Transition to nowhere

My, but it's been awhile. It's hard to summarize the last two weeks, but I'll give you the quick and dirty:

• 6-month internship in DC ended mid-August
• Flipped out over trying to decide what I'm doing next
• Decided to move to Greensboro, NC
• Bought train ticket to Greensboro, NC
  
• Decided against moving to Greensboro, NC
• Parents saw me flipflopping around like a fish out of water and offered the townhouse in DE for a bit
• Decided to visit NC instead of moving there
• A week after my internship ended, finally started relaxing
  
• Somehow still have a boyfriend and a family

So, the beau and I in North Carolina, having a not-quite vacation. It's almost like a vacation except we're both unemployed and have no specific prospect of employment at the current time, plus we neither of us have outstanding amounts of savings. Anyway, life is more fun that way.

Thus, I have not written. But there have been many discussions about eco-living in this state of being between the beau and I. So hopefully, I'll write about that.

I can, at least, make a recommendation about something you can watch that might change your life. My friend Steve in Greensboro lent us this DVD, The Corporation, and now we can't stop thinking about it. We may watch it again. I'd say it's biased, except that they also interviewed folks who work for large corporations and they were quite proud of their statements regarding the exploitation of various resources, including the environment, sweatshop labor, and the American public. It was an in-depth and unique take on the impact of corporations, and it's honestly totally convinced me that one of the best things I can do for the environment is to avoid supporting large corporations at all costs.

If you're curious, the movie site is here and you can view the full documentary on Youtube in 23 chapters.

I hate cars, but they do stuff.

My life has been foiled again by my lack of car ownership.

Actually, I lied. My life is great. I've been car-free for a few years now, after I ditched Grandma's old Buick Regal.

I'm willing to admit that my hatred of cars could stem from this particular car. It got me where I needed to go, and it held up fairly well for several eight-hour excursions between home and school. However, the thing was a boat. A tank. A beast. That, and it broke down a bunch. The alternator, for example, when I was driving home from work one night. Simultaneously, the coolant hoses sprung a leak, so my lights grew progressively dimmer as the fog rolling out from under the hood grew progressively thicker.

Then there was the time when the coolant hose came detached from the engine. I am in no way a knowledgable person when it comes to automobiles, but I understand that the engine is a very important, technical, and heavy part of the car. This particular problem meant that the engine had to be taken out temporarily in order to fix the hose. I got the thing towed to a very nice mechanic who gave me a massive discount -- he only charged me $400. Also, he gave me a free pen.

Despite the free pen, I became pretty much disenchanted with cars. I have a life, you know, Car. I'm not made of money, and I don't enjoy the mechanic's. That guy was very nice (free pen!), but he was out in some very sketchy part of town that I think only exists when you need it to exist. Like the room of necessity in Harry Potter. Only crappy.

Now... I know. I know what you're going to say. Oh, but, see, if you buy a nice car, and take care of it, and don't bother with your Grandma's hand-me-downs, and buy it only nice gas, and pet the dashboard and fold your hands toward the warmness of your heart and chant "Ohm" three times, you'd be fine.

Not to be flippant, but yeah flippin' right.

I refuse to be convinced that a car will not be expensive, or deadly, or require lots of maintenance (translation: time and even more money), or whatever. Try as you might, I won't budge on this. The way I see it, you can own a car, go wherever you like, and spend a lot of time and money on the thing. Or you can not own a car, go almost wherever you like, and spend not so much money. Either way, you will be inconvenienced, so you just choose a preferred method of inconvenience. I prefer to miss out on some things rather than own a big fossil-eating time-stealing polluting death machine.

But that's just me.

(I don't care if you own a car. I just care about me owning a car. You do what you gotta do. I ain't judgin'. Unless you drive a Hummer. In which case, I am.)

Anyway, back to my life. Turns out I have this opportunity to go to Harper's Ferry on Monday for work, just to ride around and... see an actual national park during my internship with the National Park Service. (Though the medians and random block-sized parks in DC technically belong to the Park Service, and therefore technically count as units of the National Park System.)

Basically, I can't go because I don't own a car. There's even a train station there, but there are no trains that run during times that allow any reasonable person to make a day trip from America's capitol. Despite the fact that there is a pretty sweet commuter train service apart from Amtrak that runs several times a day... they never run at the times one would need them to run. I could rent a car, but I'm not 25 yet, so they charge me extra for that. It's just enough to push the price beyond my cheapskate purchasing power.

Now, if I belonged to Zipcar, I could probably swing it. Zipcar is pretty cool. It's not car-rental, it's car-sharing. This means that you become a member, pay some up-front fees, and then you can rent for just a few bucks every hour. Apparently the gas is free, the insurance is already taken care of, you just call and tell them what you want, when you want it. Then you use a magical little Zipcard and the car opens for you, and only you. It's honestly a very snazzy thing, and I hope to Jeebus that it opens up in more cities. It's great for people who feel like owning a car is a big scam don't want the responsibilities that come with car ownership.

But guess what, I'm dumb and I'm not a member. Also, I move soon, so no Zipcar for me.

And no Harper's Ferry. I mean, there are ways I could make this work. If I really really really really really wanted to go, I could bite the bullet and pay $70 to go out there. It's not impossible, it just forces me to consider if I really really really really really want to do something. Which is probably not a terrible thing.

I graduated from college a year ago, and I've been hitching rides on the Student Conservation Association. I'm just about to complete my second internship with them. It's been a great way to see different parts of America, try different jobs in conservation, and meet different people. A little bonus, for me, is that the SCA provides housing and such wherever you go, and they let you know if you're about to apply to an internship that doesn't do well for carless folks.

As I said, I'm about to be turned loose on the world again (eep). By a mixture of fortitude, prayer, and helpful parents, I've managed to avoid car ownership. Part of me wonders how long it will last, and the other part is expounding constantly on the evils of automobiles. I'm led to believe that one of these personas may be perceived as more "mature" than the other. (Guess which one it is!)

The possibilities for my post-internship life are just about endless, and thinking about them all makes my head spin. Some of the possibilities involve me owning a car. I don't like these possibilities very much. I'm looking at it like I'm looking at a marriage proposal: should I really be making a commitment to something I hate so very very much? Or am I already considering divorce as an option for later on down the road? It could work out. It could. I could be a very nice person with a nice job and a nice place and not moving anywhere because of the job I need to pay for the car expenses.

But I'd hate it.

The dump in the Pacific

CNN has an article today about the plastic problem in the Pacific. If you haven't heard about the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, you might want to have a look-see.

Very basically, all the trash out in the Pacific gets swept out to this vortex where the currents collide. Turns out there's a lot of trash. Some scientists estimate that this patch is approximately the size of Texas. Probably, if I were Texas, I'd be getting garbage-patch envy from all this comparison.

But you're not going to go out there and find a huge raft of plastic bottles. You'll see ocean. You'll see the occasional piece of solid trash. The devil is in the details; when scientists scoop up the ocean water, they find tiny pieces of plastic. Everywhere.

Of course, there are other pieces of debris out there, like fishing nets, which tangle up wildlife and cause considerable damage. The plastic is a problem because of the tiny creatures at the bottom of the food chain. They don't exactly have the brainpower to decide that plastic is not good to eat. Even seabirds have been found dead with their bellies full of plastic. Unlike you and me, some species in the world just eat whatever looks good. They don't spend exorbitant amounts of time deciding what to eat that day, or scrutinizing the expiration date on the milk.

This will become a problem, obviously, because everything feeds everything else. Apart from the fact that we are overfishing like crazy, depleting the middle of the food chain, now we're hurting the bottom of the food chain. Um... I know we're proud of being at the top of the food chain and all, but one link maketh not a chain.

On the island in Alaska (oh no, here I go with 'on the island...'), we had a stretch of beach, which came in handy when we loaded and unloaded two months' worth of supplies. Every high tide would leave a different assortment of trash mixed in with the strands of bull kelp. Plastic lids. Soap bottles. Tupperware. It's a wildlife refuge, dangit, not a trash heap!

But I know, when one goes to the beach, or downtown, or to the highway, one just looks past all the trash. Trash is not going anywhere. Trash will live forever. Our trash will outlive us. I just don't think trash should be allowed to do that. I'm already shorter than my younger sister. I don't want to decompose before my trash does.

My approach to the situation is to try to avoid generating trash in the first place. I'm doing pretty well, if I may say so myself.

