Freegan

I grew up in an environment that valued what is now referred to as “green living.” My parents weren’t tree huggers, but immigrants who had grown up on a very small island.

In the summer, my father would only run the air conditioning on the most brutally hot and humid of days. Half of the backyard was devoted to growing an assortment of fruit and vegetables that included tomatoes, lettuce, squash, cucumbers, peppermint, strawberries, Asian pears, and grapes. We did not eat out. Ever. McDonald’s was a rare and exotic treat.

Leftovers were fed to our German Shepherd or used as compost for the garden.

Every bag we brought home was reused to collect trash. We turned off lights and electrical appliances when we weren’t using them. If the shower ran for more than 10 minutes, my dad would bang on the door and yell at us to turn off the water. My mom spent endless hours cutting patterns and sewing clothes at night. We planted trees, bushes and flowers all over our yard.

In the winter, trees were chopped down for firewood. Instead of running the furnace, we’d light a fire in the wood stove which was miraculously sufficient to overheat the entire 1900 square foot house.

Books were borrowed not bought. Money was saved not spent.

And though I never really felt like I went without, I went bananas when I entered college. Finally I could crank the air conditioning as low and as long as I wanted. To study, I’d turn on every light in the room. The radio, television and hairdryer would be used simultaneously, each drowning the other out. And if I had time, I could stand beneath the shower for an hour if I wanted to.

Fast forward 15 years and you’d think I never learned my father’s lessons of “save today for tomorrow.” The bad habits I picked up in college are still with me today. Bad habits I wasn’t conscious of until my mother stayed with me for one week this past June.

My bare kitchen cabinets and empty refrigerator made her shudder. “What will we eat?” she’d ask. And I’d drag her down the block to Cosi or to one of Dupont’s fine eateries. “Where do you you keep these bags?” she’d ask, holding out three or four rumpled CVS plastic bags. I’d point to a trashcan wrapped with a super duty Glad bag.  And when she reached out to turn off the thermostat on our way out, I nearly had a stroke. “Are you crazy? You can’t turn that off. It’s June. In DC. We’ll suffocate when we get back.”

She just shook her head and frowned.

I think of all this now because I just read about Raina Kelly’s Freegan experiment. I wonder how well I’d do if I tried to live carbon neutral?

Filed under: Eureka!, inspiration point, thicker than water

On the road again

I didn’t sleep well. I knew I wanted to leave the house at 4:00 a.m. and my mind waited at the edge of dreams. When the cellphone alarm went off at 3:45, I felt as though I’d just climbed into bed.

I dressed quickly and tiptoed down the carpeted stairs. I shoved the balled up nightclothes into a duffle bag and looked over at my mom as she flipped over on the couch.

“Are you sure you want to leave this early?” she asked, her voice full of sleep.

“I want to beat traffic. I don’t want to be driving all day like last time,” I said and ducked into the dark bathroom to brush my teeth.

I heard someone on the stairs, heavy and slow steps. My dad. Inexplicably I felt my throat tighten and said a silent prayer that I would not start crying.

I thought ahead to the route I’d take and planned when I’d stop to fill the gas tank and grab a tall coffee.  Anything to  avoid thoughts of my leaving them all here.

I hugged my dad. Thanked him for the presents he’d given me. Promised to drive slow.

My mom followed me outside. She stood quietly as I maneuvered the last two bags into the trunk. The stars winked from the night sky. I’d forgotten how many there are.  I noticed Orion and Cassiopeia.

Finally, I took a shaky breath and gave her a big hug. She shoved $30 into my pocket.

“For gas or for food or in case of an emergency,”  she said. I felt bad because I knew she needed the money more than I did. But I also knew there was no arguing with her.

“I love you mom.”

“Drive safe. Call me at 9 and let me know where you are,” she said.

She watched from the driveway as I got into the driver’s seat and gave a small nod when I pulled on the seat belt. The headlights shone on her, bundled in a white quilted coat and my brother’s ratty sneakers. I waved as I pulled away, and from the rearview mirror watched her finally turn towards the house after I pulled out of their main street.

I’m still not sure why I felt so sad when I left this morning. I haven’t felt a teary farewell in years, but today I cried til I sped onto the interstate. And then something else set in and I braced myself for the ride home.

Filed under: between the lines, thicker than water

Expectations

Dread filled my heart as I packed my bags and prepared for the drive north. I couldn’t help thinking I’d be better off staying in DC. I resented the feelings of obligation and guilt that served as my motivation.

And had I listened to my selfish heart I would have missed out on one of the best weeks of the year. Sure I spent too much money and didn’t get a chance to visit with everyone, but I had a blast.

My niece is amazing. She is 18 months old and the most adorable little girl on Earth.  My grandmother is 82 and in perfect health.  I don’t show her enough love or appreciation.

And then there was the quality time I managed to spend with my dad and mom and with my brothers.

There were no fights this year, no arguments, no yelling or banging or complaining. All my worry and dread was for nothing.

Filed under: eye opener, thicker than water