A gift of obstruction

On Saturday, I was supposed to drive to New Jersey, to a mathematics conference, and give a talk.

Then an unexpected snow blew in.  Not just any snow, but a snow that would close roads, cause power outages, and cause all sorts of unexpected devastation.  I called the organizers of the conference, and together we agreed my coming would be a really bad idea.  Even if I could travel the 150 miles there and 150 miles back safely, many conference goers wouldn't want to stay around in the evening to hear me talk about projective geometry -- getting safely home wins out over Desargues' Theorem, any day.  (Yes, even for math geeks).

In a sense, we were all devastated.  We've been planning this conference and this talk for months and months now.  All sorts of emails have gone back and forth, making sure that all the details were in place.

N-son wishes it to be known that he took this picture.

And in another sense, I think we were all relieved.  At my end, I all-of-a-sudden gained a day of "extra time".  I spent my Saturday on issues of deferred maintenance.  With N-son and K-daughter, I cleaned up our dining room.  My husband took J-son grocery shopping, and we restocked (really, over-stocked) our pantry.   I began patching holes in our walls. I wrote a report I'd promised to write.  I got in touch with people I'd lost contact with.  I got to listen to Prairie Home Companion, after all  (ahhhh).  None of this was hugely important.  But all of these tasks had been niggling at the corners of my mind, and I got to take care of them in an unexpectedly leisurely way.

I remember a columnist in our local newspaper, a woman who was chronicling her bout with breast cancer, describing how she had been looking forward to surgery as a time finally relax -- a time to get away from her other obligations.  She marveled at how over-scheduled her life must be to make her think this way.

This snow was my own version of disaster-as-peace.  For whatever it means, I'm glad that every once in a while nature intervenes and reminds me that I can't do it all.

Booting the budget

The irony of getting an email asking about used shoes right now . . . is that I bought new shoes this past weekend.

This summer, I forgot to search for snow boots for my sons.  I don't know how that slipped off my summer shopping list -- am I getting prematurely senile?  Saturday's early snow came, and the boys adventured out in their sneakers.  Both boys covered their feet in (first) socks, (second) plastic bags, and (third) shoes.  The plastic bags kept their socks dry; a temporary fix.  We all agreed this wasn't ideal.

Sunday morning I went "shopping" in the attic for their boots; that's when I discovered my oversight. Oh, drat drat drat.  I was so proud of getting all their clothes and shoes this summer for $30.  But I know they're going to need boots.  Can't wait until yard-sale season starts again.

We went to the so-called thrift store.  No boots at all there; other folks had beat me to it.

So we went to a retail store.  Curses.  I'd forgotten how many choices there are at a real store; that's both a blessing and a curse, really.  But we found boots that the boys fell in love with.  We checked to make sure the boots fit well.  I plunked down my $60 -- not all that bad, by normal standards, but it blows my clothing budget out of the water.

Or maybe, out of the snow.  Harrumph.

October Summary Advice

. . . and here's the October summary.

October 1	Make connections with friends and neighbors
October 3	Let your kids make their own mistakes.
October 4	Cook Zambian Squash for dinner.
October 5	Don't let stockpiling morph into clutter.
October 6	Try to give away 100 things (1 and 2).
October 7	Play the "left-over" lottery.
October 8	Waste money by feeding more kids.
October 10	Spend less on soap.
October 11	Wash your hands.
October 12	Use a plunger to unclog drains.
October 13	100 thing update (3 and 4).
October 14	Decorate kids' bedrooms with your own art.
October 15	Wait until next time, instead of impulse buying now.
October 17	Bring fruits and vegetables to fast-food restaurants.
October 18	A temporary appliance fix can buy time for a more permanent fix.
October 19	Reuse food in quiche or soup.
October 20	Donate blood.
October 21	Kids' actvities can be family unfriendly.
October 22	Make an earring holder.
October 24	Make a list of reasons to be disorganized.
October 25	Nip and tuck big pants.
October 26	Do preventative shopping to avoid expensive purchases.
October 27	People are more important than things.
October 28	Eat your food.
October 29 October 31	Pajamas and coats make great halloween costumes. Buy used shoes, if you dare.

