I just saved $.05. At Target. For taking my reusable bags.
OK, so I also spent about $120 on things like the box of wine I’m taking for our boxed-wine-sampling tonight at book club, a yoga mat for Peter, and some other stuff...
What the heck DID I buy at Target? Do you ever find yourself filling your cart at Target, getting home, and having no idea how you spent $120? Surely I’m not alone in this blatant consumerism...
WAIT! I got cash back. Whew. An $80 Target-spree makes more sense.
Anyway...
Until this morning, I was completely unaware of Target’s policy regarding reusable bags. For every reusable bag you bring and fill, you get $.05 off your bill. Where have I been?
Oh right. I usually don’t take my reusable bags to Target. Oops.
Well, I’m converted.
I’m good about remembering my reusable bags for groceries, but I tend to forget them for other shopping sprees, like Target. Of course, using the same bag for fresh produce from the Farmer’s Market and, say, fire ant poison from Lowe’s is not the wisest idea. In fact, I just read a study in The Wall Street Journal concerning the nasties that can lurk in our reusable bags. I know that I’m not vigilant about washing my reusable bags, but I can assure you--they’re having a bath. Today. I’m also dividing the bags into two piles: food only and “other.”
A kind of funny--or, actually, sad--thing happened last week when I was checking out at Publix. I, of course, was chatting with my favorite cashier and fumbling around for my debit card while the young bagger guy was trying to fit my groceries into my reusable bags. After I swiped my card, I noticed that he had pre-bagged many items into plastic bags--and then put them into the reusable bags! Now, I do put meat into a plastic bag first--sorry, just don’t want to risk e-coli for my family. But bananas? Popsicles? An individual plastic bag for each San Pelligrino bottle? (This was before Peter gave it up.) I explained that our family is trying to cut down on plastic bag consumption, and could he please take my purchases out of the plastic bags?
With a dramatic sigh, he un-bagged and re-bagged. Of course, the line of customers behind me was growing...and I felt some withering looks aimed at the back of my head.
The problem is not just the shopping bags we use--and we use a lot of bags. In fact:
The average American uses between 350-500 bags each year--that’s 100 billion bags.
It takes 12 million barrels of oil to produce all of those shopping bags.
Only one percent are recycled.
More than one million birds and 100,000 sea turtles die each year due to ingesting plastic bags--a plastic bag floating in the ocean sure looks a lot like a jellyfish to a hungry turtle.
Some countries, like Switzerland, expect customers to bring their own bags. I remember my surprise when we had to buy a plastic bag for a purchase at a grocery store. Other countries, like Ireland, impose taxes on plastic bags. Ireland decreased plastic shopping bag consumption by 90% since 2002, reducing overall plastic bag usage by 1.08 billion.
Even communities in the US are fighting the shopping bag war. The Los Angeles City Council recently voted to ban plastic shopping bags from stores, beginning July 1, 2010. Shoppers will need to bring their own bags or pay 25 cents for a paper or biodegradable bag.
Still, I think it’s interesting that we’re so focused on plastic shopping bags. Yes, we need to reduce our dependence on and disposal of plastic shopping bags.
But what about those plastic produce bags?
I can’t avoid them--even at the Farmer’s Market. This week alone, I accumulated 11 produce bags. Ack! Why isn’t anyone launching an assault on plastic produce bags?
Alternative produce bags are available--online. I tried to find reusable produce bags in our area--to no avail. Even when I called Whole Foods, the person I spoke with had no idea what a reusable produce bag was.
So, I’ve ordered a set of organic cotton drawstring bags from a website called ecobags.com. I know what you’re thinking--the bags will add weight to your produce, and you’ll end up paying more for your food. The cool thing about these bags is--there is a tag attached to the bag that states the weight of the bag so the cashier can tare the scale. Now, how well will this system work when I try to buy some snow peas at Publix? Will the bagger put my organic produce bags into plastic shopping bags? Will they offer me the penny item of bottled water???
Stay tuned...
And--if you know of other stores that offer incentives for shoppers to bring their own bags, please share! I believe Whole Foods offers $.05, but I’m not aware of others.
I’m off to plan my potager--our weekend project. What is a potager? Well, my friends, you’ll have to tune in to find out!
It’s only been a week since we began our little project, and already I’m learning how much I don’t know.
At Furman’s Parents’ Weekend Saturday, I fell in love.
With a cup.
