Green Living

The big carbon paw print of cats

My neighbor and I share custody of Randy, a fat gray and white cat. The arrangement works well, but both of us have issues with litter: what to do with it? I steer clear of clay-based litter, which is not biodegradable. (My vision of Hell is eternity in a landfill of used cat litter.) Its extraction requires energy-intense and destructive strip mining. Clay dust can irritate respiratory conditions, and litters that absorb (”clump”) pose a risk if your pet inadvertently digests it.

So I use pine litter: It biodegrades quickly and it’s a byproduct of wood manufacturing, so its environmental footprint isn’t as big. Plus it’s advertised as flushable.

Ah, but here’s the rub: Cat feces may carry toxoplasmosis parasites. Not only is composting unthinkable, but it’s a really bad idea to dump it outside (especially near water sources or areas that humans or other pets may wander) or flush it. Wastewater treatment processes may not kill the parasites. With more news about pharmaceuticals contaminating our water systems, this risk of litter contaminants is a concern, too. (Ironically, one of the solutions recently posed for getting rid of medicines effectively is to pour them into used cat litter.)

I have yet to discover a viable option for litter disposal other than wrapping it up and putting it in the trash.

Present-tense: the result of stressing about holiday consumerism

It’s not easy to be an anti-consumer during the holidays. The deluge of catalogs flooding my mailbox, TV shows bullet-holed with commercials, and my granddaughters drawing back in horror every time I vow not to buy presents this year are rapidly wearing me down. Squeezed between disappointing family and friends and incessant pressure to spend, I feel like one big guilt sandwich.

Fortunately, some savvy friends have offered creative ideas for giving without generating more waste. By bestowing experiential gifts, the receivers are left with happy memories rather than a pile of wrapping paper. Here are some of my favorites:

1. A membership to a fitness club
2. A day at the museum—or nature center—for a child
3. A certificate to a favorite restaurant
4. Concert or movie tickets
5. A massage or spa treatment
6. Lessons: There’s something for everyone, from yoga classes to cooking lessons to pottery making.
7. A share in a consumer supported agriculture (csa) program, providing a set number of weeks of produce from nearby growers. A great way to promote the “buy local” movement. (www.localharvest.org)
8. A llama. Or duck. Or water buffalo. Donate to Heifer International in your recipient’s name for a gift that transforms a mere animal into economic opportunity for a family in need. (www.heifer.org)

Meditations on the straw

Like a lot of other people I see at the supermarket, I’m pretty good at remembering my own reusable bags when I shop. And at restaurants, I reject the polystyrene to-go containers. (Styrofoam is a number-6 plastic—not easy to find a recycler who’ll take it.) I’ll insist on wrapping my leftovers in aluminum foil, which I can recycle. Or—to the embarrassment of my dining companions—I bring my own container.

But one outside-the-home trash-generating phenomenon still trips me up: the straw. A double-whammy of waste: First there’s the narrow plastic tube and, secondly, the paper it’s wrapped in. Order a soda, juice, or water—and before you can say “bottom’s up,” your drink is served, often with paper already removed and straw sunk deep in your beverage.

I’m not sure why straws are standard in restaurants from haute bistros to fast food joints. And I’m not sure why people need them. Can’t be a matter of hygiene: Drinking through a straw isn’t going to prevent us from vacuuming down bacteria transferred from glass to fluid. When did we become reliant on drinking aids to consume beverages? Aren’t our mouths perfectly capable of latching onto the edge of a glass and downing the liquid?

I vow to start demanding my drinks without a straw. With waitstaff so accustomed to special-order requests from “double-shot, extra foam” latte to “lemon-slice, no-ice” diet cola, how hard could it be to fill my ”no-straw” iced-tea order?

[Edited 1/5/09 to correct formatting]

Don’t toss your old computers. Those motherboards, megabytes and other components are laced with hazardous substances including lead and mercury, which can leech into soil and water systems. Other electronic devices—TVs, VCRs, CD players—also pose an environmental threat when abandoned to spend eternity in a landfill. (more…)

The no-sweat way to turn kitchen waste into black gold

My friend Bill is a composter extraordinaire. He has no less than four steaming heaps of decomposing kitchen scraps working at any given time, generating enough fertile output to produce a cornucopia of vegetables throughout the growing season.

Me, I’d always been totally intimidated by the thought of overseeing something that had to “cook.” I mean, Bill’s a chemist: He understands the complex alchemy for building a pile of waste that can heat itself up to 140 degrees or more. (more…)