Feeling More Blue Than Green

       My resolution this month made me irritated. Sure, I made some changes and improvements. I will keep on using less toilet paper. I will continue to buy large sizes of manufactured products, to save on packaging and transportation expenses. I will continue to try to do without bags at stores. I will keep my compact fluorescent bulbs in my lamps, and I will dispose of them properly when the time comes. I will start to turn out lights again, the way we did back in the 70s, when we were all reeling from an energy shortage. (Whatever happened to that, by the way? Did we stop caring about waste when energy became plentiful again?)
       But at the same time, so much of being green seems like the newest fad, with everyone claiming to be doing something. Companies professing to be eco-conscious are perhaps simply trying to make more money off consumers who care. Ideas are suggested which, in some cases, range from stupid to simply symbolic. Ineffective products are created and sold and ultimately, may turn frustrated consumers away.
       Even worse, I can’t help but wonder if individuals are being co-opted into making these tiny personal changes when corporations continue to strain the environment? Is the green movement, at the consumer level at least, largely a grand diversion?
       I’ll continue to do my part after this month ends, in the hope it serves some small purpose. And I’ll continue searching for new ideas and effective solutions.
       But I don’t feel that good about it. In fact, I feel almost polluted.

Random Irritations

       Saturday night, communities around the world turned out their lights for one hour. This "Earth Hour" devised by the World Wildlife Fund, was designed to draw attention to global climate change.  But isn't turning out lights for only one hour just a rather insignificant act of symbolism? Yet so much press attention was directed toward this rather silly accomplishment. Why not turn off lights every night, and for more than one hour?  Wouldn't that go some distance toward actually helping the environment, instead of just talking about it?

       I turned off most of the lights in our home Saturday night and left them off. I had on only enough to let us find our way around, and it was fine. We were watching movies on television, and Tom didn't even seem to notice what I had done.  It was ridiculously easy, and I think I'll keep on doing it. 

       Why not make a global campaign out of that?

       I picked up Tom's suit from the dry cleaner today and saw that I was charged a $0.35 "enviro" fee.  I know that dry cleaning chemicals are bad for the environment, and was curious to see what my dry cleaner might be doing with this fee to help clean up or prevent any toxic waste.  Their web site simply said that they "obey the letter of the law".  So what is my fee for? According to the web site, it's to cover their costs in complying with the law. Isn't that simply part of their cost of doing business? I mean, I pay for my cleaning; they pay their expenses; and, what they're left with is profit. If I'm paying an extra fee, I want to see them doing something extra!

       To punish them, and do my part for the environment, this afternoon I brought them every excess wire hanger I could find in our home. I hope they re-use them, as also promised on their web site.

       My recycled paper towels have not held up as well as hoped. They are nearly useless, for instance, for picking up dog vomit (a fact of life for dog lovers), cleaning up spilled liquids, or draining off excess fat from fried food. On such occasions, I first used my Marcal towels and then dug out my old Viva towels to finish the job -- meaning I was using twice the product I did before.  I think I'll return to my Viva, and use the remaining Marcal mostly for cleaning glass and countertops. But as it's probably better for the environment to use cloths for this purpose, I don't think I'll buy the recycled product again. 

       I was planning to at least praise Viva (and Marcal) for manufacturing select-a-size sheets of paper towels, so that one can use as little as one needs for any purpose. But a friend told me that when she uses such paper towels, she often ends up accidentally tearing off three of these smaller sheets, rather than the two that would approximate one regular-size sheet. So she thinks it's a scam to make consumers use more. 

       I was going to try some non-phosphate dishwasher detergent, until I read that in states where phosphate-based detergents are banned, people sometimes smuggle in Cascade or Electrosol because the eco-friendly varieties don't work.  We have put humans on the moon; we can conduct surgery through tiny holes; we are unwinding the mysteries of the human genome. Is it really so much more difficult to make eco-friendly products that work?

