EcoHearth: Come Home to the Earth

When attending dinner parties with ‘others,’ that is, people with wealth and stature and gorgeousness (the latter possibly financed by their wealth and/or stature), I can only recommend The Nod. As a last-ditch option to suicide.

Shrill talk doesn’t work. Honest talk doesn’t work. Hiring Michelle Obama to stand in your stead might work, though I have no experience to this end.  I suggest The Nod. Read on…

When you work in non-profit venues—that is, something low-impact or even beneficial for the earth—it’s easy to get disillusioned, even bitter, with human nature. I know I do.

I mean, okay, some couples wake up and smile at one another and say, “Good morning, dearsexybearchocolate-toes! It’s a beautiful day! I feel great about the world! I feel great about me! And I feel great about you since you are great enough to be with me!” Read on…

I awake this morning, perfectly coiffed, made-up, smiling, well-rested, sun-yellow gown beautifully reflecting the light from the south window. I’m white-toothed, clear-skinned, gorgeous, dry in my crisp, ironed Pratesi sheets—in front of my roaring fireplace, casually observing the kindly, rustic goings-on beyond the filmy, white, sunlit, canopy curtains.

My happy, lovely, quintuplet housekeepers are playing harps as per usual—all singing to me how much they adore doing my shitwork. The cleaning, ironing, cooking, dog-poop picking-up and farming are done. Read on…

As a foster-dog parent, I’m often asked if I love all my fosters equally? The correct answer is yes. The real answer...Of course, not.

I respect all my fosters equally; give food, walks, love and treats equally; but my heart fuses with only a few. Just as in person-to-person love, interspecies love is an alchemy that has no recipe. There’s no common physical trait, age, breed, size or issue that seems to bind me to a certain dog. It’s often not an ‘instant’ love, either. Read on…

Spring has finally sprung. Bees are buzzing. Trees are blossoming. Butterflies are fornicating.

Everyone’s happy.

Except, I hope, the ticks that had planned on mating in their dead-quiet, bloated, tricky tick-like way, in the pastures around the Rancho de Chihuahua.

Now, I know, as a biotic egalitarian, I should love all creatures. I also know I should floss twice daily with unwaxed filament, wear a sun hat and not eat candy. But can I explain how much I hate ticks? Roughly equal to how much I love candy! If I’d flossed for every tick I’ve hated—boy would my teeth be happy! Read on…