Philanthropy Thursday - And it's About Shoes!

As we edge further away from the holidays, I think it's even more important to give some time and thought to those in need. Especially given the abysmal state of our economy both at home and abroad, I know that even though I, too, am feeling the pinch at the grocery store and the gas station, at least I can still feed my family and fuel my car. Hell, at least I even have a car. There but for the grace of God go I - especially these days.



When I was talking to Sarah the other day, you know - my shoe whore best friend - she told me about a charity that just needs to be talked about. It's Soles 4 Souls.

Did you know that over 300 million children around the world have never had a pair of shoes? Ever? That women in other countries routinely walk 50 miles a day to retrieve their daily water with nothing on their feet? Have you thought about victims of the Asian Tsunami, Hurricanes Katrina or Rita and what they might do to protect their feet after their homes and even loved ones had been washed away? Soles 4 Souls knows this - and they also know how many unworn shoes are sitting around in the average American's closet. I'm not even "addicted" to shoes, but I can guarantee that if I took stock of our home's shoe situation, I could easily box up a dozen pairs of shoes for children, women and even men.

As I think about the global economy, and people all over the world who go without the most basic necessities while I have a closet stuffed with my heart's desires, I feel compelled to act. I hope you do, too.

Today I am boxing up our shoes. You can do it, too. Summer is coming - and we all know that for most of us that means cute summer sandals. Even if it's just a cute pair from Payless - why not clear out your closet and make room for the new, while taking your gently worn shoes (or new if you're feeling really generous!) and sending them to Soles 4 Souls.

Philanthropy Thursday - Second Call For Entries!

I saw a commercial last night that featured several listless teenagers milling about in an alley. The voiceover said, "This town almost built a community center. Don't almost give. Give." It was by the Ad Counsel.

With that, how many of you are still planning on submitting a man, any man in the hot steamy throes of housecleaning for the....

Hot Men of Housework 2009 Calendar

All of the net proceeds will benefit the New Orleans Habitat for Humanity - and my goal is to at least triple the amount raised here last year for them. We can do it!

I have entries already, and there is time, but think about the benefits here:

*Funny/Hot/Silly (it doesn't matter) pictures of guys doing a bang up job around the house

*It goes to charity.

p.s. to the troll commenter - BRAG ALERT: I wasn't going to feature my husband in the calendar, but now I decided he'll be Mr. September, wearing a small frilly apron. I want to showcase his enormous member, which will be covered in gold bullion, with our bank statements plastered across his ripe, lucious bottom.

Philanthropy Thursday

It's been a while since I've had a Philanthropy Thursday, and I have found something that is the perfect reason to bring it back.

Haiti.

Have you been reading the news banners online about the Haitains who have to eat dirt on a consistent basis to fill their stomachs? Did you know these people have to buy dirt cookies? Here is a good article to start with.

What surprised me the most was the limits I encountered when trying to find organizations you could visit to help Haitians in need. I found two, and the second one showed pictures of Brad and Angelina in Haiti, wearing the aid organization's t-shirts, so I figured it was legit.

How sad is that? Brangelina is the reason I knew it was real? Is there anyone else out there who knows of outlets for us to help these people?

It is truly atrocious.

Today I am going to savor every non-dirt bite that goes into my mouth and thank God for the fact that I have so much I have to cut back what I eat. I wonder how many Haitians my kitchen could feed right now.

Philanthropy Thursday Holding

I am going to have to take a break from anything serious for the month of November. NaNoBloPoMo isn't breaking me, it's NaNoWriMo that's snapping me like a twig. Like a dry, brittle stick that can't get over a plot twist and move past 12,000 words. My back is literally aching with hours of writing each day. The dog hair accumulating in the corners of the wood floors is astounding; I am considering knitting a sweater from all the animal hair that collects in my home during November and raffling it off.

I was going to write today about politics and getting involved locally no matter your affiliation, but, I'm. Just. Out. Of. Thoughts. If you have any, any at all, please give me some of yours today. I beg of you.

