Stuff and Nonsense

It's been a funny couple of weeks. Grandchildren-minding was replaced with cat-and-goldfish (separately!)-minding while Owen, Jess and the children took off on a skiing holiday, Gareth got some sort of fluey cold and chest infection and we’re back to the drawing board with buying a house. I've been keeping myself busy with the zero-plastics thing, home economics and a fair bit of dog walking. Here’s my new update on the plastics thing:

Well, I've found a couple of things on-line that are helpful and I posted the links on FB. Others who are going zero-plastic suggest taking your own wrapping and containers when shopping. Some have found refill stations for naturally derived cleaning stuffs like Ecover, and are buying ethically produced cosmetics packaged in paper, cardboard or jars. I'm interested to try the soap-bar shampoo that these pioneers are using, but it does sound a bit weird. They also advocate using bamboo toothbrushes and have even found cotton buds that aren't plastic. Inevitably these things are pretty expensive compared with the bog-standard stuff you buy in the high street so it's fortunate that I’m not a big user of cosmetics. There are signs of some small local initiatives setting up to sell food without plastic and a refill station would be great! This week I prepped and froze a load of veggies and I'm still putting my little food processor to work on making hummus but I don't relish the thought of making all of my own cleaning products and toiletries like some tree-huggers do (I just had to check that predictive text didn't screw that word up for me!). While I am up for the challenge of living more lightly on this planet, I still want a life while I'm here, and I don't want that life to be permanently in the kitchen!

Changing the subject, aren't programmes like Masterchef and Bake Off a phenomenon? We aren't big TV watchers but now we're in the caravan we do seem to catch these during stupor time. The number of times we've eaten a worse-than-mediocre meal while watching Master Chef, I wouldn't like to count. I haven't learnt a single thing from these programmes and they only serve to highlight the fact that while I have chosen to be plasticly challenged I am culinarily challenged by dint of total lack of talent! I'd like to blame the ineptitude on my limited kitchen facilities, but that would be a sorry excuse for the lack lustre fare I've been dishing up lately. I ruined a beautiful and expensive goat cheese that I'd bought from an independent deli, wrapped, as I'd requested in paper instead of plastic film. I used it in a frittata and destroyed its flavour completely! I don't think I'm in danger of anyone putting me forward for Masterchef, unless it's as a joking contestant.

Stream of consciousness stuff makes me now think about cake. In my youth, my working mother would have me and my sisters help with the weekend Bake-In. For us it was more of a Bake-and-Off-Out exercise as we resentfully assisted in the production of pies, tarts, scones and fruit cake to last through the week. Romantic liaisons and meeting friends had to wait until mother’s larder was satisfactorily stocked. The produce was always sweet. Our parents each had a sweet tooth. Maybe it was something to do with the absence of sugar through the war years and the rationing that was still in existence when I was a baby, but there was always pudding after a meal and always cake for a snack. Dad loved his golden syrup - no wonder he became diabetic. None of that weekend baking would be worthy of featuring on Bake Off as my mother wasn't much of a cook and her sous chefs were in too much of a hurry to finish their shift to be very creative either; except, of course, when we wanted to impress a boyfriend. In most cases, though, our creativity wasn't matched by skill and new boyfriends had to politely chomp though some inedible offerings. Showing my age there, aren't I? How many young women now seek to impress a possible future husband by cooking for him (I deliberately kept that as a heterosexual reference because back then I knew nothing of same sex romances).

It's Tuesday today though I keep thinking it's Sunday and I'm not sure why I mention that. Maybe it's to do with my stream of consciousness taking me back to those weekends of my young years and picking up now on the way that time drifts. It's so quiet here at the caravan park. The dogs are curled up showing no sign of wanting to chase rabbits for the moment and all I can hear is the shooshing of the sea. The world’s problems feel far away and Time seems almost irrelevant; stopped for a bit. There is such freedom in being retired from the world of work. However there is danger too. Without purpose, and without some sort of structure to the week, time can catch you out. We have to continue making efforts to leave the world a better place than we found it. The hours are ours to use meaningfully.

