So I've lived - more or less successfully - without using disposable plastic for a nearly month. It is difficult at times. It requires thought and forward planning and also some expense. When the month is over, I will loosen up a bit but what I won't be doing is heading out on a plastic binge. My lifelong relationship with plastic has now permanently altered. Never again will I buy bottled water or drink coffee from a takeaway cup. I will continue to buy the fruit and vegetables that come loose instead of wrapped in plastic. I won't bother with clingfilm because I have reusable food wrap and sandwich bags. I will replace my bamboo toothbrush with another bamboo toothbrush but I will never again use the sodding Peppermint and Wintergreen clay-based toothpaste for people who live in the woods. I will also probably shave my legs now and then.
I am carrying out this act of environmentalist extremism because I am alarmed and anxious, and sometimes despairing, about the state the Earth is in. Very often, I regret the fact that I made myself find out about it because I cannot now un-know what I learned, and nothing has the power to upset me more than the sight of unnatural damage to the natural world.
There is nothing ugly in the natural landscape. Nothing. Ugliness exists only where people have altered it. It depresses the shit out of me.
But how far do you take it? Where do you stop when you're trying to minimise your life's impact on the planet? There is so much to cut out. Don't use plastic, don't fly, don't drive a car, don't buy food from other countries, don't buy food grown more than fifty miles away, don't eat beef, don't eat fish, don't eat meat of any sort, cut out dairy, become vegan, don't have more than two children, don't heat your home, don't turn lights on, don't use a computer, don't overeat, don't use carrier bags, don't use paper bags, don't use anything made with palm oil, don't buy mahogany or teak, don't buy wooden furniture, don't buy plastic furniture, don't watch tv, don't consume, live in a house no bigger than you need, don't use paper...
You can't breathe. You can't breathe without destroying something.
The trouble is, we exist in a system. A world system. We're trapped in it. Some of us would like to get out, but then where would we go? We'd be sent to the fringes, sent to live among the mad and the misfits and the ones who couldn't get on, and we want to get on so we stay, and we use plastic and we fly and we drive cars and we buy food from other countries and we buy food grown more than fifty miles away and we eat beef and we eat fish and we eat meat of every sort and we consume dairy and we don't become vegan and we have more than two children and we heat our homes and we turn lights on and we use computers and we overeat and we use carrier bags and paper bags and we use things made with palm oil and we buy mahogany and teak and we buy wooden furniture and plastic furniture and we watch tv and we consume and we live in houses bigger than we need and we use paper...
And we cannot stop.
And slowly, the world around us is falling apart.
We won't live to see the worst of it, although certainly, we will see some. We might live through the death of the Great Barrier Reef, but we won't see the full collapse of the Arctic or the disappearance of the tropical forests. We'll see the sea levels rise and some of the loss of land mass, but probably not the famine and the vast extinctions of species.
But if we don't change, now, our children will see all of this. And it is really important to me that when it happens, my children don't say, 'My mother knew this was coming, but she knew there was nothing she could do.' They need to be the ones that say, 'My mother knew this was coming, and did everything she could.'
Wednesday 21 September 2016
Monday 19 September 2016
A New Language.
I have just returned from a brief walk around Hexham - from the West End where I live, then a little way up Priestlands, and on to the footpath that leads through the woods to the reservoir, below which is my allotment.
Through the woodland runs a stream. I stood on the bridge and photographed it. The area is very small. This is some of the rubbish I found there:-
The largest and most interesting piece was a plastic tray, which my historical expertise estimates to be from some time around 1975. Here it is, close-up:-
If you look closely, you will see two fish heads, one fish tail, a fish skeleton and a polythene bag.
I am not a scientist, so I am not going to go about finding out the cause of death of these fish. It could be anything from natural predators to shallow waters to disease. It might be that the fish died further upstream and, along with the rubbish, were swept to this area. I have no idea.
But we could imagine that the fish ate or got somehow wrapped up in the polythene bag. In that way, the beautiful little stream in Hexham acts like a microcosm of the sea. Plastic enters the water from somewhere; it is swept by the current to somewhere else, marine life eats it or gets tangled in it, then it dies.
Oh, who cares? It's only a sodding fish and every time I got rejected by some unappreciative love interest in my twenties (i.e. lots of times), I was told there were plenty more fish in the sea. This, actually, is untrue these days. Gross over-fishing and the accumulation of plastic in the sea means that, come 2050, there will be more plastic than fish in the ocean. Therefore, language will also need adapt.
'Plenty more plastic shit in the sea,' will become the new phrase with which to console the young and heartbroken, thereby symbolically reinforcing the idea that they all might as well fucking give up on love because it's just a fat load of carcinogenic shit.
I am very much in favour of this phrase.
But anyway, I digress. Back to the dead fish. I can see that two dead fish might not break your heart enough to make you care very much about plastic in the sea. But those fish are in turn eaten by larger, more charismatic marine life and cause damage to them. They are also, of course, eaten by humans. Research on the impact of plastic in the human body is still in its infancy, but it is unlikely to have many health-giving benefits. Current thinking suggests plastic chemicals can cause infertility in men and increase the risks of some cancers. There is a fuller article on the issue here.
For these and many other reasons, I am setting up Plastic-free Hexham. It will mostly involve my market stall selling refills of household cleaning products and food items but as we approach Christmas, I will also be selling gorgeous Christmas fabric and ribbons as an alternative to wrapping paper and sellotape. In five years' time, if I have my way, Hexham at Christmas will be totally reusable.
Through the woodland runs a stream. I stood on the bridge and photographed it. The area is very small. This is some of the rubbish I found there:-
The largest and most interesting piece was a plastic tray, which my historical expertise estimates to be from some time around 1975. Here it is, close-up:-
It was actually very handy, as it meant I could pile all the other rubbish on top of it and bring it home:-
Later, I will set about sorting into recyclable and non-recyclable and then dispose of it. I shall look forward to this task.
The area where I found all this stank. I thought it was the smell of boy wee at first, but as I stepped down into the stream, I saw this:-
If you look closely, you will see two fish heads, one fish tail, a fish skeleton and a polythene bag.
I am not a scientist, so I am not going to go about finding out the cause of death of these fish. It could be anything from natural predators to shallow waters to disease. It might be that the fish died further upstream and, along with the rubbish, were swept to this area. I have no idea.
But we could imagine that the fish ate or got somehow wrapped up in the polythene bag. In that way, the beautiful little stream in Hexham acts like a microcosm of the sea. Plastic enters the water from somewhere; it is swept by the current to somewhere else, marine life eats it or gets tangled in it, then it dies.
Oh, who cares? It's only a sodding fish and every time I got rejected by some unappreciative love interest in my twenties (i.e. lots of times), I was told there were plenty more fish in the sea. This, actually, is untrue these days. Gross over-fishing and the accumulation of plastic in the sea means that, come 2050, there will be more plastic than fish in the ocean. Therefore, language will also need adapt.
'Plenty more plastic shit in the sea,' will become the new phrase with which to console the young and heartbroken, thereby symbolically reinforcing the idea that they all might as well fucking give up on love because it's just a fat load of carcinogenic shit.