More Used Shoes

A post I wrote back in August on "used shoes" got a lot of attention recently when a Montreal-based Craig's List linked to it.  One person (Frédéric Deslauriers) posted a lengthy and well-considered comment, and he asked if I could respond to several questions.  So here are his four questions (at least, as I distill them), and my answers.

1. Does history matter? (He writes, "It appears to me that such an issue as the use of hand-me-down shoes might have been around for so long that we forgot why it is we do things that way.")
2. Since absence of evidence (that used shoes cause damage) is not the same as evidence of absence, is there any existing research showing that used shoes do not endanger their wearers?
3. How do I respond to the risk of fungus?
4. How do I respond to the risk of structural problems?

Phew!  Here are my answers, imperfect though they may be, but I'll do my best.

1.  Have we just forgotten the reason we worried about used shoes?
It may well be that long ago, used shoes could cause foot problems.  But even if that were so, things have changed so much in the last century that those conditions no longer hold in the same way.

For one thing, shoes used to be so expensive that most people bought just one pair (or maybe two) and wore those exclusively.  Loretta Lynn famously sings in her "Coal Miner's Daughter",

"In the summer time, we didn't have shoes to wear. But in the wintertime, we'd all get a brand new pair." 

Loretta Lynn and even her wealthier contemporaries didn't need shoe organizers to help keep the floors of their closets neat:  they wore the same shoe over and over and over again.  But now when I go to yard sales, I see shoes that clearly get occasional use at best.  Some shoes (especially women's shoes) are still in their original box, never yet worn.  Even kids' shoes appear in such multitudes that you can tell some shoes hardly ever got to go outside and play.  An occasionally-worn shoe is different from an always-worn shoe.  When I buy used shoes, I go for the "gently worn" ones.

Similarly, my kids and I don't wear the same pair of shoes every day.  For what it's worth, none of us are in the situation of forcing our feet to conform to one pair of shoes day in and day out.  Even men who wear the same pair of leather shoes to work each day will often switch into a completely different kind of shoe for exercise, gardening, or other kind of intense foot activity.  That is another important difference compared to the past.

But another, huge factor is that shoe construction has changed dramatically.  Matthew Werd's "Athletic Footwear and Orthotics in Sports Medicine" notes that

Initially, marathon runners of the early Modern Olympic Games competed in heavy boots or shoes with leather uppers and soles, allowing for little plasticity.  With the increasing popularity of the running events, the Spalding Company addressed the need for running shoes among the public and advertised a high-cut, black leather shoe with a reinforced heel and a sole of gum rubber, but the outsole did not last long and further improvements needed to be made.

Can you imagine running a marathon in leather boots?  The lack of synthetic materials made shoes much less resilient, much less likely to adapt to a human foot.  Comparing modern used shoes to historical used shoes is like comparing apples and pine cones.  History has little to say about the kinds of shoes I see at a yard sale today.

2.  Is there any positive evidence (as opposed to absence of negative evidence) that used shoes are okay?
In recent years, there have been a few stories/studies coming out that cast doubt on the "need" for new, expensive shoes.  I'd love to be the cheerleader, but I don't know that this evidence is overwhelmingly convincing, at least not yet.  Just google "barefoot running" to learn more than you want to about why some people believe that any shoes are bad.  The barefoot running movement is controversial and I don't know enough to say whether it's on the right track or not.

Recently, a British study involving 43 volunteers found that inexpensive running shoes were actually better (in the sense of minmizing plantar pressure) than expensive shoes.   The researchers did not test used shoes, however.

