Showing posts with label No Impact Man. Show all posts
Showing posts with label No Impact Man. Show all posts

Monday, 16 January 2012

Lemon curd


Normally we stick to eating wholemeal bread because it’s good for us as well as delicious, but white bread with lemon curd is so scrumptious, like cake really.  The only difficult thing was having the patience to wait for the lemon curd to cool down!

Recently – around Christmas time I think, when we’d been having a bigger variety of food than usual, I began to feel horrified about the quantities of packaging generated, and I came into the new year determined to do something about it.  Spurred on by reading Colin Beavan’s No Impact Man, which I’m halfway through and really enjoying, I’ve been reviewing what we buy and what it comes wrapped in.

We try to favour local shops or locally sourced produce – we do buy from Sainsburys and the Co-op though they are large chains, because they include a lot of organic, free-range, responsibly sourced, fairly traded products, and they make their baked goods and cereals from British grain, keeping the food miles down to some extent.  Even with this good track record, practicality means more rather than less packaging in their stores, besides which we like to buy from small family businesses when that option doesn’t bankrupt us (it’s often, though not always, much more expensive).  We keep our costs down by the type of goods we buy rather than by shopping with giants.  Beans will always be cheaper than cheese or meat, by a long way when the animal protein food is bought mindful of the care to the animal while it was alive.

We separate and recycle our garbage conscientiously, but even recycling is an industrial process costly to the Earth, and no packaging is better than recycled packaging.  So we’ve reviewed our buying patterns, and this is getting easier all the time to do; of the five of us living here, three (soon four) work freelance, and that gives us the space in our time budget to dot about here and there making purchases at the little shops scattered widely round the sprawl of Hastings and St Leonards.

We have changed to getting our bread and vegetables from local bakers and greengrocers – the bread costs half as much again or even double in price if we do that, but not the fruit and veg.  There we can either put the food unwrapped straight in our basket, or have it packed in a paper bag.  As the paper bags are excellent kindling, either is fine.

Dairy produce is not a problem because we shouldn’t eat it – it makes us all ill.  We slipped back into eating it at the end of last year and coughed and sneezed and snotted along until we faced the reality that we really had to knock this off.  I am no fan of margarine though, and will continue to opt for butter, but I care where the butter comes from – how the cows are treated, when and how their calves are slaughtered, if they are allowed to run with their mothers etc – so sourcing that is a bit of a headache.  I do like meat, and have come cautiously to the view that eating meat means giving an animal life as well as death, but I am also aware of the role meat plays in the big killers – cancer, diabetes, heart disease as well as CJD and various other grim illnesses.  And I don’t live easy with the notion that some creature’s whole life was brought to an end for me to eat this one meal gone in minutes.  Not to mention the huge amounts of water used in animal husbandry, and the 35-1 ratio of grain to meat in every pound of animal flesh eaten (grain that was 20% protein anyway).   So I have long stretches of eating vegan, and admire it as a way of life.  But I find a little animal-sourced food helpful to my physical energy and wellbeing.  Ideally I’d go for probiotic plain yoghourt, eggs, a little fish, and butter.  The yoghourt presents problems for packaging and does gunge up my system so I’ll have that only rarely.  The fish is easy because we live right by the sea, and I can take a plastic box to the shop instead of getting it wrapped in plastic bags.  The butter – ideally I’d like to find a smallholder with goats and cows and buy the butter of either animal straight from her: I’ll go to the farmer’s market and ask.  The eggs – we have a brilliant solution!  Next door to the church where our Grace and the Wretched Wretch worship, somebody sells eggs from the garden gate.  They keep rescued battery hens, and leave out boxes of eggs for people to help themselves.  The prices are very modest, there’s an honesty box for the money, and empty egg boxes are dropped off to be used again.  That fulfils all my criteria: zero food miles and Grace was going to church anyway, so there isn’t even travel to the shop), compassion for the animals, nothing has died, small family business, zero packaging (except re-used which is better than re-cycled), no shop-fittings (lights, electronic tills, displays) using Earth resources, the animals are naturally fed and free-range. Perfect!

So the lemon curd in the picture was made with lemons (no packaging, straight in my own cloth Buddha bag) from the greengrocer near Hebe’s masonry down by the sea, margarine from Trinity wholefoods (a co-operative down in Hastings), fair-traded sugar from the Co-op (a big chain but democratic), and eggs from next door to Pett chapel.  Cooked up on our electric hotplate fuelled by sunshine via our solar panels on the roof.  Eaten with bio-dynamic butter from free-range cows via Trinity wholefoods, on sinfully white bread from the baker round the corner from the masonry.  In the sunshine :0)


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365 Day 16 (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, see here)



2 pairs of trousers, sent to Barnados charity shop.  Two things to go today, to balance with an incoming garment.  If I have something completely new, I balance it by disposing of two items that don’t even appear in the blogged list – but the garment here was something that used to be mine that our Alice has had for a few years and now given back to me – a fleece hoodie.  I’ll add in an extra book given away but not blogged, to be sure I’m not accumulating.