A Daily Laugh

       As part of my attempt to be green, I have been buying ever-bigger sizes of items frequently used in our home.  One of my purchases has been a massive bottle of Tom's shampoo. The bottle is so big that it's a little hard to pick it up in one hand, especially when that hand (and/or the bottle) is wet. 

       So every day, Tom drops the bottle in the shower.

       And every time it happens, I hear him yell at least one of colorful array of swear words.

       And every day, it makes me laugh.  

       Is that bad?

Paying Attention

       Sometimes, we just don't pay attention. We hear or see something so many times that we don't even notice anymore. And then, one day, it may suddenly break through our consciousness. That's what happened to me the other day when I was shopping and the cashier asked me "Do you want a bag for that?"
       In the past, I have always wanted a bag "for that". Isn't that an integral part of the whole shopping experience? You buy something and to demonstrate that it now belongs to you, it is placed in a bag and handed to you. Is that not part of the triumph of shopping?
       But because I am trying to turn green this month, I found myself stammering, "Uh...uh...uh...I guess not." And I walked out of Petsmart carrying a bag of dog treats in my hand. I placed it in my car, unbagged, and it seemed okay somehow. Next, I went to a mall to pick up a box of contact lenses Tom had ordered, and the person at the desk asked, "Do you want a bag for that?" I looked at my purse, which while not huge, looked like it would hold the lenses, and again I replied, "I guess not."
       Then I went to a clothing store, where the only thing I wanted was a plain white T-shirt. When the cashier started to put it in a bag, I told her I didn't need one, because I was trying to go green. "That's cool," she said, handing me the shirt. And I did feel cool, until I started to feel nervous about walking out of a store with a white T-shirt grasped in my hand. I was waiting to be accosted by a store security guard, but it didn't happen.
       When I got to my car, I had to find somewhere clean to place the T-shirt, which was a bit difficult since I haven't applied any of Martha Stewart's advice to my car interior. But the shirt made it home relatively clean and unscathed.
       And I was amazed that I had avoided accepting three bags in such a short time. And somehow I still not only owned the items, I also hadn't been arrested.
       I even felt a little good about it...for a few mintues. And then I realized that these same cashiers, or cashiers like them, had been asking me, perhaps for years, if I wanted bags with my purchases. And for the first day, I had given an environmentally-appropriate response. It's hardly something to be proud of.
       And when I think about it now, I have consistently ignored other green suggestions. For instance, cards placed in hotel rooms say that in order to save water and detergent and labor and power, the hotel proposes to not change my sheets every day, unless I place the card on my bed to signify otherwise. And I often do place that card because isn't a fresh, perfectly-made bed part of what I'm paying for? Well...no more. The hotels make these suggestions to try to be greener, and from now on, I'm taking them up on it.
       And what about ATM machines that ask if I want a receipt? I always press the "yes" button. That way, not only do I have proof of my transaction if I don't lose or misplace the slip, I also have some paper to add to my home clutter. How much paper could be saved by simply answering "no" to receipts instead of yes?
       I'm going to pay closer attention now to these suggestions. They are being made for a reason. And it's time for me to respond reasonably...and greenly.

Another Arf-ul idea

       I was glancing through David de Rothschild's "Global Warming Survival Handbook" and discovered another really bad idea for being green with one's dog.  

       He says that since paper can be recycled only 3 - 5 times before the pulp breaks down, recycling is just a way to delay paper's ultimate trip to the landfill. So, in an attempt to think of alternate ways to get more out of old newspapers, he came up with  this doozy -- using newspaper to pick up dog poop deposited by your dog.  

       This is a sure sign that de Rothschild has never picked up dog poop in his life. Perhaps one of the benefits of being a multi-millionaire adventurer is that your servants pick up the poop.  

