It's National Thrift Shop Day. Help them go out of business.

I'm not going to mark National Thrift Shop Day by suggesting that everybody out there should go and buy something at a thrift shop (although you know that's one of my favourite things to do).

I'm not even going to mark it by suggesting that everybody should donate something today (although you know how much fun I have unpacking books at the MCC store. It's Christmas every week).

I'm going to suggest something far more radical.

Non-profit thrift shops...in spite of all the good they do by raising money for the ministries and charities that run them and by giving lots of stuff a potential second life...reflect something about our world, our culture, our attitude towards buying and un-buying stuff, that isn't a good thing. In a perfect world, ministries that run thrift stores would have to find another way to raise money, because people would be buying just what they need, using things longer, fixing what's broken, trading what's outgrown, borrowing what they can, re-purposing things themselves. And those organizations wouldn't totally mind that, I think, because any one of them accepting donations of Stuff must deal with an Increasingly Big Headache of Responsible Disposal.

So keep the thrift store of your favourite charity in mind today by not buying one particular new thing (besides food or other consumables). That way, when that one unbought thing doesn't arrive at the hypothetical end of its usefulness to you, you won't have to drive it to the thrift store. Nobody will have to unpack it; nobody will have to price it and hang it on a rack; nobody will have to pay the cost of the computerized cash register system and the credit card fees; or (if it sits unsold) nobody will have to bale it up and figure out where to send it next. By not buying something new today, you've created one less future thing-in-thing-out decision for a crew of staff and volunteers. Wasn't that easy?

(But you could also send the charity a financial contribution.)

Paper or Plastic? It's not about the recycling.

I read Paper or Plastic, by Daniel Imhoff, very quickly, at the request of our thrift store manager who wants the staff to have a chance at it too.

The book is almost fifteen years old, and it's showing its age somewhat but still worth looking at. It's one of a series of three books, and this one is, very specifically, about the issue of packaging, large and small, including shipping packaging such as pallets. What is our burgeoning need for packaging stealing from the earth, and how in the world will we put it back? It reminded me of a rude meme misquoting The Lorax: "I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees; litter again, and I'll break your (expletive) knees." But is anger all we can offer?

The message that came across from the book was not so much about the ins and outs of whether paper or plastic packaging can be recycled better, but the huge amount of resources they both demand in the first place. These days everybody knows that plastic is bad bad bad; but the truth is that paper (and wood and cardboard) hurts too. The Lorax speaking for the trees has more to worry about than litter; and that's just the packaging, we're not even talking about products. Imhoff does point out how much primary packaging relates to the thing inside it, or the amount of product demanded in one package. If people didn't think they required cup-sized amounts of yogurt, for example, then the recyclability of small plastic yogurt cups wouldn't be an issue. Or you can look at the problem more as the sheer amount of stuff that gets made and needs packaging. A thousand pairs of shoes need a thousand sets of boxes or wraps or hang-tags. If everyone bought fewer shoes in the first place, there would (obviously) be fewer trimmings to dispose of.

But how can we fight back against over-packaging caused by over-production? First and most obviously, to make do, or make do longer, with the thing we have instead of buying something else.  Intentional contentment will save us from a certain amount of Loraxian knee-breaking.

Beyond that? Thrift stores (yes, I made the connection). Yard sales, rummage sales, buying used goods locally through online ads. Swapping and borrowing. Upcycling stuff. You get double points for anything that is both pre-used and that doesn't come in a box or bag you can't easily re-use (compostable is okay).

More ways to avoid packaging, and maybe save money too: growing food. Making things at home that otherwise come in a package, like cookies or yogurt, as long as the ingredients don't produce even more packages. Buying things in person from local makers. Shopping at bulk stores and produce markets that let you re-use containers. Buying big sacks of things if it works for you. (We used to buy oatmeal and beans that way, through a buying co-op).

And yes, buying less overall. Sharing things among more people. Renting things you'll need only briefly. Having gift-free parties and swag-free meetings. In some ways, that could be more important than worrying about whether it's paper or plastic. Because our houses and apartments and storage units and closets and backpacks are packaging too.

Save some packaging. Save some trees. Save some knees.

Free fashion-revolution fanzine

Fanzine #002: Loved Clothes Last is free to read online at The Fashion Revolution. How generous is that?

Wednesday Hodgepodge: Down the hatch

1. January 24th is National Compliment Day. Is it easy or not so easy for you to accept a compliment? Share a recent compliment you've given or received.

Not so easy: I was told early and often "don't show off."

I was told by someone at the thrift store that I am a "book sorting machine." I took that as a compliment.

