The view from the top of the bottom of the world
Last night was 'eating dinner in front of the telly' night, because we are all class here at Chez Blueday. So after watching Black Books I set up the lap top for a viewing of The Story of Stuff. It may be that I am the last person in the known universe to have discovered this fab presentation of the facts of the production of consumer goods that is easily assimilated even by eight year olds, but that is me, not-the-early-adopter.
I wanted to show the family why I am getting a bit tetchy about..stuff. And waste. And packaging. And disposable anything. There is one little moment among the many moments in this video that is making me rethink every action today. For every garbage can we trail out to the kerb, there were SEVENTY garbage cans-full of waste generated up-stream, in the resource generating process, in the manufacturing and transportation and distribution. SEVENTY.
Today we drove most of the way up a mountain, then scrambled up the last bit to the top in the brilliant sunshine and bitter cold of the first weekend of winter. We took a picnic, with salad rolls and thermos and slice, and chocolate, all the usual. Here I need to confess - I am the plastic wrap queen. I rather like my sandwiches to stay together, and arrive fresh in situ. Today I packed the rolls into a lunchbox with no plastic wrap. Yes, sometimes I do live dangerously. The rolls were firmly packed, and all survived. They were not stale (der, they were inside an airtight plastic container. What have I been thinking all this time?) Because, somehow, humanity managed picnics for a number of years before the invention of plastic. I remember my mum telling me that her mum wrapped her school sandwiches in nasturtium leaves to keep them fresh. I wonder how the sandwiches stayed together? I will find out. Stay tuned.
Does anyone else cater for plastic-free picnics?
Tonight is rubbish night. That bin out on the kerb has seventy ghost bins gathered behind it, reproaching me.
Small child, big mountain. No rubbish or pollution, because we have outsourced it to somewhere far, far away.