Whole Larder Love » Grow. Gather. Hunt. Cook.

It seems that every time I go away somewhere far far away, something from the ‘disaster realm’ comes to visit my home. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind a bit of travel. But more often than not, something shit is waiting for me on my return. There’s not much I can do about it. The older and greyer I get, the more I learn to simply accept this reality as some sort of fate driven trickery.

A few days into my trip to talk at the Do Lectures in Wales we got a call from home. Initially it was reported that some sort of ‘weasel’ had attacked and killed a bunch of our chickens. We don’t have weasels in Australia, so I asked for a photo. Thats when we discovered that a ferret had got into the chook pen and done the killing. Where the ferret came from, I have no idea. It’s probably some kids hunting ferret that’s cunningly escaped from its cage, and ended up feeding on our chickens. What ever the case may be, we’re short most of our laying hens. There is nothing I can do about it now. The ferret was caught and disposed of. Now I have the task of locating some new productive hens.

The second piece of poo was brought to us with 100km hour winds that rushed up the valley to our hill. Last evening that wind roared with fierce menace, with destructive power so wicked that it flattened the north side of my poly tunnel. The entire structure has now been compromised, and will have to be pulled down and rebuilt. I obviously won’t rebuild using the same materials, but I will have to build with steel. It’s just far too windy at this property to use PVC conduit for the frame. Again it sucks. I invested that combination of time, money and effort into that build. It’s just one of those things you can’t do much about. Like my mate said, “pick yourself up, take a deep breath, dust yourself off and start all over again”.

I appreciated the advice but I hadn’t actually fallen over, and there isn’t much of a chance of being dusty this time of year, it’s winter. It’s wet, muddy, windy and bloody freezing. There was a day last week where we didn’t even see sunlight at all. Just cloud. And grey.

It’s the time of year when the house fire is lit every day. Without fail. It’s the time of year when I appreciate the days of work I put into building my cache of fire wood. And it’s the time of year that I look at my wood pile and wonder if I cut enough wood.

It’s the time of year when wool lined rubber boots are an everyday item. It’s the time of year when a good pair of warm wool socks is worth more than the muddy boots themselves.

It’s the time of year when carrots, celery and onions seem to get chopped every few days for stews, casseroles and soups. It’s the time of year I wonder if I planted enough carrots, onions and celery.

It’s the time of year when I find myself soaking beans overnight, to use in my chilli bean stew. It’s the time of year when I shell the last of the dried beans and pop them in jars for temporary storage until they’re eventually needed for a hearty bean brew. It’s the time of year I ask myself if I planted enough beans last summer.

It’s the time of year when I look the bleakness of winter dead in the eye and say ‘fuck you’. It’s when I cook with food I’ve grown back in spring or summer and eat like it’s still sunny outside. Like this mug of mushy broad bean, with mint lemon and goats cheese. It tasted like spring. And if I got close enough to the fire place and closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that it was a warm day with the sun warming my body.

Even though it can be emotionally, physically and mentally challenging, I do love winter. It’s the season that bests suites me. It’s challenging, difficult and miserable. We seem to have a lot in common.

 

 

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  • June 23, 2014 - 9:40 am

    Alacoque - We had pet ferrets as kids and they are escape artists. The only time we used ours for hunting was when we had rats getting into the chook yard and we sent the ferrets in and out they came with rats in their mouths one after the other. Bloody brilliant. Sorry to hear your experience with the ferrety fiend was less positive.

    I’m glad winter has arrived. It’s lovely to curl up in front of the fire and enjoy being safe and warm. Even better when you’re fed with food you’ve grown and prepared yourself. I’m loving my thick winter socks and I’m in a much warmer clime. Your boots look very well utilised. :) ReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 10:01 am

    Steve - When I build my poly tunel I used really thick pvc pipe, the stuff they use for the water mains here in the uk. It’s probably about 10cm in diameter.