I am very much in favour of this phrase.
But anyway, I digress. Back to the dead fish. I can see that two dead fish might not break your heart enough to make you care very much about plastic in the sea. But those fish are in turn eaten by larger, more charismatic marine life and cause damage to them. They are also, of course, eaten by humans. Research on the impact of plastic in the human body is still in its infancy, but it is unlikely to have many health-giving benefits. Current thinking suggests plastic chemicals can cause infertility in men and increase the risks of some cancers. There is a fuller article on the issue here.
For these and many other reasons, I am setting up Plastic-free Hexham. It will mostly involve my market stall selling refills of household cleaning products and food items but as we approach Christmas, I will also be selling gorgeous Christmas fabric and ribbons as an alternative to wrapping paper and sellotape. In five years' time, if I have my way, Hexham at Christmas will be totally reusable.
Saturday 17 September 2016
Cake
The other day, my daughter told me she wants to be on Junior Bake-Off and asked if I would teach her to bake. I love to see lofty ambition in a child, so naturally said yes and spent the next few nights planning a full childhood baking syllabus, beginning with the Victoria Sandwich and moving gently through to coffee cake, chocolate cake, lemon drizzle cake, black forest gateau, meringues, scones, muffins, bread rolls and so on for the next fifteen years until finally, at twenty-one, she'd be able to build her own mortgage-free, climate-change resistant home out of gingerbread and everlasting gobstoppers.
'I want to make a five-layer wedding cake,' she announced this morning, and began taking all the tins out of the cupboard and stacking them in demonstration of her own particular vision of a multi-layered wedding cake. There were sandwich tins and loaf tins and tins of the same size, all going on infinitely (it seemed, from where I stood), to be topped in the end with something the size of a miniature muffin.
I came over uncharacteristically OCD at this point, and started flipping out at the thought of anyone attempting a multi-tiered cake before they had mastered the Victoria Sandwich. In my head, the issue took on all the magnitude of a global terror threat. She had to make a Victoria Sandwich cake, otherwise how could she ever progress, slowly but surely, to the future-proof house? In fact, how could she ever learn anything effectively if she wanted to start with the work of the experts? I had visions of my ambitious (yet simultaneously deeply reluctant) daughter, forever knowing nothing because she'd started out knowing everything. I think I might have given her a talking-to about this that has probably scarred her for life at the same time as being wholly futile. *Turns face away from memory. Prefers to forget maternal failings.*
Anyway, she bent to my will eventually and made a Victoria Sandwich cake. Oh, the joy! Oh, the deep, pure and uncomplicated joy of my realisation that CAKE CONTAINS NO PLASTIC. Look:-
Sugar (in a paper bag)
Flour (in a paper bag)
Butter (in metal wrap stuff)
Eggs (in a box)
Milk (from a bottle)
Vanilla (from an ancient pod that happened to be kicking around a shelf instead of a plastic bottle)
Jam
Icing sugar
Never mind that paper bags and the metal wrap for butter are unique environmental disasters in themselves, THERE WAS NO FUCKING PLASTIC.
My daughter made the cake. I stood on the sidelines giving the occasional direction ('no, two tins are enough'), happy in the knowledge that I could eat this sugary shit with zero plastic guilt. She was happy because she was high on cake mixture. The room filled with the odour of rising vanilla sponge and mother-daughter bonding. Some people came to view the house. They got the love vibe, I'm sure.
We went to the allotment to water the lettuces and spring onions. We picked blackberries. She said, 'Can I put blackberries on the cake?'
Part of my heart fell out of my arse at the thought of this tampering with the Victoria Sandwich and what it might mean for her ability to make steady progress in all areas of her education, but then all of a sudden I got over it and said, 'Yes. Do whatever you want.'
So this is it:
I'm not sure exactly how it works, but the top has been moved backward to allow for a platform for the blackberries. Or something.
You will see that a lot of this cake has been eaten. It was mostly by me. It was plastic free. It was dinner. Half a cake and a corn on the cob.
Life is great.
'I want to make a five-layer wedding cake,' she announced this morning, and began taking all the tins out of the cupboard and stacking them in demonstration of her own particular vision of a multi-layered wedding cake. There were sandwich tins and loaf tins and tins of the same size, all going on infinitely (it seemed, from where I stood), to be topped in the end with something the size of a miniature muffin.
I came over uncharacteristically OCD at this point, and started flipping out at the thought of anyone attempting a multi-tiered cake before they had mastered the Victoria Sandwich. In my head, the issue took on all the magnitude of a global terror threat. She had to make a Victoria Sandwich cake, otherwise how could she ever progress, slowly but surely, to the future-proof house? In fact, how could she ever learn anything effectively if she wanted to start with the work of the experts? I had visions of my ambitious (yet simultaneously deeply reluctant) daughter, forever knowing nothing because she'd started out knowing everything. I think I might have given her a talking-to about this that has probably scarred her for life at the same time as being wholly futile. *Turns face away from memory. Prefers to forget maternal failings.*
Anyway, she bent to my will eventually and made a Victoria Sandwich cake. Oh, the joy! Oh, the deep, pure and uncomplicated joy of my realisation that CAKE CONTAINS NO PLASTIC. Look:-
Sugar (in a paper bag)
Flour (in a paper bag)
Butter (in metal wrap stuff)
Eggs (in a box)
Milk (from a bottle)
Vanilla (from an ancient pod that happened to be kicking around a shelf instead of a plastic bottle)
Jam
Icing sugar
Never mind that paper bags and the metal wrap for butter are unique environmental disasters in themselves, THERE WAS NO FUCKING PLASTIC.
My daughter made the cake. I stood on the sidelines giving the occasional direction ('no, two tins are enough'), happy in the knowledge that I could eat this sugary shit with zero plastic guilt. She was happy because she was high on cake mixture. The room filled with the odour of rising vanilla sponge and mother-daughter bonding. Some people came to view the house. They got the love vibe, I'm sure.
We went to the allotment to water the lettuces and spring onions. We picked blackberries. She said, 'Can I put blackberries on the cake?'
Part of my heart fell out of my arse at the thought of this tampering with the Victoria Sandwich and what it might mean for her ability to make steady progress in all areas of her education, but then all of a sudden I got over it and said, 'Yes. Do whatever you want.'
So this is it:
I'm not sure exactly how it works, but the top has been moved backward to allow for a platform for the blackberries. Or something.
You will see that a lot of this cake has been eaten. It was mostly by me. It was plastic free. It was dinner. Half a cake and a corn on the cob.
Life is great.
Friday 16 September 2016
Competition Time
I am challenging all followers of this blog to a plastic-free dinner.
If you can have one meal this weekend consisting of either fish/meat/Quorn, two types of vegetable and a carb of some description, followed by a dessert, none of which came wrapped in plastic, then email me a picture of it, saying where you bought the stuff, to sarahstovell@hotmail.com.
The winner will get £20. But I will give it to A Month Without Plastic. It's the prize of altruism and a feeling of virtuousness. You'll love it.