Apparently, this eco-product snuck onto the market when I wasn’t looking. OK, honestly, how often did I check the green-ness of fountain drink cups? Ummm...never.Except to rant when I got a drink in a styrofoam cup.
Look at this little beauty. She’s perfect. She’s a lovely alternative to the PET cups of yesterday which, while recyclable, were energy hogs.
She’s made from corn. Grown in the United States.
And she’s compostable.
According to the manufacturer’s website, this little lovely is: “...made from PLA plastic derived from corn. PLA [polylactic acid] plastic is a compostable material that when placed in a commercial environment will naturally decompose back to organic elements. Unlike regular cold cups that are made using petroleum, PLA plastic products are made using US grown corn!”
Too good to be true?
In the interest of research, I purchased a fountain drink and brought home my newest eco-find. The company’s website states that the cup is compostable in a “commercial” environment, which is highly monitored and regulated. When I researched the PLA cups further, several sites mention that the cup will compost entirely in 45 days in a commercial composting facility.
But what if I don’t have a commercial composting facility? What if I bury it in our backyard compost pile?
So stay tuned. Today, October 8, 2009...my little lovely cup is getting a new home among the grass clippings and coffee grounds. I’ll let you know how long it takes before she becomes food for my heirloom plants.
(And, yes...that is a bit of Diet Coke in the bottom of the cup.)
What is significant about October 7? (Besides the fact that it’s the day before my sister Becky’s birthday--HAPPY EARLY B-DAY, Becky!)
Give up?
Today is International Walk to School Day.
Every year, Walk to School Day makes me a little melancholy. I adore the idea of the event, I applaud the good intentions behind it, I support the goals of the organization--but the execution is, sadly, flawed.
At least at Kristen’s school.
Here’s my problem: I’ve participated in Walk to School Day several times. Do you know what the kids and parents do? We drive/bus our kids to school, and then walk AROUND the school at a predetermined time.
Hmm.
Somehow, driving to school, sitting in the carpool line, dropping off the kids, driving home, and then driving back to school for a walk-to-school event just seems a tad absurd to me.
In fact, I think the International Walk to School Organization would agree that the event at my daughter’s school is a bit short on meeting the group’s goals. Here’s what the organization’s website states about the event:
“Communities are using the walk or bike to school [event] as the first step to change community culture and create environments that are more inviting for everyone, young and old. Here are some reasons to support walking and biking to school:
“To enhance the health of kids. Increased physical activity can combat a host of health problems facing kids today.
“To improve air quality and the environment. Replacing car trips to school with walking or bicycling can help reduce air pollution.
“To create safer routes for walking and bicycling. Sidewalks, education programs and traffic calming measures are some of the ways to improve conditions.”
Considering the goals of the International Walk to School Committee, our event seems rather...counterproductive.
Granted, I can’t offer a good solution to the school's administration. I know they’re doing the best they can with an event that just doesn’t fit Kristen’s school. The major problem is--there are no safe routes for the kids to walk or ride their bikes to school. The school is 2.5 miles from our house, and we’re relatively close to school compared to other students. Yes, distance is an issue--but the traffic and lack of sidewalks are the major reasons it’s not feasible for an actual Walk to School event. The school lies just beyond the intersection of two main, four-lanes roads. To say drivers are aggressive on those roads is like saying that the Duggars kind of like kids. Lame analogy, but you know what I mean...
So, basically, we can cross off two of the goals for Walk to School Day--improving air quality and the environment, as well as creating safer routes through education programs and “traffic calming measures.” Call me a skeptic, but I don’t see the county installing sidewalks or speed bumps based on a once-a-year event.
As far as enhancing the health of kids: yes, a walk around the school provides exercise. But a few years ago, after the kids walked around the school, the PTO provided ice cream after the event. Now, I like ice cream as much as anyone...but really, did anyone even look at the goals for Walk to School Day? If we can't achieve the environmental goals of the event, couldn't the school at least focus on the health aspect? Strike three.
I wish the event could work at Kristen’s school. I really do. I know that throughout the country, the event truly raises awareness about the environmental and health benefits of walking or biking to school. I’m thankful for an organization that encourages families to leave the car at home more often and hoof it to school. I’ve seen the newscasts of hundreds of families walking to school together. It does work, in the right community.
I’ve found the perfect juice box that is fully recyclable, economical, and manufactured using 85% less packaging than its counterpart. The best part is:
It’s for us. The grownups.
