Thursday, May 14, 2009

It Ain't Easy Being Green

Our art teacher is an avid, if not rabid, recycler.

At lunch, as we finish our bottles of water and containers of yogurt, she takes them from us, packs them up to take to her art classroom, washes them out, and places them in the appropriate recycling containers. She is thwarting our plot to singlehandedly wreck the earth for our forebears through wildly disposing of luncheon packaging.

I have seen the stories of men, who likely tired of their wives' nagging, and stopped taking out the trash. Just Google "kept trash for a year" and you will find a few stories, one of which made Time Magazine. It features a picture of Dave, sitting in his basement, along with six months' worth of trash.

Now, I like making a point as well as anyone, but I draw the line at living with trash. I throw so much away that my husband accuses me of manufacturing garbage. I take after my mother who when I was a teen responded, "busy hands are happy hands....oh bad, bad, bad hands" when I howled about some beloved, and undoubtedly useful, item of mine that she had thrown away.

I love that my friend recycles my lunch trash. While it's enjoyable to tease about her green tendencies, I feel like I should do something of my own. It's already like pioneer days around here: I've lost the remote control and we're out of Diet Coke. Two tragdies in their own right, but it won't save the planet. .

Given the fact that my dryer screeches a tune that alternates "I quit" with "Help me, I'm dying" to the melody of Yankee Doodle Dandy every time I run a full load, I thought that a good place to start. I have a small clothes line on our patio and a handful of clothes pins. Every day this week, I have washed and hung one load of clothes out there. I draw the line at hanging up socks and underwear. For one, I don't have that many clothes pins and for second, it's UNDERwear. It only leaves this house under something.

I'd love to come back in a month and report that my electric bill dropped thirty dollars or that my neighbors were so impressed by my outward display of conserving electricity that they all followed suit. I doubt that will happen, but I'm also glad that Skittles the clothes stealing cat doesn't live in my neighborhood.



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