       As much as I love her, I can think of only a couple of ways I would use newspaper to pick up Olympia's deposits.  One way would be to wear a plastic bag on my hand to attempt to pick up the poop. Then, assuming I was able to actually pick up anything, I'd have to have a second plastic bag on hand in which to immediately deposit both the poopy paper and the plastic bag I was using as a glove. That means I'd need two plastic bags per deposit, rather than the one I currently use. 

       The second way would require a lot of newspaper.  I could use the entire classified ads section to pick up each poop, using the sports section and the business section together to first sweep the poop into the pile of paper. And then to be sure my prize doesn't...um...soak through in my hand, I could then wrap all three sections in more newspaper. And to make sure nothing spills out, I could then apply a bunch of duct tape to keep it closed. And then I could put the whole package in a really big plastic bag before depositing it in the trash.

       Either way, it doesn't seem like a good move for the environment. 

Recycling toilet paper rolls - Doggie Style

       Who knew there was so much one could write about toilet paper?  This will be my last posting on the topic, I promise.

        On the topic of using fewer sheets, however, I found myself coming to the end of a roll last night. While I might ordinarily just have used up the roll (and put in a new one) at my next sitting, this time, when I counted my squares, the end of the roll actually lasted a few visits more.  Amazing.

        And when I came to the bare cardboard tube this morning, I remembered a suggestion a friend had for re-using, or recycling, the cardboard tube.  She had read of an idea for turning them into a dog toy!  

       Apparently you can put some small treats inside the cardboard tube, and then fold over the edges of the tube to close the treats inside. Reportedly, it can be a fun challenge for a dog to get at the treats.

       Here's what happened when I tried it.  

       Olympia sniffed at the roll for a second, immediately determining that there were, in fact, treats inside. Then, she placed a paw over one end of the tube (to hold it still) and bit off the entire other end.  Next, she picked up the remaining length of the tube in her teeth (from the closed end) and cocking her head slightly, dumped out the treats onto the floor...and ate them.  Then (I swear), she rolled her eyes at me, and walked away -- leaving me to clean up the remnants of the toilet paper roll.  

       It just goes to show that not all recycling ideas are worthwhile. For more, and hopefully better ideas on being green with your dog, check out this web site - raiseagreendog.com

Counting Sheets

       A regular follower of this blog suggested (see Comments to "Viva My Viva" posting) that she has made so many tree-saving choices in her home that she simply accepts the use of non-recycled toilet paper. She, for instance, uses cloth handkerchiefs and napkins, and knits her own dishcloths. She wrote: "It's been a fun adventure seeing how little changes have resulted in big savings, less waste, and less effort. Plus I have loads more storage space because I don't have shelves full of paper towels, napkins, & tissues!"
       I have the greatest admiration for her, and thank her for her participation in this blog.  Sadly, I’m not sure I’ll ever go as far as she does – not only because the idea of washing snotty handkerchiefs makes me gag (sorry!), but also because knitting has consistently turned out to be far beyond my abilities.
       I do have one other way, however, to be more green while still using my Charmin. I have started to count the sheets of toilet paper I’m using, to be sure I’m not over-extending. 

       Previously, I had a laissez-faire approach to toilet paper use – taking whatever number of sheets unrolled when I reached over for the toilet paper. I’m sure I used six or seven sheets at a time -- or even more. When I think back on it, I recall that sometimes I wouldn’t even (ahem...) engage all the sheets I took off, and simply tossed a superfluous four or five sheets into the toilet -- the unused inches fluttering in as if part of a ticker-tape parade.  

       But now that I’m forcing myself to be more aware, I’m down to three or four sheets per reach -- saving trees, in a way, with every wipe.
       According to the President of Toilet Paper World, this is one of the advantages of a toilet paper like Charmin. “You can save money because you can use far less..." he said.  Saving money and the environment sounds even better to me.
       It’s not the one-sheet per visit limitation proposed (jokingly, I hope) by Sheryl Crow in 2007.
       But I do think of it as being a real contribution to being green, while still being clean. (Comedians, commentators and bloggers had a ball with Crow's suggestion, even warning not to shake hands with her.) 

