InvisiBox (tm)

Despite the undeniable charms of Freecycle -- what other online community brings Shriners right to your very own door?! -- I am a little uncomfortable with the way I've been giving things away thus far. Freecycle truly is free, and anyone with computer access can score (or give) stuff. So arguably, even if you don't own a computer, you could access Freecycle from a public terminal, like say the library, and get to getting and/or giving.

Realistically, however, if you are going to succeed at getting my stuff from Freecycle it helps to have your own computer, plus internet access, plus a car to get all the way the heck up to our neck of the woods. Thus the folks coming to claim our crap seem to be pretty much like us: reasonably affluent. So while I completely applaud Freecycle's mission of keeping usable goods out of the landfill, I would also like some of this stuff to go to people who, beyond being able to use it, might not be able to otherwise afford to buy it new (or even used -- don't get me started on the retailification of Goodwill).

In addition, we are actively trying to reduce our carbon footprint around here and the notion of daily round trips to our casa by sundry Freecyclers bugs me. It's like those extra miles driven to pick up our extra crap accrue to our own greenhouse emissions...I know, I know, these folks are saving stuff from the landfill, but virtually none of it would have gone into the landfill anyway, we would have found some appropriate new home. So I feel like the tradeoff is not even, saving landfill space vs. burning gasoline.

THis issue has been bugging me for awhile with no easy out, plus I have worn myself a steady Freecycle groove that has worked pretty well to move excess belongings from our home to people who want and/or need them. My friend Annelies just gave me a great option: her neighbor volunteers for a young parents support center, a place that helps fragile families keep it together. In addition to counseling and job placement and etc. they also have a clothing and baby gear bank and are happy to accept donations of just about anything a family could use. This woman lives nearby and can combine a carload of stuff from our house with her regular volunteer visit.

The only problem now is keeping the stuff we are getting rid of out of the clutches of my eldest son. He gets upset sometimes when toys go away, and tends to get into anything I am leaving by the front door awaiting Freecycle pickup no matter what the stuff may be. So I have cast upon the idea of the InvisiBox (tm): A giant computer box stashed in the studio, where Jack is not supposed to go anyway. I can fill the box with donations and then call the volunteer lady. A second major bonus is that I won't have to spend so much time managing the whole Freecycle experience. (The time saved from simmering resentment over no-shows alone should allow me to learn a second language or some other self improvement project! though I'll probably squander it on catching up on the Sunday New York Times)

So -- to the InvisiBox!

Day 33: Mini Shriner

So I DO remember where this little guy came from. I don't remember the specific date or anything, but it was from this fabulous DAV thrift store we used to call Sachs North Avenue. Why on earth I would spend 75 cents on a miniature ceramic Shriner-slash-candle holder is perhaps the more interesting issue. I do sort of have a Shriner thing, but that mainly involves going to see them drive their little teeny cars in parades. (OK, I do sort of lust to acquire a really good red velvet fez, the kind with the scimitar emblem on it. The fixation ends there, though, and doesn't involve any exotic role playing or anything. At least none I am admitting here. "Oh, Lord Grand Potentate, I have been a naughty girl..."). I certainly never extended my (entirely innocent!) passing interest in Shriners to collecting Shrinerabilia.

Which is maybe a good thing, because the one and only (but extremely enthusiastic) responder to this Freecycle offer mentioned that one reason he responded with such alacrity is that the Shriners don't like their objets d'art falling into civilian hands. Marc makes it his mission to reclaim Shriner artifacts whenever he can. I'm a little afraid what might happen if, say, a tasty betassled fez fell into your non-Shriner hands and you didn't promptly return it to the nearest temple. Bad things, man, bad things. Just hand over the mini Shriner figurine and nobody gets hurt.

Day 32: Fill-a-Bowl

Wait a minute! I think I've been had here. I gave this decorative fill-a-bowl to my mother for xmas a few years ago, how the heck did it end up back at my house? I swear, the more I stop to consider the origins of the stuff in our lives, the less I can identify the origins thereof.

I occasionally toy with the notion of inanimate objects having secret, mobile lives of their own; it seems to me that sometimes our belongings just take a hike. Go someplace new and start over. I actually put this superstition into practice whenever I can't find something that I know for a fact was *right here just a minute ago*. After unsuccessfully tearing the house apart looking for whichever object has simply vanished on me, I pause, say out loud, "OK, you win, I can't find you. Now please come out, wherever you are." I swear by this: more often than not, the object is found soon after, usually in some fantasticallly obvious place where it never, ever would have escaped finding during the house-tearing-apart search.

My guess is that sometimes our stuff gets tired of being taken for granted and goes walkabout to teach a little lesson...by acknowledging my powerlessness -- the saying out loud part is crucial -- I let the stuff win. So then it comes back and everybody's happy.

Just kidding. Sort of.