3.  What about fungus?
Fungus is a problem caused by wet shoes (new or used).  Dry the shoes out, and you'll be fine.

I think "fungus" is one of those issues people bring up to give thrift a bad name.  Many, many people rent shoes at bowling alleys, ice-skating rinks, and roller-skating rinks.  When people PAY to wear shoes that many other people have worn recently, they don't worry about foot fungus.  When people SAVE MONEY by buying used shoes that one other person wore a while ago, all of a sudden there are health concerns.  Faugh.

4.  What about structural issues?
Quick:  Which shoe is more dangerous for me to wear?  A $2000 pair of Gucci boots, or a $1 pair of yard-sale boots?  A few years ago, I actually got to test this out myself.  I was featured in a New York Times Magazine fashion spread.  A team came down from New York City; it took about 8 people almost three hours to get me presentable and dolled up in a fashionable outfit, which included those  I-kid-you-not Gucci boots.

My make-up and hair people asked me several times if I wanted to take the boots off ("We're not going to shoot for a half-hour, and I know those are uncomfortable!").  Since I was sitting down and not standing, I just left them on.  But if I'd tried to walk around for any length of time, they would have hurt a lot.  Meanwhile, my low-heeled yard-sale boots fit fine and were easy to move around in.

The most important part of shoe wear is that the shoes fit comfortably and support you well.  For kids, make sure that there's at least a half-inch between the kid's toe and the shoe's toe, and toss shoes that have too much wear.  Gently used shoes can fit just as well as new shoes can.  In fact, if buying new shoes is so costly that you only do it once a year, then new shoes could wear so much, or your kids' feet could grow so much, that the new shoes would be worse than buying several cheap pairs of used shoes that fit properly.

Deslauriers notes toward the end of his comment:

Basically, I think we can say that it is definitely possible, with the use of good judgment, to find hand-me-down shoes that will do just fine. That being said, some people would rather not take that chance because the problems that could occur if a mistake is made are severe and could result in long term, irreversible consequences.

Millions of women wear high-heeled shoes, doing well-documented damage to their knees.  (I know it's bad for me, but I wear high-heeled shoes, too).  As before, I think it's worth asking: do you worry about risk when the shoes are cheap and ignore the same risk when the shoes are expensive?  If so, examining THAT attitude might be the best way to save both your money and your health.

Halloween costumes

My favorite halloween costumes for kids are the ones they want to wear, in one form or another, all year long.  When my daughter was young and she wanted to be a Disney Princess ( . . . wait:  she's graduated from college and she STILL wants to be a Disney Princess! . . . ) um, anyway, when she was young I found a sort of frilly yellow nightgown with an image of Belle or Ariel or someone on it.  Y'know, one of those Disney girls.  My daughter loved it and wore it for several years, at all times of day and night.

For several years I made fuzzy coats for my kids:  cat-shaped coats for my pre-school daughter; dinosaur-shaped coats for my toddler son.  Those were essentially free (I made them with scraps left over from other projects) but incredibly time-consuming to make.  But coats have the double advantage: not only can kids wear them all winter long, but on Halloween night, they don't have to cover up the coat with a coat to keep warm.  Princess pajamas suffer when they're topped with a parka.

Last year's ninja outfits for the boys have gotten lots and lots of happy use.  The only disadvantage is that if the boys get too quiet, I have to be careful walking by closets:  I could have ninjas jumping out at me.   This year, my dragon ninja will wear the same costume.  My spider ninja will magically transform into a vampire . . . perhaps his cape will keep him warm.

You don't have to like it . . .

Several years ago, I was in charge of making lunch for a bunch of kids, including the kids of one of my friends.  I began doling out all the food I'd prepared for their enjoyment/consumption, when my friend's daughter told me, "I don't like watermelon".

"That's okay, honey," I reassured her.  "You don't have to like it; you just have to eat it."  She looked at me quizzically for a moment, said "okay," and ate the watermelon.