       And I expect that before long, my new shorter grab will become a habit. Readers, try it yourself, and maybe we all can help, at least one or two sheets at a time.

Independence Day, Part 2: The Charmin Difference

       To sum up my last entry, our Independence Day celebration in Philadelphia had been, literally, a taste of hell. Sure, the parade had been good, but since then, it had pretty much been heat without respite -- the melting asphalt under us reflecting it back to our blistering skin. By the time evening started to fall, and we found ourselves in a long, snaking line, it was clear that Dante knew what he was writing about. I’m not sure we even knew what the line was for, but we were too weak to care, or ask, or step out of it.
       We were not speaking to each other at this point – too tired, or too beaten down by the heat to say anything. At least that meant we weren’t blaming each other for the miserable day. Or perhaps we still liked each other too much for that.
       I can’t remember much about standing in line, but I think we shuffled along it for close to an hour. Tom occasionally waved a paper program of the day’s events at me, trying to fan some air in my direction.
       I don’t even remember how or when I got into a tiny private bathroom. All I remember is relieving myself, automatically, and then realizing that air conditioning was blowing on me. And gentle music was playing. And the room smelled fresh and clean. And soft, soft toilet paper was hanging from the wall. And the toilet paper hadn’t wilted in the humidity. It was cool and dry and soft. I started to get up, and then looking around at the cool blue walls, I sat down again on the toilet. And I let the air conditioning blow on me some more. 

       After a while, I revived further and noticed that the bathroom door in front of me was imprinted with a Charmin logo. I rested my head on the toilet paper roll beside me. And after maybe five minutes in the cool, cool air, I stood up in my little private bathroom and found a spotless sink and a spotless faucet that poured cool, cool, water into my hands.
       At this point, my brain started to function a bit. I grabbed handfuls of Charmin, wet them in the cool, cool water and sponged off my face, neck and arms. And then I let the delicious air conditioning dry me off.
       When I came out, I could see that there were perhaps 15 personal Charmin bathrooms lined up on a trailer. And off to the side, I saw Tom and David beaming at me – also cooler, fresher, glowing and revived. It was, as Tom put it, the greatest “brand experience” any of us had ever had.
       As we walked away, it seemed that a breeze was blowing and that the air was considerably cooler. A band started to play and our Independence Day celebration finally took on the air of a party. The fireworks that night were fantastic – the best I had ever seen. And I can’t help but feel that the joy we had that evening was all due to Charmin.
       Since then, I have made a point of using Charmin Ultra Soft – both out of gratitude and because it is, in fact, Ultra Soft.
       And environmental concerns or not, I'll gladly keep on using it.

Independence Day

       I did a good thing for the environment today. I had a company come to do cleaning and maintenance on our air conditioning system, hopefully ensuring that the air conditioner will be both more effective and more energy efficient throughout the summer.
       I had expected to have made other improvements this week, including a change to recycled toilet paper (not toilet paper which has been recycled, mind you, but toilet paper made from recycled paper products). Indeed, I have asked readers a few times for a recommendation for a recycled toilet paper. To date, however, I have not received word of a single acceptable product. 

       And to be honest, that’s okay with me. The fact is that I am a Charmin devotee.
       Certain dates in my adult life have been indelibly imprinted on my memory. I remember perfectly, for instance, the day I met Tom, the day we got engaged, our wedding day, the day we bought our current home and the day Olympia joined our family.
        And I remember the day Charmin toilet tissue made its first beautiful, fresh, glowing appearance in my life. It was July 4, 2002. 