2. Ten five little things you are loving right now.

1. A rare sunshiny morning here, and we're getting the best of it through the balcony window.
2. New-to-me sweater.
3. A quick game of pool last night with Mr. Fixit (our building has a library-with-pool-table room).
4. Online databases that have replaced having to hunt through the periodicals index. And you can use them at home, sitting in the sunshiny window.
5. The colours of Janet Read's paintings.

3. Would people describe you as a positive person? Do you see yourself that way? I read here  a list/description of eight things positive people do differently-

Positive people find something to look forward to every day, they celebrate the small stuff, they're kind, they stay busy, accept responsibility for their actions, forgive themselves, know when to move on, and resist comparisons

Which action on the list would you say you do regularly? Which action could you add to your life to give you a more positive outlook? If you're a positive person, what's something you do regularly that's not on the list?

Whoah, that sounds like giving myself a compliment.

Just say that yes, I work at those things, and appreciate them also in others. Everybody needs more "rainy day people" around.

4. Homemade chicken soup, beef stew, or a bowl of chili...what's your pleasure on a cold winter's day?

We have all three quite often, so I'm not sure. I might pick the chili because I like the cheese and tortilla chips that go with it, and I like making the leftovers into a taco salad.

5. The best part of my day is....

Depends on the day. It might be doing a thing I'm doing, or it might be finishing a thing I'm doing. Or it might even be thinking about something I'm going to be doing.

6.  Insert your own random thought here.

We got a bunch of decluttering books in the thrift store yesterday, which is a conundrum in itself. Did someone give up on decluttering, or are they now such experts that they don't need the books? Anyway, those led to an interesting conversation with one of the full-time staff, on the subject of fast fashion and donations and what's happening in countries like Kenya (Kenya doesn't want any more used clothes). The MCC store, like all the others, gets more clothes than it can sell, and has to dispose of the rest. Is the solution convincing people to buy less and hang onto their clothes longer? Blaming the industry and the retailers? Or concentrating on the disposal, landfill issues? The global garbage problem can feel like we're standing under a massive garbage chute and getting buried in falling bags, without any control over the situation. I think we need to see ourselves at the top of the chute instead, understanding that we're responsible for what we drop down there. The donations are good, and they all help support (in MCC's case) international programs like schools; but the fact that people have so much to donate, and keep on buying more to replace those things--that's the big problem.

Linked from The Wednesday Hodgepodge at From This Side of the Pond.

April 24th is Fashion Revolution Day

A problem

The slogan posted on the Fashion Revolution site is "Be curious. Find out. Do something." When we are handed a new piece of information, we can choose to react in different ways. We might be able to blend it into our existing model of how the world works. We can refuse to believe it. Or we might have to shift a paradigm to allow it to make sense. And once we accept an idea, we need to act on it.

Fashion Revolution Day, for the past four years, has marked the anniversary of the Rana Plaza tragedy in Bangladesh. Something else happened less than ten days ago, that seems to evoke the same "that's so not fair but what can I do about it?" reaction. That's if you even heard about it on the news.

Sri Lanka Death Toll Rises in Garbage Dump Collapse

An explosion in the dump on Friday afternoon caused a portion of the mound to collapse, sweeping scores of houses off their foundations and burying others, trapping residents inside. Survivors described hearing a loud noise and running outside to see nearby dwellings rushing in their direction on a tide of debris, surrounded by smoke.

A team of geological investigators, who have been gathering evidence at the dump, believe that the explosion occurred when methane naturally produced by decaying waste ignited, Mr. Kodippili said.

Residents of the working-class neighborhoods around the dump had complained for years of reeking water flooding through their narrow lanes, where it collected during the hottest months of the year, providing a breeding ground for mosquitoes.

A similar thing happened last month in Ethiopia. 

Living...and then dying...in a mountain of collapsing garbage sounds like it should be one of Dante's levels of hell. Who's at fault? Who made all that garbage? What combination of reasons forces people to live there? Is that shocking enough to inspire a paradigm shift?

A solution

Did you ever see this movie?

Do you remember the very last scene, as those who were exiled from a toxic, dirty Earth finally returned?



Let's grow some pizza plants.

I'm serious.

Anybody can go buy stuff. Anybody can throw stuff in the trash (and our family has certainly created our own share lately, cleaning out this house). To restore what is broken, we have to think differently. But we also have to start with one small, positive action. Planting a seed. Looking for "less is more." Vlogging about your favourite old piece of clothing instead of buying something new (that's what some people are doing for Fashion Revolution Day).

I don't have a big solution. But I do believe that a lot of small ones add up.


Birds and Vines wall hanging, made in Haiti from a discarded metal oil drum (Ten Thousand Villages)

Zero Waste Home (Book Review)

Zero Waste Home: The Ultimate Guide to Simplifying Your Life By Reducing Your Waste, by Bea Johnson. 2013, Simon & Schuster.