Plasticly challenged

Here's an update on how my zero-plastic challenge is going. I'll admit - it's hard, and expensive! So…. for one thing I make my own hummus. It isn't a five minute job, but Gareth can demolish a pot of it in five minutes whereas the plastic-potted shop-bought variety seems to last a week. I take it as a compliment, I suppose, that he likes my hummus 😜, but the time given to preparation and clearing up is inversely related to the time taken to eat it. Ho, hum; soldier on.

My first shopping trip involved foraging in Swansea market. It is reputedly the biggest and best in Wales. It's a vibrant, busy indoor market with a really good variety of shops and stands. I looked around for food stands that didn't have food wrapped in plastic. Bakeries are using paper bags, though some of their goods are pre-wrapped in cellophane or plastic. Cheeses and butter all seem to be wrapped in plastic film, and at the fishmongers, while fish is first wrapped in greaseproof paper, it is then handed over in plastic bags. At the greengrocers, though, I could buy my fruit and veg loose. I explained that I was on a challenge not to buy plastic and the stall holder was very interested and helpful. She even removed the cavalo nero from its plastic bag and put it into my shopping bag loose with the rest of my purchases. Admittedly there was still a plastic bag involved, but at least she was trying! Raspberries came in a cardboard punnet, so I bought some of those (Gareth inevitably pointed out later that there may well be some air miles linked to those raspberries!)

Dragging my booty behind me in my new shopping trolley, (I had previously found an albeit plastic wheeled purple one in Lidl that I think is probably really intended as a travel bag rather than a shopping trolley, and it didn't behave very well as it meandered behind me through the shopping precinct), I next hit Tesco. I bought tins and paper packets and managed to tick off a few more of the essentials on my shopping list. Cumin, however, as were all of the store-cupboard herbs, wasn't available other than in a plastic pot or a jar with a plastic lid. Feeling that I had so far met the challenge but really needing that cumin I next headed for Exotica. Now before you run away with any thoughts about what sort of store that might be, it's a small supermarket specialising in ‘multi-ethnic’ produce. It's a wondrous experience browsing the shelves and trying to imagine what some of the foods are. And yes, they had lots of cumin and big bags of herbs and spices …… all plastic bagged. But, I needed that cumin and I caved in. My punishment for failing so soon was for the starter motor on my car to give up the ghost when I stalled, in the rainiest rain, outside a local school, on a road crossing as kids were coming out and being picked up by cars and buses. No one was sympathetic. I was tooted at, sworn at and gesticulated at until eventually someone kindly pushed my car to one side and I could call the breakdown people. Ignominiously I was later loaded up (the car, that is) onto a low loader and delivered to the now familiar lay-by opposite Owen and Jess’s.

One great success that I can report is the discovery (via Owen and Jess) of a supplier of glass-bottled milk! Now that really is terrific! For years I retained my milkman in order to support his local business and avoid supermarket plastic bottled milk, and was dismayed when he started delivering milk in plastic. He was apparently unable to get glass-  bottled milk anymore. But now we are again getting our milk in returnable bottles. Result!

We have also found (Owen and Jess are on the ball with this one, too) a local farm shop that is becoming increasingly popular and is developing its business to include a butchery and specialising in local produce. They sell wax-wrapped cheeses, bottled milk and fruit juice and along with the fruit, veg and other stuff they have some lovely home baked goods on offer. Unfortunately there is a lot of plastic wrapping but when we talked to the lady running the shop about the plastics thing, she was very interested and may now be persuaded to look for alternatives.

I am much encouraged by the interest and support I am finding from the retailers I talk to about my challenge. They do tend to be the independent retailers though. Holland and Barrett, you’d think, should be helping to lead the way in plastic avoidance and recycling. Maybe their Ethics is somewhere in the South of England (ref earlier blog). Shopping at H and B for cod liver oil capsules (ok, that's an avoidance challenge for another time - give me a chance!) I couldn't buy them other than in a plastic pot. I will have to find a re-use opportunity for yet another plastic item. However, they do sell nuts and dried fruit loose, in a pick and mix arrangement where you scoop into a paper bag. I enthusiastically filled my bag, eschewing our favourite plastic bagged nuts at Lidl and nearly fainted when the price was evident to me. Gareth had something to say about that, as you can imagine.

