Odds and Ends

The hubby went to the local pub last night for a drink with two of his mates. I say 'pub'; in fact it looks more like a crap youth club, all cavernous faux-wood vinyl walls, brightly-coloured plastic chairs, wobbly fold-up picnic tables and strip lighting, but he seems to like it, so whatever.

He got home to find me in a chipper mood. "You're awfully flirtatious," he said suspiciously. "What's up?" "I've decided not to write the blog tonight!" I replied gleefully - not because I don't love you all but because it was really nice to have Saturday night completely to myself and also because although I'd done lots of little incremental green things throughout the day, none of them seemed sufficiently groundbreaking to merit a post of their own.

As I've hit my green stride, more days seem to be like this. For example, I'd begun the morning with a homemade pampering session. I remembered my best mate Catherine telling me, back when she was a beauty editor, that the best exfoliant she knew of was sugar and olive oil, and since my gams were in serious need of a pre-holiday spruce up (after 9 months of pregnancy and six of motherhood, they aren't looking their spry-est) I retreated to the bathroom with the Filippo Berio Extra Virgin, Domino's granulated and some organic oats (to create a moisturizing soak) clutched to my chest. I ran a very shallow bath (it barely grazed my mid-bum) and hopped in. This was ambitious, and sure enough I'd barely got my hands all covered in gunk before squawks began emanating from the bedroom. I finished up as quick as I could, then propped Dot next to me as I approximated a bad homemade pedicure, which I'm sure saved water and I know saved money. Not sure it's quite Harbour Island material, though.

Later I did the composting, baked a cake and then set about trying to find eco-friendly alternatives to plastic baby spoons and sippy cups now Dot's no longer a boob-only girl. The Bowery Babes network came through for me as usual with tips on trying a wooden or ceramic baby spoon (so far I've found this spoon, which is lovely and which I will probably get) and SIGG sippy cups. This latter was dangerous because it introduced me to a site called reusablebags.com. Oh dear. I could spend a small fortune on this site. Instead I've restricted myself to a couple of cups for Dot and a larger bottle for me (to make an eco-statement when I get back to work), all made from guaranteed non-leaching materials.

So that was kind of it. I promise to try and find you some drama soon though.

"Now, where's my bottle of wine?" I asked the hubby.

"Oh. I didn't get you one," he said.

Charming. He gets to go to the pub; I stay home to put his first born to bed and what do I get in return? Nada. Not to mention what was the point of having a night off if I couldn't at least get a little bit merry?

"Maybe I'll write the blog after all..." I said. Then, when his face fell, "...or, you could make up for it by cooking the kohlrabi [which by this point had been sitting in the fridge for a week and was in danger of becoming better in the idea than the execution]. I found this Carluccio's recipe."

He agreed and got stuck in.

For the record, the organic kohlrabi from our local River Brook Farm (food miles approx 2, carbon footprint virtually zero) tasted a bit like turnip and "a lot like bamboo shoots", according to the hubby. Unfortunately he managed to serve me the bits that were rather woody, but overall the slightly oily, cuminy, terribly worthy mess was a success (more so than the mangel wurzles we bought from RBF in the autumn). I decided to stick to plan A.

Today, however, the hubby undid all his good work by going snowmobiling with a mate. Way to spew pollutants into the atmosphere for absolutely no material gain.

But his face when he got back was a picture. I suppose a boy's got to get out from under the green thumb every now and then.

The postman always delivers two parcels

We just had a very exciting visit from the postie - two parcels each with varying shades of green pressies for Dot inside.

First, this lovely Topshop babygro from Auntie Alice:

It's fairtrade cotton and very apt all round. I love that Topshop is at least sticking it's toe in the green water; if anyone can influence the high street and Britain's yoot it's good ole To Sho.

Secondly a gorgeous new sleeping bag from Grandma Jilly - thicker than the other one now winter is finally upon us, all homemade and Mum says to give it back when she's grown out of it so the wool can be unwound and used to knit something else. Good, eh?