I recently watched Bea Johnson on a Youtube TedTalk about the ZeroWaste lifestyle. When she evangelizes about reducing waste, people listen. She seems to have earned a certain amount of "street cred" by her testimony of a sinful (i.e. overspending and overtrashing) past, and by the fact that she practices her gospel of glass-not-plastic while raising two teenagers (in California). Besides, she's an attractive woman with an easygoing speaking style. If viewers were expecting a hellfire and damnation sermon about plastic straws, it wasn't going to happen.

I borrowed Zero Waste Home from the library, mostly because of our impending garbage collection restrictions, and also because we've been making an extra effort to streamline our possessions. I figured out two things quickly: first, this is (like listening to Bea Johnson speak) an enjoyable, chatty, practical book. Second, in spite of the fact that I like the book and got a few ideas for things we might try here, or products we might look for, I will not be a Zero Waster any time soon, if ever. There are just too many things I would have to say no to, and some of them are very good things, even if they do come in non-compostable packaging. When we were at the very busy Euro-Foods store this morning, I wondered how the meat and cheese counter people (and the already-antsy customers) would react to someone slowing things down even more by bringing in glass jars. Along with meat (wrapped in butcher paper) and three prepared cabbage rolls (which they put into a foam clamshell), we bought frozen perogies (in a plastic wrapper), tea (in cardboard boxes), chocolate (in wrappers), a glass jar of sauerkraut, doughnuts and rolls (which we put into plastic bags), and some cheese (which came in foil-wrapped triangles inside a round cardboard box, you know the kind). So we brought home just as much packaging garbage as we would have from buying supermarket foods; but at the same time we were supporting a locally-run store with its own bakery, meat processing, and cabbage-roll-wrapping facilities; plus the small company that made the perogies and so on. In a Zero Waste lifestyle, I guess we could take in jars and ask for the cabbage rolls and pork loin to be put in those; we could make our own sauerkraut; we could choose a different kind of cheese that doesn't come in extra packaging. And we probably wouldn't be buying the Polish chocolate bars, or the perogies. Again, all this comes out of the choices we make every day, and Bea Johnson makes a very good point about it: those choices are based on the ideas that are the most important to us. If we are convinced that every bit of paper and plastic and styrofoam should be rejected for the sake of the planet and/or for our health and/or for our peace of mind, then saying "no" is a no-brainer, and it's totally worth giving up boxed tea and perogies in a plastic wrapper. I'm just not sure that that's the best goal for our family, right now.

I found her take on clothing interesting, and somewhat surprising. She has little interest in promoting the purchase of new sustainably-made clothing, preferring to shop what's already been produced, at thrift stores or by swapping clothes with friends. She gives a sample list of the contents of her own closet, which comes out to around the same amount of clothes as a Project 333 wardrobe. But when she describes being able to sweep all her clothes into one bag and leave the closet bare for visiting renters (and having all the members of her family do the same), I realize that that level of proficiency in Tiny-Wardrobe-ness, like the problem of boxed groceries, is probably not where I need to be aiming right now. I also don't see myself using cocoa or cornstarch as makeup anytime soon. Or making my own glue.

However, I am not dissing everything that the Johnsons do, by any means. While I don't agree with some of her thoughts on population planning, or the small value she puts on owning books, I am in total agreement about the need for children to have more time outdoors, less time plugged in, and fewer but better toys. When it comes to the bigger picture of trying to live responsibly and safely, I think they have a lot of the right ideas. The question then comes down to how we implement those ideas, and how far we take them before they run smack into other (also valuable) values.

Final take from a still not quite converted reader? Worthwhile picking up in any case for the generous amount of practical homekeeping help (even a few recipes). You might also want to check out the Zero Waste blog.

Is anti-materialism garbage? And other questions.

If there's anything in the less-is-more, few possessions and no-garbage movement that makes you slightly itchy, you're not alone. Although you may feel slightly guilty about that reaction; after all, it was Christians who popularized the phrase More-With-Less. The Scriptures have plenty to say about how messed up the rich man is, and why we shouldn't love "the world," however you define it. But that can get us into guilty legalism, or a Nathaniel-Hawthorne-esque picture of solemn, black-garbed lives. Or, in this decade, we're more likely to think of stark white, minimally-furnished rooms. Whether the concern is for our souls or for the planet, we seem to end up in the same place. Possessions are troublesome. Clothes are only for warmth and modesty. Brownies should be made out of black beans to justify their existence.