• I avoid takeout and/or fast food (weird waxy cups, plastic lids, styrofoam/plastic containers, wrappers)
• I avoid buying products packaged in non-recyclable containers (plastic, food wrappers)
• I carry my water bottle everywhere (plastic one-use bottles)
• I buy Tom's of Maine, which makes toothpaste in aluminum tubes (though I may try to create my own paste soon)
• I only use bar soap (generally, packaging can be recycled, and sometimes you can even find locally-made soap. Failing that, Dr. Bronners FTW)
• I don't wash my hair (... I haven't washed my hair in over a month, but I managed to keep it a secret 'till now. I rinse daily or every other day, and to be honest, my hair feels quite healthy.)
• I don't shave (mostly on principle that I have better things to do with my time than be in the bathroom, partially because what the heck is in that shaving cream, anyway?)
• I wear my glasses instead of my contacts (no more saline solution bottles, no more fretting about putting them in and taking them out)
• I use re-usable feminine products
• I buy from the farmer's market, bulk foods from the co-op, bring my own bags, and re-use plastic bags I already have (this saves a TON of trash)
• I don't buy crap I don't really need, and repurpose as much trash as I can
• Of course, I recycle, but this is not something I want to rely on. The true benefits of recycling are widely debated. Certainly, it's better than putting anything in a landfill, but even better than recycling is reducing one's overall waste output.

My current struggle is teeth. Toothpaste, I may begin to make on my own. I've begun flossing again, but I haven't decided what is the most eco-friendly way to go about it. Ideally, I want something that will decompose in a composter, but I also want something that doesn't need a huge amount of energy to produce. If anyone's got any thoughts on this, please hit me up. Also, toothbrushes. They're meant to be disposed of, unfortunately. I've seen toothbrushes with replacement heads, but will they clean my teeth?

I didn't start all of these things at once. I did them one at a time. This is really more of a process than a total lifestyle makeover. Start small. Pick something easy. Later on, pick something else. That's all there is to it. I know that I have gone into areas that other folks frown at (the hair thing, the shaving thing, I know, I know), but the important bit is to decide what is right for you, personally, in your own life. That's all.

Apple photos

A picture's worth a thousand words. Here's some photos to show you some of the stuff I went over in yesterday's post.

Here we have a batch of seeds that are sprouting. You see the white tails poking out of some seeds. They'll keep going as long as they stay moist. I like to wait until they have some growth on 'em before transferring them to soil




How the seedlings spend most of their time. The bag keeps moisture in. Seedlings like moisture. They seem to get enough light through the baggie.


Inside the cup. These were from pink lady apple seeds.


And these are from fuji apple seeds. In the middle, you see a baby seedling. That's what they look like when they first come out of the ground, though they'll probably still have an apple seed shell on top of them.


This guy has root rot. The bottom of the root has become all shriveled and brown. There's still a bit of healthy root, but better to get rid of it so it doesn't infect anyone else.

Baby apple trees

Over the last few months, I've been working very diligently on my experiments in growing plants. Working so diligently, in fact, that I managed to destroy most of them!

The main thing I've learned about plants is that you do more by doing less. In the beginning, I just wanted to be a good plant mommy, and water my plants all the time, and spoon-feed them little drops of sunshine, etcetera. Since then, I've learned that plants are not like babies. Plants are more like teenagers. They just want to do their own thing. If you dote on them, they wither.

(I base this statement on my own experience with being a teenager, which wasn't too long ago; I was a bitch, Mom would agree.)

Mostly, I overwatered. Overwatering killed maybe ten or twenty apple seedlings, my one chamomile shoot, my random garlic cloves, and my one orange seedling. Rest in peace, guys.

Since then, I've decided to stick with sprouting apple seeds, since I've always got a supply of them. The mint is also around, but it's infested with aphids and some other bug that makes a really sticky substance. It's irritating.

I've learned so much. At the beginning, this was my mindset:

• Plants need soil, water, and sunshine.
• If a plant gets all three of those things, it should grow.

Now I know:

• Each plant is a little different.
• Plants generally need soil that drains well, a little water, a lot of sun or fluorescent light, adequate air flow, and an appropriate temperature range.
• Apple seedlings like soil that drains well, very little water, tons and tons of light, cool temperatures, and high humidity for their little leaves.

Now I have something like ten apple seedlings, and only a few of them succumbed to root rot. So I can pat myself on the back a bit.

Here's the method that's finally yielded results, if you're curious:

1. Sprout the seeds. Check the seeds in the apple. If they're already sprouting, put them in a moist paper towel, and put that inside a plastic baggie. (Or, for a non-disposable option, use a washcloth or rag and put it in a tupperware or other sealed container.) Wait one week. If they're not sprouting, dry them for 1 week. Put them in the moist paper towel + baggie apparatus, and put that in the fridge for 3-4 weeks (checking every week). Take it out, and wait one week.
2. You should have at least some seeds with a white tail sticking out. These are your future apple trees. Throw away the seeds that didn't sprout.
3. Prepare a home for your seedlings. I like to convert plastic containers into pots -- plastic cups, yogurt cups, water bottles chopped in half. Punch three or four holes in the bottom, and fill it with potting soil. For best results, you'll want one for each sprouted seed, but I tend to stick them two or three to a pot. Another small tip: I found it's easier to use clear plastic containers and fill them half full of soil, and you'll see why in a second. Water the soil until water flows from the bottom, and let it drain until there's no more water coming out.
4. Plant your seeds. Make a little dent with your finger, put your seed in there with the root pointing down. Cover the root gently with soil. I find I get the best results if I let the seed rest on the top of the soil, or very near the top.
5. Create good growing conditions. This means light, and lots of it, temperatures from 60-75ish, good humidity with adequate air flow, and moist soil. Basically, here's how I do it: cover the top with a plastic baggie, and punch some holes in it. (That's why it's handy to use half-full clear plastic containers; they admit light, and your seedlings won't be crushed by the baggie.) Since it's summer and it's too hot out for these guys, I keep them inside on my shelf all day, and I use a CFL bulb to give them light from about 7 AM - 10 PM. I've got a few at work, and they only get light from 8 AM -5 PM, but they seem to do all right.
6. Let 'em be. They'll shoot right up in a matter of days. I water mine maybe once every week or two. And I water from the bottom, not the top. Just put some water in a shallow dish and set the pot in the water; the soil soaks it right up through the drainage holes. You can still overwater this way, so be conservative. Apple seedlings like it a little on the dry side; a little on the wet side will kill them, easily. Just note that you should really try to alternate watering from the top and the bottom, so that the salt doesn't build up too much in the soil. The only time I intervene is to pull off the woody seed case. Generally they should be able to cast 'em off on their own, but sometimes they do need help.
7. Pull the ones that don't do well. If one gets root rot, you'll know it because it won't grow as fast as the others. When you pull it up, it'll have brown roots that are sort of soggy. This sort of thing is communicable, so you want to get rid of it. If they start to wilt, or if you see any brown around the roots, you want to get rid of it. They progress as such: first, they should pop up off the soil, with the seed shell still on. They cast this off, and the false leaves spread and start photosynthesizing. There'll be a little shoot between the false leaves; these are true leaves, and it's so cool to look at them every day and see how fast they grow. If the leaves look really, really super-green, you want to pull back on the watering. Light green is a good color for the leaves.

The thing you want to remember is that these guys may not bear fruit, necessarily, when they get older. And they also may not bear fruit that resembles the apple they came from. Apples these days are grafted, which I'm not really sure what that means, but you basically do something to the roots so that they grow up really small, and they produce the apple you want them to.

Johnny Appleseed, who I read about on Wikipedia, evidently did not believe in grafting due to religious beliefs. I'm with him on this one, more for ecological reasons than anything else. We really should have trees that grow tasty apples naturally. Actually, we should really have more fruiting trees in the wild, period. Because they're cool. Yeah, I won't see an apple from these guys 'till I'm 30. So? I still think it's cool.

Saving the earth by... throwing money at it?

I was walking out of the Takoma metro station around 7:30 PM a few nights ago. I'd quit aikido early, because I didn't have the energy or the focus to swing a big wooden sword with 30 other people in the same room. I patted myself on the back for having discretion, trying not to feel too lame for needing additional energy and focus at 23 years old, and headed for home.

