Simple ≠ Easy

I often refer to changing my lifestyle as "living a simpler life".  I wrote a discussion post for my Children's Literature class which included this mantra.  A fellow student upon reading it applied this definition to the word "simpler":

"Easily understood or done; presenting no difficulty"

She responded by saying that while we may want things in life to come easy, herself included, we  usually have to work hard to get them.  I was a little wounded at the way she had interpreted it and thus my character.  This was not at all what I had meant by the word simple.  I even felt roused enough to respond to her, clarifying what I had meant.  She probably never read it.  A friendly reminder that we must always use extreme care and clear intention when choosing our words.  What I was and am referring to is the other definition of simple:

"Plain, basic, or uncomplicated in form, nature or design; without much decoration or ornamentation".

It's with that distinction in mind that I write this post.

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Yesterday, as we arrived home from our bi-weekly trip to Sandy Hook Beach I emptied the mail box. Less out of habit than because I noticed it was overflowing with catalogs and flyers.  I have also noticed over the past two decades that this once miraculous, magical, mythical box tends to contain far fewer postcards from grandma and care packages from mom; and more direct mail marketing sent by a machine.  A lot more.   Long gone is the generation that conversed diligently via snail mail and collected stamps.  Long gone are the days of the Pony Express and Kevin Costner's The Postman.

This is the price of progress.

As I sat down at the kitchen table and waited for my husband to finish using the computer I decided to leaf through a Harriet Carter® catalog.  Harriet has allegedly been hawking "distinctive gifts since 1958."  I hadn't immediately chucked it in the trash like I usually do (insult to injury: magazine can't be recycled!) and I have to say I'm pretty glad I didn't because without Harriet I would have missed out on this much needed reminder of my own and even my daughter's role in our consumerist society.

One of the most astonishing, horrifying and enraging things about this particular catalog was that it was addressed to Chloe Ryan Jones.  My two year old daughter.  We've lived in this house for less than two months and it frightens me to even wonder how and when her FULL name became associated with this address and sold to the lowest bidder.  Fact: Direct mail costs less than half as much as regular "First Class" mail at $0.27 which includes design, print and postage.

Once inside Harriet's treasure trove of distinctiveness I found more than just entertainment and judgement.  I found some must have items.  Here are some things that I would probably buy given the right circumstances:

Who doesn't hate a soggy bottom?

 As an asthmatic and aspiring Herbalist I love this.  But, the reference to "smoker's cough"...really, Harriet?

Any woman who's had kids, or read Fifty Shades of Grey, knows what kegels are!  Though this looks a bit more conspicuous than the balls.  You're not wearing this puppy to meet Mr & Mrs Grey.

I just may need this wonder of reflective technology.  Only $5.98! SCORE.

However, if I ever felt the need to purchase any of these items I would fear the end is NIGH*:
*Except for the My Lil' Pie Maker.  What?  I like pie.

I certainly don't need to pay for farts.  My husband doles them out frequently, with pleasure, for free.

I hope to never feel that slicing a hot dog is either too difficult or time consuming.

Ahhh the joys of digitally rendered xmas songs coming out of the TP!  Now that's what I call Christmas.

I see what you did there, Harriet!  Placing the Easy Fit Buttons next to the My Lil' Pie Maker...
you clever, clever girl!

The most important lessons I can learn from Harriet are that somewhere out there is a person who thinks I am out of my mind for buying Fleece Lined Leggings...

...and also that simpler doesn't have to mean easier or more convenient but it can and for my purpose should mean more substance and less novelty.  In everything that I do.  Including Especially gift giving.  

The Big Apple and it's dirty, rotten, stinking core.

Soon after I had my daughter Chloe I realized that New York City was not, like I had previously thought, the place I was going to spend the rest of my life.  The Bright Lights of the Big City were dimmed by the haze of pollution, stench of garbage and overpriced everything.  I knew that we had to leave.

The view from my street corner...

Pretty soon I was playing out Doomsday scenarios in my head where we were trapped in Harlem and the only way to escape the city was by boat from the Hudson river because all bridges and tunnels had been blocked off by guys with machine guns and tanks and police officers wearing gas masks.  That may seem crazy and extremist (and it totally is), but that actually happened to me in NYC after 9/11.  Well, not the boat in the river, but the army dudes with machine guns and tanks and gas masks, all true.  We have an inflatable raft with three life vests (safety first) and nary an oar for just that reason.

We also have a "Bug-out Bag", which contains all of the necessary items one would need to survive the apocalypse in Washington Heights; a lantern, a tent, an "Official" Bear Grylls survivor kit, a propane burner (with two partially filled mini propane tanks because, duh, two is always better than one), and a hammock.

Looking back, this may have been a direct result of my husband forcing me to watch "Doomsday Preppers" on NatGeo with him.  Or possibly because I knew this girl, also a Prepper, who will be appearing on a spin-off show called "Pimp My Prep".  I couldn't make this shit up.  I mean seriously, she buys powdered milk and solar ovens and Potassium Iodide pills (she also has gas masks)...

She also had a ton of edible plants growing in her apartment.  Which was actually pretty awesome.  She had things I didn't even know you could grow indoors like a Kaffir lime tree and coffee plants (like 50 of them) and lemon grass.  Of course her apartment was maybe 400 square feet and the plants were all babies at the time so we'll see how that ends up working out for her.

Growing up in rural Massachusetts I was accustomed to country life, and even though I spent much of my youth trying to escape that life, I found myself running back towards it as fast as I could.  Which apparently isn’t very fast.  (Note to self:  Get back in shape.)

We took the first step by leaving Harlem and moving to the Jersey shore.  I know what you're thinking, and yes, we are only 20 minutes from Snooki and J-Wow's beach.  But, we're only 5 minutes from both Jon Bon Jovi and The Boss so I think they cancel each other out.  With my husband still working in midtown Manhattan our options for "rural living" within a reasonable commute are scant.  The urban sprawl of NYC spreading like vd on spring break. 

It was a first step though and we now have things like grass, trees, mosquitoes and free parking!  I could pass on the mosquitoes but life is rarely perfect and mosquitoes are much smaller than cockroaches.

Oh and that bit about the meeses bleeding out their ass and indestructible cockroaches...all true.