Liberate yourself from the tyranny of shopping. One of the best and most ways to be green is to simply have less stuff and buy used whenever possible. As food for thought, take shoes as an example. Why have a hundred or more pairs of plastic, substandard shoes when ten or twenty comfortable, practical, well-made pairs will do? I’m not talking twenty pairs of Birkenstocks here, folks. (Unless that’s what you’re into. If so, no judgment.) Buy the pretty stuff! Buy the nice, pricy, good pretty stuff—what will last and what you will like for more than a few days or weeks. Buy thoughtfully when you’re not hungry, desperate, or filling an emotional void. (Try a book for the emotional void. Chocolate is legit too.) Make sure everything fits perfectly and are suited to your different lifestyle needs. Ensure they fit correctly—don’t kid yourself here.
Less stuff equals less clutter, fewer things to cart off to donate to thrift stores on a regular basis, and more room in your life for things that matter. Buying something feels good for a moment. Having something you like that works for you, your body, and your style, and isn’t cluttery crap, feels good for much, much longer.
Women in particular are vulnerable because we’re constantly being told we’ll be happier when we have X item. We’re paid less for our work and pressured to shop more. Don’t fall for it. We’re not less because we don’t have whatever thing. Taking pleasure in material items is NOT bad or wrong. I’m not advocating spartan monasticism, unless that’s your thing. All I’m saying is that you are enough simply because you exist. Not because of what you have. Spend your money how you please, absolutely, but make sure you like it. Look to activities and people for the majority of your fulfillment. Women’s stress hormones become particularly elevated when they’re trying to manage the junk they—and, for better or worse, their families—have accumulated. Less stuff means less stress.
One more important tip: When buying clothes, buy natural fabrics. Avoid microfibers. Well, your laundry water goes someplace! When washed, microfibers get into the water supply. Like, the rivers and streams and oceans of our already ravaged ecosystems. (Don’t get me started on pesticides.) Humans have done enough damage. Enough is enough. Personal accountability means something, but demand manufacturers be held accountable too.
For more information, see storyofstuff.org (I have no affiliation with them; I simply think they are a fabulous resource.)
Lady of the Crescent Moon
Ingrid Hahn
Genre: Gothic Historical Romance
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing, LLC
Date of Publication: September 19, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-68291-738-1
ASIN: B07GHNWLC8
Number of pages: 179
Word Count: 48,800
Cover Artist: Syneca Featherstone
Tagline: In darkness, only love can light the way.
Book Description:
Normandy, 1679…
An age of high baroque splendor and excess. An age of new enlightenments; the dawn of the new epoch amid the clutter of a dying era. An age of curses and magic. An age of superstition, witches, and witch hunts.
Sidonie Cordumont is not powerful enough to save her fellow witches, imprisoned in the secret dungeons of Paris. She returns to Normandy, the place of her birth, desperately seeking help to defeat the impossible foe intent on ridding the land of her brethren. Instead, she falls into the clutches of a man she never believed she’d see again. A man she’d once hoped to marry.
The last thing Roland, Marquis d’Ambroisin, expects is to have the woman he lost tumble into his arms in the dead of night, no better than a common thief. But once he’s caught her, he doesn’t want to let her go. Unfortunately, she’s on a reckless mission, and he’s helpless to do the one thing he wants above all—protect her.
Until a promise to his dying mother binds them together…
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/8hCQXoPuLlw
Excerpt:
Sidonie didn’t
know she’d taken a step backward until there came a crunching sound from
beneath the heavy soles of her worn boots. A shiver rattled down her spine. She
wouldn’t dare take her gaze from the figure, not even to blink, but there was a
dry quality to the sound. She didn’t need to look to know what she’d crushed.
It was an old
bone.
Her back hit
something solid and large hands closed gently around the tops of her arms.
Roland’s smell made her heart leap. He’d safeguard her. All the protection she
hadn’t thought she needed or wanted, she did. At least until she regained her
equilibrium.
Slowly, as if he
occupied a separate realm where time trickled instead of spun, the haunted man
raised his head, his gaze focusing over her shoulder. The man . . . entity . .
. Jacques . . . whatever he might have been, his voice was like sand. “Good
day, Sidonie. We have been waiting for you.”
Her mouth went
dry and panic pounded through her veins. It was too soon. She couldn’t die yet.
“Waiting . . . for me?”
About the Author:
Ingrid Hahn is a failed administrative assistant with a B.A. in Art History.
Her love of reading has turned her mortgage payment into a book storage fee, which makes her the friend who you never want to ask you for help moving.
Originally from Seattle, she now lives in the metropolitan DC area with her ship-nerd husband, small son, and four opinionated cats. When she’s not reading or writing, she loves knitting, theater, nature walks, travel, history, and is a hopelessly devoted fan of Jane Austen.
She’d love to connect with her readers! Find her on Twitter as @Ingrid_Writer, on Instagram as ingrid_hahn, and on Facebook as Ingrid Hahn.
Website: http://ingridhahnauthor.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Ingrid_Writer
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