Co-operative buying
picture by NatalieMaynor
Our family have been co-operatively buying organic fruit, veg and groceries for six years now. People often ask me why we buy co-operatively.
Well, first of all, because it offers us more choice. Supermarkets control the supply of specified varieties of fruits and vegetables. It might seem like there is plenty of choice, but really, only a limited selection of what is available ends up in the supermarket fruit and veg section. If you prefer to buy organic fruit and vegetables the selection can be even more limited and produce may be of inferior quality. So buying directly from the distributor, or the fresh food market, or the farmer, gives us access to a greater variety of fresher, produce in season.
Second of all, co-operative buying offers less choice. The impulse to buy a packet of chocolate biscuits or a tub of Maggie Beer ice-cream is eliminated when you shop from a spreadsheet. Less choice keeps it short and simple. I can shop for my staples in the space of five minutes and be done with it until I collect my box a few days later.
We buy co-operatively with a network of like-minded friends. Not all friends participate in the same co-ops. Our most formal co-operative is structured as a not-for-profit association and supplies us with the majority of our fresh food, bread, dairy and packaged grocery items. We have a bank account and we use a roster system to manage the running of the co-op. Our co-op buys fortnightly and we take turns to gather and box up each others’ individual orders.
In the off week I buy our other groceries in bulk; things like toilet paper, cleaning products and the packaged breakfast cereals we’ve become addicted to.
On a quarterly basis, we open the co-op to a wider network to buy fresh organic flours, grains and spices, seeds for sprouting and assorted baking staples.
Through yet another network of friends, our family buys bulk organic meat, direct from the farmer.
It sounds complicated, and for those who love their conveniences, maybe it is. But to have a superior organic product for a cheaper price is worth it. There are other benefits too.
Our distributor complimented us saying that we’re one of the longest lasting co-operatives he’s known. Many co-operatives come and go. It can be hard for a group of people to come to consensus on decisions, and get along as well. How is that we’ve managed to exist for these past six years?
Keeping a co-operative together requires some strict rules, and quite a few bendy ones. It demands good communication of every member, and sometimes that can be hard to facilitate. It requires a sense of ownership and accountability. And it helps to be punctual and keep commitments. Goodness, why would anyone want to buy co-operatively if it requires so much personal investment?
Good question.
I find co-operative buying such a life-enriching way to shop. We’re not dependent on the major supermarket chains for our dietary choices, and we feel like we’re part of a community of people who care about where their food comes from. We’ve become familiar with each others’ families, watched each others’ children grow and shared some really good, and frustrating, times. In equal measure.
Maybe I secretly yearn for the village green, and a way of life that is more connected to the immediate environment. I don’t believe life is to be lived in isolation from my neighbours. Maybe this social way of buying fills a personal need that modern supermarkets, and their anonymous shoppers, can’t fulfil. And maybe it gives me that modicum of additional control over who gets my shopper dollar, and maybe I like having that power.
June 27th, 2010 - Posted in consumerism, community, sustainability, ritual, wisdom, friendship, money | | 0 Comments
Creative U-turns
picture by elventear
I’m coming to realise that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew this year by taking on the president role in the P&C. I knew it was self-sabotage when I volunteered and I knew I’d possibly regret it later, but I went ahead and did it anyway. Not that I don’t care about my kids’ school, because I passionately do, but school-related stuff officially gets to take priority over my own creative stuff now. Before that I had set myself goals and deadlines that I now know I’ll never meet because I keep bloody u-turning every time I find myself with regular time to write!
Uni is going great and I’m having a ball and if I didn’t have it for myself I think I’d have gone to pieces by now. I got a high-distinction and a distinction+ for my two creative pieces so far this year, which I’m really pleased with, but I’m not writing anything that isn’t for uni or school or social networking. Haven’t blogged in ages. I’m so sorry I lost momentum.
