October 2, 2003 ~ Easy Habits

Thursday.

note: This entry won't make much sense if you've not read the previous entry yet.

I'm not in a good place, folks. Still angry. Really depressed.

Keep catching myself staring off into space. Looking blankly out over the backfield at the firs across the way, I realized that my cheeks were wet.

Didn't take a hike today. Didn't have the heart to. It's going to take a while before I can hike anywhere on Jones without feeling uneasy. Half of the mountain is owned by people other than the college. I have an aching suspicion that it won't be long before several more sections of forest on Jones are killed. It really stung, to come across it like that on a hike.

Didn't sleep well last night. Dreams of torn-up, treeless landscapes. And the grinding, grinding, grinding of machines. Seriously. I don't normally have nightmares, but these ones were terrifying. So desolate.

I read through all of my old Jones Mountain hike entries today. I realized that the first time I hiked the mountain was a year ago this coming Tuesday. That was a great hike. I've hiked it numerous times since, often several times a week. Do you remember Autumn's Treasure Pouch? Or the day that I saw the trees dance? So many beautiful memories, there.

I'm upset every time that I hear of a clear-cut, of course, but one has never hit so close to home before. It's never been the clear-cut of a forest that I knew so intimately, a forest that I visit several times a week. I love this forest, and everything in it. I have a relationship with it. I was not exaggerating in the slightest when I called it a good friend. I felt, and still feel, as if someone has stabbed my good friend in cold blood, and was allowed to walk free with no consequences.

Take a moment, right now, to go look at this entry and the one following, where I took tons of pictures on a hike up Jones Mountain. Look hard at those pictures, that vibrant forest.

Now, imagine people stomping through it with chainsaws, systematically killing each and every tree. Imagine huge flatbed trucks pulling up and loading up the trunks. Now, imagine all of the branches and leaves and bushes and undergrowth being thrown into waste bonfires spotting the bald mountainside. Imagine bulldozers and earthmovers overturning all of the dirt, pulling up the stumps. Where once was shade and green, now there is only a ravaged, red clay wasteland.

Seriously. Look at those pictures. Look at them. Standing next to that clear-cut yesterday, I felt nauseous with anger and regret.

I could rant on and on and on about how low my opinion of humanity is right now (yes, myself included). That would do no good, however, and would only make me more frustrated.

Almost all clear-cuts are used to make paper, and most of them, especially younger, mixed types of wood, toilet paper. In memory of that section of Jones Mountain forest, here are the easy things that I have done to cut down on my contribution to those sorts of clear cuts. If several of you pick up a few of these habits, maybe we can prevent somebody else's good friend from dying. Please read these. Many of them are extremely, extremely easy.

First of all, know your recycled papers. You know how sometimes the label will say something like "75% recycled paper, at least 25% post-consumer content"? The first number refers to the overall amount of recycled material in the paper, which can include "pre-consumer" content ("pre-consumer content" means remaindered and unused scraps from manufacturers and such). Post-consumer content is best, because it comes from paper that has gone through manufacturing to the consumer, and the consumer has used it and then put it into their recycling bin to be delivered back to a recycling center to be re-used. The more post-consumer content you have, the more thoroughly used the paper was before it was recycled, which is a good thing to support. 100% recycled paper is fantastic, but 100% recycled post-consumer content paper is even better.

Buying recycled paper creates a market for it, and makes funding for more recycling programs possible. If you don't have a recycling program in your area, then you can at least work toward one by buying recycled products. Read labels. Of everything. Any paper product that you buy, read the label, find the type with the most recycled content. Shop around, look at online retailers if you need to.

The flip side of this, of course: Recycle. I recycle every single scrap of paper that I use. Seriously. Little bitty scraps, even. When I see someone else throw away paper, I surreptitiously pull it out and recycle it instead. All cities by now have recycling programs, many of them curbside recycling. Even if your area doesn't have curb-side pick-up of recycling, or if you live in a non-urban area, maybe there's a recycling center somewhere reasonably close-by. It wouldn't be too much of a hassle to take your household waste paper once every few months. Check local schools and colleges. Chances are, they may have a recycling program.

Pay close attention to what you use, and really think about it. Consider alternatives. No paper is, of course, better than recycled paper, where applicable. See where you can reduce your waste everywhere around you. Several examples:

Morgan and I got a set of cloth napkins that we use for every meal instead of paper. We have a box where we throw the dirty ones to be washed. We also have a large assortment of cloth rags to use for messes, spills, and cleaning jobs, rather than paper towels. When I have a particularly runny nose, rather than going through a box of tissues I carry a cloth napkin around with me.

I stopped using disposable feminine hygiene products. If you want to know about alternatives, ask me, I know of several.

