I'm obsessed with all things Italian... the country, the food, the products, the language, and (sorry to be clich�, but I would be remiss not to mention) the men.
For past several years, I've been lucky enough to head to Italy at least once a year. I can get my "fix" - eating and drinking my way through piazzas and villa gardens, buying fantastic soaps and linens and clothes, and gazing at the works of art (which are often actually the people walking down the street in perfect clothing).

But this summer... well, this summer, I'm "Biting" my way through my days. Therefore, Italy is off-limits so that I can provide you all with nifty tips and great cocktail party facts each morning.

Instead of going through withdrawals and weeping over my long-lost love of all things Latin, I am taking solace in my garden, and doing everything I can to bring Italy to me (well, to bring the food, at the very least). To that end, I have three tomato plants growing (two heirlooms and one hybrid) and a great crop of basil flourishing. Come August, I plan to eat tomato salad, bruschetta and pasta sauce every morning, noon and night.

Now before you shake your head and say "well, that is all well and good for you since you have a garden," let me dissuade you from your illusions: all these plants are in containers on my rooftop. I live in a brownstone walkup in Brooklyn. I don't have a single inch of natural soil available to me. I am a haphazard, if enthusiastic gardener, and when I first started doing this, I had no idea if it would work. (It does). And if I can do it - you can, too.

I don't care if you have the best farmers' market in the world. Nothing beats the taste of a tomato that you just picked yourself. So - before it's too late - go to your local garden or hardware store. Buy some potting soil and a pot (preferably NOT terracotta - they dry out too fast - and preferably with at LEAST a 14" diameter and 14" depth). Go to your farmers' market or garden store (or check online) and buy a patio tomato plant. Come home, dump the soil in the container. Leave at least 3" of empty space between the top of the soil and the rim of the pot (for the water when you water each day). Replant the tomato. Water thoroughly. Stick it in a sunny spot outside. Make sure it gets a solid drink every day. Wait about 10 more weeks.

Eat.

Dream of piazzas and Paulos and limoncello.

Send me an email and let me know how it goes.

Remember when sunscreen of SPF 8 was HUGE? Those were still the days when Coppertone tanning OIL was the appliqu� of choice for most of my school friends. We lived to bake our skin, and then spent restless nights between cool sheets, tossing and turning on our burns, the smell of Noxema on and in our noses

So I left NY yesterday for a sun-filled week in Montana - a week that is going to be spent rafting and hiking and running around at mountains and lakes. As I was packing up my 45 SPF, I thought of how much times had changed. Today, instead of seeking low-SPF, I use as much and as high a number as I can.

But what on earth do they DO to those creams to make them that powerful? What kind of chemicals am I putting on my body in the name of healthiness? How on earth can it work that I can apply something and stay in the baking sun for 2 hours without getting burnt?

The answer to those questions is this: we don't want to know.

Several of the long-accepted chemicals in conventional sunscreen are being phased out these days, as more and more scientific evidence is surfacing that shows that these chemicals contain powerful free-radicals (thought to increase the risk of cancer), estrogenic properties (act like hormones and can disrupt basic sexual development), and resistance to detoxification (building up as stores in bodyfat). OK, that is about as fear-mongering as I can get. Anyway...

Honestly - I don't really like thinking about those things. Just like I don't like having to think about reapplying sunscreen every twenty minutes or wearing long-sleeve shirts when running around at the beach. Sure, maybe knowing is better for me in the long run, but let's keep it real - I'm going to run around in a bathing suit and soak up sun and get a little pink now and then, and I'm NOT going to wear hats or long-sleeves. So, I need some help. And I don't want to put up with big white stripes of titanium dioxide on my shoulders and nose.

So I bought some "natural" sunscreen a few weeks ago. It's not completely natural - still contains some chemicals. But it also contains a whole bunch of luscious antioxidant things and aloe vera, and it says it has ingredients that will keep my skin from aging in the sun.

Sounds good to me. For now.

Pygmy_goat I have always had “lawn envy” since I lived in cities most of life. Then I moved to Montana, and just got a place of my own. The previous owner (the sweetest guy in the world, Norm) did a lot to make the lawn pretty. Here I thought it was like some cosmic law - that when you have a house, grass will grow in front of it – but it turns out that is not the case. Norm worked like a dog to make the grass the gorgeous sight I inherited with the purchase.

