BUY SMALLER AND LESS

With alarms sounding, it is time to buy smaller and less. Like so much of the American dream, the "bigger is better" house, car, more-of-everything mentality, has become an environmental and social nightmare.

We are a nation in which our wants far exceed our needs. Let our motto become "Less is More," or "Enough is Enough." For our children, grandchildren and future generations, our slumbering consciousness must awaken to this planetary emergency.

Being a child of relative poverty, I believed the American illusion that happiness followed obtaining my material wants. I took my turn with big houses, fancy cars and furnishings galore, but there I found no peace.

In Alex Wilson's book, Your Green Home, he discusses minimizing our environmental impact by building smaller, more space- and energy-efficient homes. He is right. We don't need large homes to store stuff we don't need. I grew tired of cleaning, heating and cooling mine.

Weighing in at 900 square feet, I now live in a 1926 greenly remodeled home. My air conditioning is often open windows and ceiling fans. I drive a hybrid vehicle and am within a short walk of all my shopping needs. I deeply enjoy the simplicity of my life. I hope you discover that less is more.

DOUG

On a rainy night in Kittery, Maine, Doug greeted his customers, with a warm and inviting smile, as they entered Ruby's Diner. Doug has a square, muscular build and is the father of six. Last year, after working for a company for fifteen years as a graphic designer, he and other colleagues with tenure and higher pay were laid-off. As he spoke, Doug's attitude was upbeat, and he had a positive outlook.

Doug was reared in Kittery. He spoke highly of his friends, many of whom he has known since childhood. When Doug lost his job, his friends surrounded him and his family with love and support. Two of Doug's friends own Ruby's, where he works as an assistant manager and waits tables. You couldn't ask for a more gracious host than Doug.

As Doug spoke of his and his family's economic belt tightening, he said that they had lots of things, but they were all old and paid for. Apparently, Doug and his family had always lived modestly but, with a diminished income, they lived even more creatively and frugally. One such measure was to raise chickens for eggs and meat.

On the up side of the economic downturn, Doug spoke of enjoying having more time to spend with his children, who enjoy fishing and outdoor activities.

For their summer vacation, the family drove "Hank the Tank," their 1984 RV, to Colorado. En route, the fan belt broke, and repairs entailed a costly tow. After that experience, Doug said he carried extra fan belts and could change one in fifteen minutes flat.

Radiating with love, Doug went on to extol the many virtues of his wife, a school teacher. He proudly stated that he and his wife had cleaned motel rooms that summer, and they had outworked the "kids."

"Kids don't know how to work today," said Doug. "They're always smoking, talking on the phone or texting."

As a footnote, Doug added, "If you're a hard worker you can always find a job."

As we say in Oklahoma, Doug hit the nail squarely on the proverbial head.

UPPER-STATE NEW YORK

Driving the lower tier, one sees rolling, tree-laden hills, lush, green fields with their accompanying barns, farm houses, hay bales, cattle and horses. The roadway is dotted with exits to quaint villages, full of unrecorded history, such as Cuba and Bath.

Cuba is known for its cheese production, and the Cuba Cheese Shoppe has free samples of that product, along with samples of other locally produced foods. With such tasty treats, you can't leave empty handed, so carry in your tote bags.

Bath's streets are lined with vintage churches, homes and business dwellings. Victorian homes abound with frilly flowers and lattice work of every description and color. My favorite home, on East Steuben Street, has a white-picket fence, yellow and orange trim and a yard that overflows with an array of flowers, including zinnias, marigolds, sunflowers and such.

Chat-a-Whyle eatery has resided on Bath's Liberty Street for 52 years and continues to provide its customers with a sense of family and good, home cooking.

Everywhere one looks in Bath, the young and the old can be found walking, on sidewalks shaded by towering, graceful trees. In this lovely village, walking is a way of life.

We, from the Midwest, only hear about New York City and often believe it is the sum and total of the state. Thankfully, that notion is far from the truth.

LAST NIGHT

On the road,
Truck stop,
Long, hot shower,
Oiled
Aching regions
With peppermint,
Nature's balm,
Then to bed,
In my backseat nest,
Eight hours later,
Ready to roll

COUNTRY

Old barns,
Do you ever wonder what they've seen?
Sweating men,
Broke-down tractors,
Women calling, "Supper,"
Kittens,
Children playing,
Chickens and eggs,
Hay,
Horses bedded,
Cows milked,
Colts born,
Calving,
All and more,
I suspect.