        Tom and I had decided to join my oldest brother, David, for an Independence Day celebration in Philadelphia. Philadelphia is known for putting on a great July 4 party. Some have equated it with New Year’s Eve in New York City. We planned to watch a parade, listen to music and entertainment and attend the late night fireworks. And because Tom can’t stand being late for anything, we left our hotel long before the parade started and began eleven sweltering hours in nearly lethal Philadelphia heat.
       It was maybe 95 degrees Fahrenheit, with 90 per cent humidity, and not enough of a breeze to lift the thousands of starred-and-striped flags drooping everywhere. Even so, it might not have been so bad if not for the fact that the main part of the Independence Day event was taking place, as it does every year, on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway leading up to the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
        In case there is any confusion, this parkway has little to with parkland – grass, shade trees and ponds. Rather, it is a broad, long, paved road – covered in black asphalt, already softening that day in the summer sun. Celebrants had been advised to come early to “claim their spots” on the parkway. So we obediently laid a blanket out on the blistering pavement. We couldn’t sit on the blanket, however, as the heat rising from the street was too much to bear. Instead, we spent hours wandering the area, waiting for the headline acts to begin.
       It would not be a great day for the environment. As the day progressed, a vast quantity of litter was dropped by the nearly comatose attendees. The event itself was sponsored by Sunoco, which two years earlier, had spilled 200,000 gallons of oil into a nearby wildlife refuge. The fireworks, likely propelled by gunpowder, would later rain toxic pollution over the city.  And Tom, David and I, in a losing battle against dehydration, drank bottle after bottle of lemonade and water. At the end of the evening, we would have over a dozen plastic bottles to add to the nation’s landfill…and we had already thrown out many others over the course of the day. And remember that we were only three of hundreds of thousands of people in attendance.
       Our dehydration luckily meant that we had no need for a toilet for several hours. But in the early evening, as the air cooled by a degree or two, we decided to seek out a place to relieve ourselves. The stinking porta-pottys drove us away before we could get close. We tried entering into a nearby museum or two to use their facilities, but found all doors closed. 

       Eventually, a city worker waved us into a long, snaking line…  (to be continued)

Switching Light Bulbs

       In another attempt to go green, I have now switched many of my light bulbs to compact fluorescent light (CFL) bulbs. Reportedly, these bulbs use significantly less energy (up to 80% less than incandescent bulbs), not only helping the environment, but also passing on energy cost savings to consumers. They are also said to last as long as nine years per bulb, saving on bulb replacement costs.
       It is said that if every American home replaced just one light bulb with an Energy Star CFL bulb, enough energy would be saved to light more than 3 million homes for a year, greenhouse gas emissions would be significantly reduced, and more than $600 million in annual energy costs would be saved
       We were already using the bulbs in a couple of places, meaning that we were perhaps already doing our part to reduce energy usage. But maybe it didn’t really count, because we had not changed the bulbs in order to be green.  Rather, we had done it because some of our lighting fixtures are rather difficult to get at, and it was appealing to think we might be able to wait nine years before having to drag out the ladders to change the bulbs again. Can one be green without intent?
       To prove my true determination to help the environment, a few days ago I made a switch in some of our other lighting fixtures, including two five-light-bulb lamps which had previously held only 40 watt incandescent bulbs. The resulting light is bright and a bit harsh – certainly brighter than before. But Tom and I like it, since the lamps finally seem to be doing what they were designed for – providing light. Indeed, the re-bulbed lamps now have made additional lamps unnecessary in two of our rooms, saving still more in energy use and costs.
       This change is one of the very “in” ways to go green. Indeed, the swirled fluorescent bulb has become something of a symbol of the green movement.
       I do have some concerns, however. As pointed out by a poster to this blog a few days ago, the bulbs contain a small amount of mercury. While some argue that the amounts of mercury involved are insignificant, others argue that the lightbulbs are “about as good for the environment as a toxic chemical spill”.
       Indeed, these bulbs are not to be simply thrown in the trash where they will become part of our landfills. They are supposed to be disposed of at special depots, similar to other hazardous chemicals. When the time comes, I will be willing to go through the extra effort of disposing of the bulbs properly, but do worry that not everyone will go the extra mile(s) to do so.
       And I am troubled as well to hear that other bulbs are being developed which might not contain the mercury. So what should an environmentalist do when the new, improved bulbs come out, perhaps in a year or two? Do we all replace our CFL bulbs years before their nine-year expiry date – perhaps adding mercury waste to the environment in large cumulative amounts and using additional energy for manufacturing, transporting and packaging the new bulbs so that we can all have the improved and less toxic “green” bulbs in our fixtures?
        It makes me wonder if it wouldn't be more "green" to simply wait until the next generation of energy-efficient bulbs is readily available.