My creative energy is low, I realise, because it has been heavy-going the past month, physically, mentally and emotionally. It wasn’t just a month of personal travel and birthday parties (they were the highlights). It was also having a husband in bed for two weeks for a ligament in his back, my BIL away with family, so no extra help with the yard, uni assessment, taxi-ing the kids to sports, dance and other commitments, and somewhere in amongst all that, showing them some love because they aren’t seeing as much of their dad and me as they’re used to. The whole of the labour day long weekend we had our band friends recording in our garage. Fun, but demanding, and definitely not something I can contribute to in a satisfying way.
So I suppose I’ve let myself fall back to being a shadow artist, enabling others but holding myself back. I don’t know how to stop doing it.
May 8th, 2010 - Posted in personal growth, partnership, parenthood, duty of care, friendship, self-care | | 2 Comments
Sharing the load
picture by Jasmic
I still stand by the old adage that it takes a village to raise a child. I have great faith in the power of community living, and still believe it is necessary to put energy into building villages. Supportive, like-minded people just don’t appear in your life by magic.
So I was intrigued to read Cassie’s article on her new blog, Together Parenting. In particular, I loved her reference to a practice that I like to call housework swapping. This is something I have done and it is definitely a fast-track to more solid and reliable family friendships.
It helps immensely if your mother-community are relatively local and don’t have to travel far to arrive at your door. It is the locality issue, most of all, that hinders the development of an effortless back and forth of support between families. Which is why families in remote or regional areas often feel so isolated. Still, there are ways to connect with like-minded folks, though those ways will be unique to every community. The Australian Breastfeeding Association does a great job of networking mothers in urban Australia, but country mothers may find their options limited. Maybe there are community notice boards, or playgroups and mother’s groups in the area? Maybe there are special interest clubs to join, or maybe it’s a matter of placing an advertisement in the local free press. However might work, it’s fine to do. The biggest step is, of course, just doing it.
Once an initial connection is made, it is necessary to break the ice. Someone must be willing to play host to strangers in the first instance, but think of it this way: one small investment can pay dividends for years, and if you’re especially lucky, for the rest of your life. Do yourself a favour and make the first move. A family BBQ as Cassie suggests might be a great starting point. Don’t feel your house must be perfect to have guests come. They’ll be busy families too. And if they pass judgement on your first impression they’re obviously not ideal candidates for your village.
Regular get-togethers are a good idea, though I don’t believe it needs to be so formal as a regular day of the week, it can help get things off the ground in the early stages. Figure out your common interests and design your activities around them. Want to get out of the house with the kids? Fine. Want to knock a few tasks off your to do list? Great - but remember to return the favour. Want to stockpile meals for the freezer? Why not host a cook-in, plan the menu, pool the ingredients and send everyone home afterwards with a variety of meals they wouldn’t normally have ready-made in the freezer.
No need to bake before the gathering - do it together! There is no greater bonding exercise than the communal preparation of food. And the communal clean-up afterwards is more pleasant than being left with a sink full of dirty dishes as your happy house-guests leave your home - none the wiser to the extra stress they’ve caused you.
Housework and garden swapping are two of my favourite past-times. For some reason, I find washing someone else’s dishes, or vac’ing someone else’s floor much more enjoyable than doing my own. Or maybe it’s just having the company while doing it.
Here’s how it works:
Alternate hosts so that everyone gets the chance to have their house cleaned. Plan some activities for the children that require minimal supervision, such as sand-play or water-play in an outside area (bowls of water, cups and whisks and teapots - all those non-toys kids love so much). Guests can bring some of their own cleaning equipment if the host doesn’t have enough to go around. Task allocation can be done however the group pleases, but I have found it works best if the host does the more intimate stuff, such as cleaning her own toilets, while the guests do the generic windows, floors and walls. Over time, the barriers will break down. I assure you, you’ll all be cleaning out each other’s fridges and pantries and folding each other’s laundry in no time.
Most importantly, don’t force it. Do what works for the group without expecting too much of the time frame or the relationships. When it feels right, you’ll know it is right. Keep communication open among the group and don’t feel bad if some members fall away over time. The communal thing might excite you and me, but some people simply don’t know how to negotiate giving and receiving. That’s their loss. Not yours.