If you can have one meal this weekend consisting of either fish/meat/Quorn, two types of vegetable and a carb of some description, followed by a dessert, none of which came wrapped in plastic, then email me a picture of it, saying where you bought the stuff, to sarahstovell@hotmail.com.
The winner will get £20. But I will give it to A Month Without Plastic. It's the prize of altruism and a feeling of virtuousness. You'll love it.
Thursday 15 September 2016
What to Eat
Ah, what to eat when living without plastic?
Answer: not a lot.
Over the last two weeks, I have cut out shop-bought bread, fish, all Quorn products, almost all fruit, vegetables, nuts, hummus, cereal bars, orange juice, chocolate bars, crisps, ice cream, sweets, most salad, coffee, pasta, rice... The list of foods coming fully wrapped in plastic or containing at least some plastic in their packaging goes on and on.
My breadmaker has been a handy thing. I've made two loaves every day, which has the fortunate additional feature of concealing the stench of the cat's litter tray (it has a lid, which means we can't see all the little poos and so forget to empty it) with the more inviting smell of freshly-baked bread. I'm hoping that this, in turn, will lead someone to make an offer on our house, which is currently on the market at the bargain price of £199,950. (If you would like to come and view it, please call Youngs RPS.)
Other things I've been able to eat are: eggs, peppers sold loose at the market, baked potatoes, butter, lettuce from the allotment, corn on the cob that my partner found still in its leaves in Tesco (it was much, much nicer than plastic-wrapped stuff because the leaves kept it fresh), teriyaki sauce and apples and plums kind friends have donated from their gardens. I have mostly turned these into crumbles, which has gone some way to compensating for the loss of chocolate, although I can tell you now that serving it without cream is a massive apple crumble compromise.
At the beginning of the month, I switched from coffee to tea because I had tea left over from years ago. I went off it last time I was pregnant and tea and I haven't ever fully resumed our old affair. Anyway, then the teabags ran out, so yesterday, with some trepidation, I went to buy more. Here is the teabag aisle of my local supermarket:
Plastic everywhere. I hunted and hunted and at one point I began to fear I would have to resort to some sort of herbal shit that is simply NOT FUCKING TEA, no matter what labels the manufacturers of Rabbit Shit and Sustainably-plucked Hedgehog Prickle teabags shove on the packaging of this absolute bollocks.
But in the end, somewhere towards the bottom shelf, I found it. Good old Twinings (although they do also make herbal shit). Just a plain box, on its own, with no unnecessary plastic addition. Look at this:-
I was a little nervous, though, that I might arrive home, whip open the box and find the dismal spectacle of 50 teabags contained in a plastic wrap but no. This is what I found instead:-
Look at that little beauty. A 25-bag high stack of conjoined teabags. I performed the Dance of the Happy Living Without-Plasticker and made a giant mug full.
But overall, these two vessels have been my saviours for the last two weeks. One is a water bottle, the other is a reusable coffee cup. On the days when I go to work, I get up at 5 for the long commute to Lincoln University. I'm sure it's ethically all wrong, but I love Costa lattes and those take-away cups they supply are evil in every way. So I take my own and they fill it for me and then they give me some extra points on my reward card for being so sanctimonious.
And the water bottle. Well, it's a water bottle. I fill it with water from the tap, carry it with me and never get thirsty. It's magic, and takes a little bit of business away from the bastard Nestle.
They were easy changes to make and ones I will continue forever. The reusable, washable cup. Simple in every way, and yet movingly brilliant at keeping plastic out of the sea.
Answer: not a lot.
Over the last two weeks, I have cut out shop-bought bread, fish, all Quorn products, almost all fruit, vegetables, nuts, hummus, cereal bars, orange juice, chocolate bars, crisps, ice cream, sweets, most salad, coffee, pasta, rice... The list of foods coming fully wrapped in plastic or containing at least some plastic in their packaging goes on and on.
My breadmaker has been a handy thing. I've made two loaves every day, which has the fortunate additional feature of concealing the stench of the cat's litter tray (it has a lid, which means we can't see all the little poos and so forget to empty it) with the more inviting smell of freshly-baked bread. I'm hoping that this, in turn, will lead someone to make an offer on our house, which is currently on the market at the bargain price of £199,950. (If you would like to come and view it, please call Youngs RPS.)
Other things I've been able to eat are: eggs, peppers sold loose at the market, baked potatoes, butter, lettuce from the allotment, corn on the cob that my partner found still in its leaves in Tesco (it was much, much nicer than plastic-wrapped stuff because the leaves kept it fresh), teriyaki sauce and apples and plums kind friends have donated from their gardens. I have mostly turned these into crumbles, which has gone some way to compensating for the loss of chocolate, although I can tell you now that serving it without cream is a massive apple crumble compromise.
At the beginning of the month, I switched from coffee to tea because I had tea left over from years ago. I went off it last time I was pregnant and tea and I haven't ever fully resumed our old affair. Anyway, then the teabags ran out, so yesterday, with some trepidation, I went to buy more. Here is the teabag aisle of my local supermarket:
Plastic everywhere. I hunted and hunted and at one point I began to fear I would have to resort to some sort of herbal shit that is simply NOT FUCKING TEA, no matter what labels the manufacturers of Rabbit Shit and Sustainably-plucked Hedgehog Prickle teabags shove on the packaging of this absolute bollocks.
But in the end, somewhere towards the bottom shelf, I found it. Good old Twinings (although they do also make herbal shit). Just a plain box, on its own, with no unnecessary plastic addition. Look at this:-
I was a little nervous, though, that I might arrive home, whip open the box and find the dismal spectacle of 50 teabags contained in a plastic wrap but no. This is what I found instead:-
Look at that little beauty. A 25-bag high stack of conjoined teabags. I performed the Dance of the Happy Living Without-Plasticker and made a giant mug full.
But overall, these two vessels have been my saviours for the last two weeks. One is a water bottle, the other is a reusable coffee cup. On the days when I go to work, I get up at 5 for the long commute to Lincoln University. I'm sure it's ethically all wrong, but I love Costa lattes and those take-away cups they supply are evil in every way. So I take my own and they fill it for me and then they give me some extra points on my reward card for being so sanctimonious.
And the water bottle. Well, it's a water bottle. I fill it with water from the tap, carry it with me and never get thirsty. It's magic, and takes a little bit of business away from the bastard Nestle.
They were easy changes to make and ones I will continue forever. The reusable, washable cup. Simple in every way, and yet movingly brilliant at keeping plastic out of the sea.
Wednesday 14 September 2016
What a plastic-free woman looks like
On a good day, where I use plastic to the max, I look a lot like this - not exactly like this because this was taken a few years ago and I'm ancient now:-
If I used no disposable plastic at all, which would mean no make-up, I would look like this. Admittedly, this is particularly bad:-
So I have continued to use make-up in my month without plastic.
However, I haven't used razors. I am therefore so hairy, I look as though I have taken four steps back down the evolutionary scale:-
Oh, if only this were true. Then we would not be in the environmental mess we are now in...
But there we are.