In a city where it's polite not to meet anyone in the eyes, I still can't break my habit of watching faces. (Not that I want to.) In North Carolina, it was fairly common to greet a stranger in passing, and I miss it. Not in DC. So I should have known better when I looked around for friendly faces, and I found one -- the face of a young woman, maybe my age. I was happy until I noticed that the face was attached to a body that was attached to a clipboard.

Oh, s***. She's canvassing.

I wavered in my path, maybe trying to decide if I should swerve, but the damage was done because we'd made eye contact. "Ma'am, do you feel strongly about environmental laws?"

Oh, well. Environment. And also, she called me "ma'am," which won my favor immediately. Last week, the security guard at work, after studying my ID badge, said "thank you, sir." I went up to my desk, fuming that I hadn't thought to stare him dead in the face and say, "uh, do you even LOOK at this thing?! How many GUYS named EMILY do you know?!"

I try not to get upset, because it happens more than I like, but come on. Just because my boobs aren't popping out of my shirt doesn't mean I'm a man.

Oh, anyway. This canvasser chick. We chatted for awhile, she said she was from the League of Conservation Voters, and did I know that blah blah blah was doing blah blah blah bad thing in congress and blah blah we need some money to fight the bad guys.

I made a good effort to listen, but all I could think of was how broken our government is. I'd read an Ansel Adams quote that day, something to the effect of "it's horrifying that we have to fight our government to save the environment." It's true, because our representatives (and I use that term loosely) are too busy pushing legislature for their big corporate friends to really represent us -- even if they wanted to.

Pushing that thought aside for another day, I stared down at the clipboard she'd pushed into my arms while she was doing her spiel. I was hoping to find written-down information of some sort, because my brain was already tired and it likes when things are visual. No such luck. There was some sort of laminated, generic fact-sheet, behind which were papers with peoples' credit card numbers.

Keep in mind that I had already made up my mind not to give her anything -- I donated to some charities for the homeless earlier this month, so I was off the hook for a little while, at least to myself. She tried her first appeal for money, which is the "monthly contributor" plea. I said, sorry, I can't do that, don't make a whole lot of money right now. (Which I don't. I get a cost-of-living stipend and a commuting stipend, and that's it. I've got savings, but that's for... saving.)

She tried her second appeal: that's okay, you can do a one-time donation. I said, sorry, not today. I need to go read some stuff on your website, do some research first. Her first response was, oh, I know everything that you'll find on the website. The second response was, you can't become a monthly contributor on the website.

What a drag.

I told her I was tired and I couldn't possibly focus enough to concentrate on what she was saying, but that I would read the website. I wished her good luck.

And it felt really weird to walk away from someone working on environmental issues. But that's what I did. Honestly, I'm glad that I did, for a few reasons.

1. There's no guarantee that she won't do something dishonest with my credit card number, or steal my money.
2. There's no guarantee that my donation will support what she says it's supporting.
3. I'm not donating if I don't know the organization well, and I don't know the League well, apart from the name. I need to know what they do; they might do stuff I'm not cool with. For example, I think it's great that Greenpeace works so hard to get out the environmental message, but I don't think I want to support them breaking into Mount Rushmore.
4. Generally, canvassers are very passionate about the issues they work for, but the other part of the incentive is the commission they get for each donation. I can't trust someone who's got a personal financial stake in my donation. Maybe you can.
5. I'm not sure how much I believe we can solve our environmental problems by becoming embroiled in political battles. If I give money, I want it going to tree planting or educating the public.
6. I don't think canvassers are educating the public. People know the environment is going down the tank, and they know that life is brutal on capitol hill. Educating the public, to me, would be more like engaging people in conversations about what they can do in their own lives, and why they should do it. What a canvasser does is begging for money, not public education.

I'm really glad that people feel so moved that they will canvass. It's a really hard job with a high turnover rate. I guess I'd just feel differently if I thought they were actually doing anything for the environment. Obviously, I understand that the political side is important, and there are folks who will donate to those causes -- I'm just not one of them.

Swine flu follow-up: no more antibiotics down on the farm

According to the NY Times (and CNN as well, but I couldn't find the article this morning), the government may be wising up a bit to the CAFO scheme. Representative Louise M. Slaughter introduced a measure that proposes the following:

1. Ban the use of seven antibiotics, used to treat humans, from use on animals;
2. Restrict the use of other antibiotics to mostly therapeutic uses (with some preventative use)

The medical community is all for it, obviously; this would safeguard the effectiveness of antibiotics. However, the folks who mass-produce meat are not gonna stand for it, and the measure is not expected to pass. It's thought that the measure will be added onto the health care reform bill.

Also, we have someone up top lambasting such misuse of antibiotics: the principal deputy commissioner of food and drugs, Dr. Joshua Sharfstein, basically told the House Rules Committee that the casual feeding of antibiotics to livestock should be stopped, and antibiotic use should require a vet's supervision.

It might strike you as odd that anyone would be allowed to use antibiotics for anything without first consulting someone of a medical profession, but there you have it. That's how they do business, these CAFO people.

Meat is not going to become any less healthy. If anything, the price might rise a bit to cover the extra costs of raising animals in such a despicably unhealthy fashion. (By which I mean, to put it bluntly, that it's likely that more animals will die. Which might be a mercy, when you look at how they have to live.)

This is the part where I tell you, again, that limiting your meat consumption will help. Meat production has become so bloated and unsustainable because people demand meat several times a week, or daily, or multiple times a day. You don't have to cut it out, just cut back. If demand lowers, fewer animals will be raised this way. Or, you can eat smaller. Limit the amounts you eat, or limit yourself to poultry (takes considerably less energy to produce). Better yet, buy from your local farmer's market.

The bottom line, for me, is that this is an exceedingly unsustainable process that hurts us where we live. (If you don't believe me, go try to live next to a CAFO.) Old habits die hard, and I'm far from 0% (I'm at ~1 meat serving a week), but if I can keep a couple more of my dollars from factory farms, I'm doing something.

The crash and emotional aftermath

It’s been three days since the fatal metro crash in DC, and you can still feel the impact.

Ordinarily, I commute via metrobus – route 63, between Takoma and the Federal Triangle. It drops me off within a block of my work and it only takes ten to fifteen minutes longer than the metro does. (Not to mention, it costs half of what the metro does at rush hour… which is a substantial savings for a lowly intern.)

But Matt was in town, and for whatever reason, this means that I splurge. We were both in downtown DC on Monday around 4:30, and we decided to go home via metro to buy some time. Mondays are the days where I go down to the Savory Café to host an open mic, and it’s sometimes just nice to have those few extra minutes beforehand.

When we stopped shortly before Fort Totten, it wasn’t anything unusual. Trains stop all the time, usually if there’s a train ahead on the platform. After five or ten minutes, people began to open up to each other. It’s some kind of weird social phenomenon; if the train’s moving, it’s polite not to speak (at all, much less to fellow passengers). If the train has been stopped for more than five minutes, a sort of awkward air settles in, and it becomes acceptable to make some sort of sarcastic remark to your neighbor in order to clear the air. I experienced this when I got stuck in a train underground for twenty minutes, only that time was more fun. It was later at night, and the train was packed like a can of sardines. As soon as they announced the disabled train ahead, everyone began laughing and groaning all at once. One woman with two chocolate-syrup-whipped-cream beverages in clear plastic containers shielded them with her shoulder, smiling, as a passenger made a sarcastic joke about being hungry. Someone said we should sing a song; a man crowded up against a wall asked if it was anyone’s birthday.

The atmosphere was similar on this particular day, only the crowd was the older, rush-hour employees returning home, not the late night rabble-rousers. After awhile, the train conductor made an announcement: there was an electrical failure at Fort Totten. Great, we said. Metro trains jam-packed with people are stuck because of some stupid electrical failure. It’s the middle of the day, what could have possibly caused an electrical failure? Speculation peppered the conversation, until the news spread like fire, radiating outward from cell phones; two trains crashed; something derailed; we’re on breaking news right now; someone died.

It hit Matt right away. It didn’t hit me for another half an hour.

Someone died, he said.

Yeah, I said. I sat there uncomfortably, knowing I should feel something, but… what? People die. A few weeks ago, two people separately committed suicide using the metrorail system in DC. It was sad, sure, and probably terrible for the people on the train, and the train conductor, but… too distant. Too far away. Not important.

