My family has been in the West for many generations, and my parents were both children of the Depression. They grew up in farming and ranching communities, and idealized a frugal, rural life. We rarely shopped more than once a month when I was young, and every meal was a pantry meal.

My mother was a canner, and filled shelves with tomatoes, pickles, green beans, peaches, jams and applesauce, among many other foods. The cellar would be neatly lined with jars of summer’s bounty. Their modern life included the freezer, which she filled with red and green chile, meat, and masses of zucchini, grated for bread and casseroles. Frozen sweet corn was a regular side dish of winter meals.

My father’s root cellar was a mystery to me. For all that I did with him, I never visited that cellar. He would come in from the cold, arms full of his earthy treasures—turnips, potatoes, onions. His shop was my other room, though, and I often played there. The rafters hung with cloth bags full of dry fruits, which my parents had sliced and spread on screens on our roof in fall. Mom would stew them into dark compote that we’d eat over her delicious breads.

My dad was a gardener, raising peas, corn, onions, peppers, tomatoes and other vegetables, many of which went into the freezer, cellar or canner. He always planted extra summer squash, which vexed my mother, who had to deal with the inevitable surplus. He raised blue corn for meal, which he ground himself. It was quite coarse, and my mom would grease her cast iron skillet with bacon drippings and bake cornbread in it. We would eat it hot with butter and honey or molasses.

Meat is a powerful winter food. My mom remembers when winter was a natural time for storing and aging meat, something impossible in summer without electricity. It takes stored or bought feed to keep an animal through winter, so some get culled. Summer butchering was packed neatly and frozen. The winter kitchen was often warm, and perfumed with roasting meat and baking bread.

I think the food I remember the most was beans, which we ate regularly. I still love stewing them with onions and canned tomatoes, my mom’s favorite way to extend leftovers. My dad loved beans and often requested them for Christmas dinners.

When I was young, I resented my parents’ isolation and simplicity, longing for a modern world. Now I realize I lost something, which deserves to be remembered, resurrected: the connection to the seasons, of eating and the land. Not everything modern is progress. Surprisingly, I have rediscovered part of myself in the winter kitchen.

I think I do a lot of things that make a difference, like buying organic food and shopping locally. But I wanted to find ways of going further, making more of a difference. Is my lifestyle really sustainable? What changes could I make that would bring me closer to sustainability? A couple of things began to crystallize:

• Packaging unnecessarily inflates costs. In 2010, the EPA’s Facts & Figures for solid waste found that 30% of municipal solid waste is packaging & containers. All that trash used up many times more resources in the forms of wood pulp, and oil for raw material, production power and transportation. Considering all the demands on resources, excess packaging is a low-return investment.
  What I can do: Convert my shopping list to bulk items, fresh and durable produce, using reusable containers and bags.  Keep spare reusable bags in the car so I won’t get caught without them.  Give minimally packaged gifts this year in reusable bags.
• Mass-meat production wastes water (vegetarianism preserves it). It takes approximately 20x more water to produce meat than grain, pound for pound. Vast landscapes have been converted to corn and soy production to feed livestock, which require vast quantities of water. Confined animal operations are even worse because of the concentration of feces and urine that carry the hormones and antibiotics  off the operation into surrounding watersheds.
  What I can do: Step up Meatless Day to 3x/week, and consider more vegan options. Find vegetarian recipes that satisfy the family carnivores, and opt for grass-fed when we do eat beef.
• Shopping at a co-op makes more difference. A recent study came out on the economics of cooperatives, and the results were impressive. Cooperatives source local products more often, donate more to charities, sell more organic food, pay employees more, and recycle more. And shopping locally?  What’s more local than a store I own? I wish I had lots of other cooperative businesses to shop at, like a hardware co-op, a clothing co-op, a gardening co-op, a medicine co-op, a cooperative restaurant (or five).
  What I can do: Fill out my co-op shopping list first, and then go other places for back-up only.

If I found one takeaway from this process, it is this: water and energy conservation are practices that will shape our future. My three action points are a start, but I have home projects planned that will save energy and water directly, too. I am also becoming more active in how my city and county address water and energy planning. And even when I don’t always see the direct benefit of doing so, I am finding time and ways to connect with my larger community, who will share the energy and water future with me. It feels good to have an action plan. Now if I can find some people interested in a clothing-buying club…

Your author, in her natural environs.