Later today, I will post some pictures after I get them developed from the instant camera we used on Sunday. The entire family came out to our town's mock Democratic Convention and supported our candidate and learned a little something about the process of nominating a Presidential candidate. A lot of people in this small town assume that Bob is a staunch conservative, probably because he wears a suit? I don't know. People assume we both are, actually, and I suppose it's the large family thing...I have to think about that one when I have more than one functioning dendrite.

Anyway, a woman who works with my husband watched him pull into the hospital parking lot the other day and her mouth literally fell open as he stepped out of his battered Volvo. She said nothing, but pointed at his bumper (which had a sticker affixed) and then looked at him and screeched, "Hillary??"

I have pics of the whole fam decked out in Hillary buttons and t-shirts as we worked to support her last weekend. Come on back if you'd like and see the men in my life supporting Hillary Clinton for President.

Philanthropy Thursday

Okay, how many of you have kids that have sugar hangovers and the beginnings of head colds from canvassing neighborhoods all evening last night? Yeah, me, too.

Today I'm copping out and not doing a "real" P.T. post. Instead, I am officially decreeing today at my house "G.A.T.B." Day. That's right, today is officially Give a Teen a Break Day at casa Get in the Car.

Last night I shadowed thirteen seventh graders as they ate pizza then hit up forty-two blocks for confections. They were awesome. They weren't out of control, they stayed together, and everyone was genuinely kind to everyone else. You could have knocked me over with a Twix bar. And, I laid eyes on the boy my daughter has a crush on. In a case of mistaken identity, I had assumed her Jake was this skateboarding boy who looks like he's been a latch-key kid since he was three. This Jake, well, he's a sweet kid. My heart can rest a little easier for the time being. Double bonus, his parents are amazing, and he shook my hand when he met me. NOT that this means Maddie can date before she's seventeen. It just means I approve of her crush and told her so. Does that jinx things?

Last night, as I supervised the twelve and thirteen year-olds my husband was across town running after Jacob, Chloe, and friends while pushing Jack in the stroller. He came home and pronounced the kindergarten through fifth grade set total maniacs. Apparently it is easier herding a bunch of feral cats than keeping sugar-starved young ones in a cohesive group. Who knew my night would be easier?

Hope everyone is detoxing from the evening's festivities.

Philanthropy Thursday

Oy. I'm pissed.

I've said before that I love jewelry, and I do. I really love it. Most especially, I've always been a little overfond of that carbon deliciousness known as the diamond. The first time I saw the Hope Diamond at the Smithsonian? I left a puddle of drool. It also happened to coincide with a traveling DeBeers exhibit, so the bling factor left me feeling a little breathless. A lot of women I know feel similarly afflicted when confronted with a beautiful diamond. I have a girlfriend who wears, steady yourself ladies, FIVE perfect carats in her ears (yeah, they're real and they are beyond fabulous). I feel like a crow whenever I talk to her; my eyes are always following the glint of her enormous studs as she moves her head. She is constantly being stopped by women and asked about her jewelry.

I have a beautiful wedding ring, too. Seriously, this ring is a stunner. And if I were to be perfectly honest with you, I don't just love it because of the way it looks. The dirty secret most women don't cop to, but I will, is that I also like my ring because of the statement it imparts. It's pathetic, but true. My ring says that my man has spending power. It announces our socio-economic status. It implies things about my marriage, true or not. "Ooh! Your man must want to keep you around, sugar," is my favorite, told to me at the Atlanta Zoo years ago by a woman who looked at my left hand in admiration at the panda exhibit. I used to thrive off of this, epecially in my twenties. And if most women were honest, they would admit that they want a big diamond or like their own big ring for reasons other than the sparkle. I get really tired of people who say they want a three carat ring because they like shiny things. Many, many substances are shiny. But few have the status of the diamond. Isn't status what the diamond is really all about? I have a $40 green peridot ring set in silver that is unique and glints marvelously in the sunlight. Does it rate the same response as my diamonds? Hell, no. I used to love the response my diamonds would elicit. Now, it just kind of makes me sick. I often leave the house with just a simple band, or none at all. Carting four kids around is statement enough of my commitment and status of "taken."