So, when we did the deed transfer, he asked if I wanted to buy his lawn equipment. The riding lawn mower was a no-brainer, even though it didn’t come with a John Deer baseball cap. And then there were all these other things he sold : a backhoe, a tiller, a harrow, and… a ton of herbicide (gasp) to kill the raging knapweed, which infests more than 10,000 acres in Montana.

So, I am torn… knapweed invasion is associated with reductions in biodiversity, wildlife and livestock forage, and increased soil erosion. There are even nonprofits in the valley with the sole purpose of eradicating these noxious weeds. (I went to their WEED Festival… believe me – it wasn’t as fun as the name implies.) Anywhoo, I eventually did some research on natural removal of the stuff, and it turns out that knapweed is a plant that lives to flower and set seed. The plants will fight you every step of the way. In effect, everything I read just said "Good luck with natural options, this thing is a beast."

So, instead of introducing biological controls (ie: beetles and flies – bugs aren’t my thing) if Cricket doesn’t mind sharing the stage, I think I am going to get a goat. They have shown a propensity to graze vast amounts of noxious weeds, including the knapster. And one source told me that the droppings from goats do not spread the weeds or seeds - oh joy. Plus, they can be damn cute (the goats, not the droppings). One of my new neighbors just happens to be moving and looking for a home for her pygmy goat, so I might just add her to my menagerie.

So, wish me luck eradicating the baaaaaaad weeds. (Okay, that was a really baaaad joke).
Baaahhhaa bye (I just can’t stop!)– Jen

Tire_pressure The other day, when I arrived home from New York, I was shocked that I all of my luggage arrived, as did I, without event. But when I got to my car I realized that - of course it would not be that easy - I had a flat! As many times as I had watched my father change a tire, and even received lessons from him and a few boyfriends, I was now in a business suit, with lots of luggage, and I was hungry since the airlines think that small bags of lousy pretzel nutty things will suffice on three-hour flights.

It was then that I kicked myself - not the tires - for not having checked them since it was a slow leak caused the flat (it was a 14 day trip). Checking the PSI is such an easy thing to do, and I know all the stats about driving with your tires properly inflated, but here I stood, feeling a bit like a big sissy for not rolling up my sleeves and changing the tire, and feeling a bit stupid for not having checked the pressure more regularly.

As I waited for the Bozeman Sheriff's department or AAA to come to my rescue (I called both, it was really a matter of who came first . . . did I mention I was hungry?), I pondered the fact that tires are these beautiful yet awful things... they get you where you need to go, and don't ask for much. Yet, tires are one of those whacky inventions that will be here longer than cockroaches if we have an atomic blast... they just pile up. In the state of CA, some 33.5 million reusable and waste tires are generated each year. Someone once told me that a company invented tires that don't wear down, but then a big tire company bought them up and shut them down because that would have killed tire sales. That sounds a bit more conspiracy-theory than I generally believe... but who knows?

On a lighter note, it seems like more and more uses are being created for tires, like turning them into carpets, floor mats, irrigation pipe, lumber, office supplies and playground covers. I believe that the footing in the indoor arena where I ride has some recycled tire; it is nice footing except for when a horse urinates you have to sop it up, since tire particles aren't known for their absorbency. Anyway, point being, I am going to check my tires more often, so I can keep them longer, save on gas, and most importantly, not be stranded feeling like a dumb sissy.

-Off to look for the everlasting tire (Willy, you out there?) -
Jen

OK, so you ever have those rip-your-head-off days at work?

In one of my incarnations, I sit at a desk in a semi-corporate environment. I type a lot. Sit in aimless meetings a lot. Listen to whining a lot. And as some of you know, there are just some frustrations that can only be truly understood in that context. Playing in other careers, I can say categorically, that the office environment is a one-of-a-kind place when it comes to instilling overwhelming frustration. The kind where you work like crazy for months, and then in one fell swoop (or poorly timed email), everything you did comes crashing down and has to be redone.

That would be my day today.

So what does a girl do when faced with insurmountable re-working and a massive desire to do bodily harm to someone?

She eats chocolate.

Now, I've never been one to eat my stresses. If anything, I DON'T eat when truly stressed (which never helps said stress). But today, I had a bar of Green and Blacks Organic Chocolate in my desk drawer, and when corporate America came crashing down, well, Messrs Green and Black just called to me.

