Things I'm Thinking About

Tag: Coronavirus

Making Progress

The small steps are beginning to add up in my home. There is less plastic coming in, less going to the landfill, and less going into the recycling bin. Recycling has always seemed like a good solution to plastic waste, but it is only a stopgap; it’s become complicated. The old mantra of “reduce, reuse, recycle” is still applicable, but I’m moving toward dropping the “recycle” part of it, replacing it with “rot,” or composting, wherever I can.

This means avoiding plastic as much as possible and opting for compostable bags and containers. It’s become a game at the store: how can I get what I need with the least possible packaging? It feels like a luxury because the food and products that come in paper, glass or metal are often the more expensive brands. Plastic is cheap and prevalent, but it comes at a cost to the planet. I choose glass or metal because they break down eventually into their basic components, unlike plastic. Obviously, it’s impossible to live and eat without having an impact on the earth, but I am trying to tread a little more lightly.

I buy what I can in bulk in my reusable bags or paper bags. An example is buying bread that comes in paper bags, which also probably means it’s from a local bakery. The COVID19 crisis has made this more difficult; most stores have shut down their bulk aisles and don’t allow reusable bags. To get around taking plastic bags, I opt for paper if possible, or take the cart load of groceries out to the car and put them in my own bags there.

Farmers markets are still operating in my town, so that’s another option–though I have not ventured there yet. I pick up a CSA box of local produce weekly which keeps me supplied with veggies, but the farmers market also has bakery items and other pantry supplies that I could take home in my own bags. I found a place to order flour, beans and other dry goods called The Silo Pantry. They deliver in the Bay Area and package everything in paper bags. Most of their products are local, which is an added benefit.

In the laundry room and kitchen I’ve made some easy changes, too. Instead of endless jugs of laundry detergent, oxygen bleach and dishwasher detergent, I’ve changed to a subscription with Dropps. They send me little pods of all three products in cardboard packaging every eight months–the laundry detergent is a liquid and the oxygen bleach and dishwasher detergent are powdered, and all are encased in a clear casing that dissolves in water.

One pod goes in the washing machine or dishwasher for every load. So easy! It works well and smells good–I use the lavender-eucalyptus laundry liquid and the lemon dishwasher detergent. They are also available unscented. I have used some other products, like the Meloria laundry soap powder and oxygen brightener, which comes in a vintage-looking cardboard canister with a little scoop. It’s not as easy as tossing in a Dropp, but it is another good option.

I’ve also done away with plastic bottles of dishwashing liquid and all-purpose spray cleaner. I first tried a refill company called Fillaree. I liked the product and the concept; they send a jug of soap in a container to send back in the included return envelope for a refill when it is empty. I decided to stop using the service when I found similar products at my local refill store, but if you are on the East Coast or don’t have a refill store near you, they are a great option.

Lately I have started using a solid dishwashing bar from Meloria with a bamboo dish brush. It sits on a little cedar tray that drains water away, and it lathers up nicely. My all-purpose spray, also Meloria, comes as little rice-like grains of concentrate packaged in a cardboard canister. A tablespoon in a reusable glass spray bottle filled with water makes an effective cleaner for kitchen and bathroom surfaces–even mirrors. Also worth trying is their Gentle Home Cleaning Scrub for scouring with a walnut shell scour pads.

I’ve incorporated these products and habits into my routine, and I’m motivated to use them–and write about them–because I prefer them and am excited to share them.

Trying to keep plastic at bay is inconvenient though, and during stressful times, the added effort doesn’t seem worth it. There is so much plastic, new and old, and with the COVID19 pandemic, there’s even more: tons and tons of disposable health care products and PPE, as well as plastic packaging and products used as a precaution against spreading the virus. I felt like I was making progress before, but it almost seems ridiculous to try to reduce plastic now.

For now, I have relaxed my efforts. Disposable plastic produce bags have replaced my reusable mesh, and I’m buying bread, English muffins and various comfort foods in single use plastic bags. During the months of stay-at-home orders, easy and disposable just makes more sense. I needed to take a few steps back–but I’m holding out hope that when the anxiety of Coronavirus settles down, I can resume my quest to throw away less plastic.