Then, a few nights ago, I finally did something I have been avoiding for months. I saw Blood Diamond.

Game over, folks.

Have you seen it? Are you, like I was, afraid to see it because of the brutal reality it depicts about the diamond trade? Are you afraid it will change your mind about your own ring? You're right. It will. I was numb after this movie. I have lived in my own bubble of what I wanted to know about where my stones may have come from, and the horror millions of people have endured because of a shiny stone. I spent the rest of the night willing myself not to throw up. I got up and researched online, and was amazed at the discrepancy between how the diamond industry spins the issue of conflict stones, and the reality of the millions of deaths, tortures, imprisonments and wars raged over this jewel.

I called the 800 number of the major jeweler that supplied us my own diamond. They happen to have a policy stating their compliance with the Kimberly Process, a start in the right direction to keep conflict stones out of the market. It's not foolproof, and it has only been in effect since 2003. My ring was purchased well before then, and even if it wasn't, they do not offer a guarantee that their diamonds are conflict-free. Very few places do, and when you can find a guaranteed conflict-free certified stone, (often out of Canada) it is more expensive. Watchdog groups like Amnesty International and Global Witness estimate that roughly 20% of the diamonds out there are conflict. There is no way of knowing. Like laundered money, it's hard to track a smuggled commodity. And like any trade dealing in the billions of dollars, not everyone is going to do the right thing.

My moral dilemma has been this: what to do about my own diamond jewelry. Sell it? Give it away? Keep it but stop wearing it? Throw it out?

Sadly, and I really am sad about this, I feel clear in my heart that I cannot wear diamonds anymore. It's not worth the risk that maybe someone died because of my own ring. And even if my own jewelry came from a conflict free zone, diamonds represent one true thing: millions of them come from places stained with blood. I do not buy into the bullshit line that states the diamond industry in Africa helps fuel the economy and provide health care for its workers. At less than a dollar a day in wages, in dangerous and filthy conditions, it's an insult to anyone's intelligence to accept this weak attempt at justification. I do not want to be a part of anything that funds wars, that is responsible for so much tragedy, and that paints me as a sheep who wants to be like everyone else. I just can't. I believe it is possible to live a life, live it well, and not contribute to the downfall of this world. Do I drive a car? Yes. Am I aware of the wars fueled by oil? You bet. And we're working right now on changing how and what our family consumes for survival. Stay tuned.

My decision is easy, although I know that it may be different for others. I won't wear them, and I won't keep them. My husband and I have found a private jeweler willing to buy my rings and I have chosen a simple, but truly lovely replacement. In case you're looking for something unique, I found my ring at the Sundance catalogue online. I spent less than $100 and I felt something I didn't anticipate: pride. I'm proud that I am at a place in my life where I care less and less what others think of me. I am proud that I want my accomplishments and personality to scream louder than the glint of my wedding band.

Think about it.

Philanthropy Thursday

More than 6,000 children lose a parent to AIDS every day.

That's pretty astounding, isn't it. That means in less than two weeks, more children in Africa lose a parent to AIDS than there are people in my town.

I used to think that I would have to wait until my own children were grown or older, before we could do any significant work in Africa. Bob and I both dream of living there one day, having a farm, and traveling the region doing good works. Yeah, yeah, I've seen Out of Africa one too many times. But it's a dream that hasn't died for us in many years.

My sister in-law, a woman of amazing strength and faith, has shown me how I can make a difference right now in the life of a child in Africa. She and my brother in law have had an "adopted" child from Kenya for several years now. It goes far beyond sending in a check to a faceless charitable organization each month and leaving it at that.

Here is an excerpt from a letter sent to my sister in-law and her family from their "son," Ngilimo.