Viva my Viva. Please!

       A few years ago, I made a life-changing decision. I decided that I was going to always have great paper products in my home – soft, luxurious and decadent tissues, toilet paper and paper towels. I figured that I’m worth it, and that this was something on which I was unwilling to compromise. I have enjoyed these products immensely ever since.          

        Visitors to my home have occasionally even been moved to comment on the softness of my paper offerings. My lush, thick, nearly velvety paper towels, in particular, have led not only to exclamations of shock, but also to declarations of admiration for my lifestyle choice. They are the Viva brand, by Kleenex, and if any of you get an opportunity to try these nearly cloth-like super-absorbent towels, you too will experience paper towel Nirvana.
       With that in mind, you can imagine my dread when I switched to recycled paper towels a couple of days ago. The recycled product is called “Small Steps” by Marcal. It is made of 100% premium recycled paper, and according to the package they are STRONG and ABSORBENT, hypoallergenic, and made without chorline dye.
       They also are neither white, nor fluffy, nor lush, nor velvety. Compared to the Viva brand, they are rather gray and desiccated. There is no way I would ever choose to use them to clean a wound, as I did with my Viva and my bloody knees last week. The recycled towels are more likely to add to injuries than soothe them.
       Indeed, to add insult to injury, they actually cost more than my lovely Viva. 

       Why is that? Does it cost more to make paper towels out of paper than it does to make them out of trees? Or is the extra fee a sort of tax on environmentalists? I picture the CEO and CFO saying, “Well, if consumers truly care about the environment, they won’t mind paying a bit more.” I can just imagine them rubbing their hands together and chuckling with a mad-scientist laugh – “heh, heh, heh…”
       However, in the interests of my resolution and the environment, I bought them.

       But I found myself hoping the Marcal towels would be so awful that I would have no choice but to switch back to Viva. I figured that after a few days of trying them, it would be clear that the recyled product is such a complete non-absorbent waste of recycled paper that it would actually be better for the environment to simply make prudent use of my effective (and oh-so-soft) Viva.
       But, to my chagrin, the dry, scratchy paper towels have been more than okay. They are more absorbent than I had expected, and even proved themselves yesterday in a tough situation when Tom decided to take over the kitchen.
       Although Tom is an adventurous cook, he isn’t the neatest one.  I tried to stay out of the way as much as possible, but occasionally simply had to creep in to wipe spills off the counters, floor, stovetop and inside of the refrigerator. And the ugly recycled towels held up to all of it.
       Then, late last night, I devised another Marcal challenge. I tore off two small Marcal “u-size-it” sheets, and used them for cleaning the dining room glass-top table. Then I used the same two sheets to clean off the top of the kitchen island (still delightfully clutter-free, after my Martha Stewart month). Then I used the same sheets to wipe off the seats of the bar stools around the island. And then I used them to wipe down the sink. And, the same two Marcal sheets held up through it all, just like I know the Viva ones would have.
       How incredibly annoying…
       I guess I will continue to use them for now, at least until the end of the month-long resolution. Maybe I’’ll discover something bad about them yet. Perhaps they’ll give me a rash.
       But if not, at the end of the month, I’ll have to make a choice between my commitment to soft, cushiony paper products and my commitment to saving some trees in a forest somewhere.  Hmmmmm....