    The pipe is so strong and think I can hang from it with no wood uprights and it will still keep it’s shape.

    It’s stood up to 4 years of abuse, any number of winter storms, the tunel itself is positioned in a very unsheleterd spot as well.ReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 10:03 am

    Lisa - Rohan, the good news is that the winter solstice is now officially behind us, and every day will get a little brighter and a little warmer from here on in. Chin up.ReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 10:25 am

    Judy - There is an old bloke out towards Haddon who sells chooks. The australorps we got off him are laying strong even while out Isa browns are off the lay. The same winds destroyed all the chook / toddler proofing I had done. Ho-him it’s never ending!ReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 10:54 am

    Edward - G’day Rohan,

    I’ve just about finished my 12 metre long 1 inch steel pipe poly tunnel frame. Just waiting on some clips to fasten the plastic. Your welcome to come and take a look for a different point of view.

    Cheers
    Ted of GlenlyonReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 11:25 am

    Helen W - Welcome back! how nice to ‘read’ your voice again. From here the days get longer :)

    All the best to you

    HelenReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 3:36 pm

    Robin - I fought and lost with PVC for two years before switching to steel. I never worry about the wind. Heavy snow isn’t a problem, just clean it up when the storm stops. Hail bounces off as long as the poly is tight. It’s nice to walk through three feet of snow and step into an above freezing tunnel full of greens. This too shall pass. I swear the challenges make our food taste better when we finally sit down to enjoy the meal.ReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 4:39 pm

    Steal Away North - We’re in the summer solstice frenzy right now: garden first, fish and firewood now, then deer season, then berries, and ducks until the rain and snow. Hard to believe it’ll be over and your world and our world will switch places (even though we wear rubber boots all year).

    Also need to find time to build a new marten-proof chicken house since they’ve figured a way into our old one. It’s more devastating than losing chickens because it seems to psychologically affect the survivors. They stop laying and lose their inquisitiveness. Serious bummer, man.ReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 4:57 pm

    isis - Such a wonderful post! I love how it both has spirit and peace. It almost makes me long for winter :) ReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 9:38 pm

    Erin Block - Loved this one, Rohan. So beautifully lived and written.ReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 11:06 pm

    Justine - Winter – challenging, difficult and miserable….. ha ha!ReplyCancel

  • June 23, 2014 - 11:36 pm

    Dad Berry - Shit happens.ReplyCancel

  • June 24, 2014 - 12:34 am

    Emma - Oh Rohan!
    I am about to go away to the States for 4 weeks and I know what you mean about the dread. Im worried something will happen to our chooks too, or that my brocolli and bean crops will die, or be eaten by bugs or

    Stupid bloody ferret.

    But as Dad Berry says above: shit does happen. And we need holidays, so best not let it get you down too muchReplyCancel

  • June 24, 2014 - 2:38 am

    Margaret | Destination Here&Now - Think of it as a journey towards becoming the third little pig ;) Feckin’ freezing in Bathurst atm too.ReplyCancel

  • June 25, 2014 - 12:14 pm

    Alice - So beautiful, yet so darn awful to hear of the harder times and bleakness of winter. Sorry, to hear of that hard work, gone and loss.

    Without a doubt though, the hard & sturdy seeds that both you & Kate are sewing within your girls and (your readers,) to achieve great things with the flow & ebb of life (that is nature,) will always remain strong. Ferret or no ferret. Hope you got yourselves a nice pair of gloves out of the deal!ReplyCancel

The evenings have become quite crisp. The dusk mist sneaks up from the valley to our hill, often leaving us in a blanket of moist air. Seasons are shifting. You can tell something is up. Ewes are birthing early lambs, field mushrooms are becoming hard to find, magpies are flying around with straw in their beaks and rabbits well, let’s just say they’re busy too. There are signs every where that winter is on it’s way.

Autumn is my most treasured season, I lament that she’s almost done for another year. I love it when she returns each year without fail. I’m so excited at the subtle hints of her return. Then like a rainbow she’s is gone as fast as she arrived. And now we have winter knocking vigerously at our door.

