I love my clothes dryer.
I don't want to wash clothes by hand, either, so I love my washing machine too.
My electric company caused this machine love by suggesting I dry my clothes on an outside line to save electricity and money.
Really? Let's find electricity that is cheaper and safer for the environment.
I remember, though, the fragrance of fresh sheets dried outside. One summer, between school semesters, Neil and I drove back from Oklahoma to work for our old bosses in McMinnville, OR. There, we rented a little house with an outside clothesline. I washed our clothes that summer in a wringer washing machine and hung them on a line. A year later, I opened a box where I had stored a few bed sheets. They still held the fragrance of outside fresh air.
I wondered what I would be willing to return to. Having clothing freeze on the line and taken into the house where they would stand on their own like paper dolls? Please no. (Eventually, those paper doll clothes would puddle on the floor.)
How about running outside to save the dried clothing from a sudden rainstorm?
Nada.
I see there are advantages of thinking in decades and wondering if I have something to contribute to our present times. And what could we do to slow down climate change or reverse it?
(Is all the present unrest distracting us from thinking about our home—our planet—that it is heating up, and what could we do to slow the process to give us time to perhaps halt it. This distraction threatens our sanity, security, and way of living. Is it taking away our love, ability to cooperate, negotiate, have rational thought, and treat people kindly, even those who think differently from us?)
Once, we burned our garbage in a large steel drum. We lived on a farm, though, so that was possible, but almost everything we burned was paper. We didn't even carry home packages in plastic or cardboard, and there were no straws or plastic cups by the gross. If we bought a Sub at our local Hand Out--they were great, by the way--it came wrapped in paper.
Our water came from a well, so there is no need to recycle plastic water bottles.
Occasionally, we threw cans into the incinerator. The fire burnt off the labels and sterilized them, and we swept up the rusted cans after the fire was out and, about once a year, carried them to the dump. We had virtually no plastic.
Our sandwiches were wrapped in waxed paper—that worked fine.
Our meat, purchased from the butcher, was wrapped in brown waxed paper and tied up with twine. That worked, too. And I remember we rented a freezer in town, and the meat was wrapped in waxed paper. Do they have freezers like swimming pool lockers now?
I could go back to that.
I guess, instead of placing our produce in a plastic bag, we carried it home and put it in the "Freshener." (My husband calls it "the Rotter.”) But then, we had abundant fruit and fresh produce on a farm. Fruit was sold or canned. (Please, no canning. Oh, but I long for my mother's pickled crabapples.) When mom had peaches canned at a cannery, that saved her and my hands).
Eggs were kept in" water glass." (A sodium silicate/water solution.). Preserved eggs will keep up to 18 months. The trouble with that egg preservation is the eggs need to be clean and unwashed. (Eggs have a natural cuticle or "bloom" that seals the shell from bacterial invasion. It is easily washed off.)
See, I do like modern conveniences. However, what could we do to help the planet?
Our Christmas packages were beautifully wrapped using licked stickers (No cellophane tape until later.) Mom tied our gifts up gloriously in pretty ribbon. Toys were hidden until Christmas Eve, then placed under the tree. That worked. It was fun.
I could go back to that.
I could go back to a horse and carriage if my family lived close by, but they live about 29 miles away, which would take a day on horseback or carriage. It takes about 33 minutes by car.
Many families live across the country from each other, so a visit requires flying or a long trip by vehicle.
Once, I rode my horse Boots from our farm to our friend's house across the town of The Dalles for the adventure. It was ten or fifteen miles, and I spent the night with her, so it was a two-day trip. I had taken a less-traveled route across town and encountered little traffic. (I used a saddle, that McMillian saddle my dad thought was so great, but it was more pain than pleasure, but it made me look somewhat presentable.) My second mother-type friend took the picture in front of her house with her little dog and me on Boots. She sent it to me years later. It is the only picture I can find of Boots and me.
The other day, I saw an entire trainload of lumber wrapped in plastic. Is that necessary? As a kid, we regularly saw great flotillas of logs chained in their own corral of logs floating or tug-boated down the Columbia River. Logs are kept wet until they are cut into timber. Keeping them wet reduces bugs, keeps the logs from "checking" (splitting), reduces fungi, and makes them easier to cut. I suppose the plastic wrap comes after they have been kiln-dried. I wonder about the value of that.
Hay is sometimes wrapped up in plastic. That hay needs to be kept dry, or it will turn to silage. (Never serve those big bales to your horse; they sometimes spoil in the center. Bovines can handle it; horses can't.)
Great pallets of merchandise are wrapped in plastic, and the packaging of foods has become extreme for the ease of preserving, storing, and shelving them.
We tried eliminating plastic bags for carry-outs from the grocery store. Then we debated which harmed the environment less: creating plastic or cutting down trees. Do you have an answer to that?
We do recycle. We save glass. We are trying.
I saw a story about a woman who tried to shop plastic-free for a week. It was a challenge, and she said her meals were boring. Yogurt?—in plastic. Cheese?—in plastic. Meat—in plastic. Even the pasta box had a little plastic window. And why oh why oh do Kleenex boxes have a plastic pull-through space in their cardboard box? Our recycle pickup warns against mixing plastic with paper.
This could give city planners a challenge as many people live in apartments. Some apartment complexes have incorporated parks and playgrounds into their plan, some even with gardening spaces, so we don't all have to live on a farm.
Time for us to give our creativity a workout.
Wouldn't it be fun to do some designing there?
I read once that in France (The Land of Milk), they had pastures and milk cows next to villages, and their cows were healthy, lived much longer, and produced milk longer than American cows.
Seeing healthy cows grazing in beautiful green pastures is a treasure.
P. S.
Don't let the present political/social climate make you hard. Much is accomplished with a glad heart.