“Dear sponsor T. and T.,
Greeting from your beloved sponsored child. I am fine and hope some to you. I am very happy that you sent me 100 us $ that enable me to buy one padlock, metal box, 1 pair of uniform, one shirt and geometreax set. It also assisted my family with one sheet, 2 kgs of beans, 3 kgs’s sugar, 1 pkt tea leaves, 2 bars soap, 2 tins cooking fat, firestone shoes, 1 pair of tins, tw packets cooking darir (sp?) and one mattress. We thank you and keep praying for you. This year I am in grade 5. Wishing you the best,
Loter Ngilimo

He includes pictures he drew of an oxen, car & barn, and a photo of him and his mom with all of the items they bought.

My sister in law tells me they have received even more sentimental cards from him about how they have helped change his life by sending him to school and providing for extras that he wouldn't normally be able to have. She even sends gifts to him in the mail, and after all these years not one has failed to reach Kenya. On their 'fridge at home is a picture of Ngilimo, and her boys pray for him every night, and they dream of traveling to Kenya one day and seeing him in person.

Don't make me get all Sally Struthers on your ass and post a video of myself crying over these kids. Just go check out this website and see how easy it is to make a difference in the life of a child. We're doing it. My girls have begged me to adopt a 12 and 10 year old, and that is just what we're doing. I'll report back on that next week.

p.s. look what Philanthropy Thursday won ---------------------------------->

Philanthropy Thursday

I love jewelry. I love it almost as much as I love skin care products, which is saying quite a bit since I suffer from wrinkle-rexia and refuse to seek treatment. Unless that treatment is a firming/lifting/heat-activated/exfoliating/smoothing serum. That smells like my youth returned.

I live in a delicious part of the country for jewelry. There are all the Native American wares to be had, and you cannot walk through my downtown without throwing a rock and hitting a gallery with handmade jewelry (as opposed to when I lived in the South and you couldn't throw a rock without hitting a Baptist church or a Waffle House. But that is another story).

My good bloggy friend, Bette Jo, has an Etsy shop where she sells her exquisite jewelry. As I type this I am tossing my head around to feel the red coral earrings and turquoise necklace of hers that I am wearing. I wanted to take a picture so you could see what they look like on, but I looked at all the pictures I took and frankly, I do not remember my neck being crepey last week. It is apparently my time as a woman to have a wrinkled neck, and as I have no anti-crepe creams or potions, so you will have to make do with pictures of the jewelry that do not have my neck in them. Oh, wait, that white swan-like thing to the right is my neck. You only think it's a mannequin.

In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Bette Jo has generously offered to make this Philanthropy Thursday really fun. If you buy any of her creations, she will donate 10% of the proceeds to the Susan G. Komen foundation. Just reference in your purchase "Philanthropy Thursday" and it's done. This generous offer is valid throughout the entire month of October, so any time you shop in her store all month, you're also helping fund research for a cure.

I was amazed at how reasonable her prices were, and you aren't really shopping, you're being philanthropic.

Philanthropy Thursday

"You must be the change you want to see in the world."--Mahatma Gandhi

I was in the grocery store tonight. I needed some light bulbs and thought I'd shop for the dinner we're hosting tomorrow night. My cart was laden with wine, good cheese, organic fruit, chicken, and ingredients for dessert. As I stood in line at 9:30 in the evening, I waited while a young mother ahead of me struggled with her purse. Her two children were beside her, their eyes heavy looking and I wondered if it was past their bedtime. I looked at her items. White bread, a gallon of generic whole milk, and a five pound bag of russet potatoes. My reverie was broken by the curt words of the checker. "Your card's declined."

I froze. What could I do? I wanted to offer to pay for her paltry fare, but the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass or shame her. In those few wasted seconds, she hesitantly took out what was clearly a credit card and handed it to the checker. It went through, and she was on her way.

This happens all the time where I live. Maybe it does where you live, too. We're just a few miles from the Navajo Reservation, and the poverty there is astounding. It is a third world. And it is a black mark upon every American citizen, if you ask me. There are people everywhere struggling to feed their families; sometimes it's obvious, and sometimes we have no clue. There are probably women blogging today about some funny thing their kid said and failing to mention their need.