“Cask” wine is the preferred term for the Bag-in-Box (BIB) products we’ve seen creeping onto the shelves of grocery stores and big box retailers like Target. I’ve blatantly ignored them.
Until now.
I’m not a wine snob. Really. Well, maybe a little bit. It’s not as if I really know much about wine, I simply find a few that I like and stick with them. Pinot Noir is my favorite fall/winter wine, and Pinot Grigio is my spring/summer wine. I’m a sucker for label design. If it’s an interesting label, I’ll try it. If it’s about $10, I’ll buy it. If it’s Italian, I’ll love it. See how logically I make my wine selections?
Perhaps my wine expertise stems from my early career days, as a young marketing girl in the big, exciting publishing world. My friend, Katie, and I spent a lot of time discussing lipstick shades when we probably should have been writing press releases or some other nonsense. Anyway, we were thrilled when our company ousted the current male publisher and brought on board a bright, young female publisher. A mentor! Someone to guide us in growing our careers in the (then) male-dominated publishing world!
I remember how impressed I was when, during an author dinner, our new publisher effortlessly ordered wine for the table. “Simi Chardonnay,” she commanded. I was awed by her knowledge of wine.
Well, after numerous dinners where she ordered “Simi Chardonnay” for everyone, I realized that her knowledge of wine was about as vast as her knowledge of publishing. She lasted six months.
In my mind, I equate a lovely bottle of wine, complete with a beautifully designed label, as tasting delicious. Now, you know and I know that’s crap. It’s all about the grape...and the soil where it grew...and the weather...and the harvest time...and...and...and...
Anyway, I just haven’t been able to get myself to buy a box of wine. It seems too collegiate to me, like I’m going to a kegger and the frat boys made sure to have some boxes of wine for the prissy girls who didn’t drink beer. (Note to Tyler: I never drank before I was 21, and you better not either!!! Ahem.)
So, I’ve snubbed the boxes and continued buying bottles of wine. I’m sad to say Peter and I can no longer finish a bottle in one evening without feeling pain the next day. Sometimes we save it, but often the remaining wine gets dumped.
Perhaps it’s time to try a cask. All in the name of research for our family project, of course.
First of all--and some might say most importantly--the engineering of the cask is ideal for people like us. We like a glass of wine with dinner or after the kids go to bed, but we don’t consume the entire bottle. The design of the cask prevents oxidation--the vacuum-sealed bag protects wine from air exposure. As the wine is poured, the bag collapses on itself without letting air reach the wine. The specially designed spigot prevents air from contacting the wine until poured, which ensures the wine’s quality. The packaging preserves the wine’s flavor and freshness for a minimum of six weeks. “The last glass is always as good as the first,” states the Better Wines, Better World website. (www.betterwinesbetterworld.com)
How’s the quality? Approximately 99% of the wine sold in the U.S. is considered table wine--that is, it can be consumed as soon as it is released into the market. Only a small minority of wine is “aged.” For many wine producers, the packaging is the only difference in their bottled versus box wines. The production methods are exactly the same--except packaging.
We’ve all seen the movies where the pretentious actor swirled his wine and declared to the wine steward that it “tasted of cork.” Did you know that approximately 5% of wine is affected by cork taint? That results in the disposal of more than 40 Olympic-sized swimming pools full of wine. An additional benefit of the cask packaging? No cork taint.
What about the value? An average bottle of wine costs approximately $9. An average cask contains the same volume of wine as four bottles. The average price per box? Approximately $19. For good stuff. Yum.
Now, here’s the real kicker and the reason I’m finally thinking about boxed wine: environmental impact.
The Bag-in-Box packaging generates less than 1/2 the carbon footprint of glass wine bottles. The energy used to produce the packaging and to transport the wine is significantly less than required for glass bottles. BIBs result in 85% less packaging waste than glass, eliminating the heavy glass bottle, capsule, neck band, cork, front label and back label. If all of the consume-upon-release wines sold in the U.S. were converted to BIB packaging, we would save 1.5 million tons of carbon dioxide per year, which would be the equivalent of removing 250,000 cars from the roads.
Additionally, while glass wine bottles are recyclable, more energy is necessary to recycle four bottles versus one cardboard box. The bag is also recyclable with #7 plastics.
So, in the interest of research, I’m going to pick up some wine. In a box.
I’ll let you know how it is...
And, for my book club friends, I think I might have a little box wine sampling Friday night to get your opinions.
