Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Intro to Potholes on the road to green living

Going green is earnest business, don't we know. To keep me going I have to find the humor in my difficulties and missteps . I hope a bit of humor also makes it nicer for the reader. And saying it helps me stick with doing it. Thank you for visiting this blog.

Below I've listed postings by title--you'll find older ones in the archive by month and year. Choose any topic of interest, or go to the beginning and take the journey with me.

Potholes on the road to green living April 2009 (light bulbs)

To compost, but how? Also April The challenge of a shady garden

More potholes—lowering the thermostat . . . . . May

Compost skirmishes: Raccoons 2, Humans 1. . . . . .May

Ants! . . . . . . . .May (one of my favorites)

Enjoy your shower . . . . . .Oct

Lower wattage: It’s not about the money . . . Dec

A morning to prep for ceiling track . . . . Dec

Pay-off at last . . . . Jan 2010

Greener vacation: Beach sweep . . . . .March

Replacing the deck. Part 1: Composite decking? . . . . . Oct

Replacing the deck. Part II: Greener than concrete. . .Jan 2011

A hundred little things . . . . . .. March (wishing for an electric car)

Listing a hundred little things: First 15 . . . March

Next thirty-five little things . . . . . Apr

Little things 51-70 . . . . . . .Sept



Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Little things 51-70

I’ve missed writing this summer, though I used up the summer daylight and sunshine like it was a temporary thing. This being the Northwest, the only thing to do. Waves of house guests, preserving and eating the county’s fresh harvest, and plenty of walks and work outdoors to keep me away from this chair. This 100 things list is getting harder. Here's the next batch:

51. Green guests. This is not in my control, but cool, nonetheless—just said good-bye to a couple who were here 4 full days. Went to do the laundry. Found they had shared one bath towel. One, that’s all they left for me to launder!

52. Food genetic diversity. When we buy canned peaches, we buy Lady Elberta rather than the ubiquitous Clings. Does that seem like a stretch in a list of green actions? I think of it as part of the greening of our food supply safety net—not putting all our eggs in one basket. Things happen. Plus they taste better. They get harder to find on the grocery shelf among rows of cling peaches, but they are there. Of course right now it's fresh varieties from eastern Wash. Eye-rollingly good.

53. More food diversity—helps even with minor disturbances in the field. In the news is North Dakota’s wet year: 40% less durum wheat planted. We may eat less pasta this winter, but have discovered teff, bulgar, and black quinoa, for in-between organic spaghetti price specials.

54. Support local farmers. We bought a CSA for the first time this year (what does it stand for?—I think the S is for share, or is it for subscription?). It’s making me try new foods and recipes—baby white turnip salad was good—and just the look of the fresh-picked produce in my every-other-weekly box—gorgeous.

55. Amtrak GuestRewards points. They offered that I could redeem a chunk of points for carbonfund.org, so I did. Of course, the bigger issue is how to stay aware and support Amtrak. Every so often, big money takes a run at destroying Amtrak(because they can’t make money on it?). Currently, they are reviving a bid to carve out lucrative segments to privatize. And so to make it easier to destroy the rest.

56. Foaming hand soap, one more note about that. In the kitchen I even use it for quick clean up of my prep knives. So much more efficient and water-saving than using the gloppy stuff, and it keeps them away from Mr. W’s tendency to sweep everything into the dishwasher.

57. Recipe instructions to “Cover the bowl with plastic wrap.” I'm substituting a plate as a cover.

58. Cloth napkins. I haven't bought paper ones in months.

59. Another catalog gone. We got on Wilderness Travel’s mailing list somehow (suspect Mr. W), and we just discard their luxury catalog. I just weighed it on the kitchen scale: 1lb. 3 oz. of glossy paper and fancy inks. So I have written them to take us off their mailing list.

60. Hot cereal midweek. Expanding our habit of oats on weekends, so that much less of the boxed and plastic-bagged cold cereals. With blueberries and now nectarines, ahh.

61. Patio furniture. I confess we bought new, but what would be our odds of finding a used table that didn’t wobble and shake on made-in-China legs? And if we had found a set the right size (not so wide that we have to shout across), bet that the chairs wouldn’t be good for our dicey backs. I list this under the category, Durables that will Stay Out of the Landfill. Wrought iron triple powder-coated, German. Making the purchase possible was a steep end-of-season discount.I’m sorry if the recession caused a distress sale, it was discounted that steeply. Already used over 30 times in 15 days!

62. Outdoor furniture cushions. Combine the homely skill of sewing with re-use of cushion foam we had from years ago, and hope that an occasional sponging off will keep them going for years. If I remember to bring them in at night.