What should I have done? How can I quickly face a situation like that in the future? How do I avoid coming off as an over-privileged asshole who is showing off and expecting thanks and instead more like a woman who simply wants to lend another woman a hand? What do you do in situations like this? If you suddenly were handed the keys to a large charitable foundation, how would you disperse the money? Why?

If you would humor me, and help me out, I would be really grateful. So grateful, that I'll enter you in a drawing to win a beautiful "Be the Change Cuff Bracelet"(winner to be announced this weekend). With the purchase of the bracelet, The Hunger Site funds 25.0 cups of food. More importantly, it is a lovely reminder that in order for our world to change, we have to change. I want to. Do you?

Philanthropy Thursday

My best friend has a problem really likes shoes. So when her birthday rolled around last week, I was thrilled to find this website.

This year she got shoes, and they're sturdy ones that are on the feet of a young girl in rural Africa so that she may go to school. CAMFED is the campaign for Female Education, dedicated to fighting poverty and AIDS in rural communities in Africa by educating girls. It is an amazing organization. You can shop directly on the site, although I found my way to CAMFED by shopping here, where you can choose from an array of amazing gifts to buy. Not all of the goods and services on the Hunger Site benefit CAMFED, although it is also a charitable site, benefiting people all over the world.

At the Hunger Site store you can buy an actual good (fair trade of course) to give to someone, or you can choose to buy something such as shoes, or a goat, or a month of school tuition, or clothes for refugee children and do it it your name or a friend's. With the purchase of the shoes in my friend's name, 100% of the proceeds went to CAMFED. Some of the gifts on the Hunger Site benefit other, worthy, charities. If you'd prefer, you can also shop on the CAMFED site, although all the pricing is in pounds sterling, so get an exchange calculator.

Even more amazing? It only cost me $14 and 100% of the proceeds went to CAMFED. Truly fabulous. Christmas is fast approaching, and why not stock up on gifts that make a fantastic difference and also make you stand out as a unique gift giver? Who needs another scented candle?

Philanthropy Thursday and Bling! Bloggy Blingalicious

So what, exactly, would the punishment be for letting your child drive at the age of twelve? Would I really even do any jail time? She knows the way. It's automatic transmission. How freakin' hard can it be? She could take herself and her siblings to school, baby Jack could go along for the ride and be show and tell for his brother, all while I kick back with a nice margarita and an entire day of WE television network.

This is what I've become.

Back in the cold world that doesn't allow social drinking and driving with the kids, I think I'll go do something nice today and pretend I'm on the couch. My Philanthropy Thursday is going to be as follows: I am going to rake the rocks off the play lawn at my kids' school. The kids kick up the landscaping rocks that border this area and they need to be swept off periodically. Also, and this may or may not count as "philanthropic," I am going to be super duper nice and smiley with a huge hello to that bitchy lady at my club that just stares at me when I see her. She's been doing this for three stinking years. We even had kids in the same class at school at one point and all I get is the stare. Oooh, the bitchiness - prepare to be killed with kindness.

And I am just dripping with buttons now. Dripping I tell you. Yes, some of you fancy pants bloggers have pages devoted to your bling, but I have that simple, classic look that says "I have just a few buttons but wear them with aplomb."

Sonia Sunshine hosted that celebrity look-alike contest and I won! (see sidebar for awesome Marilyn Monroe button).

She also bestowed upon some blogs a button that just kills me:

I am a cat's ass. I love it -

And Painted Maypole gave me this:









And Tabba and Mary Alice gave me this...




Sooo...I am allowed to pass on the nice matters award, and although I haven't kept track, so many of the blogs I read have this already. I think the guys need a fair shake, so I am going to pass it on to Ron, because he really is nice, and to Mr. Fab, because at first I thought he'd never put up an award like this, until I saw that fifty other bloggers gave him one of these, too. Ah, what the heck.

Have a wonderful day and I'd love to know if you plan on paying it forward!