What do you drink? Box or bottle? What would you think if a friend showed up with a box of wine versus a bottle for a party? Would you think “Cheapo” or “Eco-Goddess”? And, would you willingly drink wine from a box?
I’ll let you know what my testers say...
Cheers!
Monday, October 5, 2009
First, a little irony for the morning:
Chloe, our 11-month-old pup, chewed my favorite canvas, reusable shopping bag. Because it’s a rainy Monday and the dogs are spending the day inside with me while I attempt to write, I’m not even taking the bag away from her. The damage is done. And, since I’m out of the big chew bones that normally occupy her on rainy days...the bag is keeping her busy and out of my hair. I hope that gives you a sense of atmosphere for my morning...plus my Facebook account is “unavailable due to site maintenance”--since yesterday. Yeesh...
So, last week I promised that I’d look into the juice box dilemma. Even before the launch of our family eco-initiative, Peter complained about juice boxes. Perhaps his irritation stemmed from those little cellophane straw wrappers that our children tend to leave everywhere. Or maybe it had something to do with the day Mikey, playing firefighter, squeezed his apple juice box as hard as he could to “put out a fire” on the living room carpet. Whatever the reason, I continued to buy juice boxes because...well, let’s face it. They’re convenient. Grab and go. Also, the kids can get their own drinks from the fridge without spilling a pitcher of lemonade on the floor or summoning me. Plus, honestly, what are the alternatives when you need to send snacks for soccer games or class parties?
With more than 100 billion juice boxes manufactured annually, I suppose I’m not alone with my juice box infatuation.
While I’m a major purchaser of juice boxes, I do feel guilt. My issue with juice boxes is the lack of recycling opportunities. We can't chuck them in the recycling bin with the newspapers or the milk jugs. Juice boxes are considered aseptic containers, which means they’re produced under sterile conditions, and the contents require no refrigeration or preservatives to remain germ-free. The good news is: aseptic containers incur less energy costs per unit during transport. The box design allows more units per truckload versus bottles, and there’s no energy expended for refrigeration. Proponents of juice boxes also cite the relatively low ratio of packaging weight to product: 4% for juice boxes versus 30-40% for glass bottles, which means less resources expended in manufacturing and less packaging clogging landfills. So far, so good.
However, a typical juice box is comprised of:
Six layers of paper, 24%
Polyethylene, 70%
Aluminum foil, 6%
Additionally, each juice box contains a plastic straw, wrapped in the lovely cellophane. Juice boxes are sold in packs of six or more, so they’re wrapped in a cardboard sleeve, printed with the marketing info, and then shrink-wrapped.
Now, we have a problem.
Besides the extraneous material, there are only a few states that provide recycling for juice boxes. South Carolina isn’t one of them. If you feel like driving to Raleigh, NC....they offer juice box recycling. Let me know if you’re going, I’ll send some juice boxes with you.
Recycling juice boxes isn’t an easy process. Through “hydrapulping,” paper is separated from polyethylene and ground into pulp, which can then be used for recycled paper products.
Or, if you’re really crafty, you can recycle a juice box into an iPod case (see www.cultofmac.com).
Hmm. Maybe I’ll make one for Peter. His birthday is next month.
The Aseptic Packaging Council, an organization for producers of aseptic products, states on its website that they are working to increase the number of locations that provide juice box recycling. You can go to the website (www.aseptic.org) and check to see if there is juice box recycling in your area. Maybe call a local politician, promise your vote in exchange for juice box recycling in your community.
OK, so that still doesn’t answer the big question: what do I send to Mikey’s soccer game or Kristen’s class Halloween party?
It’s a sad fact that the world is a little too scary for any parent to be 100% comfortable with a non-packaged drink given to a child by a stranger. If I were to show up at soccer with a pitcherful of homemade lemonade and some reusable cups that I could take home and wash...what would those parents think? Would they fear the “unknown” in the drink? Would they think I'm a scary soccer-mom? And what if I substitute homemade chocolate chip cookies for the individually packaged, safely sealed Oreos?
What would be your reaction?
Anyway...there is some good news. TerraCycle offers a recycling program for juice pouches, like Capri Sun and Honest Kids. TerraCycle, the brainchild of a 19-year-old Princeton student, began as an organic fertilizer company and now is a multi-category, eco-friendly powerhouse committed to reducing waste. Schools and not-for-profit organizations can earn up to $.02 per redeemed juice pouch. (www.TerraCycle.net/brigades) That’s $.20 per carton of Capri Sun. While it’s not enough financial support to end the educational budget crisis, it does contribute a bit of cash to schools and resolves the juice pouch recycling conundrum. Turn your kids' juice pouches into pencil cases! Tote bags! It’s the new eco chic! Check out the products they make with the recycled juice pouches.