63. Letting laundry finish by air-drying in summer. I lost the tree that anchored my clothesline, but I festoon the stairwell railing, shower rods, and a wooden rack. Maybe I can come up with another outdoor set-up.

64. Another used laptop. Does this reduce my carbon footprint, or am I just cheap? My last used laptop lasted about three years, and I only had to put up with a few quirks like the boot up and shut down in Chinese characters. This one is like the other a respected brand, an Acer, so we’ll see what I get out of it, and I recycled the failed one. A quirk of this one is that it came with a newer version of WORD than I had. A feature, not a bug, right? You could have fooled me. But I have finally managed to get my Bookman Oldstyle font as my default. Still struggling with some other previously simple tasks.

65. Donate magazines (in good condition) to the free bins at the public library. I benefitted for a couple of years from this public sharing. Now that we have caved to get our own subscription to The New Yorker I am donating back.

66. Support 350.org’s Moving Planet day Sept 24. That turns out to be the day Sis and her husband are in Vancouver, BC for a few hours, so I need to take Mom there to visit and won’t be able to attend an event, but we’ll take train and cab to their downtown hotel rather than drive. It’s self-serving as well as green because the traffic will be “Wow” as Mom would say.

67. Park at one errand and walk to the next. (adding to number 27, combining errands). With an average of five stops for each errand day, there are bound to be two close enough together to making walking work.

68. Got started bicycling again. First huff and puff up the street didn’t get me any where
nearbeing able to fetch milk by bicycle, but it was a step in the right directionand made me feel a little younger.

69. Mr. W made pickles—a bit less vinegary bite than commercial ones, and very crisp with friends’ grape leaves, and garlicky good. And I made pistou and applesauce for the freezer, nestled in with several flats worth of blueberries. If you are going to have an old freezer, best to fill it.

70. Partner with friends. We just enjoyed the smoked last servings of our 2010 heritage turkeys our friend Mary raised for both families. Organic feed and a high chick price made them expensive. But they were delicious and a good learning experience. File under re-skilling. Cross-file under chicken and turkey feeding stations, (keep separate); defense against neighbor animals, (the turkey-crazed dogs able to break through their invisible fence); and Scotch whiskey, uses of (recommended aid for recovering from dog incidents—for Mary, not the fainted turkey).

Monday, April 4, 2011

Next thirty-five little things

Continuing my count to 100 actions:

16. Biodegradable kitty litter. I don’t know if plain clay litter is bad, but it is heavy, doesn’t last nearly as long, and so more of it goes into landfills. Also I guess it has to be mined to obtain it. My favorite is One Earth™ brand with corncob and yucca. A bag of it seems expensive, but it lasts us up to two months.

17. Yes, it would be greener to not have a cat. That day will come, and then I can concentrate on providing habitat for birds. So #17 is my decision not to replace the little darling when she goes.

18. Birds—in the meantime, one thing is to refuse to fly red-eye—I don’t want to be flying over bird breeding sites at dawn, since I've learned it is a critical time for them to communicate.

19. Chocolate. I have gone cold turkey on the major brand of chocolate chips for making cookies (a company I am persuaded doesn’t deserve its profits based on its record). Recently I sucked it up to pay the price for organic, slave-free chocolate chips. Made me appreciate each cookie!

20. Planting native plants and shrinking the lawn. This is ongoing, and admittedly it’s been a struggle to get plants established before the deer hordes destroy them. Or the squirrels, voles, summer drought, and root weevils. Ferns, you are fabulous.

21. My metal water bottle travels with me so I can refuse bottled water. I do filter my tap water at home, and it tastes great. As good as our plain tap water used to taste before they had to start using more chlorine and stuff.

22. Does making a place for a rainwater cistern count? I set aside an area newly reinforced by a retaining wall. I’m holding out for much bigger than a rain barrel, but that will not be a DIY project. Photo caption could be "Cistern Envy."

23. Energy savings—a bit more this year. I’ve written about getting the daytime thermostat setting down to 65 degrees. Now I’m flirting with 64 when it’s just me at home.

24. Dry cleaning. Only about once a year now. Remember in the film “North by Northwest” where Cary Grant dives into that dusty cornfield just ahead of the machine gun fire but his impeccable wool suit looks ruined? And he gets to the hotel and simply has it “sponged and pressed.” Well, sponging does indeed work.

25. Shorter showers? How about fewer showers instead? I've received no complaints, but it's not summer yet. See "sponging" above!

26. Hand washing things that are marked “dry clean only.” Wool sweaters do great with a vinegar rinse and ironing before they are dry. Admittedly I wear more washable fleece now, but I still love my woollens.