That's all I have to say. A plastic-free life is not gorgeous at the superficial level but it is gorgeous at an Earth level. But there are limits, and I haven't been able to take it that far. I won't add further comment on the 21st-century demands of a female aesthetic, and how we ought to rethink perceptions of beauty towards the beauty of a healthy earth rather than the beauty of people, because that would be at least a PhD thesis in length and I am never doing another PhD in my life. Ever. Not even a worthwhile one like that.
Monday 12 September 2016
Film: A Plastic Ocean
The charity Plastic Oceans was founded eight years ago by the film producer Jo Ruxton (The Blue Planet; World Wildlife Fund;A Plastic Ocean). The aim is to become established as a powerful global platform that will change the world's attitude to plastic.
Plastic pollution has become a global catastrophe. Over the last 60 years, plastic has become central to our lives and the planet has been subjected to 'a tsunami of plastic waste.' The scale of the problem is exponential.
This month, their film, A Plastic Ocean, is being released in the UK. It is produced by Jo Ruxton and Adam Leipzig (March of the Penguins) and there are special screenings at the Vue in Piccadilly on 22nd and 29th September. You can also get tickets to see it at the Raindance Film Festival in London.
The aim of the film is, first, to get people to know and care about the massive problem of ocean plastic. The second aim is to result in global policy change.
The charity also plans to educate those currently in school about plastic. They will be introducing the issue to 200,000 child ambassadors between now and the end of 2017 through education modules and community action groups.
With their continued dedication, the world could be free of throwaway plastic within a generation.
So far, Sally Nicholls and I have raised £700 for the Ocean Cleanup. Friends and family have really got behind this and supported us. We are now going to ask for even more because every penny that we raise over our target of £1000 will go to Plastic Oceans and help put an end to toxic plastic waste.
The trailer for A Plastic Ocean is here. It's two minutes long. Watch it.
Plastic pollution has become a global catastrophe. Over the last 60 years, plastic has become central to our lives and the planet has been subjected to 'a tsunami of plastic waste.' The scale of the problem is exponential.
This month, their film, A Plastic Ocean, is being released in the UK. It is produced by Jo Ruxton and Adam Leipzig (March of the Penguins) and there are special screenings at the Vue in Piccadilly on 22nd and 29th September. You can also get tickets to see it at the Raindance Film Festival in London.
The aim of the film is, first, to get people to know and care about the massive problem of ocean plastic. The second aim is to result in global policy change.
The charity also plans to educate those currently in school about plastic. They will be introducing the issue to 200,000 child ambassadors between now and the end of 2017 through education modules and community action groups.
With their continued dedication, the world could be free of throwaway plastic within a generation.
So far, Sally Nicholls and I have raised £700 for the Ocean Cleanup. Friends and family have really got behind this and supported us. We are now going to ask for even more because every penny that we raise over our target of £1000 will go to Plastic Oceans and help put an end to toxic plastic waste.
The trailer for A Plastic Ocean is here. It's two minutes long. Watch it.
The Allotment
Around about last November, I read the following books:
Don't Even Think About It: Why Our Brains are Wired to Ignore Climate Change
Plastic Ocean
Storms of my Grandchildren: the Truth About the Coming Climate Catastrophe
I read them in much the same way that people watch the rolling news in the wake of a disaster or a terrorist attack: with absolute horror, but compelled to keep on.
Admittedly, it was a bit of an environment binge. I think I read the three books in a week (they're pretty short) and after that I had some kind of crisis which resulted in vomit, compulsive writing, anger, dread and a spot of depression. This had never happened to me before and it felt odd, to be reduced to being a bit of a nutter over the state of the planet. It is probably more normal to suffer like that over issues that are personal, rather than planetary. Possibly, it is a sign that I don't have enough to worry about in my mostly tidy life. More likely, it is a sign of the seriousness of what is going on out there, and a reason why most people don't like to think about it. I used to fall into that camp - I was just sort of hoping someone would invent something to remove CO2 from the air (oh, wait - that's a tree and in the last 50 years, 30% of the world's trees have been cut down), or that a volcano would erupt and reverse everything.
But those things haven't happened and they're probably not going to.
Our main hope is that there will be a surge of change and the world will eventually operate differently. One of the predictions for the future - somewhere around 2050 - is that as rural areas become less and less habitable (Cumbria, for instance, is already well on it way to that state), the vast majority of the world's population will live in super cities and any green spaces, such as on roundabouts or rooftops, will be given over to vegetable growing, so cities become self-sufficient. This is already happening in some places.
After my environmental crisis, the first thing I did was put my name down on the list for an allotment. I was mainly thinking of food miles, but I am now finding that all the issues of the environment are beautifully connected. Save on food miles by growing your own, and you reduce your plastic consumption. You also reduce the use of bee-killing pesticides. You can even do things to encourage bees, such as plant a patch of wildflowers.
I was given my allotment at the end of July. It needs a lot of work. This is it:
The crumble isn't looking its best because we ate it for breakfast. But it was lovely and litter-free.
I suppose I just think that if the future is all about sustainability, we might as well make it happen sooner rather than later. There is loads of space on my allotment. If you want a bed or two of your own, get in touch. You can have one.
Don't Even Think About It: Why Our Brains are Wired to Ignore Climate Change
Plastic Ocean
Storms of my Grandchildren: the Truth About the Coming Climate Catastrophe
I read them in much the same way that people watch the rolling news in the wake of a disaster or a terrorist attack: with absolute horror, but compelled to keep on.
Admittedly, it was a bit of an environment binge. I think I read the three books in a week (they're pretty short) and after that I had some kind of crisis which resulted in vomit, compulsive writing, anger, dread and a spot of depression. This had never happened to me before and it felt odd, to be reduced to being a bit of a nutter over the state of the planet. It is probably more normal to suffer like that over issues that are personal, rather than planetary. Possibly, it is a sign that I don't have enough to worry about in my mostly tidy life. More likely, it is a sign of the seriousness of what is going on out there, and a reason why most people don't like to think about it. I used to fall into that camp - I was just sort of hoping someone would invent something to remove CO2 from the air (oh, wait - that's a tree and in the last 50 years, 30% of the world's trees have been cut down), or that a volcano would erupt and reverse everything.
But those things haven't happened and they're probably not going to.
Our main hope is that there will be a surge of change and the world will eventually operate differently. One of the predictions for the future - somewhere around 2050 - is that as rural areas become less and less habitable (Cumbria, for instance, is already well on it way to that state), the vast majority of the world's population will live in super cities and any green spaces, such as on roundabouts or rooftops, will be given over to vegetable growing, so cities become self-sufficient. This is already happening in some places.
After my environmental crisis, the first thing I did was put my name down on the list for an allotment. I was mainly thinking of food miles, but I am now finding that all the issues of the environment are beautifully connected. Save on food miles by growing your own, and you reduce your plastic consumption. You also reduce the use of bee-killing pesticides. You can even do things to encourage bees, such as plant a patch of wildflowers.
I was given my allotment at the end of July. It needs a lot of work. This is it:
The crumble isn't looking its best because we ate it for breakfast. But it was lovely and litter-free.