I feel the best prepared for this oncoming cold season than ever before. My larder is stocked with the basics. I have a deer, lamb and pork filled freezer. I have over a hundred bottles of passata, baskets of nuts, endless pumpkins, dried summer beans and just enough garlic. I have squirrelled away corn, peas and broad beans from the spring and summer harvest that we are just now starting to enjoy and eat.

Excited by cool weather and the return of camp fire cooking, I found myself stoking the coals of the fire pit in my veg garden. I set up my camp cooking tripod which I’ve carrying around with me since I was about 13. The large hanging frypan is perfect for cooking paella, and sure enough I had bubbling away a broad bean paella, with home made chorizo, home grown onions, garlic, parsley, passata and wild duck stock. It’s a beautiful paella, fresh and delicious. And not an ounce of seafood to be seen.

 

Sitting by the fire admiring my handy work in the garden, I couldn’t help but notice the new broad beans popping out of the ground. I planted them a week or so ago from seeds saved from the same crop I was cooking my dinner with. Here in the ground was the my future food. While I was eating the paella I enjoyed the feeling and comfort of the cyclic nature of nature. Seed gets planted, they germinate, they flower then fruit and finally get harvested. Eventually the next round of seed returns to the soil to continue the cycle. It’s a beautiful thing. Just wondrous when you take the time to think about it.

I’m currently preparing a new talk for this years lecture series. I’ve written about my own cyclic history, how I was raised on the land with nature, I then left for the city, lived a corporate life, then finally returned as the older version of me, to a life deeply embedded in nature. Just like the bean seeds, I can’t help but be cyclic.

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  • May 29, 2014 - 2:16 am

    Amelia - Thanks Rohan. I always enjoy your reading your words. I love changing with the seasons. It feels right once you tune into it. Happy Winter to you!ReplyCancel

  • May 29, 2014 - 2:19 am

    Melissa - Autumn is my favourite time of year too. We have also started camp fire cooking. Nothing taste quite so good as lamb in the camp oven!
    Looks like your all set for Winter:)ReplyCancel

  • May 29, 2014 - 2:32 am

    Grace - Always a pleasure to read what you’re up to Rohan. And wonderfully prepared for the cooler months ahead. Thanks.ReplyCancel

  • May 29, 2014 - 2:48 am

    Alacoque - It’s a wonderful slow rhythm, isn’t it. No matter what happens in our own little worlds the sun still rises and sets, the plants grow, things are born, and things return to the earth to start the cycle all over again. It’s very comforting.ReplyCancel

  • May 29, 2014 - 3:21 am

    Michelle - I love autumn. Just like the trees slough off their bark and leaves, I feel I do the same. It is all about preparation for mind, body and spirit.

    Loved your photos. And hoping you come to Canberra one of these days so I can hear you speak.ReplyCancel

  • May 29, 2014 - 4:07 am

    Cle-ann - smiley faceReplyCancel

  • May 29, 2014 - 10:21 pm

    Bec - Beautiful post. The changing of the seasons is something I really miss when I live in the city. Yeah, the weather’s cooling down, and some of the trees are losing their leaves but… but that’s it.

    I go home to Mum’s and it strikes me forcefully that Autumn is here. Winter is close.

    I can’t wait ’til this year is over and I can move back home.ReplyCancel

  • June 1, 2014 - 10:55 pm

    Louise - Another beautiful post, so cheering on a monday morning at work.