While not ideal, I suppose I can enroll Kristen’s school in the program and send Capri Sun to the party. And, of course, I can always send water bottles for soccer--at least we can recycle them. In the next few weeks, I’m going to take a field trip to see how bottles are recycled--thanks to my friend, Brandy. Juice boxes are out at our house, except for the remaining few in the refrigerator. We’ve switched to reusable Sigg bottles for our on-the-go drink needs, and around the house we reuse plastic Zaxby’s kids’ cups with lids. It’s embarrassing how many Zaxby’s kids’ cups are lurking in the cabinets...
Here’s the scoreboard so far:
Diet Coke cans: 0 Diet Coke 2-liter bottles: 2 (I know...I’m working on it.) Juice boxes: banished San Pellegrino bottles: also banished
Yes, beginning today, my darling husband announced that he’s giving up his beloved imported Italian sparkling water to contribute to the cause. Isn’t he a good sport?
And for those of you who worry about Tyler’s water needs at Furman (aka Aunt Becky), we bought him a BPA-free water bottle. It’s very cool and hip. He promises to use it. We’ll see.
So, we’re on the path to healthier, more environmentally friendly choices for our drinks. Now, we’re tackling food. Can the Adolf family become locavores? Stay tuned...
Last night--surprisingly--we heard from our oldest son, Tyler. Ty is loving the life of a college student, which is why I don’t overreact when he forgets to call or respond to my text messages. I’m trying to relax and let go...but it’s a challenge. Fortunately, he’s attending school only 45 minutes from home. Unfortunately, I promised him that we wouldn’t infringe on his freedom if he chose Furman. We’ve been upholding our end of the deal with no surprise campus visits or irrational demands for babysitting help on weekends.
But this weekend is Parents’ Weekend. HA! He has no choice! We’re spending Saturday on campus, with promises to feed him well off-campus.
So, being the loving mother I am, I ask him if he needs us to bring anything.
“No, I’m good. Except can you pick up a 24-pack of bottled water?”
Ummm...
No.
I can’t.
Well, of course I COULD, but you know I can’t.
Here’s the thing: even though I know my son is a smart, reasonable young man...and I know that water bottles are recyclable...I doubt that he will actually recycle them. I mean really, nothing against Ty--at home, he’s really a pretty good recycler. But we’ve all been 18, and 18-year-old college students possess other priorities than ensuring plastic bottles end up in the recycling container. I know he’s much more evolved than I was at 18 (thank god.) Still...I can’t make the purchase when we’ve just started this project. And I’m a little surprised that he would ask me.
Oh, wait...I never told Ty about the project! I fill him in, telling him to check out the blog and figure out how he can participate in the family project. His response is--underwhelming.
Of course, I want to pamper my away-from-home son. Cookies are baking as I type. But with Furman being a prototype for sustainability, as well as my commitment to eliminate--or at least significantly reduce--bottles and cans in our lives, I can’t provide the one thing my son requested. Ah, a mother’s guilt.
Our drinking water is good--in fact, it’s some of the best in the country. Now if only it were more--convenient. Portable.
How about using a travel mug? A non-disposable water bottle? A glass? What novel ideas.
The irony in this story is:
I just bought bottled water. On Monday.
I know, I know. I suck.
Did I mention that along with my family’s environmental experiment, Peter and I are also trying to recover the lost bodies of our youth? We’re trying to eat more healthfully, cook more, eat out less, generate less take-out trash, and exercise. He’s doing really well. He started the P90X workout last night, and he’s still standing today. I’m supposed to be exercising right now. Oh well.
Anyway, I’ve made an effort to visit local farms or farmers’ market for our eggs, meat, and produce, but some staples I needed from Publix. As I unloaded my cart full of yummy, healthy food, the adorably sweet Publix checkout lady asked if I would like the penny item.
Sure, I told her, searching for my debit card. I love the Publix penny items. Such good savings! Such excellent treats, never junk!
Yep, I went home with a 6-pack of bottled water for $.01.
Damn.
I suppose I could fulfill 1/4 of Ty’s request and give him the accidentally-purchased bottles. I could make him swear that they won’t end up in the landfill.