There is nothing new about the argument for and against things that give us pleasure. I think even St. Paul ran into it with his churches (e.g. his letter to Timothy, referring to people who tried to ban too many things). Yes, the days are evil, and we are to mortify the flesh, etc. On the other hand, every good and perfect gift is from the Father, and it is not sinful to enjoy and be thankful for the useful and/or the beautiful. In certain situations, you might find yourself grateful for the invention of disposable diapers or plastic water bottles. Or, equally, for the life of an artist whose work gives you joy. Or for a bunch of flowers on a difficult day.

It is a good thing, I think, for the extreme minimalists to ask big, uncomfortable questions, and for the rest of us to consider the answers they come up with. Is more recycling what's really needed, for instance, or just less produced and bought to recycle? What happens (asked one person) when the recyclables are recycled into something non-recyclable? In our own region, I hope that the current push to blue-box and green-bin more of our waste will be met at the other end by something other than chucking it in the landfill. But how do you really know where anything goes? Did my thrift-donated sweater clothe someone locally, or did it get bundled overseas to be donated or resold? Is a disposed-of laptop now getting picked apart by someone struggling for food in China? Is one endpoint better than another?

Is it a worthwhile pursuit to bring home cheese in a glass jar instead of a plastic package, for the sake of less garbage? Or, equally, for someone else to then post diatribes about the wastefulness of animal products, even in a glass jar? St. Paul knew about this, and so did Jesus when he talked about tithing herbs and straining out gnats. Are we creating the big picture, or are we missing it? Is it better to special-order a refillable pen and bottle of ink, or to simply buy what's on the Walmart shelf and not waste time worrying about it? Are the socks I bought hurting somebody in an Asian factory? Should I have spent the extra effort tracking down some that claim to be all-natural, fair-trade, or both? Or could I have used that same energy and time listening, reading, walking, helping?

Does God mind if we go out after church for a burger and fries?

Are there one-size answers to these questions, or are they all maybe yes, maybe no? If you have any thoughts, I'd like to hear them.

Day...two. (On garbage restrictions and making things out of nothings)

Yesterday's post about One

The number Two has a particular significance right now in terms of Stuff. In a very few weeks, our area moves to limited garbage pickup, and we will be allowed the equivalent of two fifty-pound garbage bags per week, and garbage over the limit will have to be tagged with (you guessed it) Two-dollar bag tags. Except that the idea of a fifty-pound garbage bag seems excessive, especially since they also have a rule (quite logical) that the bag has to be able to hold whatever's inside it. Right now a limited pickup seems weird and hard to get used to, but I suppose it will be like the introduction of always having to use telephone area codes from a few years back: after awhile you can't remember what it was like just to type in a seven-digit number.

So the question is not only how we are going to be able to master the art of packing and lifting fifty-pound garbage bags (says I, who have never in my life had to weigh garbage), but (more relevant) what's going or not going inside those bags. Which comes back to the questions of what we buy, what we use, how we use it, how we dispose of it. Because if we buy a thing, at some point it, or its outsides or insides, are going to be left somewhere. And obviously, the fewer things that end up in those Two bags, the better.

For us, the main alternative is going to be the Green Bin (food waste, paper napkins, pet bedding).

The second strategy is something we already try to do: use things longer and in different ways so that we don't have to buy as many new things. I am not of the school that thinks hot-gluing dried-out pens in a wreath shape makes a pretty wall decoration (if you remember a certain book review I wrote awhile ago); but I do hang onto things and try to make them work in new ways. The photo below was our not-quite completed hall decoration this Christmas (I added some red beads to the cups later on). The inner and outer glass jar parts were bought several years ago, and the bits and pieces inside the jar were a lot of absolutely useless trimmings from old thrifted candle rings. It's sitting on one of those wicker holders you use with paper plates, surrounded with pinecones cut from more candle rings, and tied with some ribbon that came on a gift. I even had the red candle in our stash. The doily and cups were inherited from Mr. Fixit's grandma.

More to the point of this post: Where Is It Now? As of yesterday, the cups, doily, and flat basket are back in the cupboard. I stored the ribbon and pinecones...maybe we'll use them again. The jar full of trimmings is also in a cupboard. I may use it as-is next Christmas, or maybe not.

The third strategy, and one that I think we may have more trouble with, is using fewer containers that have to be disposed of. Buying refill or bulk options, things like that. I like mixing my own sloppy joe and taco seasonings (and there's no package to throw away), but it's never been under coercion. We don't shop at warehouse club stores, or buy the giant economy size (especially with just three people, one guinea pig); but we may have to double-think anything that comes in a non-recyclable box.

Will the Limit of Two make much difference to the way our Treehouse runs? I'm trying to see it as a learning opportunity rather than an annoyance...and it's not like we have a choice in the matter. So stay tuned.