Monday, 9 January 2012

Buying things

While cruising around the blogs of friends the other day, I read Beth Dopp’s reading list with great interest.  Thanks for including my In Celebration of Simplicity, Beth – much appreciated!

Intrigued by one of her favourites from her reading of 2011, No Impact Man by Colin Beavan, I went across to Amazon and read what I could of the Look Inside preview.  Brilliant!  Funny, inspiring, thought-provoking, hard-hitting.  I am reading it now on my Kindle.

That brings me to a crossroads, a question place.  Part of my 365 adventure is getting rid of 2 things for every new thing I acquire (even if that’s donated by another member of the household from their chuck-out).  So when I bought 3 fleece sweaters (I wear these constantly) from Lands' End UK in their big January sale, I duly donated 6 garments from my closet to a charity caring for children with cancer, and those garments won’t appear in the 365 blogged items.

But

Though that does indeed keep down my level of possessions, I think it would be more frugal and environmentally responsible if I slow right down on acquisition of new things – especially mass-produced new things probably made in sweat-shops.  I did check out the manufacturing ethics of Lands' End, and was pleased to read on their website that their manufacturing partners use no child or forced labour, and pay fair wages – even so reading “made in Cambodia” on the label stops their reassurances laying my suspicions entirely to rest.  

Part of my New Year resolutions and mindset behind the 365 adventure is to remember the human and cherish the Earth; so though in a moment of absentmindedness I did order those fleeces and will be pleased to have them (they certainly contribute to living with very low winter heating as we do), in general I will be trying to cut right back on the shopping and ensuring that the purchases I do make are for the most part hand-made, local (or fairly traded in from overseas) and sourced from small family businesses.

But I hadn’t given any thought to Kindle purchases.  I guess though they help keep the house de-cluttered, there is such a thing as electronic clutter too.  So I will investigate my memory sticks and consign 2 large files to the bin to balance the clutter-scales again after buying Colin Beavan’s No Impact Man.

I am not in favour of simply stopping buying things, though.  My daughters are musicians and craftspeople, I am a writer and the Badger is a publisher.  We know all too well that being able to continue to fulfil what is truly vocational for us, not merely commercial, depends on sales of a viable level as well as frugality at home.  If no-one buys my books, only borrows them, then the book I have waiting for a yea-or-nay at the publisher (and depending on the sales of the ones already contracted) will never see the light of day.  That would be a pity because it was written not as a money-spinner but as a way of making available to the imagination of the reader some scriptural truths very health-giving for our society.  So I believe in buying books that have something worthwhile to say.  And I believe in supporting honest, responsible business enterprise.  It’s just the greedy consumer-fest I think needs reigning in, and the irresponsible over-creation of packaging and worthless knick-knacks.


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365 Day 9 (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, see here)



 Last year our church had a fund-raising drive to pay for installing new toilets. 

When I was a child at primary school, we changed to decimal currency, so that shillings, half-crowns, sixpences and florins all vanished from our lives.  Up until that point, a penny was written 1d – an abbreviation of 1 denarius.  It changed to 1p (one penny) and shrank its value from one twentieth to one hundredth of a pound in a single deft move.

If you wish to use the public toilets in, say, London Charing Cross railway station today, I believe the going rate to get in through the automated turnstile is 30p.

When I was a child there would be no turnstile at the entrance, but each of the doors to the individual stalls in the public toilets would be opened by inserting a coin into the slot – 1d, a penny.  Hence, “spending a penny” was the euphemism of choice in polite society for temporarily vanishing into the bathroom to empty one’s bladder.

So it was that someone at St Johns came up with the idea of “Save a penny to spend a penny”, and asked us all to save our small loose change – the coppers, the 1p and 2p coins – to support the fundraising drive.

This struck me as something our household could comfortably do, so I pressed into service for silver 5p pieces an old hummus carton and for the coppers a bucket that had once held meringues bought to share with a cup of tea by our friends Erik Kuilenberg and Carien Bloema on their family visit with their children Ben, Huub and Jolijt last summer.

I cut slots in the lids like real money boxes, and we started saving.

In my somewhat OCD manner, I felt reluctant to part with the accumulated loot until the tubs were actually full.  The toilets were built, blessed, up and running before our containers reached the half-way mark.  But still we plodded on.  This week it occurred to me – you know what?  The time has gone.  So I put the tubs out for recycling, and took the stash of mini-loot up to the coin-star machine at the supermarket, which yielded £12.82 that I duly added to the regular collection at church last Sunday.