After a little while, the conductor came picking his way through the crowd. The train reversed and went to Rhode Island Avenue station, where everyone was dumped. Everyone. Hundreds and thousands of people, as the trains came rolling in, poured through that station. People were crammed up against the exit booths. And these were no tourists, no confused travelers who couldn’t figure out which way the little card goes in. These were rush-hour veterans with Smartrip cards. “Let us out for free,” shouted a man behind us. “Let us out for free!”

A short while later, the gates opened, probably not to honor one man’s request, but because of the density of scared and confused people. Details of the incident were scarce. The announcements at the metro station cited a “police incident.” We had no idea whether the collision was northbound, southbound, head-on… many people believed that they were right behind the train that was hit (which was later proven wrong; the collision was on the southbound track, and everyone getting off at that station was going north).

That was when the chaos began. Why are mobs so dangerous? It’s like everyone gets stupid all at once. Busses and police began rolling onto the scene. Crowds began to pour off the sidewalk in a flood; metro workers in neon vests tried to herd people. “Back up on the curb! Back up on the curb! The busses can’t get through!” Balding men in suits could be seen barking at the metro workers.

The police drove through, blasting instruction through their megaphones, and that was authority enough for most people. They crammed back up on the sidewalk, except for one man (again, balding with a suit) who approached the driver’s side window aggressively. That’s all I saw; the masses concealed the rest. There were people everywhere. Just everywhere. I saw a young woman being loaded onto a stretcher, though the reason was not immediately discernable. Metrobus drivers jumping into busses, still in their street clothes. There were quite a few people around signing, too. One young woman waved goodbye to a woman she’d been signing with, then got on her phone and explained that she was safe, and that she had helped this deaf woman call her family to let them know that she was safe. The woman on the phone brought up a good point (though I was eavesdropping, in a sense): there was no way a deaf person would have known what was going on. All the announcements were auditory.

At 6:35 (about two hours after we got on the train), I got a call from my dad. And Matt got a call from his mom. He missed the call, and when he tried to return the call, he got a message saying that the network was busy. (No, really?) I’d never really considered needing good coverage for a situation like that, where a network might be really overloaded all at once.

That’s when I realized how big this was. Entire cell phone networks were hung up. People around Philadelphia were hearing about it. This was breaking news. This was bad. Real bad.

That’s when it really, finally, hit me. People were dead and it could have been us. I arrived at that point when the panic in the body finally catches up with your brain, and you start imagining all the ways that everything could have gone wrong, far, far more personally.

After mentally shaking off enough of these thoughts to function, we began to wonder: how do we get home from here? The answers varied for a long time (see the part where I talk about the mass confusion). Eventually, the metro folk decided that the shuttle busses would stop at Fort Totten and Takoma, and that the people needing to go to Silver Spring could transfer at Takoma. I don’t think this was a crowd-pleaser; I’d guess, just based on personal observation, that most people going up the red line on a weekday are trying to go to Silver Spring. It was, however, a solution, and so for maybe 45 minutes, we tried to catch a bus.

Docility was not our friend. We waited patiently on the curb for a long time, just like the nice policemen told us to, as bus after bus loaded. We found that we had not advanced, and that the sea of faces had shifted – without us. Eventually, we saw a shuttle approaching, and I took Matt’s hand with resolution. We’re getting on this bus. I don’t remember if I said it out loud. If so, I hope I said it quietly.

It was a little like body surfing, and a little like a mosh pit. At first, we were more or less swept out to the shuttle, as the crowd bulged out to meet it. Then there was a pause. And everyone began shouting, where is this bus going? Where is this bus going? Where is this bus going? And they kept it up with such fervor that no one could hear the response from the driver. Eventually, I caught wind of something like “Fort Totten and Takoma.” Out of sheer irritation toward the mob, and maybe too much experience being an obnoxious orientation leader, I leaned my body backwards, pointed my face to the sky, and yelled “FORT TOTTEN AND TAKOMA!!!”

People around me still had to ask me what I said. I think Matt addressed them, more politely than I did.

Anyway, shortly after my bellowing session, people began to feel like it was acceptable to get on the bus. That’s when the mosh pit part kicked in. I was being pushed from behind, pretty much exactly in a fashion you’d expect from a mosh pit. Luckily, I’ve been in mosh pits before, so I knew the rules. If you’re pushed, you push back, but you try to keep everyone standing straight up. I had to push back on the crowd to avoid crushing the wheelie suitcase in front of me. (Worst place ever to have a wheelie suitcase. I know it’s heavy, maybe, but this is kind of an emergency and we’re kind of in a mosh pit.)

Matt and I barely got on the bus, and everything went smoothly after that. We arrived home at 8 – a full hour after the open mic at Savory was supposed to start, and 3.5 hours after we began trying to get home. Theoretically, we could have still gone for about 45 minutes of the open mic, but… food.

When I got to the office on Tuesday, I found that I was obsessed by the crash. I couldn’t stop checking CNN and WMATA’s website. It was a compulsion. How many people died? How many injured? And most of all, what the crap actually happened?

So far: a southbound train was making a stop at Fort Totten. The second train, also southbound, should have stopped automatically, but didn’t. The second train vaulted up over the stopped train. Nine people died on the striking train, including the driver, and over 70 people were injured. So far, all they know is that the emergency brake was probably deployed, and an anomaly was found in one of the circuits that tells the train what to do when it’s in automatic mode. The striking train was also an older model, for which the National Transportation Safety Board recommended replacement in 2006. Cost was an object for the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority, so it didn’t happen. Now they’re asking the government for some money. Those trains cost about $3 milion a pop, and they have to replace over 300 of them.

Basically, all these details coming out make it seem very much like this accident could have happened anywhere, at any time. It seems like the whole system is full of glitches and outdated equipment. Whether or not this is true is irrelevant to the thousands of metro patrons (or former patrons). On the bus this morning, I overheard a casual conversation to this effect: “So, you gotten on the metro yet?” The responder laughed. “Nah. Maybe next week.”

I feel the same. I found myself riding last night, by accident. I wanted to go to aikido, sure, but I forgot that it means riding the metro home. So I went down to the station, only to find I couldn’t get in. SEE METRO STATION MANAGER, said the entry gates as I swiped my Smartrip card. He was standing right there, so I saw him. He checked it on the computer, swiped it in the exit lane, and then handed it back to me. Then I realized what had happened: the card knows when it gets on the metro and when it gets off. I didn’t swipe out at Rhode Island on Monday. Even such a slight nudge sent me spinning off into perturbed memories.

I usually get on the last car in the train, because it’s quicker when you get off at Takoma. Once I found myself faced with that last car’s door, looming wide, I found that I really didn’t want to get on. I ran up the train and got in the next car. (Aside from that, service hadn't yet resumed at Takoma -- they finally opened it up today, three days after the crash.)

Honestly, I just sat there, trying not to cry. I was on the verge of tears the whole way home, which was a little strange because I hadn’t thought the events had affected me so badly. But I couldn’t ride without jumping at every little sound, without wondering if the train would derail on a heightened track, without wondering if there would be a sudden, sickening jolt. Without wondering if I would be called upon to save someone’s life, or if I would call out for someone to save me.

I know these are outrageous thoughts, and that the system has been very safe for decades (the last fatal crash was in the early 80’s). I want to be a good environmentalist and say that my faith is in the public transportation system, which is still safer than going by car, but I can’t help it. People died on Monday, practically right in my backyard, because of the public transportation system. I’m not going to get over it for awhile.

Vinegar to the rescue!

Vinegar has come in handy the last couple days. Vinegar, of all things. I'm starting to become quite fond of it.

This entry, coincidentally, is also brought to you by the letter "A."

Thing Number 1: Ants.

We have a minor ant problem in the house. I hypothesize that it's because they're thirsty; they're not coming in huge droves, just a few at a time. I soaked part of a paper towel in vinegar and rubbed it along some likely cracks, and they stayed away for a good couple of days.

Just this morning, I had a few ants sitting on my windowsill, so I decided to test it out again. I took a folded over piece of toilet paper, got it good and vinegary, and rubbed it in a line in front of the ants. They approached the line, stopped, and then turned around and started going the other way.

Probably a more effective way of doing this would be to fill a small spray bottle with some combination of water and vinegar (you can find various combinations on the web). Try it out. Let me know what goes down.

Thing Number 2: Acne.