I suppose I just think that if the future is all about sustainability, we might as well make it happen sooner rather than later. There is loads of space on my allotment. If you want a bed or two of your own, get in touch. You can have one.
Sunday 11 September 2016
Oxford
Yesterday, I went to Oxford to visit Rina, who runs the Community Refill Programme. She operates out of East Oxford Farmers' Market on a Saturday morning and it was encouraging to see that her stand was really, really busy with people who brought their containers and had them magically refilled. This is it:-
I can see you now, furrowing your brow and scratching your hairy chin and saying, 'But that's plastic.' It's true. That is plastic. But much like fat, plastic can be split into Good Plastic and Bad Plastic. Good Plastic is used to make stuff that needs to last for shitting ever, like Tupperware, kitchens and husbands. These sort of things, when constructed out of plastic, save on materials like wood, which means wildlife isn't vulnerable to destruction of habitat and they also require less carbon in the manufacturing process than, for example... something else *shameful knowledge failure*. Also, if you get a plastic husband with remote control, you can just get him to do stuff for you and not be annoying with all that fucking flu.
Bad Plastic is the stuff we use once or not for long, then dispose of, but which goes on to last for shitting ever, like bottled drinks, cosmetics, shampoo, carrier bags, cleaning products, take-out food containers, toothbrushes, toothpaste tubes, tablecloths, all sorts of packaging, every single one of my children's toys, loom bands (fucking loom bands), disposable cutlery, disposable nappies... Everything, really. You can't breathe for bad plastic.
So in the case of the community refill programme, this is all Good Plastic.
Anyway, I talked to Rina and setting up this sort of thing sounds pretty easy to me. I know, even as I type, that my mother will be reading this and saying, 'She's bloody mad. What's she even doing, thinking she can take this on? *AND* you know she took the children to forest school last week? She'll have moved them all to a mud hut the Amazon before long.' Yeah, well. Never let the fact that other people are slightly bemused by you hold you back, that's what I say.
So - and this is where I could really do with some input, if anyone wants to advise me - I need to start small. I thought I'd start with either food or tedious old cleaning products, then build up. I do, however, really, really want to stock olive oil from the outset because I have found a brand called The Lesbian Donkey and I know my well-being will be significantly increased if I am selling something called The Lesbian Donkey. Look. It's from the Greek island of Lesbos.
Anyway, the other thing I need to do is find somewhere from which to operate. I'm not much of a woman for standing around outside in the cold, though perhaps I would if I could also be shouting, 'Lesbian donkey! Lesbian donkey! Only two pounds a pint. Come and get your lesbian donkey!'
I can see you now, furrowing your brow and scratching your hairy chin and saying, 'But that's plastic.' It's true. That is plastic. But much like fat, plastic can be split into Good Plastic and Bad Plastic. Good Plastic is used to make stuff that needs to last for shitting ever, like Tupperware, kitchens and husbands. These sort of things, when constructed out of plastic, save on materials like wood, which means wildlife isn't vulnerable to destruction of habitat and they also require less carbon in the manufacturing process than, for example... something else *shameful knowledge failure*. Also, if you get a plastic husband with remote control, you can just get him to do stuff for you and not be annoying with all that fucking flu.
Bad Plastic is the stuff we use once or not for long, then dispose of, but which goes on to last for shitting ever, like bottled drinks, cosmetics, shampoo, carrier bags, cleaning products, take-out food containers, toothbrushes, toothpaste tubes, tablecloths, all sorts of packaging, every single one of my children's toys, loom bands (fucking loom bands), disposable cutlery, disposable nappies... Everything, really. You can't breathe for bad plastic.
So in the case of the community refill programme, this is all Good Plastic.
Anyway, I talked to Rina and setting up this sort of thing sounds pretty easy to me. I know, even as I type, that my mother will be reading this and saying, 'She's bloody mad. What's she even doing, thinking she can take this on? *AND* you know she took the children to forest school last week? She'll have moved them all to a mud hut the Amazon before long.' Yeah, well. Never let the fact that other people are slightly bemused by you hold you back, that's what I say.
So - and this is where I could really do with some input, if anyone wants to advise me - I need to start small. I thought I'd start with either food or tedious old cleaning products, then build up. I do, however, really, really want to stock olive oil from the outset because I have found a brand called The Lesbian Donkey and I know my well-being will be significantly increased if I am selling something called The Lesbian Donkey. Look. It's from the Greek island of Lesbos.
Anyway, the other thing I need to do is find somewhere from which to operate. I'm not much of a woman for standing around outside in the cold, though perhaps I would if I could also be shouting, 'Lesbian donkey! Lesbian donkey! Only two pounds a pint. Come and get your lesbian donkey!'
However, the location also needs to be really convenient for people because unless I make this easy for them, they're not going to use it. So somewhere central and cheap, that I can run on a Saturday morning. That's what I need, Hexham. Help.
Friday 9 September 2016
The Plastic Diet
Since giving up plastic, I have lost two pounds, which is about half the weight I gained over the summer on the grounds that looking after my children full-time can only be done on full-fat lattes and doughnuts (which makes me a poor role model but I make up for that by ensuring I always have a book tucked under my arm and at least once a day screaming *really loudly* that all I want is an hour now and then to do some fucking research, and hoping that my incredible work ethic will rub off).
The reason for this unpredicted weight loss is that I have had to cut out sweets, chocolate, ice cream and sugar because all of those things come wrapped in plastic. I have mostly cut out cheese as well because I keep forgetting to take my beeswax food wrap with me when I hit the high street. (Yes, I am aware how frightfully middle-class that sounds, but there's nothing I can do about that.)
My friend Rebecca, who has also been living without plastic for the last week, has had a similar experience with cash. She did her weekly supermarket shop and found that her bill was slashed from £100 to a mere snip at £45. She says, 'The reason for this is simple. There's pretty much fuck all to buy in a supermarket that doesn't involve plastic.'
However, she does add that Sainsbury's will put your cheese in your own tub if you ask them. They will also look at you as if you're completely mad when you explain why. 'It's a bit like how vegetarians felt in the '80s, when people would sponsor you to give up meat for a week or you'd be at a wedding reception buffet and they'd ask if you still eat potatoes.'
Here's hoping going without plastic in 30 years time is as mainstream as going without meat now is. Or even better, some sort of plastics revolution, with everything wrapped in biodegradable or edible plastic.
It is easy to feel bleak about the scale of this problem. Certainly, it is vast. Stiv Wilson, policy director of ocean conservation trust 5Gyres, says, 'There are no great estimates (at least scientific) on how much plastic is in the ocean, but I can say from firsthand knowledge that it’s so pervasive it confounds the senses. You want to know what a garbage patch looks like? Imagine the night sky on a cloudless, moonless night. Now replace the ocean surface with space, and the stars with plastic; it’s dispersed and it goes on infinitely. Humans have managed to create a problem on a degree of scale that’s nearly incomprehensible and completely overwhelming.' He argues that cleaning the oceans simply can't be done. The solution to the problem must begin on land.
Bugger.