LOG CABIN

Saw log cabin,
Built with Tinker Toys,
Lived in real one,
In Alaska,
Hauled water,
For drinking and bathing,
Outhouse,
Wood stove for heat,
Summers, garden flourished,
Falls, picked wild blueberries and cranberries,
Watched for bears,
They like berries too.
Life,
Simple,
Peaceful and
Content

BRUNCH AT THE CAUSEWAY CAFE

Menu reads:
Good home cooking,
Breakfast all day,
Big fat biscuits,
Omelets with scallops, shrimp and grouper
Lunch,
Seafood, wrapped or sandwiched,
Gumbo,
Vegetable plates of okra, zucchini, fried-green tomatoes and more

Betty, wizened waitress,
Face tells she smoked too long.
"How big is a grouper," I asked?
"A red fish," she says. "He's a pretty big boy."
"She is too," I say.
Betty smiles.

Cat, short for Catherine,
High school senior,
Waiting tables,
Plans on college,
Maybe Wake Forest
Or, first,
A semester in Africa on mission trip.

"Africa's more fun," say I.
"College will always be there."

On exiting, feels like home.
"Be back later," I say.
Cat and Betty nod.

BACK TO BASICS

I grew up on a farm, where we lived off the land and raised cattle. At various times, I slopped hogs, fed chickens, gathered eggs, brought in the cows for milking and worked in the fields. I also helped my mother tend and harvest the garden and can or freeze its produce. As a teenager, I cooked the meals while the rest of the family baled hay.

Much later, I lived for five years in Alasha and spent time in the rugged Bush, where I was definitely back to basics. I lived in a log home with electricity, propane for cooking and a wood stove for heat. I had no indoor plumbing. Instead, I hauled water and had an outhouse for necessities. Believe me - at 20 below - I made quick night-relief runs. However, on my return trips, I often saw an aurora borealis.

In the Bush, warm clothes and food, shelter and a hot bath are premium commodities. With no plumbing, water was heated in a large pot on the stove, and bathing often consisted of a dishpan of hot water.

While in Alaska, my life was synchronized with the ebb and flow of the seasons.

During the sun-drenched summers, my garden abounded in cabbages, cauliflower, broccli, rhubarb and potatoes.

In the fall, I gathered wild blueberries and low-bush cranberries. Bears like berries. I kept a watchful eye.

Also, at this time of year, most Bush residents fish for salmon and hunt moose and bear. Being generous, they shared.

By winter, I had a full pantry and stockpile of wood. When the snow settled in, I sewed in my spare time and made quilts by hand. I was peaceful and content.

Alaska taught me that my needs are few. On my return to the Lower 48, I bought a farm and lived off the grid in my RV. On the farm, my main crops were brush and stray dogs. I kept hens for eggs and a rooster for his morning wake-up call. To avoid the dreaded laundromat, I often washed my clothes by hand and dried them on a clothesline.

During my first summer on the farm, I converted an old cow pen into a garden. The manure from the previous occupants worked its magic. The soil yielded an abundant growth of lettuce, onions, squash, green beans, peas and okra.

While in the Bush, I visited many delightfull simple homes built by their owners. I wanted to do the same on the farm. With hammer in hand, nail by nail and board by board, I did.

Simple ammenities are taken for granted in our society. We rush hither and yon in our quest for activities and possessions, living in the fantasy they will make us happy. However, the ancients taught that happiness could be found in the ordinary stuff of life.

In the United States, we have created an instant and disposable society that pollutes the Earth and squanders Her resources. We have invented a plastic and cellophane existence, with instant food, instant houses and instant messaging. By doing so, we deprive ourselves of the substance of life, such as preparing our food, building our homes and working with wood, metal and the soil. In this lifestyle of instant gratification, we are in disharmony with the Earth and estranged from Her healing and life-sustaining power.

A few years ago, I moved into the city. I now live in a small, greenly-remodeled, inner-city home, within walking distance of my shopping needs.

Last summer, I started an organic garden. The soil was enriched from my compost, and I added a special blend of organic fertilizer. I had a bountiful harvest of green beans, okra, beets, tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, cantelope and herbs. I canned green beans and froze herbs and other produce. I munched on them all winter and am now preparing for spring planting.

There is a wealth of information on green building, organic gardening, renewable energy sources and recycling. In or out of a recession, one person at a time, we can make a difference. By choosing to fulfill our basic needs, not our wants, each of us can help heal the planet.