The bottled water dilemma and the Diet Coke rehab leads to my next worry...all of those juice boxes we trash. What can I do to start eliminating those lovely little non-recyclable boxes of convenience without causing a coup among the small fry? How does a mom provide snacks and drinks for school parties or soccer games without contributing to the hole in the ozone?
I think I’d better go Google “juice boxes.”
And finally, for those of you wonderful friends who are worrying about my caffeine deprivation: I must confess to two glasses of the evil DC this a.m. Still can-free, though. I can't wait for the day I can tell you that I'm completely clean. I’m working on it...thanks for the ideas and support!
I thought we’d play a game today, to celebrate the kick-off of the Adolf family’s “green” project. Winner gets a prize.
Can you guess how many cans of Diet Coke I’ve consumed over the past two weeks?
Enter your guess in the “Comments” area, and I’ll announce the winner as soon as I count the cans awaiting recycling in the garage.
So, today is the day that I am ending my obsession with Diet Coke.
At least with cans.
The problem with a cold-turkey approach to ending my love affair with that delicious burst of bubbles and caffeine is that I’m fearful I can’t make it through the day. I’m not a coffee drinker, I stay up far too late reading and get up far too early, but still need to wear my game-face for the kids. I need that caffeine.
Is there a 12-step program for this?
Anyway, residing in my fridge is a two-liter bottle. I’m sipping a bit in a glass as I type. The cans are gone, but I’m not perfect...I have to wean myself, and I’m hoping it won’t take long. Once the truth is out about how much DC I used to consume...you’ll understand and take pity on me. I hope.
Although I still negatively impacted the environment by purchasing that plastic Diet Coke bottle, I’m slowly trying to redeem myself. Over the course of my life, I’ve had a LOT of Diet Coke. In cans. Yes, I recycle those cans. But the energy needed to manufacture the can and then recycle it disturbs me. Factor in the energy consumed in driving to the store just for Diet Coke--which I have been known to do on many occasions. (How could I possibly function without my crack--I mean, caffeine?) Now, let’s add in the packaging that keeps those cans from rolling around the car. Yes, I also recycle the cardboard boxes, but still...it takes energy to produce them, as well as energy to recycle them.
So I’m feeling pretty self-righteous about my two-liter plastic bottle.
Actually, I’m not. I really feel like crap about it.
This morning, as I was getting Kristen and Mikey ready for school and doing all of those crazy morning things we moms do...I was trying to make a very conscious effort to be aware of what I was throwing in the trash versus what I recycled. We recycle. We do.
But sometimes it’s just easier to throw the trash away. Off you go, trash, clog up the landfill, because the clutter is driving me nuts! Just get out of my house!
As I was getting the kids’ clothes from their rooms, I ripped off some prices tags. It’s gotten chilly here this week, time to whip out the new clothes. I threw the tags in the trash.
Ummm...
Paper is definitely recyclable. I took it out.
Mikey finished his yogurt. I let the dog lick the cup, then threw it in the trash.
Then thought about it.
Yep, there’s that triangle on the bottom.
What about the little plastic cup from the Crystal Light lemonade mix? It’s plastic, no triangle...recycle or not?
And suddenly Kristen is late for school.
Right now, there is a pile of plastic and paper items sitting on the kitchen counter. Clutter on the kitchen counter in the a.m. when I’m trying to get everyone out of the house absolutely drives me ape-shit. But I can’t throw it away.
We’re trying to be green-er.
I did manage to get the scraps out to the compost bucket, though. Yea me.
I’m truly humbled. And kind of embarrassed.
Honestly, I thought we were good environmentalists. Not crazy ones, but I really thought we did everything we could to minimize trash by recycling. One hour into our project, I realized how little I personally recycle.
If it’s convenient, I recycle.
If I have time, I recycle.
If it’s obvious, I recycle.
Hmm.
So, as the matriarch of the family, I’ve got to step it up. I must lead my family by example. The Diet Coke, in all forms (except fountain drinks at restaurants in glasses), must go.
Tomorrow.
Here’s my question, without any judgments (who am I to judge anyone?):
Do you recycle? And, if you recycle, how much percentage-wise do you think you recycle compared to your normal garbage output? No scientific calculations necessary...guesstimates work. I’m going to try to calculate our family’s recycling percentage for a week. Should be--enlightening (or frightening).
Until then, if anyone has a good cure to counteract the lack-of-caffeine headache I will have tomorrow...please let me know!
