WHAT is it about June that has the feel of a hurricane about it? That final mad rush to the finish line at the school sports day? The local scandal over the mother who cheated and stuck her thumb on the potato that was acting the egg in the egg n spoon race. Honestly.
In work, people are whirling around madly to get cleared up before the summer lull. And did anyone mention “election”.
In all the madness, you can forget about the planet.
Ha, gotcha. I never used to think about the planet much. Then, I married someone who does and have soaked up a few of his thoughtful ways.
We now have three reusable large bags in our house – one for paper and plastic, one for the food waste and another for the black bin – the landfill site – which is only about a third full every fortnight, honestly.
Mrs Smug? No, there’s a long way to go before we catch up on that woman who has packed a year’s full of waste into one little jar.
But in the interests of following in her footsteps and leaving the planet less of a rubbish heap for future generations, I am toying with the Marine Conservation June challenge.
The idea is you give up one-use plastic for a day, a week or a month.
Simple? No, not really. You have to think a little. But once you make it a habit, they say it becomes easier.
I did a little recce on my supermarket shop last week. You can get loose apples and potatoes and carrots and onions without putting them in plastic. You can even sneak a little paper mushroom bag to use instead.
Meat and fish are more difficult. It’s plastic fantastic in that realm at my supermarket. But that’s where local comes in – just go to the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker and hold out your own ready-to-be filled container. How hard is that?
Next visit the bathroom. Ah, there’s the rub. Well, if you are rubbing, make it a solid re-usable deodorant, minus all the plastic packaging. Soap? You can buy the kind that doesn’t come in plastic wrapping and you can even get tooth tabs for your teeth. True devotees could opt for a bamboo toothbrush.
But toilet roll? Another rub. Where do you get it without a ton of plastic wrapping around it? This remains a dilemma.
In the kitchen, you can buy rice and cereal by the scoop from large wooden containers at some shops... but not many. A week without krispies? How will our boy survive?
The other parties in this house are keen to point out that they, personally, have not signed up to this challenge, so it may be a one-woman adventure – isolating really, especially if I can’t get my hands on shampoo and shower gel that doesn’t come in a plastic bottle.
I could end up as the friend on the problem pages of the Jackie comic – “Should I tell my best friend about her BO?”
But it matters. The nurdles done for me.
When you read about the hundreds of millions of them – microsize pellets of plastic – that are polluting our oceans – and are getting into the marine food chain – then finding loo roll that doesn’t come wrapped in a big swathe of plastic is not such a big deal.
Eating porridge that came out of a scoop bin rather than out of a big plastic throwaway bag is not such a big deal.
Proffering a container into which the fishmonger can plonk your fish should not be such a deal either. It is just a bit embarrassing in an “Easy on that plastic bag” kind of a way.
I’m no hero. But when you have hit the halfway point in life and you’re freewheeling downhill on the other side, the planet seems such a sweet place to live.
My little pink rose nods “hi” at the front door in the morning. The sun sneaks a golden finger through the bedroom window at 6am, I turn over... and life is sweet.
The robin brings his chick to the windowsill, his breast puffed with paternal pride. A small bird, flat on his back, wings spread, suns himself on our shed roof.
In the mornings, in the car (yes, I know, pollution), we drive over past the Rise sculpture – favourite for roosting birds – and the sun lights up the hill.
Blondie is on the radio belting out: “Hey buccaneer, can you help me get my truck in gear?”
What’s not to love?