Meat. Now therein lies a dilemma. We don't eat a lot of meat. We don't eat beef or pork at all, but chicken and poultry is a bit of a staple for us and we do occasionally eat lamb (venison very occasionally). Buy meat from a butcher and it can be expensive. Also you have to take their word for where it comes from. Buy it from a supermarket, though, and you can to some extent check its provenance. It’s cheaper but……. it comes in a plastic tray. Apparently, plastic that holds its shape can be recycled; but is it actually being recycled? China used to take it from us, I understand, but now they don't and we don't seem to be much geared up in this country to recycle it ourselves. I have re-used these trays (well…..I re-used one of them anyway) by cutting off one end and upholstering it to make it into a little dolls’ house sofa. The dolls’ house is a project-in-waiting and YES, I did thoroughly disinfect the plastic tray first, I promise! Maybe there’s a little cottage industry in that. I could make mini sofas for dolls houses and sell them on Etsy! Hmmmmm. I have also, on and off, been turning the plastic bags we do have into plarn. If you haven't heard of plarn it’s a yarn you make from strips of plastic bags and you can weave it, crochet with it and make all sorts of things…… like plastic shopping bags! I'm thinking of giving everyone a plarned shopping bag for Christmas 😆

Gareth’s sticking point in this shopping challenge is his cottage cheese. There’s no way that I can get it other than in a plastic pot, with a foil AND plastic lid, so I've had to give in on that one. Wine, thank goodness, can be bought with screw tops but some wines are plastic corked and you don't know that until you take the foil off. Fortunately I haven't yet had to restock on cosmetics and toiletries. I think that's going to be the biggest challenge of all. I've got my work cut out to meet this challenge, but if, bit by bit, the message is strengthened that we need to reduce, re-use and recycle, I can feel I've done my bit. Now, I need to convince myself (and Gareth) that this is economically sustainable.

Space, the final frontier

Space.

No, that isn't our next adventure. The Hymer may be a solid piece of engineering but it's a terrestrial machine and I'm not ready for a life on Mars just yet (sorry Bowie). We are, however, now enjoying the relative space of our caravan. Dug out from the snow, pipes unfrozen, the caravan is a welcome break from our mobile kennel. I can enjoy a king-size bed and a large shower, an oven in which we've already cooked ourselves a roast dinner, and I'm not falling over the dogs every time I take a step.

I don't need to be a physicist to understand Einstein’s theory of the relativity of space-time. Relative to Bay View, the caravan is a tiny space, but relative to the Hymer it's a big space. The months since we sold the house has flown and feels like just yesterday, but the weeks we've been waiting for things to happen on our house purchase feels an age! 

We aren't, however, exactly jumping over the moon (another cosmic reference, ahem…) about the prospect of what's required to get a house ship-shape for renting out. We've been seriously wondering about the property-owning thing and whether there’s a better way to live than being owned by a pile of bricks and mortar. Even without debt, property demands constant maintenance if it's to retain its value; in most places anyway. Homes, it seems, are big money sponges.

Anyway, in the meantime, while we think about our next road trip, I am setting myself a challenge. I want to see if I can get through the next few weeks without buying any more plastic. I will not buy any dips, hummus or coleslaw in plastic pots - I will make my own. I will shop in the market instead of the supermarket, and do my best to find shops that sell food loose instead of wrapped. Gareth cynically pointed out that it could cost more in travel, but if it's leg work, it'll be good for me. Oh! I just realised……. I'll have to get myself a shopping trolley; the sort all old ladies seem to have. Aaaarrggghhhh!!! Ok, so I have to swallow my pride and get one. It just has to be non-plastic.