February 23rd, 2010 - Posted in gratitude, parenthood, community, duty of care, friendship, self-care | | 2 Comments
Back to school
picture by LittleMissSilly
We’re almost ready and it feels a little bit sad that the holidays are coming to an end. It wasn’t that long ago that the kids were all home with me every single day, all day and we could do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted, without answering to anyone.
Now the school bags lie bulging by the front door. The new school shoes wait in the cupboard. We’ve done the necessary haircuts and bought new lunchboxes. Even Miss Four will have childcare three days a week (I expect) and I’m not sure I’ll know what to do with my empty nest. I seriously doubt it will equate with a tidier house.
And they are ready - oh so ready - to begin a new term with their new books and pencil cases. Ready to say goodbye to Mum and the long holidays and reacquaint themselves with their school friends and their petty games. Ready for their new teachers too. The children inform me they wish to ride the bus this year, and if at all possible, do after school care activities with their friends. Ready and willing! Am I able?
Why should I sign them up for after school care when I’m home every afternoon to meet them and make them afternoon tea? Don’t they love me anymore? Don’t they appreciate the effort it takes for me to have them ready for school? I’ll be back to the slog of washing uniforms and packing lunches and nagging about homework and trying to fit a meal between taxi-ing everyone to their extra-curricular activities. I’ll be returning to the morning rush, the ringing phone, the lost shoe or sock (singular - they never disappear in pairs, have you noticed?). Am I ready for this?
Despite the mess and the fights and the declarations of boredom, I love having my kids home for the holidays. I miss them when they’re at school. I wonder if they miss me.
January 20th, 2010 - Posted in personal growth, childhood, nostalgia, community, duty of care, friendship | | 1 Comments
The ties that bind
picture by quasimondo
Bo-nen-kai is the usual end of year gathering for all Japanese - whether it be with their work-mates, fellow students or friends - rather the same as we do here. It’s not traditionally a Xmas gathering, as Xmas isn’t celebrated in the buddhist and shinto religious traditions. But there are still trees and lights and baubles galore, because the Japanese love gift-giving, and so, they have adopted Xmas into their culture - and their traditional New Year cards are somehow ‘christmasified’ to acknowledge the festive season.
I’ll admit, I rarely do Xmas cards, and I tend to be a bit ‘bah humbug’ when it comes to receiving them, too. But the card that always raises a smile from this Scrooge is the one that, without fail, has arrived from Tokyo every Xmas/New Year for the past twelve years from my class at the U-Port adult education centre where I taught for two years. I am truly touched and, I confess, surprised that so many of them still gather for bonenkai every year and to sign a newsy greeting card especially for me.
How lovely to learn that Itsuyo’s daughter just got married! I remember how I used to tutor him and his wife every Saturday and share a Japanese lunch, often something I’d never tasted before. Back then his daughter was a ballet dancing high school student.
Shigemi, in the past year, has travelled to China twice, as well as Canada, Germany, Indonesia - a new travel record for him (must be work related).
Sayo, the seasoned traveller, goes somewhere challenging every year - this time to the Ukraine.
Hiroko, who speaks fluent French, asks about my life in the country and Shizuko, who is a new mother, is probably too busy for English lessons now. But for having been their teacher for two short years, the remarkable connection remains.
In fact, Shizuko and her friends (and husband to be) were in Australia for their Millenium Party, when I was pregnant with my first baby, now almost ten. And we met again when she came back to Australia to study glass blowing at The Jam Factory in Adelaide, and, complete with her Blue Bear costume, she helped my husband and I celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. By then the baby in my belly was a toddler with a baby sister to boot.
I know I simply must go back to Tokyo and visit them, and it’s looking like I may have an opportunity in April next year, around my fortieth birthday. It will have been ten years since I was last in Japan and I’m looking forward to it like a child looks forward to Xmas. It’s so wonderful to know my old U-Port class will come out and visit me then. I can’t wait to see them and thank them for all the smiles and wonderful memories they’ve given me from a humble Xmas card.
December 23rd, 2009 - Posted in gratitude, happiness, nostalgia, community, ritual, love, friendship | | 0 Comments