Daylight Saving Time

Early this morning, Tom and I moved our clocks forward for Daylight Saving Time (DST).
       I mention this not only because it’s timely (that's a pun, I guess), but because some have argued that the switch to DST is good for the environment. This could mean that maybe many of us have actually helped the world today, even if we weren’t trying to. So should we congratulate ourselves on a job well done?
       Well, maybe not.

       The generally accepted purpose of Daylight Saving Time (not Daylight Savings Time, by the way) is to allow us to make better use of longer summer daylight hours in the evening.
       And for many years, it was believed that DST reduces energy consumption as well. Daylight Saving Time means that the sun sets one hour later than it otherwise would -- reducing the period between sunset and bedtime by one hour. It has been argued that this means less electricity would be used for lighting late in the day. Indeed, according to a 1975 U.S. Department of Transportation study, the switch to DST reduced the country’s electrical usage by about 1 per cent a day. (The same might also be true in the winter, except that days are so short that more lighting would be needed in the early morning darkness, offsetting any savings in the evening.)
       It all sounds good, except that it’s not clear that it’s entirely correct. In fact, a 2005 University of California study on power usage in Indiana concluded that longer evenings lead to an increased amount of energy use. This is thought to be because when people come home from their day at work and it is still warm and sunny out, they are more likely to use air conditioning. And certainly more people have air conditioning now than 30+ years ago -- when the last study was completed.
       So much for being green today. I'll just have to do more.

Helping or Hurting (Part 2)

I'm not the only one who must face questions about how best to go green and what the implications are of each decision made.

       I just finished reading David de Rothschild's "Global Warming Survival Handbook".  This delightful book discusses 67 ways to help stop climate change, and lists 10 additional ways to cope with a climate meltdown if all else fails (including buying a camel, and developing scaly skin). 

    But the very fact of the book itself raises some environmental questions. For example, although the book is 160 pages long, its content might have been reduced to a simple list of the 77 essential skills.  This might have been printed on perhaps three pages of paper, instead of 160.  Although it is printed on recycled paper, surely recycled paper should not be wasted any more than non-recycled paper.  

       To save even more paper, the contents might simply have been e-mailed or posted on a web site, thereby avoiding not only the use of paper, but also the electrical power required to print and manufacture the book. And consider the further environmental costs of transporting the book to bookstores and book distributors -- the fuel used to truck or fly it from where it is produced to where it is sold, the paper or plastic used to package it, and so on. And if you order it from Amazon, for example, there will be the further packaging and transportation costs of getting it to you. Don't get me wrong. It's a worthwhile book, but is it helping or hurting?

       And consider the life of the author, David de Rothschild, who Wikipedia calls an "adventurer and environmentalist".  I mean, it sounds like the guy has some noble causes in mind, but the fact is that he draws attention to them by skydiving, traveling the world, etc.  He might want to consider the environmental costs of these actions.  His own book points out that flying on an airplane is a highly effective way to "dump a whole lot of warming gases into the atmosphere really quickly". For all the good he is doing for the planet, he might do a whole lot of good simply by spending his life sitting really still.  Not that I mean to attack him. Indeed, I would be happy to marry the cute, smart, 30-year-old multi-millionaire. Sorry, Tom.  But his life choices do have environmental implications. And who knows exactly where the line should be drawn?

       I do not intend to spend the whole month questioning such decisions, however. And to prove my own commitment to change, I drove my healing body parts to the store yesterday to buy recycled paper towels and compact flourescent light bulbs -- using fuel and adding CO2 emissions to the atmosphere along the way, and carrying the items in plastic bags made only partially from recycled materials. I'll discuss these purchases in the future. 

       But I do hope the environment comes out ahead, in the end.

Helping or Hurting?

