nothing. Frequently I spot the problem from several feet away. They’re standing or sitting awkwardly or doing a random activity like mixed martial arts or shooting craps or something and I think, I like my gnomes meek and sans gambling addiction.

Either that or I look into their eyes and they’re either painted on lopsided, or they are dead soulless voids. I like my gnomes mischievous, but just mischievous enough, not too much. More David Tennant than Martin Short.

So three weeks ago, I found him. At Fred Meyer in Kirkland, the gnome I’d been looking for peeked up from the book he was reading and screamed, “TAKE ME HOME!”

So I did.

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And I loved him. Past tense.

Because on Monday, as I was pulling into my long driveway at a probably legal, but possibly irresponsible speed, I almost hit a deer. I gave the deer a verbal fist shake. Most people hit deer on the highway. Can you imagine the sheer volume of moronity points I would earn for totaling my car in a deer collision… on my driveway? Of course I was enraged at the deer and all of his stupid friends. They poop on my lawn, nibble my fruit trees, terrorize my slugs, and eat the onions out of my ghetto swimming-pool-full-of-dirt garden, onions that were only planted because they’re supposed to be deer repellent.

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I was trying to regulate my near-miss rise in blood pressure by listing Bambi’s many flaws and misdeeds when I noticed a big pile of junk scattered across my front walk. What could it be?

I got out of the car and walked closer.

NO!

Yes.

Gnome shards.

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My brand new, highly literate, maxed-out-my-entire-yearly-gnome-budget GNOME WAS OBLITERATED. And the delinquent deer showed no remorse, no respect.

GIRRRRL!

I went off on those deer with the vengeance of a woman de-gnomed. Wanda was confused.

“Why are you mad at the deers?” She asked sweetly.

“They destroyed my dad gum ratchin’ fratchin’ gnome!”

“Nope. That was Magoo.”

“What?! No. Magoo would never do that to me. It was the deer. If Magoo had pipe-bombed my garden gnome, he would have had the decency to apologize. He would never have just left him there… like that.”

“I saw him. It was Magoo.”

“Oh, yeah? When did he do it?”

“Ummm… 8 o’clock,” she replied.

No way. No way Magoo would play me like that. Not my own flesh and blood.

So, I spent the afternoon searching the area around the porch for gnome shards and super-gluing them back together. He’s still missing chunks.

When Magoo got home, he admitted to knocking over the gnome and then walking away, like a cool guy from an explosion. What the hay?

I talked to Dan. He had watched Magoo lay waste to my dearest garden figurine friend and also walked away.

“But you could have called. Or texted. All day long, you were at work, knowing my beloved gnome was destroyed, knowing, I would come home and with no warning find a pile of gnome shards on my front porch, like a warning from The Garden Mafia. All day long you knew and you didn’t bother to warn me?”

“We were late. I’m sorry. I forgot.”

Sigh.

Seeing as we have no more gnome budget for the year and seeing as I love Magoo and Daniel more than I love a resin garden creature, I have chosen to forgive, but I send this plea out into the universe – FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS DECENT IN HUMANITY, IF YOU DETONATE SOMEONE’S GNOME ON YOUR WAY OUT THE DOOR TO PIANO LESSONS, COVER THE BODY OR AT THE VERY LEAST, SEND A TEXT OF CONFESSION.

Consider this a public service announcement. May no one ever. EVER. Come home to gnome shards again. You can make a difference. Be the change.

Posted in all about me, bambi's mom | 5 Comments