Investing Locally

 
I recently took a step to put my money where my mouth is.

The idea of bringing money (investments) back to the local community has appealed to me for a while. Being able to know the people who are using my money and having a first-hand understanding of what it is that they are doing with it is appealing. As is the idea that my money is actually going toward something that will take root where I live, rather than in some unknown and unknowable place because that's where the fund advisers decided to invest. No, the idea of direct investment had appeal. But I hadn't done anything to really act on the concept til recently.

Perhaps to chagrin of my financial adviser, I "liberated" a portion (perhaps the first of many...) of my funds from traditional investment vehicles and they now sit ready to invest in local enterprises. But how do I find out about and choose the investments?

That's still a bit of a challenge, but it's getting easier all the time. Currently I check in on a website called LocalStake.com where there are all manner of local investment opportunities. Many related to local food and beverages. And they are true investments not donations. For the moment, "local" is a bit of a stretch but at least the options are in the midwest rather than somewhere on the other side of the globe. And over time as more people know about the site and more businesses are funded, my hope is that more will appear as opportunities.

Will I make a fortune doing this? I doubt it. I don't even think that's the question that needs to be asked. The question that needs to be asked is: what does it take to reclaim control of what I eat and drink? To know how it was made, what's in it and what's behind it? If I can know these things and get good products from the companies I'm funding, along with a fair return (financial and social), then these are sound investments and ones I'll be committed to for the long haul.

Reconnecting with Thanks

This item (15510) is available at chinaberry.com.  I get nothing if you decide to purchase it.

 

Thanksgiving is barreling toward us. I say "barreling" because it feels nothing like the holiday of my childhood. Then it was a gateway to the season of celebration that was December. It was anticipated and planned for of course, but there was no stress about what would be served or how dinner would be done. Or in my house, it seemed that there was also no question about who would be there and how the experience would unfold.

The food was traditional and anticipated because it was seasonal. It was the first time that we would enjoy the persimmon pudding that would be present through year end, then disappear again until next year's crop of persimmons. It was also about that time that we would be the beneficiaries of the once-a-year case of Coke and Bubble Up that would be given to my father by some vendor his business used. It was consumed sparingly but such a treat! And of course there would be turkey, dressing, potatoes, beans and homemade wine.

Besides my parents and me, I recall the traditional guests as my brother and his wife and two children, my maternal grandparents and perhaps my Uncle John and Aunt Juanita. It's a bit fuzzy about who moved in and out the picture over the years. The table would only accommodate eight. But the core was always there - my parents and me - even as others grew up and moved away, had other commitments or died.

My mother did the meal from beginning to end. I don't recall anyone bringing dishes although they might have. She worked very, very hard and long hours getting things ready in advance and cooking the entire day of Thanksgiving dinner. As she got older it must have tired her out more and more because somewhere along the line I think she must have stopped. Perhaps when the people were no longer there to congregate, perhaps when she just decided it was too much. Perhaps when she decided it was time for the next generation to step up and take on the tradition. Whatever it was, it was long ago because she died in 1988 and had stopped having Thanksgiving at least five years before that. So the strong memories I have and feel so connected to are from more than 30 years ago.

There was a great deal to be thankful for back then. But I don't think we spent much time thinking about it. Maybe it means so much to me now because no one who was there then is here any longer. No one but me. Maybe its meaningful because what I took for granted as permanent is no more.

Today my Thanksgivings are a different kind of celebration. In their way, they honor friends, good food, others' traditions. These Thanksgivings and their traditions are no less worthy than mine. Yet, I still long for mine. 


NOTE: The picture above is a simple way to introduce mindful thankfulness into Thanksgiving, or actually any meal. IT is a simple wooden bowl hewn from American hardwood. It holds carved wood acorns and maple leaves.  Using it is simple. According to the catalogue, just pass the bowl around the Thanksgiving table so each person can take on of the pieces. As everyone holds their piece, they can express their gratitude silently or out loud. When everyone is finished, pass the bowl around again to collect the pieces. The full blow now a meaningful symbol of the thanks offered by the entire group can be placed on the table as a reminder.

The Important but Not Urgent

I did it again. I forgot what is really important. Doing and pursuing things that are urgent but not important has led me down paths that, when I look back, I think "why did I do that?" Or worse, "what a waste of time" or "I didn't even enjoy it." I've done this over and over. And every time I think I've learned my lesson, at some future point I find that the learning didn't stick. It's happened again.

Last fall I was so "busy" I forgot to plant my fall crop of garlic. And this year my gardening took a back seat to other things. I'm not sure exactly what took its place, but something did. No doubt something that screamed "urgent!" And so when I got my last tomato CSA yesterday, it struck me that another summer (of which there are only a limited number left) was gone and I'd not enjoyed my garden as I had in past years. I didn't give much to it and it didn't give much to me. Fair and tremendously unsatisfying.

Then I looked at some tomatoes, a few peppers, a bit of fruit and flowers sitting on my counter and was content again. The garden's bounty may not have cheered me during the growing season, but all that beauty sitting on my counter reminded me of that planting and tending my food is one of the most important things in my life. It's nothing to be missed.Actually, nothing that satisfying could be more urgent.