Feeling like a twit on twitter….

Okay, I joined. www.twitter.com/kiera_stewart

“Followers” needed! (Sorry, that sounds so cultish! I promise – no special shoes or Koolaid drinking required.) If you follow me, I’ll follow you, and we can walk around in a nice little circle. It’ll be fun!


The Mother’s Day post

So tomorrow’s Mother’s Day.

And I’m giving my mom a bagful of rotting trash.

Mother’s Day has never been a Hallmark occasion in my family. Mostly because my mom is not a Hallmark kind of person.

Don’t get me wrong – she’s a loving, caring, generous person, but I know better than to buy her a flowery card that says so. A bouquet? Oh, please! So wasteful! If I were to even think of jewelry, I’d be in for a long, impassioned and disappointed lecture, at the very least.

I know my mother loves me, but throughout my life, there’s always been a close contender for her affection — an unsightly presence which, when I was growing up, lived under the kitchen sink and required daily feeding.


Okay, maybe I need to explain. My mom’s a real granola – always has been. Saving the earth is her self-proclaimed life purpose. And it’s not exactly the fresh-scent-of-Greenworks-kind-of-earth-friendliness that I’m talking about.

Here’s an example. When I was six, my parents enrolled me in an “experimental” school. It was run by a couple of progressives named Gordon and Lynn, and there were no classrooms, no tests, no grade levels, and no grades.  

Science meant hiking through the woods on the school property, flipping over an abandoned tent, and choosing a pet slug to take home and care for. It also meant that when one of the parents accidentally ran over a rooster, the whole school gathered for an educational “dissection.” Later, it was perfectly acceptable – honorable even – when said parent took home the rooster remains. To cook. For dinner.

Yeah, so, that kind of recycling.

So, now, when I think about things that would make my mom happy, I think banana peels. Potato scrapings. Apple cores. And do you realize how happy and fat the earthworms in her vegetable garden get when she mixes coffee grounds in the soil? I mean, that gives her a serious case of the warm fuzzies.

This Mother’s Day, I hope you can take a minute to show your own mom some love on her own terms – be that flowers, or candy, or perfume…or a nice, wholesome, organic decay. 

Happy Mother’s Day!