New Year’s Resolution: Keep Using Toilet Paper

When I started documenting my journey through the world of green living idealism, my goal was to act as a bridge between the Crazy-Hippie-Freaks and the Mother-Earth-Killers. I feared mainstreamers would be turned off by life in a yurt, wearing organic linen (homespun from the co-op field of flax), foraging sunlight, moonbeams, and rainbows for meals—as tasty as they are. I didn’t want them to reject all of it outright.

I, as liaison perched between the two worlds, try to offer several tour packages into this foreign, exotic, even, yes, sexy jungle of green living—a world that includes frightening things called

“no-‘poo.”

(No. It’s not what it sounds like. It’s alternative shampoo.)

Tour Package #1—“Li’l Tyke’s Toe-Dippers’ Club.” We’ll carpool our way around the outskirts of the jungle. We’ll see some reusable tote bags, try our hand at easy recycling (metal, plastic, cardboard), and, if we’re lucky, we might even find a couple of second-hand items that we need, in place of buying new. Try the optional lunch add-on: Intro to Vegetarian Cuisine—Almond butter/Local Honey or Hummus/Organic Vegetable sandwiches on local artisan bread. Yum!

Tour Package #2—“Eco-Adventurer-Lite Team.” In this tour, conducted by public transportation, we will explore even further than the “Toe-Dippers’” tour. At our first stop, the local grocery store, we will buy in bulk (to reduce waste) and use reusable mesh bags when buying produce. Our second stop is at the Farmers’ Market to see what interesting local/organic foods/people we find. We will forego a stop for fast food (though if we DID go, we would kindly refuse the kids’ toys) and have a picnic lunch instead. (See above for lunch choices. Optional add-on: quinoa salad.) It will be a no-waste affair—cloth napkins, real cutlery. (Please bring a reusable drink container. If you do not have one, and you think you might get thirsty, you can either share with your neighbor or purchase a container at the gift shop before departure. Or, hope it rains.) We will practice freezing leftovers in glass jars or reusable plastic containers (*not* zip-top bags). Optional take-home challenge: minimize the times you take the garbage out for pick-up over the next 12 months.

Tour Package #3—the “Super Nerdy Green Dorks.” This tour will be via bicycle, so bring a helmet. We will eliminate any chemical pest control/lawn service and start using rakes and push mowers in the yard. We will seek out as much vegetable matter and food scraps in increasingly disgusting stages of rot and collect it for the compost bin. After that we will train ourselves how to sign up for CSAs (Community-Supported Agriculture) to receive fresh-picked, local farm foods. (There are also meat CSAs for those carnivores who, like my husband, feel that vegetables are what food eats.) We will arrange for a home energy audit, we will find repair shops and tailors/seamstresses. This tour also shows us how to recycle more challenging items (i.e. used cooking oil). The meal included in this tour package will be at a locally-owned (non-chain) restaurant whose chefs feature dishes inspired by fresh, seasonal ingredients. We will bring our own reusable “To-Go” containers, should there be any leftovers.

I am not qualified to lead any expeditions more hardcore than these. For example, there are green advocates out there who shun toilet paper made not only from virgin wood but from recycled sources as well. Instead they might use any single or combination of the following: moistened cloth wipes that get laundered, French-style bidet, or a tool attached to the toilet’s incoming water supply that sprays water, ahem, wherever you might, uh . . . need water sprayed.

I am inspired by their efforts. I truly am. However, when I’m trekking my way through this crazy wilderness and Nature comes a’ callin’, you can be sure that I’ll be packing my folding shovel, and, yes, a roll of toilet paper.

At least for this year.

{c post} Post-Holiday Assessment—How Much Do I Really Need?

After Christmas the past few years, I have found myself wanting to pare down the amount of decorations and paraphernalia we put away and store—it can get overwhelming and frustrating, both feelings that distract from what I want Christmas to be.

Last year I got rid of our generic tree skirt and now use, instead, a red duvet cover we already have. A quilt or blanket could work as well. It can be out of regular rotation during the holidays and then it gets put back to work when the tree comes down.

The stockings we’ve had for years now—standing in for when I was going to create home-sewn, personalized, crafty masterpieces—will be replaced. Starting next year, our stockings hung by the chimney with care will be . . . yep, actual *socks* we already have in our drawers/baskets/closets. It’s a retro, unexpected, and fun way to infuse a sense of simplicity to Christmas. Using smaller stockings means that Santa will need to simplify his generosity to a more modest amount of goodies. (I find that, around here at least, the more stuff my children get, the more they want/demand. The less they get, the more grateful they are. I like that feeling around the house.)

As we pack away ornaments each year, I find myself getting rid of a handful of them (that have no meaning). At the same time, this year I found myself adding real pine cones and sticks (that the children had found) to the tree as natural decorations. Those decorations do not use up any basement, garage, or closet storage space. They go back outside when all is done. Maybe next year I’ll phase that in more.

Lights. Ah, the stereotypical love-hate relationship. The plan is to slowly (because of higher cost) transfer to longer-lasting LEDs. This year when checking the lights we were down a few strands of working lights. Instead of buying a bunch of cheap strands that will last 1-2 seasons, we just made do with fewer lights.

I got rid of wrapping paper, paper/plastic gift bags, tissue paper and plastic ribbons two years ago. More free space in the house. Instead we wrap gifts in cloth and clothing as mentioned in this post.

All of the items will find new homes elsewhere. For now I have set them aside for the summer Free Sale, now in its 8^th year.

Last year we pared down and consolidated enough to eliminate one storage bin. This year we managed to eliminate 2 more storage bins. The garage has more breathing room.

And so does my mental space.