I still don’t always recycle. Comparing organic and regular vegetables can seem tedious—after all, I grew just fine on the canned peas of yesteryear. Even though I’m concerned about what kind of Earth I’m leaving to my child, sometimes I’m more concerned with my schedule, or my budget’s bottom line.

I spent my 20s in college, during a reawakening of green living, sustainability, and healthier eating. I’ve written blog posts about local recycling options and the local farmers’ markets. From time to time I’ve shopped at La Montanita Coop, which for decades has been Albuquerque’s most reliable source of healthy products. I was one of those 80s kids who, believing that we were the future, learned to cut soda can plastic rings, and was perfectly primed to Go Green when it went mainstream in the early 2000s.

And still, I sometimes settle for convenience over quality. Living a health- and Earth-conscious lifestyle can seem intimidating, and expensive. Sometimes I feel like I won’t live up to some organic ideal. Sometimes I happily review ingredients on a product—until I see the price. Then I politely replace it on the shelf and pick up a lower-priced alternative, which usually means lower-quality ingredients. Reading those labels, and choosing by quality, has turned me into a loyal brand customer.

So, what do I look for in my ideal green brand?

• Natural ingredients: Natural, renewable sources are better for our bodies and world. I look for cane sugar over high-fructose corn syrup, coconut oil over unpronounceable chemicals in cleaning products, and potato-starch disposable plates over Styrofoam.
• Minimal, recyclable packaging: The City of Albuquerque is rolling out its recycling program, making it easier than ever. By choosing the right packaging, I help avoid landfill waste.
  Bonus Point: Packaging made from 50% or more recycled materials—I’m much more likely to buy that product. 100% recycled? I’m almost always sold.
• Local first, made in U.S.A. second: Products and brands that have a local or domestic story are much more likely to reach me. I buy local eggs, and American cotton products.

When I go shopping, I remind myself that my choices are a reflection of my values, within practical constraints. I can have an impact on the world around me every time I shop. I’ve learned to think in the positive—instead of focusing on my concessions, I concentrate on enjoying the healthy, sustainable products I’ve purchased. And I take that good feeling all the way home.

But I find that being both a consumer and citizen can get complicated. I have two sets of requirements for my daily life: one is to fulfill my needs and wants with food, products and services; the other is to live in a way that contributes positively to the world. The two sometimes seem to contradict each other.

One simple example: Should I drink coffee?

I love my morning cup, but the US does not produce coffee; it must be shipped from far away, which means petroleum and greenhouse gases. Wouldn’t it be better to quit, and drink locally-grown herb tea? To be honest, I’m not too crazy about that. What if I drank organic, fair trade coffee, so that my vice would not come with so much social and environmental damage? I do want to support poor communities whose only income would be from coffee — if they received a fair price for it. Responsible consumption is a complicated question.

Not all examples are so simple. What about buying local?

I believe in local. I want my dollars to stay here, circulating. But do we have enough water to be food-self-sufficient? After all the water needed to grow the food necessary to support our population, would we have enough to drink, too? Perhaps, if we adapt our tastes and habits to our seasons. Often locally made products use ingredients from distant places. Is that local?

And what about things we can’t get, make or grow here? Is it bad citizenship to buy quality, artisanal products from somewhere else? Is it good consumerism? You could make the argument both for and against buying them piecemeal, both for and against buying in bulk. As a purchaser for our Co-op, I can tell you that it’s difficult to fill many of our customers’ needs using only local sources.

And then there’s meat.

While the health research is somewhat mixed, it leans toward moderation. Industrial meat production is a definite thumbs-down. But what about our locally-produced, grass-fed, grass-finished beef? It provides income for rural New Mexicans, and a far healthier beef for consumers. Folks at Sweet Grass, the Quivira Coalition and Holistic Management International are fostering great land stewardship ethics in beef production.

Just the same, it requires raising animals specifically for slaughter, the most widespread reason people give for vegetarianism. And that argument is academic to people who would feel punished and uncooperative if meat was never on their plate. In practice, I don’t think you would get very far taking animals entirely off the menu.

Each person can make a difference, but not if they’re trying to fulfill everyone’s vision of “What is right.” I challenge myself to ask where I think I can make a difference as a consumer, and then take real steps towards that goal. Citizenship is a complicated question, when you break it down.

I will let you know what comes from this in my next blog.