Acne? Acne. I'm not kidding. I take a folded up piece of TP, dab some vinegar on it, and rub it on my face. It's great for existing acne or blemishes; it burns a little, but a really bad blemish that I've already gone and picked at will clear up in a couple of days. My skin always feels really nice after I use it, too.

If you want to try this out, do a couple of things. First, probably dilute it (I may be crazy using full-strength vinegar on my face). Second, test a small area of your skin before you use it on your face. Some people are allergic to vinegar.


The great bit about these uses is the non-toxic nature of it: most ant "remedies" involve poison or toxins of some sort. Furthermore, what an outrageously simple way to deal with acne! No messing around, trying to figure out which ingredients in which products are criminal and which are beneficial. Some people even drink vinegar in water as part of an acne regimen. Can you say that about your current facial cleansers?

Listen up, ladies: waste-free cycles.

Of course, when you say things like that, it makes people think, "eeeeeeeeww." Or something along those lines.

However, it's possible, and it has saved me a ton of hassle. I no longer worry about running out of supplies, or any funky smells, or feeling dirty once a month, or getting TSS, or anything like that. I always have what I need, and it makes me feel better about my cycle. Oh, and I save a crapton of money.

I began to use reusable products on the basis that I should reduce my monthly landfill package, but at this point, the benefits to my personal life have become so valuable that the zero-waste bit is kind of an added bonus.

A year or two ago, I was using tampons and pads. The standard. Then I began to wonder about reducing my overall waste, and I discovered the menstrual cup through some googling. At first, yes, the notion of a little cup sitting inside me all day was a little weird. Then I realized that I was currently shoving a wad of cotton up there all day. However, they can be reused for ten years (possibly longer, but that's the recommended length), which means a huge savings on the landfill and on my wallet. I bought my divacup at a local co-op for $30, and I was... sort of kind of hooked.

It wasn't easy at first! It takes some getting used to, but you'll find that's true of any change you make in your personal life. So, yes, I was frustrated at first, but it was still better than the alternative. For one, I could wear it overnight. And because it collects, and doesn't absorb, there was nothing to make me feel dirty or even conscious of my period; I couldn't even feel it after it was properly situated. Basically, unless I get cramps, a period day is just like any other day. I don't pack anything extra in my purse, I don't have secret caches of tampons. If I know when my period's coming, I may even deploy the cup in advance.

Furthermore... my cramps declined in intensity after I began using the divacup. This may be a coincidence, but I tend to believe otherwise.

I should mention, as an aside, that there are other types of menstrual cups, and the divacup is just one brand. However, I have a friend who tried the keeper for a little while; she reported that the rubber used was not as soft as the silicone of the diva, and she's had much better success after switching.

However, I wasn't done. I was still using pantiliners, because I'm the sort of woman who needs to wear one every day. Pads suck. Not only are they disposable, but they always manage to stick to things they're not supposed to stick to, like your skin.

I had toyed with the idea of cloth pads, but I wasn't entirely on the boat. How does one clean them? Don't they stain? Don't they smell? Is there some sophisticated laundering method involved?

I was booted into using them when I went out to an island in Alaska for two months. No way was I carting out two months' supply of disposable pads... and then carting them back out with me once I was done using them.

So... I bought some from the same co-op I'd bought my divacup at, but they were kind of big and bulky. These were designed for periods; I just wanted pantiliners, something simple. Luckily, my mother is a genius on the sewing machine. She whipped me up a batch of eight, made from scraps of flannel she had in her studio.

If you want to make your own, just follow these guidelines: use cotton or flannel; sewing machine is fine, hand-stitched is fine; shape is irrelevant; sightliness is irrelevant; you're pinning it to your underwear for God's sake. If you're worried that your significant other won't like it, I wouldn't worry. Just look at the photo! They are totally fun. They make adhesive pads look like a pile of poop. Mom made mine with snaps, but again, not important; safety pins work great! I have taken to pinning mine onto my underwear so that they don't slip during the day.

As for laundering, it turned out to be a non-issue. At this point, I just let them dry 'till laundry day, or I do a small load inbetween laundry days. It all comes out, and what doesn't come out, doesn't matter. Again, the whole pinning it to your underwear thing.

Another attractive bit is the savings. Not only have I completely halted the flow of feminine products from the shelf to the landfill, but I've saved a ton of money. A $30 cup and scraps of fabric... let's say they cost about $0.50 each, which means about $7 or $8 for the pantiliners. So $38. For ten years, at least. My estimates are a little rusty because I haven't bought any tampons in years, but I'm gonna estimate that a box of 20 will cost about $5. That'll get you through maybe two periods, depending. Plus about another $5 for some pads to wear overnight, that'll last you a few periods. (If you've made it this far, do a little experiment for me -- try to accurately estimate how much you spend per cycle.)

Let's say you go through 8 boxes of tampons a year, nevermind the pads. If they cost $5 each, the reusables still pay for themselves in less than a year. However, the diva can be used for up to ten years, and cloth pads can basically be used until you somehow destroy them. Even if you don't care about the landfill issue, that's got to get your attention.

Ice is not nice

A small companion post to go with the soda entry.

When one thinks of simplifying, they really think about maybe shipping half their belongings off to Goodwill. Dig deeper! How else can you limit your energy consumption?

For some reason, I got to thinking about ice. Normally, ice is a hassle anyway, because they always give you a ton of it in restaurants. Once you have sipped your beverage to a certain point, you reach the zone of ice hazards. I mean that danger zone where if you tip the glass beyond a certain point of equilibrium, to get to that last little bit of beverage, you get ice crashing all over your face.

And no, the solution is NOT a straw. If you're paying attention, we're trying to limit energy consumption. Straws are ridiculous little pieces of plastic that go in the trash after one use. Not cool.

If you manage to savor your beverage instead of guzzling it, you run into another ice problem. Ice is pretty much a conditional state of being. The condition being that it needs cold around it to exist. Ergo, watery beverage, which is NOT what you ordered, thankyouverymuch.

If you like a chilled beverage, a better option is to refrigerate. Still using energy, but have you ever considered how much energy it takes to create conditions cold enough to freeze water? Don't answer that question if you live somewhere cold.

Personally, a room-temp beverage is fine with me, but to each his own.

The part that really bothers me, I guess, is when you go to an establishment where the ice is self-served. Invariably, if you visit these establishments at a high-traffic time, you will find a mountain of ice melting in the trays of the soda machines. It's sort of maddening when you begin to see ice as an investment of energy. Melting ice is wasted energy.

I'm aware that there are certainly bigger fish to fry as far as energy conservation, but every bit helps. Save five dollars every week, at the end of the month you'll have $20. In a year, you'll have $260. All you have to do is start doing it!

Let's think about soda.

Soda is one of those junk foods that somehow misses the "junk" qualification because it's a liquid. I don't know why this mentality persists, but it does. We all know that cheese curls and ice cream are full of sugar and salt and high fructose corn syrup and fat; if not to be totally avoided, we know they should be on our "limit" list. When it comes to soda (or energy drinks or what have you), we’re not so sure. Either that, or we are sure, and we just look the other way.

I had begun to phase soda from my life years ago. I was still drinking soda, but I started to drink cranberry juice instead. Fruit juice is sweet and flavorful, possibly even more than soda, but it also counts as a fruit serving, which was part of the appeal.

I was also aware that fruit juices could potentially count as water, depending on who you asked; there was no way soda would ever qualify. When I was younger, I hated water. It tasted bad to me. So I can sympathize with the people who feel the need to buy brightly colored bottles of stuff touting itself as some variety of “water.”

Finally, I went cold turkey. There was no soda on East Amatuli, one of the seven Barren Islands in Alaska where I worked with the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service. Two months on an island 60 miles out of port means that you pack in all your food, and pack out all your trash. Soda is not worth the hassle. It doesn’t hydrate or nourish you, and it’s heavy.

We had plenty of things to drink: milk (in boxes), juice from concentrate, Gatorade in powdered form. And of course, water.

Three things I’ve come to understand about soda.

