







The last week or so has been a bit of a blur because of the wedding and all of the contingent details: family, friends, last minute things to do and trying to make sure that skinnyskinny had enough inventory so that everything could function while I'm away. Brian and I have begun our honeymoon in New Zealand, after a forever-long flight and the resulting jet-lag. Most of today has been spent just recovering and trying to sync-up with the locals. This is the view from our hotel room in Prince's Wharf in Auckland. Tomorrow, we will probably go to one of the farmer's markets nearby before heading inland to Togariro (sp?). The trip has been lovely so far and should only get better.

Yesterday, Katie (a phenomenal manager and all-around great person here at skinnyskinny) and I were in Philadelphia, taking part in the GoGreen Festival sponsored by Urban Outfitters (who own terrain and Anthropologie) at the Navy Yard. There were many other vendors there, all of whom were focused on environmental awareness in some way or other. As nice as the festival was, the best part for me was finding this bird's nest in a tree beside a parking lot. There were actually some little baby birds in the nest, which made this almost too cute for words.
Here at skinnyskinny, we are a proud, ethical and just company. One of the best ever, by the way. Anyway, some of you reading this blog may not realize just how much paperwork (and fees!) is involved in getting permission to use the various logos, like the logo of the little bunny that shows that a product is cruelty-free. It will cost $500 to license that the cute jumping bunny logo. We've always been cruelty-free and most of our products are completely vegan, too. Even with the best intentions, though, paperwork and filling-out forms seldom ranks high on my list of priorities. As a consequence, I've been inadvertently putting off the completion of the paperwork to prove skinnyskinny's compliance for more than a year. There are plenty of excuses, many of them good ones, but enough is enough. Easter has come a day late to skinnyskinny. So, to honor the fecundity of bunnies and the arrival of spring, I'm pledging to finally get this task finished this week. It will still take 2-3 weeks for our paperwork to be processed by Leaping Bunny, but be on the look-out for the leaping bunny logo on our site in the next few weeks.

My mom is not Ingrid Bergman, but photos that I've seen of my mom when she was younger have always reminded me of her. Seriously. I noted some of the differences on the photo above. Since all of the photos that I have of my mom are packed away, I figured that I could use that stock photo as a launching-off point. Actually, I should be more truthful: I do have 2 photos but they are of my mom after she had undergone chemotherapy and I think she'd kill me if I posted those.
What a thrill! Our Organic Soap Set (in a book box) gets a full-page feature in the May issue of O. What a lovely photo, too. This soap set already won the award for Best Green Packaging from the HBA-IPDA (Health and Beauty Association-International Product Design Awards). I'm beginning to think that we're on to something here.

I have a small collection (maybe 30 total) of cacti and succulents. They are all so beautiful, weird, and even a bit mysterious . Even after being poked enough times by the cacti that I should really wear protective gear, I still find myself surprised and a little bit hurt (emotionally and physically) when I misjudge the length of the cactus needles and get stuck yet again. The succulents on the other hand are so sensual and soft and full that for some reason, I exercise extreme restraint when dealing with them. Clearly I have my interactions with them backwards.
It's not intentional that my last few posts have been on the sentimental side of things, but whatever. Pretend that I am sitting on a rocking chair on a porch, my hair up in bun and glasses perched on the tip of my nose, while I relay another snippet from the good ol' days... Again, when I was a child growing-up on a farm in rural Tennessee...My dad tended our beehives. There were 4-5 of them out on the far side of the garden. My dad was terribly allergic to bees so there's a bit of absurdity at the extremes of my family's self-sufficiency. My dad would suit-up from head-to-tow in his protective gear and my memories of this are of something akin to Homer Simpson in a fall-out suit. Eventually, my dad would return with jars of honey and bits of the honeycomb. It was absolutely delicious and I still remember the occasional fright of finding a stray bee in one of the chambers of the honeycomb.
When I was little, I lived on a farm in rural Tennessee. I remember walking through fields of buttercups. Every so often, I'd bend down to pick one and add it to the little bouquet that I was gathering for my mom. This bunch is a few blocks away in a planter on the sidewalk. Not quite as nice as the fields, but the circuitous route to nostalgia was a nice journey this morning.
So, as I mentioned a couple of days ago, I've started reading Cradle to Cradle by William McDonough. In the introduction (I've gotten further than that), he writes that the Bedouin in Jordan used woven goat hair to make their tents. It's portable and easy to repair. It's renewable because goats always travel with the clans. When it rains, the fibers of the goat hair swell and keeps the water out. It seems so brilliant.

Mountaintop removal mining is a form of strip mining in which coal companies use explosives to blast as much as 800 to 1000 feet off the tops of mountains order to reach the coal seams that lie underneath. The resulting millions of tons of waste rock, dirt, and vegetation are then dumped into surrounding valleys, burying miles and miles of streams under piles of rubble hundreds of feet deep. Mountaintop removal mining harms not only aquatic ecosystems and water quality, but also destroys hundreds of acres of healthy forests and fish and wildlife habitat, including habitat of threatened and endangered species, when the tops of mountains are blasted away.
This practice also devastates Appalachian communities and cultures that have existed in these mountains for hundreds of years. Residents of the surrounding communities are threatened by rock slides, catastrophic floods, poisoned water supplies, constant blasting, destroyed property, and lost culture. As a result, many have been fighting the practice for years. Mountaintop removal mining takes place in many states in the Appalachian region, including West Virginia, Kentucky, southern Virginia, and eastern Tennessee.

The weekend is here. Yay! 