We all thought that was hilarious (even that guest).  That phrase, "you don't have to like it; you just have to eat it!" has since become a sort of a catch phrase in our family. We've used that phrase with other guests occasionally, but we use it with each other more often.  Most recently, a 7-year-old friend declared he didn't like mushrooms.  I responded with our catch phrase, and he responded by doing a small double-take, deciding to eat the mushrooms, and then declaring that he liked them, after all.

I've heard people talk about throwing up after their parents forced them to eat a particularly detested food.  I'm not talking about that -- I'm not into sadism, I swear.  I also carefully avoid food allergies.  But I do very strongly believe that the food that I serve is good for my kids, and that they should eat this healthy food.  They don't have to like eating healthy food; they just have to eat it.  But the kicker is that, usually, they DO like it.  My sons have grown to be really proud of the fact that they eat a wide variety of foods.  They know it's something that sets them apart.

We're going slow with this mantra as we introduced our third son to our family last weekend.  He ate a lunch-time pizza faster than anyone else at the table.  But at dinner time, he picked and poked at his sweet potatoes -- a foreign food, as far as he was concerned.  He's going to learn to eat everything by the time he moves in, but I know that's hard to do at age 12.

Eating well has both financial and nutritional value.  If I'm really going to be able to feed three active teenage boys (plus our honorary daughter, plus my athletic husband and me) and not go broke on the food budget, I'm going to have to avoid expensive convenience foods.  We're going for lots of beans and potatoes, for in-season vegetables, for home-grown stuff.  And the boys are going to have to eat it, not just move it around the plate and ask for different food an hour later.

Kids might not like homework, but they should do homework.  They might not like getting exercise, but they should keep moving.  They might not like vegetables, but they should eat vegetables.  The difference between these three things is that hardly any kids learn to enjoy homework, but exercise and vegetables are things that all my kids have learned to love.

When our things own us

• Earlier this summer, I got to enjoy that all-American past-time: waiting at home for half-a-day for the repair guy to come look at our dishwasher.  
• I have a friend who just bought a new car.  She used to park her old beater-car on the street in front of her house, but now she's going out of her way to find new places to park the car because she's worried that this new one will be attractive to thieves.
• I know a guy who used to keep huge piles of newspaper all over his home.  He didn't like how messy the stacks of papers looked, but he couldn't throw them away because he'd paid for them but he hadn't read them yet.

I've become increasingly sensitive over the years to the way it's easy for us to become a slave to our possessions, to realize that our things can own us just as much as we own them.  I've been thinking about the whole possession thing a lot as we transition new highly active boys into our household.

A hole that my very strong
boys made "by accident".

There are so many ways in which I want to live in a home that has a certain "nice" look.  I've found myself aching for a new, not-scratched-up kitchen floor.  Instead, I'm patching holes from where the boys 'accidentally' wrenched something off the wall.

As our plates and forks and knives slowly break or disappear from normal wear and tear, I've fantasized about starting over with a new, matching dining set -- something tasteful, sturdy, yet elegant.  Then my husband and I discovered that the reason we seem to be missing soup spoons is because the boys had been sneaking peanut butter jars into their room at night, eating the whole jar with a spoon, and then tossing the evidence (both jar and spoon) in the trash.  Maybe tasteful and elegant have to wait a few years.

To do item this week:
patch the wall.

The kids aren't being malicious; they just love wrestling and eating.  We're working hard on teaching them to respect property, but we know that this is a learning process, especially for kids who have spent the first decade of their lives in a different home than ours.  Still, as we teach our children to respect property, we have to balance the needs of our children with the needs of the house -- the needs of people with the needs of things.

Someday I'm going to redo the kitchen, and it'll be gorgeous.  I really, really do want to live in a beautiful space.  But I know that if I have a gorgeous kitchen, I'd go ballistic/depressed/resentful if it got messed up or damaged.  So for now, I'll put my energy and love into the creative, energetic, stronger-than-they-realize children around me.  And I'll keep trying to live in a place that I own, a place that doesn't quite yet own me.