We never, ever use paper, plastic, or styrofoam plates. Always washable dishes and silverware. When we know we are going to be going somewhere where disposables may be used, we bring our own. There's always somewhere to rinse them, then bring them home to be cleaned.

When you go to a restaurant and expect to have leftovers, bring your own Tupperware.

We switched over to 100% post-consumer content recycled toilet paper, tissue, and printer paper.

When we lived in a dorm, I noticed that the bathrooms had paper towels that people would, of course, use and throw away. Appalled by the huge amount of waste, I collected several used hand towels. Every morning, I would put a fresh hand towel up in the bathroom, under a little sign that I had made, asking people to please feel free to use the cloth towel and conserve paper. Then I'd change the towel out the next morning, washing the used towels with the rest of my regular laundry. It didn't take much effort at all. Where do you spend a lot of time where you could do something similar?

When I started working for the MFA Program, I noticed that they go through a ton of paper in that office. An entire graduate program is run out of it, so that makes sense. However, the paper had no recycled content whatsoever. I asked my supervisor about it, and we switched over to recycled paper for everything.

Over the time that I have worked there, I've noticed several things that could be changed, and we easily switched them over. For example, whenever a piece of paper is done being used, I check to see if the back side is blank. If so, I don't recycle it yet. Instead, I use it for something that doesn't need a clean backside. For example, I'll copy fax coversheets onto the backside. Or I'll cut the paper into fourths, turn it clean side up, and make note-paper stacks next to every phone in the office. Drafts of print jobs can use these papers too. Also, what do you copy or print that could be copied or printed double sided? Several of our forms, I condensed into half the length by using double-sided printing and copying. No extra effort, but a lot less paper.

When I worked for the magazine, me and the other editors changed our policy to publish our magazine on 100% post-consumer content recycled paper. That's thousands and thousands of sheets of paper every year. If you are in a position to change something at that level, or at least suggest that it be changed, please do. And if you notice that a publication or book is printed on recycled paper, let the publisher know that you appreciate it. If it's not, perhaps let them know you're disappointed.

If possible, read your news online instead of subscribing to a newspaper.

Here's a really easy one. Buy or obtain or make a few canvas shopping bags. I have seven of them. I keep a few next to the door for when I walk to the store, a few in Pokey, and a few in Ryoga. I've made it a habit so that I remember to grab a few before I go into a store. This way, I don't use a paper or plastic bag that will just be thrown away. Plus, a canvas bag carries more at a time, is more comfortable to carry, and will last forever. Do you make huge family grocery-shopping trips? Make it part of your routine to take several canvas bags with you. Maybe buy one every two months, until you have enough, if you want to spread the cost out. I got all of mine either free through a convention or the like, or for two bucks at the Goodwill.

I could go on and on. Look around you. Think about the paper that you're using. Think: This is a tree. Do I need to use it? How could I better use it? What could I use instead? Is it as recycled as possible?

I am so very serious. How wasteful our culture is just makes me sick at heart. Please, just think about it.

I'm very thankful for all of the sympathy that some of you left in the guestbook and in my email in response to yesterday's entry. This ordeal hit me really hard, and knowing that you're thinking of me really does help. Thank you.





Footnotes:

odds & ends: My face is numb, and I couldn't smile if I wanted to. I could possibly grimace and drool. That better portrays my mood anyway. Had two teeth drilled today to fix the problems mentioned in this entry, and several sealants applied. Getting my teeth drilled was nothing, compared to the dread that most people talk about it with. I mean, orthodontia was a much more harrowing and painful experience, one that lasted most of my child hood. Not a fun way to spend my afternoon by any stretch, but better than I expected.
weather: Cold, clear, beautiful.
observation: Hm. I was not myself. I can't think of much of anything.
one year ago: I posted a fictional story.
two years ago: I considered the implications of a rather startling scientific fact.
three years ago: I admitted the difficulties involved with having no television.
historical journal: "Rowed up the river as far as the lock, the longest row I ever took. Reflection on the folly of supposing oneself incapable of that which one has never properly attempted." ~ William Windham in his diary, October 2, 1784.

online journals:

"Some writers write in dear little garrets, with a cup of cammomile tea at their sides. Some write on lonely beaches. Some write on bleak moors. I daresay some write in front of the telly. But, my darlings, I beat them all. I write here." ~ Meg in this entry of They May Say I'm a Dreamer.

"This is slaughter for the sake of slaughter. A willful intent to exterminate this population of nearly-harmless herps. A dead youngster on the shelf on the right. And the remains of another down in the main crevice. The frontless mass of one of the gorgeous, burgundy-brown juveniles in the front of the pit." ~ Grouse in this entry of Grousin' in the Sage.

previous / archive / next



I love feedback!
dawntreader@fallingstar.net

© 1999-2007 Melissa Ray Davis