1. It has no nutritional value. It cannot nourish. And anything one has to digest that doesn’t nourish is a strain on the digestive system. This doesn’t mean one shouldn’t drink it, necessarily, but it requires one to understand: soda is more like candy than anything else in the food kingdom. Would you eat a candy bar every day? (Yes, I include diet soda. Would you believe that a zero-calorie candy bar is any healthier for you than a normal one?)
2. It ruins the taste buds. The constant sweetness of soda on the tongue can potentially spoil the intricate flavors of other foods and beverages (in my humble opinion.) I’d be willing to guess that this is why I used to hate the taste of water: not because the water tasted bad, but perhaps because it could never compare to the taste of soda.
3. It’s full of strange ingredients. Who knows the effects of these things on the body? Have any conclusive studies been done? You can find a plethora of stories about how chronic illnesses mysteriously disappear or lessen when soda consumption is stopped…
   

I haven’t been entirely soda-abstinent. If a friend offers me a rum and coke, I’m going to drink it. To be honest, though, I’ve stopped craving it. Chocolate is another story, but soda no longer appeals. The thing that does appeal is water. And it tastes fine, now.

But why oh why am I blogging about soda in a blog devoted to ecological consciousness?

It’s pretty simple. Actually, it’s all about simplicity. Processed foods are always going to be more harmful to the environment. Always. And I can’t think of anything more processed than soda, except for perhaps some strains of cheese that are enveloped, individually sliced, in shrink-wrap packaging. It takes a good deal more energy to produce soda, and all the wonderful chemicals contained therein, than it does to make some fruit juice, or better yet, run some water from the faucet.

When you hear an environmentalist going on about “simplify, simplify, simplify,” this is what is meant. Simpler is always going to be better for the environment. Fewer processed foods. Local business. Less kitsch on your shelf. There’s no need to simplify to the point of nothing, but take a good look around. Life got pretty complicated for Americans in the last century or so. ‘Bout time to consider if they’re complications worth having.

Energy Tips & Tricks: Laundry

We all have to clean our clothes eventually. If you do not agree, stop reading now.

I was on an island for two months last summer, in Alaska, collecting data on seabird reproduction for the Fish & Wildlife Service. And of course, there was no washing machine, dishwasher, tap water, jogging path, etc. And we STILL washed our clothes. Though I don't think I'll be hearing much agreement from my mom after I showed up at the Philadelphia airport, direct from Alaska, without a shower. (Which was not my fault. But I digress.)


(Look -- you can see the laundry hanging in our camp)


My views on low-energy laundry do not include getting rid of the washing machine. Having had the experience of washing my clothes in a bucket with stream water, I will say that a washing machine probably does a better job than you can do -- and it can do it using less water than you. But there is something sort of neat about doing laundry by hand. In fact, I think everyone should put themselves in a non-machine situation at some point in their lives, for at least a month. Otherwise, you may never understand how many luxuries you currently, unknowingly, enjoy.

So, the washing machine saves you energy, but you need to supply the rest.

First of all, be a little dirty. I subscribe to the belief that clothing is not dirty until it has either a stain or a scent. I obviously don't advocate re-wearing your underwear, and probably not too often with the socks, but other than that: it's not dirty just because you wore it once.

Another no-brainer is cold-water wash. It takes energy to heat anything. Your cup of tea, the shower water, the seat warmers in your car. So if you use cold water, you save that energy, plus the color in your clothes will probably last longer.

A word on laundry detergent. There are some detergents that are specially formulated to work with cold-water washes; on the island, we used Woolite. My boss was quite explicit on this point, and when a man who regularly spends 1/6 of his year in the wilderness tells you how to do laundry (or how to do anything for that matter), you listen to him, unless you're touched in the head.

However, I'd advise seeking out environmentally friendly soaps. Your local co-op should have a selection to choose from; your local mega store probably doesn't give a crap. Biodegradable soaps are better for all your friendly woodland creatures, and what's good for them is good for you. Or you can make your own, like they did on Going Nuts. Obviously this will take some time and some initial investment in ingredients, but it ends up cheaper in the long run. I personally am going to invest the extra dollar or two in the convenience of having someone else make it for me.

If you're worried about which detergent will best lift those stains or oust that BO, I'd advise you to do a little bit of research -- there are a good number of reviews on the 'net. If it's just the smell thing, though, throw some baking soda in the wash. Baking soda is a great deodorizer. I sprinkled some on my bath towel when it started smelling grody, and now it smells like angels.

Well, no, I haven't ever smelled an angel, but... it smells better than before, okay??

To top it all off, hang dry. Everything. I understand if you're in a rush, or if you're doing your laundry at the laundromat, but lacking a clothesline and pins is no excuse. So far in life, I have had exactly one room at my disposal, and I have always found space to hang things or lay things out to dry overnight. (Like... HANGERS!) If you need something dry for the next day, swipe it with an iron before bed. It's pretty easy.

Just to review... re-wear, cold water wash, eco-friendly soap, and hang dry. The modifications are so slight, but you'll save energy. Another baby step toward saving the world.

Johnny Appleseed I am not.

The good news is that the mint is kickin' butt and taking names.

The bad news is that I managed to obliterate my baby apple trees.

First of all, the mothership is doing great.

There's been a lot of little mint coming in down at the base, as you can see.

And here's two of the mint shoots I decided to try to "clone." You just cut off a sprig and stick it in some water for a few weeks. The first one is Joon and the other is Benny (just for the sake of differentiating between them...)

They're obviously in descending order by date. The amazing bit, to me, is that the first five photos of each set were taken daily, consecutively. The sets as a whole span from April 26-May 11. Just look at how fast those dang roots grew in! I think they were in the water for a week or two before the roots started.

These guys are actually gifts for my sister, Bets, and my beau, Matt. Now that they're established in some soil, I think they're ready to come up north with me on Memorial Day weekend. (The mint plants, that is.)

I also started a third shoot, which I've called Skippy, because he's a little bit behind.

It seems like the bigger the shoot is, the quicker the roots grow. And vice versa.

Ergo, Skippy. It's taken him about three or four weeks to get to this point.

I'm not really sure what's up with the brown roots. They grew in white, and then I changed the water and they turned brown. I don't think they've grown anymore, either. Anyway, more white roots started growing in, so it's all gravy.

So, my poor apples. I've got photos of them, too:

The first one is the very first shoot to come out of the ground. I think it took about a week, which is insane to me. That was April 29; the next one, going down, is from May 4. Four of them sprouted! The next one, May 8, you can see that the outer shell of the seeds fell off most of them, but by May 11, they were completely dead. Actually, I think one of them may live. I stuck 'em in some water; it worked for the mint, after all.

Anyway, apple shoots are evidently extremely susceptible to root rot, which comes of overwatering the poor dears. And I guarantee you I overwatered them. I was watering them every day. They don't need to be watered every day. In fact, when I get another chance, I'm only going to water them once a week. If that. The moisture really stays down in the soil, which I didn't realize; I thought the top of the soil had to be damp.

D'oh.

Anyway, so I was fairly depressed about that for a little while, but I'm going to keep trying. I'm trying different methods of sprouting them... here's the count:

• 21 in the fridge in a wet paper towel in a baggie, after drying a week
• ~15 in a yogurt container full of moist potting soil, after drying a week
• 6 in water, after drying a few days
• 16 currently drying
• ~20 in a wet paper towel in a baggie in my desk drawer at work, after no drying

Dang, that's actually a lot of seeds...

I guess I should mention that the seeds that sprouted came from the yogurt container. The ones in the fridge were started at the same time, from the same batch of dried seeds, but they haven't done very much yet. Everything else was started within the last week.

Anywho, I've learned a lot about growing things. Don't overwater, because the moisture's down in the soil. And patience is good to have, too... though that's not my strong suit when I get so excited about the things poppin' up out of the soil.

Energy Tips & Tricks: Alarm Clocks

Even with all this talk about "green energy," there's not much being said about conserved energy. Problem is, it's not fashionable. It's not fashionable to conserve energy. The buzz is all about being "green." This warm buzz (like the one in the background, emanating from the TV you're not watching) soothes the listener into thinking that homo sapiens can live at a massive population level and continue to consume the same amount of energy, because, hey, it's green.

But it's not the end of the world, okay? (Though, trust me, it's easy to start thinking that way, and I'm guilty of that.) There's definitely a speed bump coming up, and we just need to slow down a few hundred miles per hour. Change is coming. It would be most helpful to preempt it by starting the change on our own.

And it doesn't have to be huge. Start by thinking about how much energy you consume, and figure out where you can cut a corner or two.

Here's my example. I was thinking about how much energy cell phones use. Cell phones are handy little buggers. I can call folks, text short messages, keep to-do lists, write down things on a calendar, and it works as an alarm clock. Most of my dorm-mates in college used their cell phones as alarm clocks.