    Re wild mushrooms – We were lucky enough to spend easter up near Corryong. There is a pine forest just up the nariel creek road from colac colac. We turned in to give the dog a run. What a surprise – i have never seen so many wild mushrooms in my life – pine mushrooms and slippery jacks. We only took one bag full, sorry i didn’t go back to get some more. There maust have been thousands in there. Don’t know if the good folk of corryong are not into wild food, or whether it was a bumper year, but if that pine forest was closer to melbourne it would have been awash with foragers. Cna’t wait to go back and see next easter. I too have saved my broadbean seeds from last year and just planted them a few weeks back. Its a great feeling planting the seed you have grown and harvested. regardsReplyCancel

  • June 2, 2014 - 2:04 pm

    Ceire's Kitchen - I love this! Especially the idea of outdoor winter fire stories and warm bowls of food. Thanks for the inspiration.ReplyCancel

  • June 10, 2014 - 4:07 am

    Maia Irell - I like reading your blog!ReplyCancel

  • July 1, 2014 - 11:45 pm

    Dale Morgan - I know this cyclic thing too!
    I grew up in a little country town on the edge of the houses and played all day in the bush and the farmland. My Dad and brothers caught rabbits and fish and marron (big yabbies) from the country side. We kept chooks and ducks. And I climbed in my neighbours gardens up all the fruit and old ornamental trees. We grew up appreciating the slow life of the country and the bounty it offered us.
    As a young adult I went to the city to escape the ‘knowing everybodies business’ of the country. The anonymity was what I needed at that time and it was liberating.
    But as time passed I wanted the country life again but found I was stuck in the city and could not afford to go to the country, with work and mortgages.
    My first 25 years was in the country and the next 25 years in the city, I am now back in the country for the rest of my life.
    I have found the community here that was where I grew up and I appreciate it now. No I am over the moon to find it again, I thought it had died.
    So I know where you are Rohan and I know the calling and I know how wonderful it is to finally return and to know ‘home’.ReplyCancel

I’ve never done this before, but this article rang true so much that I just had to share it.

 By George Monbiot, published in the Guardian 11 December 2012

There’s nothing they need, nothing they don’t own already, nothing they even want. So you buy them a solar-powered waving queen; a belly button brush; a silver-plated ice cream tub holder; a “hilarious” inflatable zimmer frame; a confection of plastic and electronics called Terry the Swearing Turtle; or – and somehow I find this significant – a Scratch Off World wall map.

They seem amusing on the first day of Christmas, daft on the second, embarrassing on the third. By the twelfth they’re in landfill. For thirty seconds of dubious entertainment, or a hedonic stimulus that lasts no longer than a nicotine hit, we commission the use of materials whose impacts will ramify for generations.

Researching her film The Story of Stuff, Annie Leonard discovered that of the materials flowing through the consumer economy, only 1% remain in use six months after sale(1). Even the goods we might have expected to hold onto are soon condemned to destruction through either planned obsolescence (breaking quickly) or perceived obsolesence (becoming unfashionable).

But many of the products we buy, especially for Christmas, cannot become obsolescent. The term implies a loss of utility, but they had no utility in the first place. An electronic drum-machine t-shirt; a Darth Vader talking piggy bank; an ear-shaped i-phone case; an individual beer can chiller; an electronic wine breather; a sonic screwdriver remote control; bacon toothpaste; a dancing dog: no one is expected to use them, or even look at them, after Christmas Day. They are designed to elicit thanks, perhaps a snigger or two, and then be thrown away.

The fatuity of the products is matched by the profundity of the impacts. Rare materials, complex electronics, the energy needed for manufacture and transport are extracted and refined and combined into compounds of utter pointlessness. When you take account of the fossil fuels whose use we commission in other countries, manufacturing and consumption are responsible for more than half of our carbon dioxide production(2). We are screwing the planet to make solar-powered bath thermometers and desktop crazy golfers.

People in eastern Congo are massacred to facilitate smart phone upgrades of ever diminishing marginal utility(3). Forests are felled to make “personalised heart-shaped wooden cheese board sets”. Rivers are poisoned to manufacture talking fish. This is pathological consumption: a world-consuming epidemic of collective madness, rendered so normal by advertising and the media that we scarcely notice what has happened to us.

