Recycling is cool, and I get a frisson of virtue every time I empty a trash can full of junk mail into my recycle bin, but the whole idea of not bothering to Reduce and Reuse bugs the heck out of me. Especially since Recycling isn't a panacea (and has, as the article notes, its own problems).
So, yeah, it's cool that you recycle those disposable plastic water bottles. But why not refill them? Or, better yet, get a sturdy water bottle and just refill that? #ddtb
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Reduce, Reuse, Recycle
That was the mantra of the environmental movement in the 1970s and 1980s when we as a nation learned not to litter and that we shouldn’t throw everything away. Of course, we still aren’t very good at it (and see Coca-Cola vetoing the National Park Service’s decision to ban disposable water bottles in the Grand Canyon for evidence).
Out of these three options, we’ve chosen the latter. Reduce, please. We’re Americans. We don’t fucking reduce. Reuse, what a pain.
So we recycle. It’s great. I can…
Here comes my epic:
I have 3 very large “coldsacks” from Trader Joe’s, and at least a dozen canvas sacks in my car for shopping–and not just for groceries. Most of the canvas sacks are structured like the beach totes from Land’s End/LLBean–they last longer, and are more useful if: there is an extra layer on the squared off bottom, they can stand up on their own while being filled, the straps go over your shoulder AND all the way to the bottom. You can get plain ones for a good price at dharmatrading.com, a fiberarts supplier, along with some other useful shopping items. Dharma has lots of “blanks” for dyers, crafters, and other artists, mostly in cotton, rayon, and a few in silk.
In 1990, living in a “stairmaster with a view” with an incredibly badly-laid curving sloping driveway as long as the house was tall, I didn’t want to take anything more than I had to, down to the marginal shoulder, to be collected on trash day. Between reduction of packaging, and recycling every blasted thing the county would take, I had a small bin to take down once every 3-5 weeks. The recycling went in the car to a scrap metal/recycler, where I got better money for my materials, esp. if I had larger amounts.
I did buy in bulk, carrying my own containers, glass and plastic, to be filled at the bulk section of the “health food” stores. I learned about tare weight, and put each container’s TW on a label, where I also put the date, the ingredient, and its SKU. I couldn’t always buy flours in bulk, but I had buckets which could hold about 30 lbs of flour–and I was baking more then. In Indian spice shops and groceries, I was in heaven–the spice prices were lower, and they expected you to have your own containers, or buy smaller amounts in sealed bags that could be put into your own containers later.
We each have different storage capacities for buying in bulk for larger volume items, and for storing recyclables until we take them in. Also, each city/county/region will have different contracts with their waste management cos.–I learned this when I volunteered at a regional ecology agency. I learned from them as much as they learned from me, they said, when I had to stop.
One of my troupe sisters showed me her collapsible containers for take-out and restaurant leftovers, so I bought a few for my own use. Those stay in my car, in a canvas sack, and I can put filled containers in another canvas sack. When I was able to sit a while for breakfast, I brought my own hand-thrown mug for my drink, and the staff came to know the mug and what went in it. These days, I have an insulated 20 oz. travel mug with a wide base that will sit on the fold-out table in my van. I get about a pint of milk each time I have a latte. We also have insulated clear 16 oz coldcups with straws which we take with us when we’re taking it away, and sometimes when we’re eating in. Our local Starbucks (and a few others!) recognize the cups and remember the usual contents. In fact, when I was under “house arrest” while recovering from the foot surgery, Kurt or Arthur would take in the mug, and get asked how I was doing–and fill the mug, without my guys necessarily needing to know the drink order.
On those now rare occasions when I get down to San Diego, to DZ Akins’ bakery, I order 24 poppyseed hamantaschen, which they make year-round, inform them my own container will be coming to get filled, and we’re both happy. The cookies stay fresher in that container, just as the berries from the farmers’ market do in one. I disocovered one week that in addition to fewer berries damaged from the plastic boxes, they were safer going home, couldn’t fall out of the box, I had nothing more to do when I got home, and the berries last longer.
In the Soc. for Creative Anachronism and at Renaissance Faires, participants have their own cutlery, cup/mug/goblet, plate and bowl for food–and often table linens to avoid out-of-period paper napkins. I have mine from when I was more active in those pursuits. I can use those at non-house potlucks. We have sturdy, pretty plastic ware for our parties that we wash and reuse. We do tend to use paper napkins for those events, though: we haven’t got storage for 30 cloth napkins. Our religious tradition has potlucks after public sabbats, and one priestess has just suggested we have our own “mess kits”. I’ve got mine–I just have to outfit the other three.
Then the Ks have a whole part of their garage for bowls & plates, glassware, flatware, napkins, and servingware, because they do throw large parties at least four times a year, as well as a major highly-organized weeklong camping trip with about 30 folks, each year.
You don’t have to do this all at once–I certainly didn’t, nor could I have. Bit by bit, add a new habit, and after a couple of years, the change may be complete wiht little effort.