       After only one day of effort, I can already say that turning green can be both bewildering and painful.
       There are so many ways to be more environmentally caring that it’s hard to know where to start, and even more difficult to know what value to put on each effort, or if that should even be done.
       Take yesterday for example. I had a doctor’s appointment in the afternoon, and knowing that I had another errand to run near to the doctor’s office, I decided to drive my car to the doctor’s parking lot, have my appointment, and then leave the car there while I walked to the nearby locale to run my errand -- which seemed like a good thing.

       But first I felt bad while driving my car, since in theory, I could have ridden my bike -- if I owned one. But if I had ridden a bike, I’d probably want to wash up a bit by the time I got the the doctor’s office, and that would waste water and possibly add some soapy residue to the water system. So driving seemed like an okay idea, but I figured I’d better not use air conditioning, so I opened the windows instead. I also chose a route down side streets so I could avoid having the car idle while stopped at traffic lights. And I think I actually got to my appointment in less time than I would have otherwise, so maybe I learned a lesson there. 

       All went well with my appointment and my errand, until I tripped over some broken sidewalk while returning to my car, and scraped both my knees and one hand, and likely sprained my thumb. My lesson there is either that walking is dangerous or that I need to practice it more.
       Since I was bleeding and barely able to turn the steering wheel with my injured hand, I drove home the more direct way, and stopped at many traffic lights which meant that the car was idling frequently.  The bigger problem (in addition to the blood) was that if not for my injuries, I would have run a few more errands on the way home, including buying some “green products”, which would have saved me another car trip today, which would have saved fuel overall, and reduced emissions.
       Instead, I went straight home, and cleaned my various wounds. I used some of our super-absorbent paper towels to soak up and wash off the blood, and then felt guilty about that since there wasn’t that much blood and I might have managed it without paper towels. Or maybe I should have used a washcloth to stem the flow? But the washcloth is made of cotton, and farmers use a lot of pesticides while growing cotton and I didn’t want to be encouraging that. And I would have had to clean the washcloth afterwards, using up water and electricity and adding more soapy residue to the environment.
       I considered saving the paper towels so that I could re-use them in case I later spilled something on the floor, for example. But as wiping the floor with bloody paper towels seemed wrong somehow, I decided to throw them out, adding guilt to my pain and future mass to a garbage dump.
       And since I was in pain and unable to cook, Tom brought home some chicken and side dishes from a take-out place, packaged of course in disposable foil pans and plastic containers -- and all inside a plastic bag inside a paper bag. After eating, I rinsed the food containers for recycling, but at what cost in water?
       And all this was because I hadn’t driven the car to my second errand. 

       At the end of the day, had the environment come out ahead? I know I hadn’t.

Turning Green

       It's another new month, and time for another new resolution. So for the month of March, I resolve to turn green. The easy way to do this might be to simply eat some tapioca pudding and then ride a Tilt-A-Whirl.  

       But since I have a whole month,  I am planning to do it the hard way. I have resolved to do more -- in my own life and my own household -- to take better care of the environment.

       Frankly, I feel a bit unenthusiastic about this proposal. Indeed, I have been actively resisting it for some time -- not because I don't care about the environment -- but because I often try to avoid overly "trendy" things. And green is definitely the in color of the times.

       Despite my lack of greenthusiasm, I already do some typically green things.  For example, I have recycled for many years -- even before it was required by law.  I try not to buy goods that come in excessive packaging.  I use bio-degradable bags to pick up Olympia's dog poop.  But I do all of this casually -- simply because it seems the right thing to do. In other words, I do it without a true commitment to saving the planet.

       For the coming month, I am going to do more.  I am going to involve green thinking in as much of my life as possible.  I am going to seek out advice, do my research and work harder to insert green choices into my life and my household. I am going to consider reasons, results, costs and consequences.  As I  have done for the last two months, I want to try to determine what seems right and good and appropriate for my life --and what might simply seem silly, misguided or just plain annoying.

       And any advice or input from readers will truly be appreciated -- especially on the topics that will truly touch me deeply... For instance, what brand of horrific recycled toilet paper should I use???