I write from the Land of the Long White Cloud, New Zealand. While I was eating kamura wedges and savoring corn fritters, the people of the US were deciding who would represent them in the halls of Congress. I placed my vote via absentee ballot just before I left.
These red-hot midterms sparked historic turnout. Over 114 million Americans cast their votes. Republicans will remain in control of the Senate in the next 116th Congress while the House will shift to Democratic leadership.
These changes will certainly lead to shifts in federal policymaking and could set the stage for friction between the two chambers as well as the executive branch.
How did Organic Champions Faire? Continue reading
As you read this, I may be streaming over the largest body of water on the planet. The Pacific will beckon as I careen across the International Date Line, south to my favorite island nation, Aotearoa, literally the land of the long white cloud according to the Maori tongue. It is also known as New Zealand. Continue reading
Let’s face it, we take towels for granted. We can buy them cheaply in all manner of color and thickness, in person or online. We drape them casually after they drink up wet beads from our skin, never thinking about their origin or maker.
Towels are part of our everyday existence, mostly unremarkable in their function and form.
This wasn’t always so. Towels were once precious textilian pieces of art produced by artisanal looms and nimble hands. Today, handwoven towels are on the brink of material extinction. Continue reading
- It was the beginning of a new millennium. The year 2000 had come with no calamities or misfortunes, but it did bring the winds of change.
I had built a small brokerage business that for six years had linked organic produce growers with receivers across the country. Yet a wrinkle was forming in the fabric of my business model that would change my life forever. Continue reading
I find myself once again in Tunisia—the people are goodhearted—almost innocent—it feels safe here.
The people are so honest that the handmade ethnic baskets are left outside the hotel store at night—no one touches or lifts the precious items from their corner.
In this whitewashed, stucco, sun-splashed landscape, the dust of the Sahara nestles and rests in the nooks and crannies of almost everything.