I am no scientist or inventor, just a mortal who finds all this truly disturbing. Once I'd read the science and found out just how far we've gone in degrading the natural environment, I became very, very troubled by it. Thoughts of climate change, deforestation, wildlife loss, plastic oceans... All that stuff interrupted me as I went about my life. It disturbed me as I tried to concentrate on my work. It disturbed me as I watched the news and the state of the planet was almost never reported or, worse, trivialised or dismissed by individuals who think they know better than researchers who have devoted lifetimes to studying all this. It disturbs me now, to think about this awful, awful mess and what is to be done about it.
A friend of mine, a biodiversity scholar, said to me, 'Most people don't know about the extent of the environmental crisis and when they find out, they plunge from ignorance to despair. But there is another state, and that is action.'
This is why, in my entirely non-scientist status (I failed Science GCSE - truly I know nothing), I still want to support the Ocean Cleanup. I have this idea if at least some of plastic can be cleared, it will help. But I also absolutely agree that the true solution lies in ending plastic pollution, and that begins with cutting out all single-use plastic. And that is no easy task, but there is a way and luckily, Plastic Oceans is on it.
Tomorrow, I am heading to Oxford for the day to visit the people who set up the community refill station, in the hope that I can set one up where I live. Since booking my train ticket, I have been doubting the wisdom of this venture and much of my doubt has centred on this: What is the point, when the population of Hexham is about 10,000, only a few people will use it and the population of the world is close to 7 billion? It will make no difference.
But the solution to global problems lies at local level. If one community starts something, others will slowly follow until, one day far in the future, the days of single-use plastic will be behind us and the oceans will start to recover. They cannot recover while we carry on like this.
But in the meantime, David Attenborough remains moderately upbeat. That is, he at least sticks a question mark at the end of his documentary title, The Death of the Oceans?
I know it's the weekend, but watch it. It's good and remarkably hopeful.
The reason for this unpredicted weight loss is that I have had to cut out sweets, chocolate, ice cream and sugar because all of those things come wrapped in plastic. I have mostly cut out cheese as well because I keep forgetting to take my beeswax food wrap with me when I hit the high street. (Yes, I am aware how frightfully middle-class that sounds, but there's nothing I can do about that.)
My friend Rebecca, who has also been living without plastic for the last week, has had a similar experience with cash. She did her weekly supermarket shop and found that her bill was slashed from £100 to a mere snip at £45. She says, 'The reason for this is simple. There's pretty much fuck all to buy in a supermarket that doesn't involve plastic.'
However, she does add that Sainsbury's will put your cheese in your own tub if you ask them. They will also look at you as if you're completely mad when you explain why. 'It's a bit like how vegetarians felt in the '80s, when people would sponsor you to give up meat for a week or you'd be at a wedding reception buffet and they'd ask if you still eat potatoes.'
Here's hoping going without plastic in 30 years time is as mainstream as going without meat now is. Or even better, some sort of plastics revolution, with everything wrapped in biodegradable or edible plastic.
It is easy to feel bleak about the scale of this problem. Certainly, it is vast. Stiv Wilson, policy director of ocean conservation trust 5Gyres, says, 'There are no great estimates (at least scientific) on how much plastic is in the ocean, but I can say from firsthand knowledge that it’s so pervasive it confounds the senses. You want to know what a garbage patch looks like? Imagine the night sky on a cloudless, moonless night. Now replace the ocean surface with space, and the stars with plastic; it’s dispersed and it goes on infinitely. Humans have managed to create a problem on a degree of scale that’s nearly incomprehensible and completely overwhelming.' He argues that cleaning the oceans simply can't be done. The solution to the problem must begin on land.
Bugger.
I am no scientist or inventor, just a mortal who finds all this truly disturbing. Once I'd read the science and found out just how far we've gone in degrading the natural environment, I became very, very troubled by it. Thoughts of climate change, deforestation, wildlife loss, plastic oceans... All that stuff interrupted me as I went about my life. It disturbed me as I tried to concentrate on my work. It disturbed me as I watched the news and the state of the planet was almost never reported or, worse, trivialised or dismissed by individuals who think they know better than researchers who have devoted lifetimes to studying all this. It disturbs me now, to think about this awful, awful mess and what is to be done about it.
A friend of mine, a biodiversity scholar, said to me, 'Most people don't know about the extent of the environmental crisis and when they find out, they plunge from ignorance to despair. But there is another state, and that is action.'
This is why, in my entirely non-scientist status (I failed Science GCSE - truly I know nothing), I still want to support the Ocean Cleanup. I have this idea if at least some of plastic can be cleared, it will help. But I also absolutely agree that the true solution lies in ending plastic pollution, and that begins with cutting out all single-use plastic. And that is no easy task, but there is a way and luckily, Plastic Oceans is on it.
Tomorrow, I am heading to Oxford for the day to visit the people who set up the community refill station, in the hope that I can set one up where I live. Since booking my train ticket, I have been doubting the wisdom of this venture and much of my doubt has centred on this: What is the point, when the population of Hexham is about 10,000, only a few people will use it and the population of the world is close to 7 billion? It will make no difference.
But the solution to global problems lies at local level. If one community starts something, others will slowly follow until, one day far in the future, the days of single-use plastic will be behind us and the oceans will start to recover. They cannot recover while we carry on like this.
But in the meantime, David Attenborough remains moderately upbeat. That is, he at least sticks a question mark at the end of his documentary title, The Death of the Oceans?
I know it's the weekend, but watch it. It's good and remarkably hopeful.
Tuesday 6 September 2016
Back to School...
It was the first day of the school year today, and this is where I failed at plastic-free living. I reckon at least 50% of the plastic in the sea comes from children, most of it probably my children. Everything they have ever had is plastic. Plastic accumulates the minute you have a baby. Changing mats, nappies (oh, God - the nappies!), vaccinations delivered in a plastic syringe, toys that end up being lost half an hour after you bought them. Really, I can hardly bring myself to think of all those tiny Playmobil croissants, drifting around the Pacific, being ingested by tropical fish...
In general, I'm a pretty tight-fisted parent and try not to buy them too much stuff. Anything they do have usually comes from a charity shop these days because I have finally cottoned on to the idea that buying used is a good way of minimising consumption. (I am late to this particular party, I realise this.)
But anyway, they needed new school uniforms and they needed trainers and lunch bags and all that crap. This is the school uniform:
In general, I'm a pretty tight-fisted parent and try not to buy them too much stuff. Anything they do have usually comes from a charity shop these days because I have finally cottoned on to the idea that buying used is a good way of minimising consumption. (I am late to this particular party, I realise this.)
But anyway, they needed new school uniforms and they needed trainers and lunch bags and all that crap. This is the school uniform:
You can't see it very well, but the tags are attached with pieces of plastic. I bought something like fifteen items, all with plastic bits on them. There are around 400 children in our school. By my maths, that is... Well, I don't know exactly because when I try to add numbers together the air all around me turns grey and I want to die, but whatever, it is a whole lot of plastic bits just from one school.
