Hello! I’m Julia Mooney. I live in New Haven, CT with my husband and little son. My husband, Chris, and I are both Georgetown grads (Hoya Saxa, etc.) where I studied Russian history and subsequently forgot all of it. I was a fellow at the John Jay Institute after graduating and Chris and I got married the week after Chris graduated in May 2013. I grew up in San Diego, which is a far cry from the freezing tundra that is New England. We are Catholic converts from evangelicalism and entered the Church in October 2014. Chris is in grad school for theology and I keep the baby alive, teach a sentence diagraming class to middle schoolers, read a lot, and rewatch The Office.
My blog’s name comes from G.K. Chesterton’s What’s Wrong with the World:
Thrift is the really romantic thing; economy is more romantic than extravagance. Heaven knows I for one speak disinterestedly in the matter; for I cannot clearly remember saving a half-penny ever since I was born. But the thing is true; economy, properly understood, is the more poetic. Thrift is poetic because it is creative; waste is unpoetic because it is waste. It is prosaic to throw money away, because it is prosaic to throw anything away; it is negative; it is a confession of indifference, that is, it is a confession of failure. The most prosaic thing about the house is the dustbin, and the one great objection to the new fastidious and aesthetic homestead is simply that in such a moral menage the dustbin must be bigger than the house. If a man could undertake to make use of all things in his dustbin he would be a broader genius than Shakespeare. When science began to use by-products; when science found that colors could be made out of coaltar, she made her greatest and perhaps her only claim on the real respect of the human soul. Now the aim of the good woman is to use the by-products, or, in other words, to rummage in the dustbin.
Here’s to rummaging in the dustbin.