But it seemed... wrong. Cell phones aren't that energy-efficient. (More on that later.) And leaving the durn thing on all night just so I could get up at 8 AM felt like I was cheating Ma Nature. ("Yo, Ma, I'm just gonna stay up all night so I can't wake up on my own, and I'm gonna use up your energy to get my butt outta bed in the morning. We cool?")

Even an electric clock wouldn't solve the dilemma; in fact, it would be even worse. They might be more efficient than phones, but then you depend upon TWO electrical devices, and the whole consumption bit, etcetera. Surely, I thought, there must be a better way.

It's called a keywound alarm clock. You've probably seen them in the form of clip-art or caricatures of outdated things: that round face clock with the bells on top. Yeah, they still make those things. Mine was given to me as a gift from Matt, because I was complaining to him about it, and I guess he wanted me to shut my darn pie-hole, so there. So, yeah, it's from China. If I get lead poisoning, we all know where to point our fingers.

You just wind up the thing every night before you go to sleep, and it runs for however long it's designed to run fully-wound; mine runs 36 hours. So if I forget to wind it (and I do), it runs until I get back from work. I feel pretty smug, being able to flip off the surge protector at night. I even turn the phone off so no one can disturb my beauty rest.

If you decide to get a keywound, see if you can get one with a loud/soft option. Mine doesn't have one, so it's pretty loud, but I guess I wanted something that would wake me up. Also, as far as setting the alarm -- it displays incriments of hours and half-hours, so setting for anything inbetween is sort of a guessing game, but honestly it's not a huge deal. Again, as long as it wakes me up, do I really care?

So, to summarize:

Keywound alarm clock

Cons:

• Kind of loud (but there are clocks with a "soft" option)
  
• Energy used shipping it halfway around the globe, lead poisoning (get yours from USA if possible... or better yet, a thrift store!)
  
• Constant ticking may annoy some people/make them think you have a bomb in your suitcase
  

Pros: 

• No batteries, no plug, no electricity used to run it (post-production)
  
• Assuming it's of good quality, it'll run for years. Maybe it can even be fixed on the cheap
  
• Wakes me up!
  
• Constant ticking may be soothing to some people (it's not that loud, really, honestly)
  
• Lets me feel smug in the privacy of my own bedroom
  

In my opinion, totally worth it.

Cleaning on the cheap, without the poison or disposables

I'm trying to keep disposable things out of my life.  I guess you could technically recycle most plastic bottles these days, but it's ultimately better to avoid buying them in the first place.  Recycling is more of a "downcycling" process, creating a material that isn't as strong as the original.  (If you want to know the particulars, go pick up William McDonough's Cradle to Cradle.)

My inspiration, in case you were wondering, is Sustainable Dave, who made a new year's resolution in 2008 to reduce his material waste, and keep what he couldn't reduce.  The average American is estimated to produce something like 4.5 pounds of trash a day.  I don't even want to multiply that by 365.  Anyway, he's one of my eco-heroes, and if he could do it, so can I.

I've fought this battle on a few different fronts so far, but lately I've been in a skirmish with household cleaners.  First of all, if you want to clean anything these days, you need a special kind of cleaner for everything -- window cleaner, polish for the wood table, stain remover for the carpet and then for the clothes, different odor treatments for the bathroom, living room, and kitchen.  You end up having something like 15 or 20 spray bottles under the kitchen sink, and most of what's inside them is toxic.  

You got poison under your sink, and you already knew it, too!  But the thing they don't want you to know is that there are non-toxic and insanely cheap ways of making your own household cleaners.  I found out through rabid internet research, and an obsession with baking soda.  

The interest in baking soda began with the notion that it can be used to prevent a certain kind of infection that I'm susceptible to (but more on that later).

Then I started washing my hair with it.

Then I used it on a drain clog.

I think I officially became an eco-freak once I started washing my hair with it.  But I like it a lot better than the shampoo.  The thing that weirds me out about shampoo is that it dries my hair out so much that I need a conditioner for it to look healthy.  Now... if I buy something to clean my hair, which requires another product to fix the damage of the first product, that just makes me a little suspicious.  Why can't the darn thing just clean my hair right the first time?  Jeez.

With the baking soda, I just make a little paste and scrub it in, let it set while I wash the rest of me, and then rinse it out.  At first I was worried that it was leaving grease behind, but I just upped the dose the next time and it works fine.  

I've heard other shampoo substitutes, from corn flour (brushed into and out of dry hair) to brushing with a cheesecloth to... plain water.  Yep, plain water!  I think it takes some time for your hair to adjust, if you go that route.  Oh, and let's not forget the vinegar conditioning rinse, which is evidently fabulous for your hair and scalp.  (It reportedly stops smelling like vinegar once it dries... I may try that one myself and tell you what happens.)

The baking soda drain thing... sort of worked.  We have a slow drain in the shower.  I have read a whole medley of instructions on how to do this, but what I ended up doing was 2 tablespoons of baking soda, followed by 3/4 cup of white vinegar... the first time, I followed immediately with boiling water, the second time, I let it sit for 5-10 minutes before dousing with the boiling water.  The drain moves slightly faster now... I'm thinking it's all in the proportions.  The part that loosens the clog is the fizzy reaction between the acidic vinegar and the alkaline baking soda.  I've read a few sets of instructions with equal parts baking soda and vinegar, so I'll try that, and maybe 30 minutes of sitting time.

Anyway, there are loads of other things you can do with baking soda and vinegar.  Check out this list at tree hugging family.  Or this list at ecocycle.  And if you're really hardcore, and want to go beyond washing your hair... check out making your own toothpaste at eHow.com.  Arm & Hammer also has some tips, including washing your skin with baking soda (the grainy texture makes it a natural exfoliant).  

Swine flu: don't panic yet

Swine flu is all over the news today, so if you haven't heard of it, you probably have a life that doesn't involve informed citizenship, television, or the flu itself. (I personally found out through boredom, to be entirely honest.)

Who's being affected? According to CNN, 1 person in Spain, 2 people in Scotland, 6 Canadians, 26 Mexicans, and 40 Americans are infected. But wait, there's more! Turns out in Mexico, there have been 149 deaths -- not confirmed, but thought to be related to the flu -- and almost 2,000 people have been hospitalized. Alarmingly, it's taking the highest toll on folks in their 20's and 30's, the sort of young stock that you don't expect to be waylaid by disease. CNN's chief medical correspondent, Sanjay Gupta, says that it's the robust immune system of these youngsters that overreacts and does the damage.

Well, you think to yourself, this is a surprise. CNN, sweetheart, tell me when and where the heck this all started, and why is it happening?

CNN is eerily silent on the topic. It calls Mexico "the apparent epicenter of the swine flu outbreak" in its interview with Gupta, but that's as far as it goes. In another article, they claim that "researchers do not yet know" what's behind the virus, suffice to say that it came from pigs. But don't worry, says CNN. It's just "a new variation of an H1N1 virus," and "outbreaks [of normal H1N1] in pigs occur year-round."

CNN, why is all this flu business so troubling? The answer: "Scientists are concerned whenever a new virus is able to jump from an animal to a person -- and then spread from person to person. When the flu spreads person to person, it can continue to mutate, making it harder to treat or fight off."

Luckily, we don't really need waste time and money researching the cause; we know, we've known for years that this could happen. Genetic mutations sometimes happen naturally, sure, but think about it. Avian flu. SARS. Etcetera. All's I'm sayin' is that we brought it on ourselves in the form of a viral and bacterial breeding ground called, affectionately, a CAFO.

The acronym stands for "Concentrated Animal Feeding Operation," and if you've never heard of that, then you've lived a life absent of PETA and other knowledge about where food comes from. Don't worry, you're not in the minority. If people knew where their meat was coming from, the CAFO-mongers would feel the pinch, and I doubt they'd abide that -- not when they have the funds to keep you blissfully ignorant.

Not that I'm accusing anyone of anything. Totally hypothetical.

Anywho. So, if you've ever run into someone from PETA, they probably tried to cram a bunch of information about CAFOs into you as you politely nodded while thinking about how this was going to make you late to that 3 o'clock. And I can't really blame either of you. I have to agree that it's inhumane -- in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, Steven Kingsolver says something like "imagine a thousand chickens in your bathroom." I would reply to Mr. Kingsolver, imagine the smell of a thousand chickens in your bathroom. Also, you're not doing the chickens any favors by imagining that it smells any better to them.