Normal for Now

This week, the normal for us is Zoom and FaceTime meetings almost every day, shopping for as much as possible online, leaving home rarely, and wearing a face mask when we do go out. This is the new normal because of COVID19. In my family, we have students taking online classes, laid-off workers receiving unemployment checks, teachers learning to distance-teach, essential workers keeping the infrastructure going, medical professionals caring for patients in hospital, workers-from-home consuming neighborhood bandwidth at record rates, and retired folks mastering video chatting. We’re physically distanced and we’re missing our old normal. 

You are probably overloaded with news and speculations, like I am. We are taking in a lot of information and trying to cope. At first, the newness and the sense of danger had me in high gear: taking inventory, stocking up, finding new supply channels, cooking and baking in earnest, and lining up the projects I wanted to take a deep dive into. Unfortunately, deep cleaning never entered into the picture.

Being asked to stay home wasn’t a hardship for me; I am a homebody and relish being told I must do what I always want to do anyway–cancel everything and stay home. It felt good to be doing what I could to fight this threat and keep my community safe by hunkering down. 

As the weeks blurred by, though, projects were started and abandoned, meals were sometimes amazing and often not, books went unfinished and a general sense of anxious fidgeting became my normal state. A few weeks ago my son sent me a picture of masks he made by cutting up his pillowcase. I started thinking about making some too. He sent me the pattern he used, and a quick google search for more patterns made it obvious that many, many others were thinking about this too.

I dug my dusty box of fabric out from the storage area, sorted through the scraps and yardage from long-forgotten projects, and started sewing. Whole days went by with me at my machine and ironing board. I mailed out the first batch, and started on another. Yesterday, I discovered that the Joann fabric store near me is an essential business and is open–crafters rejoice!–and I was able to get more fabric for another round. That was the first project that held my attention for more than a few hours (unless you count marching through five seasons of Poldark on Masterpiece).

People began putting teddy bears in their windows to encourage walkers and connect with neighbors. Households with young children at home can turn a walk into an adventure when searching for stuffies in neighbors’ windows. I started seeing rainbows in windows too, a symbol of the hope that we will all get through this together. I found a big, stuffed bear in the back of a closet and put him in a front window. I wanted to put a rainbow up too, and the idea of knitting one appealed to me. I had put my needles down in January and didn’t feel like picking them up until then.

I found a pattern, ordered the yarn online and started knitting. I just bought more yarn to keep sharing them with my family, little bright reminders of hope. After the rainbows got me out of my slump, I finished up some other pieces that I had left half-finished on the needles, and a few more projects are pushing to the front of the line in my mind. 

My houseplants and garden caught my attention, too. I am an inattentive plant person; I forget to water until I see the leaves withering, and I look past weeds and bushes that need pruning. Puttering around the house, I noticed my plants and started watering. I found some plant food out in the back and blessed some of the slow-growers with a healthy drench. I cleared out weeds, and took the trimmers to a hedge.

I even repotted a root-bound Christmas cactus that has looked half-dead for a couple of years. It was alive, but dull. A few days ago, I noticed that the cactus was growing new, bright green branches, and they were reaching up and away from the old faded, bending branches. Blooms were bursting out, and even the flowers looked bigger and more energetic than usual. Taking it out of its old, cracked plastic pot and giving it more room and fresh potting soil gave it new life. Motivated, I replanted some succulents and geraniums outside. 

COVID19, with all the pain it has caused and the changes it has forced us to make, has given new perspective. The slowed pace of this normal-for-now has quieted the clanging of busyness. For me, the nagging feeling that I should account for every minute and prove my productivity has lost its urgency. I have let the voices telling me what I should be accomplishing fade, and started listening to the whispers of what I want to do.

Like my cactus, I feel like I’ve been repotted. I’m letting go of what is unnecessary, sitting with what is, and taking up what has been quietly tapping at the edges of me to be let in. I can feel the new growth of creativity. 

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