I am dedicated to eating organic food, for my health, my family’s health, and the planet’s health. But I do have a mortgage and other expenses. There’s always more ways to spend than there is money. But because I think organic is that important, I have made it a priority in my budgeting and shop wisely to stretch my dollar. Here are a few methods I’ve come to rely on:

• Manage your money first, before start paying for anything. When my paycheck comes in, it’s already allotted out, including obligations and choices. I trade my life for those dollars, and I don’t want a single one going to anything I don’t get value from.
• Cook from scratch. I learned how to use new foods, and cook a variety of dishes. It is so much cheaper to cook at home, and you have absolute control over what goes in – and what doesn’t, like sodium and corn syrup. You can maximize fresh vegetables, whole grains and legumes to make healthy, inexpensive and organic meals.
• Follow prices carefully. By keeping a price book or just from practice, I know when a sale is good, and I stock up. When what I want is at its price peak, I wait. I get the co-op flyers emailed to me weekly, and I read them every time. Co-op membership  has really been worth it, and I get many times my membership fee back every year.
• Use the $2/Pound Rule. Items under $2/pound and are organic, I just use the organic. Think about it; how many people really can’t afford organic dry beans? It’s an incredibly cheap food, high in protein, dietary fiber and magnesium. So I pass on the organic sausage in favor of the beans. Onions, carrots, rice, popcorn and oatmeal, to name a few, are all regularly priced under $2/pound. Bulk spices are a great deal too, and though they’re priced higher, a little goes a long way.
• Prioritize your kids’ diets, and the Environmental Working Group’s “dirty dozen.” The EWG’s most pesticide-contaminated foods list is critical, and surprising. Because pesticides affect neurological processes in children, I work to reduce my son’s load most of all. If it’s on the list and I can’t find or afford it organic, we go without.
• Be flexible. I use what’s on sale, even if that’s only one brand. I might want walnuts, but sunflower seeds will do. I can use broccoli instead of asparagus.
• Grow some of it. My garden is young and just starting to produce, but I can grow lettuce, herbs and tomatoes pretty cheaply. It’s also very relaxing.

It’s true that not every bite we eat is organic; unfortunately, that’s just not practical in our super-agricultural world. But it’s a pleasure to say that many of those bites are organic. And doing right by Co-op while doing right by the planet, and my family, is an extra pleasure I get every time I shop.

They also touched on a new project we’ve been working on – the MoGro, a mobile grocery store that aims to deliver a grocery store to rural, pueblo and otherwise underserved communities. We’re super excited to see that getting out and about, too.

We have to say, as with every time we see one of our stores featured in a slick video from a big Co-op organization, we’re really proud of what we do here. And you should be, too, especially if you’re a member-owner. For all this segment makes us look welcoming, local-focused, well put-together and ready to rock at the drop of a hat (all of which is true, naturally), all that just makes us want to go to the co-op. We’re sure you feel the same way.

So when you’re down at the Valley store, paying our new celebrities a visit, be sure to pick up a few of those 1200+ local items. Your neighbors will thank you for it.

And in that earthy, giving spirit, here’s a small photo recap of some of the fun, from the lens of our very own Atlas Charles. Of course it’s not everything he shot – it was made clear to your narrator there’s much, much more in the wings – but an apéritif, you might say. A little tease from a fully satisfying day.

We also hope we’ll see you again soon – because, of course, doing your part to keep your Albuquerque, Santa Fe, and Gallup is a daily process, and there’s no better place to find Earth-friendly, sustainably produced food, household items, and the rest of it, than your local Co-op.

Thankfully we’re not there yet. Today, we address a concern that’s been with us a little longer than genetic engineering, albeit not by much. I wanted to pass on this excellent, manageably-sized checklist the HuffPost recently put together. From Butane Nuggets to a curious quantity of estrogen in your milk, it’s become a good idea to keep a small checklist of scary ingredients in the back of your mind. We know it can become exhausting – keeping an eye on the Nutrition Facts, Googling the odd chemical – but it’s important work for you and your family. And another good reason to go organic; if a box comes with the sanction of the USDA, the odds are very low it’s packing anything from this list. Plus, you do both your body and your community a favor, and deliver a blow to the Monsantos of our world, when you shop based on research.

We know it can be hard to scope box labels after a long behind whatever constitutes your office. And our employees are here to help. One of the ways co-op employees distinguish themselves in this industry is through a passion for healthy, sustainably-gathered food. So don’t miss out on the wealth of knowledge the fella stocking cookies, or the gal spraying bell peppers, carries around. If you have a question, be sure to ask; we always love a good conversation about food. We stock our shelves based on research. And we’re all too happy to pass that knowledge on to you.

