The Mushroom Factor

The July issue of Wood Magazine has an interesting article that holds credence to the level of craftsmanship we find in many things today, whether it’s our houses or the furniture we put in them. The article, written by Bob Wilson and Megan Stotmeister, is entitled “Crafting Keepsake Furniture in a Throwaway World.”

The gist of the article is an answer to the question “Is it worth it to spend hours in the workshop handcrafting your own furniture when you can find instant gratification with trendy, relatively low-cost furniture from a store?”

One of my children answers this question from the same viewpoint that many Wood Magazine readers did. She says handcrafted furniture has spoiled her. She looks at furniture her friends have purchased from well-reputed, expensive companies and finds it no where near the quality of pieces made by her brothers, father and grandfather.

Once again, my child is right (such is the case with parenthood).

In today’s throwaway world, as the article says, furniture is massed produced with staples, fiberboard and melamine. Even the so-called “finer” furniture from expensive stores is often constructed with lesser-quality woods and poor joinery. “Disposable furniture” is a term the article uses to describe this furniture and the reality that within five to seven years it will need to be replaced.

Compare that to a piece made by a hobbiest or professional artisan who spends days, weeks, even months choosing the right wood, carefully cutting and joining parts, and finishing with multiple layers of a durable coating. This piece shows pride in workmanship. It’s a labor of love. And not only has the artisan created something that will last during his or her lifetime, it will also become a treasured heirloom to those following.

Kermit the frog was right on more accounts than one when he said “it’s not easy being green.” The fact that a dozen other authors have entitled their stories with the same expression says they tend to agree. Yes, green is definitely topic of choice these days.

For our accounts, it’s not easy living a green lifestyle. Living green, or ecological living, is defined as a philosophy that aims to preserve the earth for future generations of human beings and other life. It’s an understanding that the decisions we make today affect the environment and all living things within it today and tomorrow.

My husband and I like to think we’re doing our fair share of green living. We do a bit of gardening and raise our own meat. I work from home and save commuting costs. Ninety-five percent of our home’s heat comes from burning dead wood. Heck, we don’t even use air-conditioning.

But are we really living green? For every green, or ecological, thing we do, it seems there are anti-green consequences.

Let’s take our home for example. In order for us to garden and raise livestock, it’s necessary for us to live in a rural setting. This is a choice we’ve made and we love the county life. However, for anything we do away from our home—for groceries, for school, for church, to visit family—absolutely everything requires at least fifteen miles of driving and a half hour of time round trip to the nearest town, which in our case is rather small.

Driving to town has always been part of my life and I’ve never given it much thought. But just to keep me from becoming too smug in my greenness, author George Zens writes about ethanol in the Sustainable Times. He describes our insatiable dependency on fuel for our cars and how producing ethanol has a negative affect on food prices, the environment and our national budget.

What about burning wood for home heating? By burning wood in conjunction with our natural gas furnace, we save a bundle on heating costs, reduce dependency on depletable fuel and get a good physical workout to boot. Sure seems like a natural and ecological thing to do. But is it really? If everyone burned wood, how would our quality of air compare to the overall cleanliness we enjoy today? How concerned should we be about the growing number of outdoor wood burners, which often are less efficient and considerably more pollutant?

And finally there’s our air-conditioning. Or, lack thereof. We live on a hill with large, old shade trees that blow beautiful breezes throughout the summer. I never want to confine ourselves inside when we can easily relish the outdoors through open windows. Besides, are we becoming such wimpy people that we must always have air-conditioning? Ah, but let me confess. We have a swimming pool. It’s a 25-ft. above-the-ground eyesore that regularly requires electricity for filtering and chemicals for cleanliness.

Maybe I shouldn’t sound so self-righteous and hoity-toity after all.

No, it’s not easy being green.