27. Combining trips to do more with less gasoline.

28. Taking the bus for some trips.

29. Taking the train when I can.

30. Simple cleaning agents. I don’t care for the industrial fragrances that come with typical toilet cleaners, window cleaners and the rest, so lightening up on chemicals is easy for me. And “anti-bacterial,” debunked awhile ago as a bad idea, is easy to avoid—I buy my liquid hand soap from the bulk aisle at the food co-op and dilute it in my pump foamers. I’m down to a few simple concoctions, with distilled white vinegar as my main go-to.

31. Going after invasives in the landscape. Ivy creeping up our trees is our personal joy-to- destroy.

32. Eating in-season. I used to buy fresh tomatoes all year long. Now I make do with sun-dried in the winter, not such a bad trade, or skip them and color the salad with red radishes.

33. Preserving foods to extend local sourcing. Freezing blueberries and cherries is my start. Progress to canning this year?

34. I really need to add drying to my preserving repertoire.

35. Composting kitchen scraps and peels.

36. Picking up plastic trash loose on street or beach. I do this some—could do it more.

37. Thanking people who volunteer to do habitat work and other good environmental work. More often than before.

38. Re-use and postpone the need to recycle. File folders, paper printed on only one side, egg cartons, picture frames, good stuffing in throw pillows—lovely feathers or kapok goes into new covers. Polyester batting begone!

39. Reduce packaging. Instead of new plastic jars of nuts, I refill from the bulk food isle.

40. Reduce. Make my own yogurt rather than generate more plastic tubs. My latest batch is perfect in 12 hours. I followed Wild Fermentation by Sandor Katz. Pretty foolproof, although I had one batch that gave me the willies--using unhomogenized milk I got a freaky, wrinkly gummy blanket on top and couldn't bring myself to eat it.

41. Reduce. Milk in glass jars. So retrograde, but nice. And we have to shake to keep the cream mixed in. Less need for a weight-lifting program.

42. More eating in-season—fruits. Locally grown strawberries are available only about 3 weeks here. But they are GREAT, and the anticipation, the gorging, the memories, last all year long.

43. Good kitchen equipment. So it lasts. I have one crappy broiler pan, twisted from heat and hard to clean, just to remind me what bargain items really are. I have knives 30 years old that I still love. And cookware with the right weight, balance, heat conduction, that are a pleasure to cook with, and show no signs of wearing out. Denby stoneware, likewise 30 years of every day use and still going. My husband led the way on some things and gets all credit. It’s not that we had money starting out. But here we found a sale, and there we scrimped. If you could have seen our first apartment. Or for that matter, our wedding! Which we never regretted scrimping on. Not quite true—the photography was only good for a laugh.

44. Less plastic by thinking ahead. The local shellfish grower likes to put your order into a thick, huge plastic bag with ice. Last time I was there I handed over a lidded tub I’d brought and we skipped the bag.

45. Home painting--re-using turpentine/thinner after the paint settles to the bottom. Giving away unused latex paint, or drying it out before tossing it. Checking out low VOC for next interior paint. Though I must say, what can provide the 15 years that we’ve got from our last interior paint? This is a consideration when the labor of painting gets more difficult to do ourselves.

46. Toilet paper—recycled fiber, unbleached, in big individually paper-wrapped rolls. This costs more, but hey, a new market doesn’t create itself; it needs us. I scarcely can think of any one green thing I feel happier about doing—the dioxins from the bleaching process are so nasty it is a wonder the process hasn’t been banned. I like to think my greener purchases have the conventional producers worried—why else would they keep lowering their prices on the jumbo packages that I see being carted out of stores?

47. More cooking. When we’re making sauerkraut (we gave ourselves a nice crock for Christmas), or omelets, or pie crust, or whatever it is, we’re opening fewer cans, boxes, jars, and we are eating better, too.

48. I almost forgot. I left something hanging in my first post, the 2009 “potholes” about replacing light bulbs where there was a dimmer switch and a baffling wiring mess. I did in the last year get an electrician in, who took out the dimmer in the main (area) lights in the kitchen so I was able to change 6 incandescents to CFLs. And wasn’t it nice to have him also replace several outlets a foot off the floor rather than folding my frame into position to do it. Now the vacuum cleaner actually stays plugged in. He also checked my work on the new ceiling fixtures I installed in 2010. Peace of mind.

49. Activism. Working for a greener “commons,” because individual green choices don’t touch some problems. This is new to me, but feels good and necessary.

50. Not stressing. At least for me, the best way to sustain my efforts is not to expect a perfect record. If I backslide, I just begin again. If I’ve my hands full making dinner and don’t want to wash eggshells, that time they go in the garbage instead of the compost. The trend is what’s important to maintaining my efforts, and the trend is greener and greener.