In 2007, the journalist Adam Welz records, 13 rhinos were killed by poachers in South Africa. This year, so far, 585 have been shot(4). No one is entirely sure why. But one answer is that very rich people in Vietnam are now sprinkling ground rhino horn on their food or snorting it like cocaine to display their wealth. It’s grotesque, but it scarcely differs from what almost everyone in industrialised nations is doing: trashing the living world through pointless consumption.

This boom has not happened by accident. Our lives have been corralled and shaped in order to encourage it. World trade rules force countries to participate in the festival of junk. Governments cut taxes, deregulate business, manipulate interest rates to stimulate spending. But seldom do the engineers of these policies stop and ask “spending on what?”. When every conceivable want and need has been met (among those who have disposable money), growth depends on selling the utterly useless. The solemnity of the state, its might and majesty, are harnessed to the task of delivering Terry the Swearing Turtle to our doors.

Grown men and women devote their lives to manufacturing and marketing this rubbish, and dissing the idea of living without it. “I always knit my gifts”, says a woman in a television ad for an electronics outlet. “Well you shouldn’t,” replies the narrator(5). An advertisement for Google’s latest tablet shows a father and son camping in the woods. Their enjoyment depends on the Nexus 7’s special features(6). The best things in life are free, but we’ve found a way of selling them to you.

The growth of inequality that has accompanied the consumer boom ensures that the rising economic tide no longer lifts all boats. In the US in 2010 a remarkable 93% of the growth in incomes accrued to the top 1% of the population(7). The old excuse, that we must trash the planet to help the poor, simply does not wash. For a few decades of extra enrichment for those who already possess more money than they know how to spend, the prospects of everyone else who will live on this earth are diminished.

So effectively have governments, the media and advertisers associated consumption with prosperity and happiness that to say these things is to expose yourself to opprobrium and ridicule. Witness last week’s Moral Maze programme, in which most of the panel lined up to decry the idea of consuming less, and to associate it, somehow, with authoritarianism(8). When the world goes mad, those who resist are denounced as lunatics.

Bake them a cake, write them a poem, give them a kiss, tell them a joke, but for god’s sake stop trashing the planet to tell someone you care. All it shows is that you don’t.

www.monbiot.com

1. http://www.storyofstuff.org/movies-all/story-of-stuff/

2. It’s 57%. See http://www.monbiot.com/2010/05/05/carbon-graveyard/

3. See the film Blood in the Mobile. http://bloodinthemobile.org/

4. http://e360.yale.edu/feature/the_dirty_war_against_africas_remaining_rhinos/2595/

5. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7VE2wlDkr8&list=UU25QbTq58EYBGf2_PDTqzFQ&index=9

6. http://www.ubergizmo.com/2012/07/commercial-for-googles-nexus-7-tablet-revealed/

7. Emmanuel Saez, 2nd March 2012. Striking it Richer: the Evolution of Top Incomes in the United States (Updated with 2009 and 2010 estimates). http://elsa.berkeley.edu/~saez/saez-UStopincomes-2010.pdf

8. http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01p424r

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  • May 15, 2014 - 2:00 am

    Deb - Thanks for reproducing this. A stark contrast to the growth at any cost mantra invoked by most politicians and media.ReplyCancel

  • May 15, 2014 - 2:04 am

    Michelle - I was kinda hoping for a happy ending.ReplyCancel

    • May 15, 2014 - 3:49 am

      rohan - Sorry hun. I don’t think there is any happy ending unfortunately.ReplyCancel

  • May 15, 2014 - 2:06 am

    Michelle - So disturbing and so true! Just like the recent ad for a mobile company encouraging us to ‘get that new phone feeling every year’ReplyCancel

  • May 15, 2014 - 3:16 am

    Ambra Sancin - Thanks for this. With Mother’s Day celebrated a few weeks ago, I’d like to add that to the never-ending list of “celebration” days that we’re encouraged to buy unwanted things for. Keeping Hallmark happy.ReplyCancel

  • May 15, 2014 - 4:34 am

    Alison - It was for this reason I stopped a Kris Kringle at our office. I just knew it would result in wasteful spending on stupid things nobody would want and be landfill.