It’s a slippery question. I eat organic, but not because I’m rich. There are a lot of things other people consider necessities that I don’t have, and because organic food is a priority for me, cutting some things loose helps me find the money. I can’t tell you why someone else buys organic, but I can tell you why it’s worth it to me.

I first piqued to organic food in college. As a student of environmental biology, I saw that agricultural and industrial chemicals have a profound and long-lasting impact on air, water, soil and living things. I grew up in rural New Mexico. I feel a deep, spiritual connection to my world. I began to examine who I was in the world, and of the impact of my choices. Organic food protects the world I love.

I became committed to organic food when my son was born. Suddenly, here was this little guy who depended on me for everything. Pesticides are made to kill little living things, and I couldn’t see feeding those chemicals to my son. I thought of the children of farm workers and farmers, and the impact my spending had on them. And on myself and my breast milk. Even as a single-income family, we found the money for organic food.

By then, I had also discovered that organic food is delicious. Complex and hearty, it’s nothing like their bland and pithy counterparts. And that’s what they are: counterparts. We’ve had organic food for as long as we’ve been a species; “conventional” food appeared only in the last fifty years. True, there is bad organic food to be had. Mainstream stores want organic dollars without making a commitment to truly good food, so they look for stuff that fits the bill. But the vegetables and fruit grown (and cared for) by committed, organic farmers is beyond compare. I’m hooked. Better taste, more antioxidants, and other beneficial compounds. I do what I have to to make it affordable.

Of course, I thought there was nothing left that could make me a more committed organic shopper. And then came GMO’s.

Not the careful work by universities and health agencies to solve the world’s hunger and health issues. I mean for-profit genetic engineering. The kind our “regulatory” agencies are rubber-stamping for hidden and broad human consumption. When a million people signed petitions asking for GMO’s to be labeled, our government lumped them into 394 comments and halved the new GMO approval period. And since there’s no regulation of the term “all-natural,” USDA Organic-certified and Non-GMO Project-verified foods are the only trustworthy options on the shelves.

Plus, much “conventionally-grown” produce comes with huge governmental subsidies, meaning the cost of running the farm, sewing, growing and harvesting the food is being offset. By your money. That’s right: your money. Where do you think those government subsidies come from? When you buy “conventional,” you’re actually paying twice for bland, less-healthy food.

Is organic food affordable? When you look at the cost of disrupted land, water and bodily systems, now, and in the future of food, is industrial food really affordable?

What would you find if you prioritize your expenses? I can’t say what it’s worth for you to give up. But for me, in the long-run, a little more at the register is by far the less-expensive option.

That said, if you’re anything like your author, you’ve been suffering something fierce. Juniper, Elm, Ragweed, Sycamore, Rye and Sage have all been making their time-honored appearances – promising lovely flora and horrible allergies. So for all of you praising the rain for pushing the pollen to the ground, here’re a few suggestions, all of which you can find in Produce and HBA at the Co-op:

• First and foremost, you should own a Neti Pot. True, it’s not the most charming moment of your day, but only pull it out in your alone hours and no one will be the wiser. Unless they notice how easily you’re breathing, and how little you’ve had to spend this season on drugs, herbs and doctor’s visits.
• Try a spoonful of local honey with your coffee or tea, every morning for a year. Many people report it helps the body build a tolerance to local allergens. It makes good sense, too: the bees make their honey out of the very pollens that render you unable to see straight. This is one infusion your liver will be happy to grow more tolerant of.
• Avoid triggers. I was crippled for four days last week after consuming (sincerely only) three beers and a perhaps inadvisable quantity of birthday cake. Alcohol (let’s say more than 12 oz.) and wheat can wait a few weeks, no?
• The same rules as usual still apply. Keep your immune system hearty and satisfied with garlic and ginger-heavy helpings, lots of fruits and vegetables, and plenty of sleep. We can’t guarantee you won’t still get struck, but the odds are substantially more in your corner.
• Next time, treat yourself ahead of time. We realize we’re a little behind the curve here, but we can’t recommend enough proactive action. Start Neti flushing immediately after your first sneeze, or whatever your first symptom. Try a juice fast to clean out some of the toxins that might compromise your immune system. Take extra-good care of yourself, including forcing loads of good, restful sleep.

Still suffering? Come say hi to the Co-op’s friendly and knowledgable Health and Beauty staff. They’ve got rows and rows of herbs, tinctures and naturally-derived medications, as well as the background and interest to back it up. Try with confidence, as you can return it within 30 days, with receipt. It’s just another reason the Co-op’s your best bet for Spring shopping.