But that is nothing compared to this monstrosity. Trainers for my daughter's PE lessons. Now, strictly speaking, this was not my failure, as I am not the one who bought these. If I had bought them, we'd have gone to a charity shop or some horrible supermarket and picked them up for a fiver. But her dad took her and he thought the law dictates that Every Pair of Children's Shoes in This Country Must Come from Clarks.
Anyway, she has taken them to school, so I can't show you the horrendous things themselves (they have a lot of pink and some weird monsters on them) but this is the box:
Gloforms. I have no idea, but I think they are a special type of trainer, directed particularly at the child consumer. Everything about them is bad. They are really bloody expensive, they have plastic strips on them that glow in the dark and they also have A FUCKING PLASTIC TOY IN THE HEEL.
Why does a child need a plastic toy in their shoe? Answer: THEY FUCKING DON'T.
And I can't show you the toy because guess what? She's fucking lost it already. This vile piece of completely unnecessary pink flashing plastic is making its way to the Pacific Ocean as we speak, where it will be eaten by a whale and the whale will end up washed up on a beach somewhere and after an autopsy it will be declared on the front page of every eco-magazine in the land that COMPLETELY SHIT PLASTIC TOY FROM CLARKS SHOE FOUND IN STOMACH OF DEAD BLUE WHALE.
I cannot bear it.
But on the bright side...
I bought her a new lunch bag from Boobalou. It contains no plastic. It is brilliant and she loves it.
She also took her ham roll (veggie ham - God, sorry, I'm so obnoxious) in a reusable baggie instead of clingfilm:
The lunch bag was £12 and the baggie £6. This is unfortunate. I admit that the plastic-free life has required quite an outlay, thus possibly reducing me to the stereotype of the smug, bourgeois environmental activist for whom it is easy to be green. However, it's an investment. The bags will last a while, longer than a roll of cling film. And the trouble with plastic is that we're so dependent on it because it is cheap. Nothing made of plastic costs very much (unless it is marketed by Disney - look at the original price of this crock of absolute shit), but in real terms, in global terms, it is costing us the earth.
Sunday 4 September 2016
Beachwatch
It's Sunday. I can't be bothered to blog.
I just wanted to let you know about Beachwatch's Big Weekend on September 16th-19th. Admittedly, not a Big Weekend like those back in the day, the ones that involved a slumping memory of some really bad behaviour, but a Big Weekend nonetheless.
It's the Great British Beach Clean. This can be as exciting as the bake-off, in so many ways. Hundreds of volunteers gather on a nearby beach and ... Well, they clean it. It is a well-known fact that many a single person has met the love of their life while picking old condoms out of the sand dunes, and you might too.
Click the link below, find your beach, join a team and clean it. The oceans need you.You'll be glad you did it.
http://www.mcsuk.org/beachwatch/volunteers
Newsflash
At the end of yesterday, the third day of this plastic-minimal life, we had reached £390 in sponsorship money. That is 39% of our £1,000 target. If supporters keep supporting us at this rate, we could double our target by the end of the month. You never know.
So we have decided to add another charity, to which we will donate all money raised beyond the £1,000 target.
The charity is Plastic Oceans, which aims to become part of the solution to ridding the ocean of plastic by changing the world's attitude to plastic within one generation. They are working with consumers, manufacturers and retailers to influence collective actions that lead to policy change.
They might be more effective even than my letters to Boots, Clinique and Waitrose...
So we have decided to add another charity, to which we will donate all money raised beyond the £1,000 target.
The charity is Plastic Oceans, which aims to become part of the solution to ridding the ocean of plastic by changing the world's attitude to plastic within one generation. They are working with consumers, manufacturers and retailers to influence collective actions that lead to policy change.
They might be more effective even than my letters to Boots, Clinique and Waitrose...
Saturday 3 September 2016
On the third day...
... I cleaned the house and went to a barbeque. And posted a video about plastic in the ocean that no one will have watched for more than two minutes because it is depressing and awful.
All cleaning products come in plastic bottles. All of them. Every single one. Apart from bicarbonate of soda. So that is what I cleaned my house with today. It's actually pretty effective. Two years ago, I painted some furniture in the dining room and managed to splash a lot of blue paint on the chairs. Until now, nothing has been able to remove the paint, but I am happy to report that the bicarbonate of soda was just the ticket.
I was a little dubious, however, about (a) the ability of the product usually used to make scones to kill the germs in my bathroom or (b) the goodness of a scone if it is, in fact, made with a product that can kill germs in the bathroom.
Assuming that (a) was the scenario to be most concerned about, I also threw some boiling water and white vinegar round the house. It's pretty clean and no one has died, so I guess it works. So there it is. A plastic-free house cleanse. If you would like to make your own cleaning products out of bicarbonate of soda and vinegar, you can find them here.
This afternoon, our Go Local farm had a summer barbeque. This is the farm where we buy our veg. It comes in a cardboard box and if you're a bit skint, you can pick veg one afternoon a week and get paid in veg. Everything about this place is good.
Anyway, it was raining, but we put on our wellies (wellies are ok, being reusable) and sat around in a shed eating sausages and halloumi and vegetable skewers, and listening to people who were talking about developing green technologies in Northumberland and uttering phrases like, 'Think global, act local' and the kids went off to find tomatoes. Then there was an auction of potted flowers (max bid £3.75) and jugs of local cider (£4.50) and it felt a lot like being in the Archers.
But I forgot to take my water bottle with me and every drinking vessel was plastic. So I went thirsty. And that was a bit rubbish.
So day three has been sort-of hard, but only because I forgot my reusable drinking vessel. If I had remembered it, it would have been absolutely fine. And that, friends, is the future. Or at least, it needs to be the future. It will be the future if Waitrose and Tesco respond to my letters properly. Remember the reusable and everything will be fine.
All cleaning products come in plastic bottles. All of them. Every single one. Apart from bicarbonate of soda. So that is what I cleaned my house with today. It's actually pretty effective. Two years ago, I painted some furniture in the dining room and managed to splash a lot of blue paint on the chairs. Until now, nothing has been able to remove the paint, but I am happy to report that the bicarbonate of soda was just the ticket.
I was a little dubious, however, about (a) the ability of the product usually used to make scones to kill the germs in my bathroom or (b) the goodness of a scone if it is, in fact, made with a product that can kill germs in the bathroom.
Assuming that (a) was the scenario to be most concerned about, I also threw some boiling water and white vinegar round the house. It's pretty clean and no one has died, so I guess it works. So there it is. A plastic-free house cleanse. If you would like to make your own cleaning products out of bicarbonate of soda and vinegar, you can find them here.
This afternoon, our Go Local farm had a summer barbeque. This is the farm where we buy our veg. It comes in a cardboard box and if you're a bit skint, you can pick veg one afternoon a week and get paid in veg. Everything about this place is good.
Anyway, it was raining, but we put on our wellies (wellies are ok, being reusable) and sat around in a shed eating sausages and halloumi and vegetable skewers, and listening to people who were talking about developing green technologies in Northumberland and uttering phrases like, 'Think global, act local' and the kids went off to find tomatoes. Then there was an auction of potted flowers (max bid £3.75) and jugs of local cider (£4.50) and it felt a lot like being in the Archers.
