
As far as tree-hugging goes, heaven knows the hub and I aren’t perfect. In fact I’m pretty sure there are things we continue to do that are downright ungreen. *cough*chekhovhasawaterfountain*cough*. Not that we don’t try, of course. (And by “we”, I mean mostly me unless I look at the hub with my features HIEROGLYPHIC WITH TERRIBLE MEANING.) As the faboo Umbra of Grist says in her Consumption Manifesto, however, feeling guilty only makes you sad. So don’t sweat the small stuff—focus on what you CAN do, rather than what you can’t.
Some items on our Green Home laundry list:
1. We’re gradually replacing our toxic cleaning products with natural, eco-friendly alternatives from companies like Seventh Generation and Method. From Seventh Generation’s Web site:
Many of the chemicals that are found—unregulated—in conventional household cleaning products are not allowed in workplaces due to Occupational Health and Safety Administration (OSHA) regulations. Seventh Generation was born out of a desire to provide effective, useful household products that will not harm the earth or its inhabitants.
Have you seen Method’s absolutely exquisite packaging? Donna Reed would have a spasmodic fit if she gazed upon the gut-wrenching beauty of my sink area (or at least shed a single, picturesque tear). Seventh Generation’s recycled garbage bags, which we’ve switched to using, also deserve all kinds of profanity-laced superlatives. Again, from their site:
If every household in the U.S. replaced just one package of 15 count large trash bags made from virgin plastic with 100% recycled ones, we could save:
93,000 barrels of oil, enough to heat and cool 5,300 U.S. homes for a year
1.7 million cubic feet of landfill space, equal to 2,500 full garbage trucks
and avoid 34,600 tons of pollution.
2. I’m cooking at home more, and whenever possible, choosing organic food that’s not grown with pesticides and artificial fertilizers (or worse, frankenfied by gene insertions.) In fact, we’ve just sent off our application to our neighborhood community-supported agriculture (CSA) program, which will not only support our local farmers, but also provide us with fresh, organic produce throughout the growing season. Did you click on that last link? Mr. Burly Macho Farmer Man has kittens on his farm. If that doesn’t make your ovaries go into nuclear meltdown, I don’t know what will and you’re dead inside.
Do you know how hard it was convincing my pizza-and-cheeseburger-loving hub to try ORGANIC POPCORN? (Mostly it was me shaking his shoulders while yelling, “Can’t you see I’m trying to KEEP YOU ALIVE, MAN?”) I don’t know why I haven’t been declared a national treasure and placed in charge of hostage negotiations. Similarly, my inner vain Jane is chucking my regular makeup for products made from natural ingredients. The FDA doesn’t regulate cosmetics—thanks, FDA!—and the open secret is that many ingredients in our makeup are known or potential carcinogens. Seriously, I’m paranoid as it is without having to worry if my eye shadow is trying to eat my brain.
3. We’re purchasing green tags to offset our carbon emissions and support the development of clean, renewable energy. Trust me, I’m not about to sit in the dark meditating on how one cat could generate so much poop, so going climate neutral and balancing out our impact on global warming is the next best thing. We’ve also signed up with an affiliate of New Jersey’s CleanPower program, which actually pumps back electricity generated from renewable resources back into our local grid.
4. We’re buying less. (If you know me at all, this is a HUGE deal.) Reusing and recycling are essential, of course. But the first “R”, which urges us to reduce and cut down on our contributions to the waste stream, is far, FAR more effective. The hub and I make excursions to the library for our reading fixes as much as we can. His cheap-skate insistence on buying books used is also a stealthily sustainable practice of his, which yes, is sometimes endearing, but when he takes HALF AN HOUR debating whether TWO DOLLARS is too much to pay for a pulp sci-fi paperback, then not so much.
Chekhov takes a rather dim view of our efforts, however. And I think if I attempted to feed him organic cat food, he’d rip out our throats in our sleep. I know where to pick my battles. You don’t mess with the kibble, not even if that nice Paul Newman.