    If I have to do it, I’m going to suggest people give each other something handmade and not bought, or something recycled.ReplyCancel

    • June 26, 2014 - 10:44 am

      tamara - I second that. I don’t even celebrate many of the holidays my coworkers wanted to spend for… and it was practically once a month. You’d spend your twelve dollars (a dollar per coworker) and once the swap was over, you’d return home with a bunch of cheap crap you didn’t want. Can’t stand it. I would just keep the crap in a box and give it back to everyone the following year/holiday. What a waste of everyone’s time, effort, money, space, environment.ReplyCancel

  • May 15, 2014 - 9:52 am

    Michelle - I read this article after Christmas last year – a Christmas where my nephews got SO MUCH stuff it was ridiculous. And it was just stuff. Plastic, non-recyclable stuff that left brains unstimulated and hands owed. I resolved then and there that every Christmas from now on would be hand made, or have good food hampers for the adults if they didn’t do handmade.

    I think the buck stops with us as consumers. If we don’t buy it, it might mean big companies pay attention. Well, one can hope :/

    In the meantime I will know where my gifts come from, what they are made of, and where it was grown or brewed. Good on you for reminding me of this article Rohan,ReplyCancel

    • May 18, 2014 - 10:16 am

      Emilia - Your mention of your nephews prompted me to get on the soapbox about the stuff people buy their kids…
      I see so many people justifying their compulsive consumerism by directing it toward their children, food, clothes, toys, cars, and on and on. They don’t need very much… and I truly believe that the idea the kids are expensive is a myth that has been deliberately manufactured by the marketers of the world. In my experience it is simply not true.
      I’m lucky that my husband is gently moralistic about this stuff, but it can be a challenge not to buy too much. I waste time browsing and buy rarely, working on wasting less time.ReplyCancel

  • May 15, 2014 - 9:54 am

    Chris - Thanks for posting this great article Rohan, though it unfortunately makes for incredibly depressing reading doesn’t it? I’ve just finished Monbiot’s book ‘Feral’ which I would definitely recommend too.ReplyCancel

  • May 15, 2014 - 11:33 am

    synjon - great post as always, regarding the rhino poaching you will find that the poaching as gone up in every area where sustainable hunting has been banned. This is due to the animals no longer having value to the common people and when they are starving they will do anything to survive.ReplyCancel

  • May 15, 2014 - 3:45 pm

    Marie - Gifts for the sake of gifts… such a hard problem to fight when no one around you notices or cares. It’s something I regularly struggle with, not just for holidays but even now as friends and family ask me what we need for our upcoming baby (which might be just as bad as the holidays as far as the amount of useless crap manufacturers try to sell you on)ReplyCancel

  • May 17, 2014 - 4:56 pm

    Riette - I couldn’t agree more. I’m a South African and it’s heartbreaking to see an entire species get slaughtered in order for pointless consumption. Well-written!ReplyCancel

  • May 18, 2014 - 3:17 am

    karin - Or, which we started a few years ago, give each other gifts through organizations such as Compassion. These are great, as you are actually giving items of need, such as lifestock, medical or education aid, to where it is truly needed!ReplyCancel

  • May 18, 2014 - 3:34 am

    settling in | motherwho - […] and dreaming and writing (elsewhere!). Reading things that make my path and decisions easier. Focussing on mindfulness in the day to day. Trying not to […]ReplyCancel

  • May 19, 2014 - 1:52 am

    Pathological consumption | quarteracrelifestyle - […] great article on Whole Larder Love I found really interesting and other’s might (Thinking of you Jess). Rowan has a great blog […]ReplyCancel