But I forgot to take my water bottle with me and every drinking vessel was plastic. So I went thirsty. And that was a bit rubbish.
So day three has been sort-of hard, but only because I forgot my reusable drinking vessel. If I had remembered it, it would have been absolutely fine. And that, friends, is the future. Or at least, it needs to be the future. It will be the future if Waitrose and Tesco respond to my letters properly. Remember the reusable and everything will be fine.
Scientists visit the Great Pacific Garbage Patch
Here is a ten-minute video, in which a scientist visits the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, saying 'It needs to be burned into the consciousness of everyone that the ocean is now a plastic wasteland.'
Friday 2 September 2016
Highlights and lowlights of a second day without plastic.
Day two.
The high points: my lovely, sweet-smelling beeswax food wrap. I cannot tell you how great this is. It works just like cling film but it feels so good. It's like when you eat a freshly-picked raspberry or a spoonful of brown rice steamed in tropical mountain mist and you can actually feel it working wonders on your insides. It's like that, but multiplied to planetary proportions. Seriously, I wrapped my leftover lunch in this shit and I could literally feel the planet being nourished by it.
The other good thing is that I cooked my children a litter-free tea. Pizza, made from homemade bread, tomato puree and cheese I bought from the local deli (wrapped in paper). It took less time than heating up a ready-made one from Waitrose, though admittedly that's probably because I got fed up and took it out before the cheese had melted. But still, here it is in all its glorious blandness: Pizza Margherita sans Plastic.
The high points: my lovely, sweet-smelling beeswax food wrap. I cannot tell you how great this is. It works just like cling film but it feels so good. It's like when you eat a freshly-picked raspberry or a spoonful of brown rice steamed in tropical mountain mist and you can actually feel it working wonders on your insides. It's like that, but multiplied to planetary proportions. Seriously, I wrapped my leftover lunch in this shit and I could literally feel the planet being nourished by it.
The other high point was the delivery of four pints of milk in glass bottles. I lined them up in the fridge and all my nostalgia for a time when I didn't even exist was satisfied. Look at that. I have captured the spirit of the 70s in my own fridge.
The low point: clay-based, no-fluoride, peppermint and wintergreen toothpaste. I have no idea what wintergreen is, but this toothpaste tastes like bumholes. (I used to live in Brighton, in the days when bohemia and misconduct ruled and you had to know what bumholes tasted like just to gain access to the beach after dark.)
The other good thing is that I cooked my children a litter-free tea. Pizza, made from homemade bread, tomato puree and cheese I bought from the local deli (wrapped in paper). It took less time than heating up a ready-made one from Waitrose, though admittedly that's probably because I got fed up and took it out before the cheese had melted. But still, here it is in all its glorious blandness: Pizza Margherita sans Plastic.
Thursday 1 September 2016
One bottle at a time...
Today is my first day of living for a month without plastic and two exciting things happened. First, I had a lovely delivery from Boobalou, a company that supplies reusable everythings from toothbrushes, to kitchen roll to baby bowls. I admit that when I was a new mother, if I'd met someone who had her shit together enough that she could actually think beyond the next breastfeed to the state of the oceans and how to save them and therefore fed her baby with bamboo cutlery, then I probably would have slapped her one. However, I am less exhausted than I was back then and thus less prone to violence, so I'm now kind of in favour of the bamboo baby in reusable nappies. (I tried reusable nappies on my daughter. I lasted about a month.)
These are the contents of the package: reusable foodwrap, a bamboo toothbrush, reusable sandwich bag, bamboo cotton buds and some very dubious-looking clay-based toothpaste designed for people who live in the forest and bring up their children by a mountain stream. But never mind about that.
The other thing that happened was this. I wear make-up. Quite a lot of make-up. I like make-up. I look better in make-up than I do bare-faced. It is an act of altruism not to inflict my bare face upon the small town where I live. Anyway, I have not been able to source make-up that doesn't come in plastic packaging (though I'm sure it must exist), so after I got ready this morning, I wrote letters to Clinique and Boots and asked them to tell me their long-term plans for reducing their plastic packaging and also asked when they plan to implement a refill programme, which would allow their customers to buy only one container for each product and return it to be refilled when they've finished with it. This is how shops used to work, in the olden days before plastic. It was life. People coped with it. People would cope with it again because the great thing about people is that they get used to stuff.
So anyway, then I decided to write to Waitrose because the reality of the plastics crisis is that it was caused by and can therefore be repaired by supermarkets. Supermarkets wrap absolutely everything in plastic. I wish they would stop doing this. If enough people tell them to stop doing this because the world will end if they don't, then they will probably stop doing this.
In the meantime, however, we need to go local. In Oxford, there exists a Community Refill Programme. It is run by two young women who source huge bags of foodstuffs and household cleaning products and operate from the farmers' market. Customers take their containers on a Saturday, have them refilled, and a little less plastic ends up in the sea. Magic.
So I emailed the two young women and asked how they did it because I'd like to set this up in Hexham, where I live. They have invited me to Oxford to see how it's done and have even offered accommodation so I can (a) visit their pop-up shop and (b) talk for a long time about how to do it.
So that's what I'm going to do. A Community Refill Programme is on its way to Hexham. Don't wet your pants with excitement now, but watch this space...
These are the contents of the package: reusable foodwrap, a bamboo toothbrush, reusable sandwich bag, bamboo cotton buds and some very dubious-looking clay-based toothpaste designed for people who live in the forest and bring up their children by a mountain stream. But never mind about that.
The other thing that happened was this. I wear make-up. Quite a lot of make-up. I like make-up. I look better in make-up than I do bare-faced. It is an act of altruism not to inflict my bare face upon the small town where I live. Anyway, I have not been able to source make-up that doesn't come in plastic packaging (though I'm sure it must exist), so after I got ready this morning, I wrote letters to Clinique and Boots and asked them to tell me their long-term plans for reducing their plastic packaging and also asked when they plan to implement a refill programme, which would allow their customers to buy only one container for each product and return it to be refilled when they've finished with it. This is how shops used to work, in the olden days before plastic. It was life. People coped with it. People would cope with it again because the great thing about people is that they get used to stuff.
So anyway, then I decided to write to Waitrose because the reality of the plastics crisis is that it was caused by and can therefore be repaired by supermarkets. Supermarkets wrap absolutely everything in plastic. I wish they would stop doing this. If enough people tell them to stop doing this because the world will end if they don't, then they will probably stop doing this.
In the meantime, however, we need to go local. In Oxford, there exists a Community Refill Programme. It is run by two young women who source huge bags of foodstuffs and household cleaning products and operate from the farmers' market. Customers take their containers on a Saturday, have them refilled, and a little less plastic ends up in the sea. Magic.
So I emailed the two young women and asked how they did it because I'd like to set this up in Hexham, where I live. They have invited me to Oxford to see how it's done and have even offered accommodation so I can (a) visit their pop-up shop and (b) talk for a long time about how to do it.
So that's what I'm going to do. A Community Refill Programme is on its way to Hexham. Don't wet your pants with excitement now, but watch this space...
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