As promised

Am trying to include pics every day. These are not especially exciting but Dot fans will appreciate nonetheless. In the first Dot looks a bit worried by the fact the garden's gone all white. Note the lovely cardi her granny knitted her (am sure homemade clothes are v. eco-friendly).


The second is Dot looking bonkers after her bath in her organic merino wool PJs (these can be found on one of my fave organic baby sites Nature Baby (full disclosure: it's in New Zealand so the air miles incurred almsot certainly negate the good done by buying organic wool clothes. But you'll have to let me off because I got the stuff before I knew about all this)). See? Bonkers. Bless her.

Happy Sunday

There have been complaints about a recent lack of Dot pictures so I'll try to post her daily. Here she is this morning - note the organic wool hat and bib, the charity shop trousers and er, the Zara cardi and pressie Ugg boots....

Also we recycled that sofa but putting a couple of throws over it. Nice, eh?

You see, I can justify anything if I try hard enough.

Boys, it's all about boobs today

Our friends have just announced they're expecting a baby and we're thrilled for them (no names here as I don't know who they've told and don't want to steal their thunder...) so I thought I'd take the opportunity to give them an insight into the sheer glamour of what lies ahead by sharing a few marital exchanges from today.

This afternoon, as we sat in candlelight in front of the fire, having just returned from a brisk walk through the chilly English fog, an omninous rumble came from the environs of Dot's nappy. I decided to change her in front of the fire to keep her little botty warm (it's finally got cold this week here in Blighty, after the papers were warning of swallows still flying around and something hatching which should have stayed put till spring. Global warming...). "Can you grab me one of the new [Moltrex biodegradable, purchased at the Organic Farm Shop] nappies, love?" I shouted upstairs to the hubby. "Really - you like these?" he said, waving one as he came down the stairs. "I prefer the white [Nature boy and girl, also biodegradable] ones - they look cleaner and don't have those stupid cartoons on the front." "Yes, but the Moltrex ones are more flexible and they don't have that hard panel which digs into her tummy," I replied. "Fair enough," he shrugged, handing me the nappy before wandering off.

Even more scintillating was this morning's discussion of breast pads. Some background: I've been worrying for some time that the reasons I'm avoiding regular disposable nappies (chemicals next to baby's skin and possibly entering bloodstream, chemicals in production, chemicals and non-biodegradable products in landfill) should really also extend to the breast pads I'm using (boys, I know this is hard for you to read, but to avoid multiple daily wet t-shirt incidents of entirely the wrong kind, breast pads are a neccessary, if deeply unsexy, accessory to breastfeeding (at least they are if you have squirty boobs like me)). The final straw came when, earlier this week, mere moments before Dot latched on, I found a couple of grains of the super-absorbent material had somehow leaked out of the pad onto my boob. I brushed them away, but who knows how much of the stuff she might already have imbibed, plus this also made me wonder if there weren't chemicals from the pads just generally all over my chest which she'd been gobbling up every day for the last nearly four months (I can't think about this too much more or I'll drive myself mad with guilt). So when I spotted some eco-friendly alternatives in the Organic Farm Shop (Natracare - plant cellulose instead of plastic covers, no chlorine, no super absorbents made from petro-chemicals, biodegradable) I grabbed them. This morning I told the hubby I'd bought them and was deeply relieved about it. "Ah but will they work?" he said, knowingly. "Why wouldn't they?" asked the mother in law, who happenned to walk in at that moment. "Well, she got leaky boobs with lots of the ones she tried," the hubby told her. "She's only found one type that works." (He's right, but actually so far the Natracare ones (www.natracare.com) really aren't bad, and the peace of mind I've been feeling whenever I feed Dot is worth a little dampness. I'm sticking with them, as long as I can find a supplier back home).

So, daddy to be, see what you have to look forward to? Forget Vogue shoots, Manhattan real estate and West Village eateries; soon you'll be conversant in the finer points of eco-friendly nappies and chlorine-free breast pads.

And let me tell you, you'll never look back. Not even for a minute.