Kena Landry

Another trick I'm really proud of is the "generation of socks" system.

Let's say my oldest needed a new size of socks: I'd buy at least twelve pairs in a single pattern. Next size over, I'd do the same trick with a different pattern/color. Only one color/pattern per age, and no duplicates in different sizes.

Not exactly fashionable (I tried to use fairly neutral patterns) but life is too short to try to match socks in slightly different sizes.

(now if I could convince my husband to buy a hundred pairs of identical black socks and use those for the rest of his life instead of very slightly different patterns every year...)

Matt McSpadden wrote:
One family I heard about, went so far as to pick colors for each child. Bobby was blue, Sarah was pink. Joe was green, and Ruth was purple (I'm making up the names, but you get the idea). And it didn't matter what it was. Dishes, towels, folders, pencils, coats, storage bins, blankets, etc. If it was that color, it belonged to that child. An interesting idea, but I don't know that I would have done it that way.

I only have two kids and we still do it that way to reduce mental load. Our youngest' name starts with J, so "jaune" (French for yellow) is  for her. Not for things that truly matter in terms of identity - I wouldn't dress her in yellow from head to toe - but for silly things like sandwich containers when I'm packing two slightly different lunches, or beach towels, toothbrushes, hair brushes... of if I'm marking the stack of passports with little adhesive dots when travelling. The trick helps with not having to figure what belongs to whom everytime, and reduces the need for communication with my spouse (e.g. I might be the one packing the mustard-less sandwich in a yellow container, but he will be putting the lunchboxes together).

We also initialized absolutely everything when they were small, and probably should do it more. Kids as young as two year old can recognize "their letter" (it's actually easier than recognizing a cat from a dog), and saying "this is mine" is very strong motivation for early literacy. Bins for putting drawings. Bins for putting their winter gear. Christmas gifts. Water bottles. Napkin rings (we use cloth napkins but we don't wash them every meal).

Maarten Smet wrote:Kim,

I have hard clay myself, so I understand the predicament. Not sure how hard your clay is, but daikon is not some miracle plant, if the clay is tough enough, it will not drill itself into the soil, but will stay in your top soil and just have a fat turnip type form.

I've witnessed daikon pierce through hard packed clay that I couldn't even push a pitchfork through (by jumping up and down on it). I would beg to differ and argue that it's nothing short of miraculous. BUT... In my case, the daikon had no top soil at all, so piercing through the clay was its only option. If it had been able to survive in a thin layer of topsoil, it probably wouldn't have broken through.

That's actually why we planted daikon in the first place: to break the hard clay and inject organic material before bringing in good soil + mulch on top, so that both layers could merge over time (as recommended by my favorite soil expert).

It's been two years and everything is thriving, so I suspect the strategy was sound, but I haven't dug back to the clay layer yet to check on progress.

I have extremely dry and sensitive skin so adding fat is a must: both to provide some barrier to environmental allergens (dust mites, pollen, and a bunch of others I can't really avoid) and to make up for what other people's bodies produce naturally.

My favorite lotion is some organic food-grade oil (grapeseed oil, olive or canola ) infused with calendula plus any herb that I have in my medicinal cupboard that is known for its skin properties (e.g. comfrey). I make those in Mason Jars, and use them generously for my face and body. Economical (so I won't scrounge), and I figure a short ingredient list of things I'd be willing to eat is a sound strategy.

I'll add beeswax (1 part for 5 parts of  oil) if I want to make it into a balm for chaffed hands, lips, elbows, feet (also a great diaper cream when I had kids in diapers).

Laurel Finch wrote: Probably the biggest gyp was the vaginal atrophy: just when you don't have to worry about getting pregnant, sex becomes painful.  These things make me conclude the God truly is a man.  However, this is balanced out by a total disinterest in sex anyway, which is a big relief in a lot of ways.