  • May 19, 2014 - 3:02 am

    Jessie - Yep, sounds like my extended family at Christmastime. My nephews have grandparents that due to divorce and new partners, vie against each other and my parents are trying to keep up with the Jonses too. Our kids each got a very small santa gift and an experience from us plus a home cooked and mostly home grown meal. No gluttony here but it was obscene at Nanna’s. Makes me so sad. Half their gifts were broken before even getting in the car and the kids weren’t happy even with all their new things.
    I read an article (which I can’t source, sorry) about a study done showing kids are happiest with 1 gift. They open it, play with it and enjoy it. When there is more than 1 they open, glance, discard and move on to the next. I can testify to the truth in this. My kids were happiest on Christmas Eve getting their piece of laminated paper with a picture of their outing than they were after the gluttony on Christmas Day.ReplyCancel

  • May 19, 2014 - 7:50 am

    Sandy - Thank you for sharing. :) An interesting read. Shame the article ends so miserably. I daresay there are individuals in consumer culture who would care if they were aware, but so many of us are so removed from the source of things that it doesn’t even occur as something to think about. Even though the article sounds pessimistic, I like to think persistent gentle educating can go a long way. :) ReplyCancel

  • May 19, 2014 - 5:26 pm

    narf7 - All I can say is thank GOODNESS my kids were all poor on Mother’s Day and bought me “themselves” and a stack of food for a Mother’s day Picnic. Now I don’t need to feel guilty about something that I wasn’t going to use…the food has all been processed and nothing was wasted. There are some benefits to being monetarily challenged apparently…ReplyCancel

  • May 19, 2014 - 9:54 pm

    Leigh-Ann - Thank you for this thought provoking article. I think we need to address the pressure felt in that we must buy gifts for everyone who has ever given us a gift. As many of us are time poor the easy fix of a novelty gift is a temptation some cannot resist.
    My friend’s grand daughter was lamenting the fact that she didn’t have present for Mother’s Day. She walked around the house carrying a box making kissing sounds. When she gave it to her Mum she told her it is a box of kisses and to keep the lid on so they don’t all fly out. If only we could all have the imagination to present such valuable gifts.ReplyCancel

  • May 21, 2014 - 8:49 pm

    Fernando - Can someone please provide me a reference on where the author got the. ‘Talking fish’ line from? Utter rubbish. I challenge you to prove rivers being poisoned to create ‘talking fish’.
    It astounds me people write articles these days and hardly ever, if at all, provide footnotes or referneces to support their claims.
    I was taught that unless you’re an expert or professional in the field you’re talking about, all claims must be substantiated with references. There is however evidence through other social media and the internet.
    I do not disagree with the overall point of this article, and I agree human consumption is ridicuclous on many fronts, but please back up your claims properly so at least we can research them further. Thank you.ReplyCancel

  • May 21, 2014 - 11:43 pm

    Erin / the rogue ginger - Somehow in the scheme of shaping us into lean mean purchasing machines the big corporations did away with empathy and how every purchase you make affects another human being in some form. Every action has a reaction somewhere on this planet.ReplyCancel

  • May 22, 2014 - 9:41 am

    Greg - I couldn’t not disagree more or less with this thesis.
    This may or may not mean I may or may not disagree with what is
    or may or may not being stated. Now that I have cleared up that matter I hope you all have an environmental friendly evening with your family.

    I think I will go into my room to get out my small plastic pink cricket bat with Imran’s signature copied onto it…..a fabulous Christmas present. Some people believe such consumer items are wasteful of the planet’s resources……

    What do you think ?????ReplyCancel

  • June 7, 2014 - 5:15 am

    Friday Faves; signs of summer | Living Simply Free - […] found this article through Wendy on Pathological Consumption which should be read by everyone before they go out to shop for another gift,  of course Wendy had […]ReplyCancel

  • June 7, 2014 - 10:11 am

    Link Tag: Climate Change, Eggs, & Baby Goats - Ever Growing Farm | Ever Growing Farm - […] Pathological Consumption Has become So Normalised That We Scarcely See It […]ReplyCancel