Clean Living

I've already posted about some reservations Adam and I share about wedding registries. But, since we opted to have one, we might as well do it right... As you may already know, Etsy makes me very happy. Local, small scale, often eco-friendly artisans with an on-line community rock. Because of Etsy's structure--many items are one-of-a-kind--it isn't really possible to register with Etsy. But I was inspired by a Wedding Bee who decided to create an Etsy registry anyway.

So here's my compilation of things that would enrich our lives a little bit after we're married. It seems a little disingenuous to need some stuff in order to need less stuff, but I've tried to pick things that will stay useful for a long, long time. (If nothing else, we can keep them on a wish-list for later!):

For the kitchen:
Must-have chopsticks!
Gorgeous salad tongs
Gorgeous cooking and serving utensils!
Gorgeous butcher board!
Recycled wine bottle tumblers--let's get eight!

For the home:
Window herb garden
Indoor flower pots and watering can
A broom broom!

For life on the go:
Reusable sandwich bags--I love the giraffe
Reusable lunch kit=awesome!

For reducing and reusing:
A plastic bag dryer--brilliant idea!
Eco-friendly laundry detergent--will it work?
Reusable dryer sheets
Reusable Swiffer pad--all the ease, none of the guilt!
Plastic bag sock
Reusable produce bags--didn't know these existed!

Just for fun:
A secret compartment book--always wanted one!

Are there any gorgeous, hand-made items you crave for your house or apartment?

A Guilty Registry Pleasure

I've posted before about the crisis of conscience Adam and I had about registering. I'm afraid I've moved a bit beyond the moral stage. Once I realized that I was making a list of things that we really needed, or things we could use to have fun with friends, registering suddenly became a lot more fun.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I discovered Amazon.com, too, will make a donation to Habitat for Humanity whenever someone purchases something from a registry. Free license! I'm afraid I've diverted myself from my (now almost finished) dissertation for the last several days with this.

Adam and I don't want to register for things like sheets or towels of napkins rings. We'd like to decorate our home ourselves. But can you think of anything else useful or fun we may have missed?

Showers

I've had a number of really awesome experiences in the last couple of weeks. One of these was my "week of showers," a week of wedding-dress fittings and bridal parties like no other.

I've already written about some of the moral qualms Adam and I felt about wedding and shower presents. But seeing the looks of love and generosity on the faces of so many friends and family members laid most of those reservations to rest. The rooms were full of people who really care about us and who really wanted to help us provide for our future! We're grateful for their generosity, for the generosity of my Aunt Donna and friend Linda Summerlin who planned the events.

Favorite gifts? Too many to name! But they do include a Royal Albert tea setting for four, a new Cuisineart food processor, and a Black and Decker tool-kit (mine, not his).

The Black and Decker tool-kit was a brainstorm I had a few weeks before the shower. I added as many practical, "non-traditional" things as I could think of: a picnic basket, board games, an herb garden. Can you think of anything else "non-traditional" that might make a nice registry addition?

Showers

My daily routine is so bizarre and non-standard while I'm home that I often find it difficult to make time to write. I'll do better when I get back to Oxford in two weeks. But, for now, I would be horribly remiss not to mention my two amazing showers!

The strongest impression coming away from my showers is one of overwhelming love. One of my mom's best friends, Linda Summerlin, and my aunt, Aunt Donna, put a lot of visible time and effort into throwing me absolutely beautiful showers. People came and people gave me extraordinarily generous gifts. But more than that, I had thirty people really interested and invested in my life. People who wanted to know where I'm going with my life, who cared about my dreams for marriage. The entire experience was overwhelming. Thank you to everyone who helped make my showers so lovely.

You can view pictures of my showers here, here, and here.

Registries: A Moral Qualm

When I went registered at Macy's, I was shocked by how much I was taken in by the system. Just standing in the store, I started to create a mental picture of my life with Adam, one of opulent wealth. Not that the kind sales attendant who helped us at Macy's was anything but extraordinarily professional--she didn't bully me into anything. It was the structure of the entire "wedding gift" department of the store. It made me want things I didn't even know existed. Or, perhaps want is an understatement: I was almost convinced that these things for sale in the store were requite for future married happiness.

Adam and I have found registering a difficult moral question. Two good friends of ours, adult professionals in the late twenties, decided not to register for themselves at all: they've chosen to register for a family benefiting from Habitat for Humanity. At first, Adam and I assumed that was a clear moral choice. We've decided to strive together to live below our means; expensive presents will only tempt us to purchase more nice things to match. There are so many people in this world with less than we have and, more importantly, fewer opportunities than we have. We wanted to give something to them.

These, thought, weren't the only questions we had to consider. What about those people who really want to give something to us that would support our lives together? We aren't altogether sure it was right to refuse the gifts they wanted to give in love. Are there things Adam and I really do need? As much as we don't want to clutter our lives with superfluous things, we want to be able to keep a pleasant home, showing hospitality to others as often as possible. And what about the overarching temptation of my life? If I give away my wedding presents, can I really avoid feeling self-righteous about it?

These aren't trivial questions. Adam and I are serious about trying to make moral choices together in every aspect of our lives, including finance. How do we use a system so strongly based on generosity, but so liable to materialism, correctly?

In the end, Adam and I decided to register for ourselves. Our compromise is to ask only for things that will last, or at least promise to last, a lifetime and only things that we need or will help us show greater hospitality to others. We also decided to register through the I Do Foundation. Partner vendors (including Target and Macy's) give a certain amount of the purchase price of gifts back to the charity of our choice--Habitat for Humanity International.

Still, I'm not sure what the right answer is. Generosity is a good. Materialism is a bad. I suppose the balance between the two will probably crop up for the rest of our lives together.