HAD being the operative word in that sentence, as I just ate the whole thing.

And somehow, it was magical. In the past hour, I�ve realized that - like Harry Potter facing down the dementors - chocolate actually helps alleviate work stress (if you aren�t freaky about the HP series like I am, there is a storyline in the book where eating chocolate helps cure the after effects of an attack by soul-sucking creatures. I digress...).

So � eat away. But stick with dark chocolate - it contains stuff (�stuff is a highly scientific term that I like to use often) that is good for your heart. And stick with organic options whenever possible. Honest to god, if you like dark chocolate, it doesn't get much better than Green and Blacks.

Where to find this magic potion for dementor-bashing office moments? Check out their web sites for more information and check at your local Whole Foods or TraderJoes for plenty of options:

http://www.greenandblacks.com/

http://www.dagobachocolate.com/

- Heather - Off to find some more G&B so that I don�t rip off my head and throw it at coworkers

So, I've been trying to drink green tea each day.

My voodoo witch doctor (everyone needs one - something I will explore, I'm sure, in later postings) tells me that the antioxidant properties in green tea will make me live a longer, happier, healthier life.

Truth is, I didn't really think much about that when he first told me, and god knows, I didn't start drinking tons of green tea. But then I read an article about how people who drink green tea lose weight more easily than those who don't, and viola! Green tea drinker is born. (Amazing how I won't do something that might keep me from having cancer, but tell me that I will be able to fit back into my leather pants, and I can't sign on fast enough... sad, sad, sad).

Needless to say, I've been drinking a bunch of green tea ever since. Still don't fit into the leather, but that's beside the point, really.

Anyway, a few years ago, the British government ran a series of public service announcements on television that were encouraging energy savings. And they included a tip that was so full of common-sense that - of course - I had never once thought of it:

Since then, I've taken it a step further, and have tried to keep the tea kettle sitting on the stove half full of water so that it is at room temperature when I crank it up to boil for my daily dose of green tea.

It's an astonishingly simple switch, but over time, those extra cups of water will add up.

So I'm a bit of a freak, really. I tend to be superstitious, and sometimes see signs in everything from a daily horoscope to the way the sunlight makes a pattern on my table (mainly these signs have to do with my love life, but sometimes they apply to other things). Lately, though, all of them seem to relate to this world of conscientious consumerism, and they seem to be dropping from the sky. (Or, in today's case, from an article in The Washington Post).

(The poor guys at the Post got scooped by Vanity Fair on their own Deep Throat story, and they retaliate with a story about milk... I digress...)

Organic Milk

ANYWAY - so there's an organic milk shortage, according to a story in today's Post.

Truth be told, if there were ever a story to encourage us all in our belief in our collctive power as consumers... well, this is it. Signs from on high (by way of the dairy aisle).

My mom grew up on a dairy farm in Montana. When people learn I'm from Montana, every so often, I still hear "So, did you get up every morning and milk the cows?" The person saying this then laughs and thinks they are hilarious. I tend to roll my eyes and try to come up with something witty in response, but most often, I just smirk and say "Oooooh. Never heard that one before..." (Sarcasm via the Web is seldom all that it should be).

But my mom on the other hand - well, she DID get up every morning and milk the cows. My life was spent having at least a tangential relationship to the world of dairy farming.

And therefore, all I could think, reading that article, is this: my grandpa - if he were still in the dairy business - being a shrewd business man, would be seriously considering a move to organic farming after reading that story today.

Consumer Cycles

Let's think about that chain of events: you go to the store and pay 30+% more for organic milk. So do 40,000 of your closest friends. There is a shortage as demand increases. Prices increase even more to meet the demand. Farmers see this and start to shift in order to supply more organics. Prices start to decrease as more and better farming methods are created as the sheer production increases, creating the holier-than-thou "economies of scale." More people start to buy organic, because it's no longer so ridiculously expensive... then more farmers start to...

You get the picture.

So - go give yourself a pat on the back. In the time it took you to read this (assuming you are still with me here!) ten new farmers just threw away their antibiotics and chemicals and started a move toward organics.

I'm telling you - your charge card at the grocery store is going to make a bigger difference in this world of ours than a lifetime of signed petitions. (Keep signing them, though)...

-Heather... off to find some black market organic milk since Jen and I will need it for coffee all week