Life sucks for these animals, but because it sucks for them, it sucks for you, too. First of all, the meat is not as healthy for you. Animals like chickens and cows (and probably pigs, though I haven't done my research on them) are fed mostly corn, which they're not designed to eat in such huge quantities. It affects the flavor, but it also means that the meat has more fat in it. But, Mom, whines the voice of the CAFO-mongers, it makes them big and fat and it does it real fast!

So fast, in fact, that if you didn't take the cows to slaughter, they'd die of being too fat. But I digress.

Why am I alleging that the swine flu came from a CAFO? Because, my dear, don't you think that having thousands of animals crammed in together would cause some deficiencies in the animals' health? What do you think those CAFO people do about that? They just allow such-and-such percent of their investment to die off? Goodness gracious, no. Antibiotics, of course! Antibiotics in the food! It can't fail.

Only, it does. You know why they always tell you to take all your antibiotics when you're sick? If you didn't, you might allow bacteria to figure out how to get around the medicine. Now, imagine thousands of people, living in very tight quarters with very compromised immune systems, living in their own poop, giving lots and lots of bacteria lots and lots of chances to figure out ways around antibiotics. Whaddaya got? Crazy super-disease that don't take "no" for an answer.

As a point of clarification, viruses don't respond to antibiotics. So the antibiotic mutation explanation doesn't apply to them, but it's probably not good policy to create a festering cesspool for their breeding pleasure.

Okay. I'm done being scary, I promise. (At least for now.) Don't have a cow, though; turns out you can kill the swine flu at 160 degrees Fahrenheit or higher. It's really going to be okay, this time. If avian flu didn't do it, SARS didn't do it, West Nile didn't do it, I think we'll be okay as a species. But what about next time? What about the time when a mutant virus figures out a way around high temperatures? What then?

For starters, please, I am begging you, stop investing in strange meats. Even just limiting your meat consumption would help. If you want to go all the way, it doesn't mean you have to avoid eating anything that casts a shadow. Just buy from the farmer's market -- they do meat! It'll be more expensive, yeah, but that's what a good, healthy, eco-friendly side of meat is worth. It's worth knowing where your food comes from. And it's worth remembering that people are dying, right now, because of patronage to CAFOs -- even humble personal investments like yours.

Just ask yourself this: can you really live with the guilt of contributing to a global pandemic? 'Cause I can't.

For more information, please consider the following links:


Great article about CAFOs and swine flu by David Kirby at the Huffington Post.

A timeline of events from Biosurveillance:

Paula Crossfield at Civileats and KristenM at Foodrenegade talk about the link between the swine flu outbreak and Smithfield CAFO, something you won't find on CNN. At least not yet.

Mint Condition

This being my first post to the blog, I suppose I should explain, with poise and extravagance, the purpose in my blogging. But... nah. You're smart. You'll figure it out.

I seem to have a vague memory of a vegetable garden in the backyard, but I'm going to go ahead and say I've never grown anything in my life. I mean, a plant. I've got hair and all that. But no plant. I'd been thinking about trying my luck with a mint plant, for a number of reasons:

• I'm itchin' to raise a nice garden of my own, someday... not anytime soon, as I'm renting, and the house I'm currently living at has no yard. It occurs to me that if I want to have a garden, I need to have at least some knowledge and some experience with growing plants. (Either that, or significant amounts of dough. However, I'm convinced that the joy in growing your own food is directly proportional to how dirty you get.)
• I'm a prolific mint tea drinker. There's one ingredient in mint tea. Guess what it is.
• Mint is easy. And by "easy," I mean "nearly impossible to destroy." We had a good chunk of mint growing in the front yard of a rental house in Greensboro, which was mistakenly mown down by two homeless guys who were returning a favor. The stuff grew back in a matter of weeks, and I don't mean there were little shoots of it; I mean, it grew back to full height. So, a good choice for a novice plant-mommy.

As fate would have it, on the first Sunday of spring this year (March 22), Blue Ridge Botanicals came to the Takoma farmer's market with plenty of herbs in tow. I actually had to make a decision between a couple types of mint, which surprised me, to be honest. I went with the Kentucky Colonel Spearmint. Some research via google later revealed that there is a wide variety of mint plants and flavors, including chocolate and pineapple. If I ever figure out where to get some pineapple mint, you can bet I'll be growing it by the bucketfull.

That is, assuming that I'm more or less successful. It's been with me for about a month, and it's definitely grown. I should've been taking pictures of it all along; better late than never, right?

My mom told me that if you cut off the top leaves, the plant will sprout more "branches" (pretty sure they're not called branches, but I am a novice), giving it a bushier look. I've done this on about half the plant, but it looks as though the plant has decided to go bushy on its own.

So far, it has only registered dislike on one occasion. As I rushed to catch the bus to work back in March, I decided to set the plant outside for the day. It was only as I reached the bus stop that I realized how cold it was outside. Yeah, the poor thing was not very happy about that; it wilted, but I set it inside and it perked up overnight. Not kidding. I went to bed, and in the morning it was all, "bring on the dang sunshine!" I was floored.

The plant hasn't grown as much as I've thought it should. I'm trying to decide what that means: should I fertilize it, or water it less, or water it more, or try to fight the rampant aphid population, or combat those random flies that seem to congregate around it... or is it just the heightened expectations of an overachieving plant mommy? I haven't fertilized it yet, because I'm a cheapskate. There's no composter here, and I don't feel like investing in one. We don't have a yard, either, not to mention that composters seem to be fairly expensive (at least for a poor intern like me). I suppose the better option would be to go invest in some fertilizer. Le sigh. When I have my own place, you better believe I will compost everything.

Also, aphids. Good Lawd. There was a mint plant at my folks' place that succumbed to an aphid infestation. So I was prepared for those. But... the cheapskate thing. What to do?

To be honest, I just pick them off with my fingernails about once a week. Yeah, I kill them. I feel bad about it, well, I sort of do... I feel obliged to protect my little baby, I did buy it and give it a home and all. At this point, the plant is doing so well that the aphids don't seem to be doing much harm, so I may... MAY... be a bit lax about it.

But probably not.

It is sort of fun, anyway. I like the notion that I am spending time with my plant, and that we are breathing out good air for each other. And the picking. I am a notorious picker, so the aphid removal is therapeutic for me.

The current project is propogating the plant. I want to start another plant, and I want to give one to Matt. Using information I got from this PDF on growing mint, I decided to cut off a few shoots and see what happens. I stuck one in a jar of water, and I stuck one in a yogurt pot full of soil, watered it liberally, and sealed it all up in a plastic bag. This was on Wednesday evening.

24 hours later, the mint in the water was doing just fine, but the shoot in the pot looked miserable. Knowing that wilting doesn't necessarily mean death, I decided at first that the thing was suffocating. I took the bag off and let it sit overnight, but it looked the same when I woke up on Friday morning. Screw it, said I, and plopped the thing down in some water before I went to work. When I came home, it was acting as if nothing had happened.

Also, as of this morning (Saturday, only 2.5 days later), I have visual evidence of a root!

I suppose I should also mention that I have been trying to grow an apple tree. Matt and I collectively saved 44 apple seeds, and I let them dry for a week or so. Just as an experiment, I put 22 of them in a moist paper towel in a baggie in the fridge, and I put 22 of them a half-inch deep in the yogurt pot with the mint plant. (Dumb idea, but I am trying to economize.) I guess another dumb thing I did was I mixed in about 5 seeds from a granny smith apple; the rest are pink lady. Not that it really matters, except granny smiths apparently need a warmer climate. Oh well, I'll let natural selection do its thang.

I doubt very much that the seeds in the pot will sprout. Turns out apple seeds need to be cold before they sprout (i.e. winter). Well, we'll see. Timetables vary from source to source; Wikihow says they'll sprout after a week of refrigeration, but these guys say that it takes three months.

I guess I should also mention that "wild" apple trees, such as the ones I'm attempting to grow, don't neccessarily grow fruit, and even then, they don't necessarily grow tasty fruit. Also, they take five or ten years to even begin to grow fruit. Turns out, interestingly, that commercial apple trees have to have their roots grafted? Or something? In order to keep them stunted. And then, they're pollinated specially to produce any given apple, like the pink lady or fuji or what have you. I'm not really expecting anything. But there's no harm in it; who ever heard of a problem with too many trees?