I hate waste. I take leftovers home and eat them. Dish/laundry/hand soap? Shampoo? I put a few teaspoons of water in the container, swoooosh it around and use the very end. I squeeze every last bit of toothpaste from the tube by folding the end over and securing with a binder clip.
But this was a new discovery that made me very happy.
After squeeeeeeezing out the last (or so I thought) bit of lotion from this sample size, I cut off the top top (or is it bottom) to see how much was left. I’m on my 4th application and there’s still some remaining. HM.
I MIGHT just buy this little doo-dad that I discovered while watching the television show Shark Tank. How do you thrift?
Once upon a time a
little girl I was meandering the streets of a big, cold-hearted town Kavanaugh Boulevard in the Heights neighborhood in Little Rock. I was despairing to the point of buying cookware at Walmart sad. My soon-to-be-launched reality show life wasn’t going as I thought it would. I stumbled, weeping, stepped into a little kitchen outfitting shop called Eggshells.
“HEY!” said a
friendly person Heather, smiling, behind the counter. “Mmmmmrt,” said the shop kitty Oliver as he ambled by.
Heather had no idea what those warm greetings brought to me that day. Did it change all the circumstances in my life? Nope. But it warmed the moment and gave me a little moment of happiness.
In the years that followed, in addition to a few All-Clad pots and pans, magnets, dishes, and local foodstuff, Eggshells brought to me an increased awareness of how vital locally-owned businesses are not a nice ‘extra’ to a community…they are the lifeblood of a community.
What you see in the store is only a fraction of what Heather “sold” — she offered her business savvy on many community projects, the effects of which continue to be enjoyed today. She also did many unseen things for people that touched them on a personal and organizational level. I hope that you’ll share your story in the comments.
OK. So. Fast forward several years (and purchases) later: the shop moved into a larger spot on the same street, Katie changed her life and herself to be happier, Heather kept on smiling and…well, Eggshells is now owned by another wonderful person because Heather and her partner have moved to North Carolina for new endeavors.
Enter another stellar household goods shop, DOMESTIC DOMESTIC. Heather has applied her community focus to the nation. Let’s support quality American products and the people who make them. I mean, really, how can a bar of name-brand soap compare to Duke Cannon’s Big Ass Brick soap? I wanna smell like productivity!
If Domestic Domestic is a fraction of the wonder that is Eggshells, well, I just may have to take a trip. Yeah, yeah, I could order from the website, but then I wouldn’t get to experience Heather’s warm greeting or feel Oliver brush against my leg.
NOTE: These opinions are my own. I have not received, nor will accept, any compensation from Eggshells or Domestic Domestic.
I love language. I love how it evolves. I’m not always a fan of its misuse according to traditional rules, but I think this is totes adorbs.
Wow. Yesterday’s post. Ugly. Visceral. Profane. I’m still surprised at how strong a reaction I had! I’m glad I let myself experience it, rather than push it away, but still….whooooooooeeeeeee that was ROUGH!
Today I am almost back to normal, whatever that means. I’m proud that I bounced back within 24 hours. In the past, I’d stay in my funk for days, weeks.
After posting yesterday, I emailed my mother to give her a heads up about a strongly worded post on my blog. Her response: “Love.”
Love. I love you. Now, you love you.
Many of you joined me right. where. I. was. Females AND males shared your deepest groanings, your moments of profane hatred, of lost joy, of self-loathing. And of putting those things aside to pursue peace. I was teary-eyed through the afternoon, touched by the transparency so many people offered to me.
Heather pointed me to a blog called “Dances With Fat,” and this line in one post caused another a-ha moment: If I ever had an acquaintance who treated me the way that I treated [me] I would never speak to them again.
I realized: oh my goodness. I abused myself yesterday. (this may have been clear to most everyone yesterday, but not me.) Self-hatred, self-loathing, profane statements about my body. As if it were the enemy. My body doesn’t make the news…it only reports it. It responds to what I’ve given it. Or not. What needs to change is not my body but what is inside. My spirit.
I’ve struggled with this my entire life. I probably will continue to do so. To expect otherwise is not to prepare for the onslaught that my demons will blindside me with.
Last night, I committed to exercising 4 times this week. I honored that commitment last night. I slept soundly, woke feeling refreshed but definitely with a vulnerability hangover
Will I have similar emotional meltdowns in the future? A-yep. Fortunately I’ve learned I won’t die because of them. But what I’d like to do is to minimize the self-abuse.
There are no shortcuts to physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual health. It’s damn hard work. And worth it.