This reminds that I actually experienced that when breastfeeding, which can cause the same atrophy and thinning. Topical hormones actually worked really well for that, and just knowing it was hormonal in nature and temporary (it stopped with weaning) also helped. The second time over, I was confident enough that nothing was broken that patience, a good sense of humor and plenty of lubricant was enough to avoid the hormones (which stink and can interfere with latex-based contraception, so a bit annoying)

But I'd certainly consider that option again if necessary; I'm more comfortable with hormones doing their thing just in the part of the body that needs a little help rather than through the whole system, and I saw no side-effects.

A silly little idea, but I didn't think of it until I saw it in my mom's kitchen: a ceramic cookie jar makes for an aesthetic, air tight, easy to sanitize and perfectly sized countertop container for your scraps, and they are easily found at thrift stores.

(I come from a long line of permaculture-minded women and my mom has always composted, and still does even though she lives in a high rise building and composting requires walking five blocks to a community-managed compost bin.)

I think perimenopause is often a scapegoat for totally normal emotions in an insane world.

I've seen it couched in terms of the stages of a woman's life: in the "maiden" phase, we seek to fit in and find our place in society (and often a mate). In the "mother" phase, we're too busy raising little ones (or babying a big project, like a challenging early career, for those who choose not to become mothers) to challenge the statu quo and there's just no room for deeper introspection.  Plus, we're pumped full of hormones that help us tolerate a lot of hard things.

Then one gets to an age (which I've seen called the "queen") where one has one's ducks more or less in row, we've acquired enough wisdom and skills to be able to struggle less, our kids are getting to an age where they require less round-the-clock hands on care... and then the bullshit of it all hits us.

Things we shouldn't have tolerated in the first place, like useless partners or meaningless jobs now feel unbearable. Compromises we were making for the sake of being acceptable in someone else's gaze start feeling downright silly. A lot of anger at injustices bubbles up.

And then we're told it's all hormones, and we really need to fix that, because a wrathful middle aged woman who no longer gives a shit is a dangerous thing.

Now, I'm sure some women truly need hormone replacement therapy for health reasons. But I see so many women my age (mid-forties) juggling way too many responsibilities, getting way too little support, and wondering if menopause is to blame for how tired and angry they feel. The real question is "by what miracle were they not tired and angry before".

My personal experience is that perimenopause is currently treating me well as long as I don't fight it, and channel it into creative endeavours. Yes, there's hot flashes, hair sprouting everywhere and some weight gain. But there's also a lot of inner power and a good dose of "don't mess with me" energy I'm learning to wield.

My girls are going through puberty, and we understand that yes, there are discomforts, emotional outbursts and rebellions. But we don't pump young girls full of hormones just to keep them subdued and obedient; we know that's an important stage towards adulthood. I see menopause as the mirror of that transformation, and my gateway towards more wisdom.

More ideas for next year, because my family knows me well...

My husband gave me a book of love poems from a second-hand bookstore. And a new strainer for our sink (as a joke gift, but it was on my TODO list so also a sign that he sees my mental load and shares that burden.). I gave him nice linen bedsheets (which we needed, and is also a gift for me of course)

And my brother-in-law (who was my secret santa - another nice way of reducing overconsumption) gave me nice finishing salts from a local organic farm.

A couple of ideas from this year's gift list:

- a potted succulent in a vintage cup for a gift exchange (Drilled a hole in the bottom for drainage)

- converted my daughter's old playsilk into a pillowcase to help keep her hair untangled at night

- gave donations to charities in the person's name (involved my teenagers in choosing something that fits the person's values, and it's been very well received.)

- sewed scrunchies made from fabric scraps as stocking stuffers

- involved my kids in building a LEGO kit for their cousins from their own stash (part of which was *my* childhood stash). They created an awesome pirate boat.

My very permie mom gave me Darn Tough socks and a book from my childhood that was really important to me (from her own bookcase).

In addition to my local library, I also have access to a provincial-level library that offers complementary online resources, including all of O'Reilly's collection (lots of technical books).

Rarely do I need to stray from there. Anything that's not available online can generally be ordered through inter-library loans (very useful for small rural libraries!)

And don't forget that many libraries will buy books if you recommend them.