What went well? Even better if…? #SaturdaySwitch feedback

Image result for to do list clip art

“What went well, even better if” is a bloody brilliant feedback tool, in my opinion. We used it in the marvellous Specialist Services Division at the Royal Devon and Exeter Hospital, where I spent the happiest two years of my career to date. It’s really useful to focus on positives already achieved, and identify further opportunities for change and improvement – and helps steer pessimists like me away from catastrophising if things haven’t gone exactly to plan.

So since I don’t have a new Saturday Switch for today, as we haven’t run out of anything else lately, I thought I’d just do a review of switches made so far, in case anyone is dying for an update.

Switching to reusable washing up scourers instead of disposable plastic ones was the first switch I blogged about. This has been super easy, I love the ones we are using. Our brilliant cat-sitter mentioned how great they are last week (she’s brilliant because, among many other brilliant things, she washes up the Fluff’s bowls properly every day) and I know a few friends have invested in some too. Even better if they hadn’t been packaged in plastic – I have finally got round to tweeting EuroScrubby about this today, so will keep you posted on any response. Also even better if they were any good on fine glass e.g. champagne glasses. However, we use these so rarely, it’s not a big deal. And I have half a pack of plastic ones left which we may as well use up, so I will save them up for this and they will last a long time.

Part 2 of #SaturdaySwitch was about ditching multi-pack yoghurts to reduce plastic waste and save dosh. What went well is that I really like the Yeo Valley strawberry yoghurt that comes in big tubs. Even better if the small one did too… he’s gone on yoghurt strike since being forced to give up Little Yeos, so I need to experiment with some other flavours. I am also intending to check out the feasibility of making my own yoghurt with a second hand yoghurt maker, if eBay can come up with one for me.

And last week I posted about switching to a cardboard box of laundry powder instead of tablets individually wrapped in plastic. Again, no drama here – I’ve got my cool little scoop thing and it’s just as quick as unwrapping the packet (and quicker and much less annoying than washing it and putting it in the Ecobrick), and washes clothes just as effectively. Even better if I had time to research properly all the zillions of eco laundry solutions out there (ideally cruelty-free and ocean-safe). By the time the box has run out, I will have got my head around this.

Other changes that I’ve talked about, not specific to Saturdays, are moving to organic eggs (straightforward but more expensive) and switching to natural deodorant – this is on hiatus at the moment, as we’re going camping for 10 days soon (with a toddler – I know, I’m a lunatic) and there’s a real risk that the new natural one might melt – the packaging advises keeping it in the fridge during hot weather. So I will start using it when we get back, in parallel with my co-experimenter.

The really difficult change has been the baby wipes. Not actually because I have any real love for the wipes, but because of the practical issues for me of using the floor in the bathroom due to my knackered post-natal knees. I’ve got myself fixated on this as a reason not to make the switch – someone could probably write a good thesis on nudge theory about this sort of thing – as I’m convinced I’ve got to be next to the toilet to be able to chuck the loo roll down the loo after cleaning up the worst of the poo. Which is probably a nonsense excuse. So anyway I’m biting the bullet and buying some Cheeky Wipes, as I think this will be the motivator to make this change properly and I can set up a changing station upstairs with the clean and mucky boxes. Not even going to attempt this while we’re camping though, I’m afraid that’s definitely more than I can cope with.

I’m wondering if any of my readers have done any research on the “biodegradable” wipes that are being hyped up now and if there’s any truth in the claims made? Or is this more green-washing vibes?

So there we are, that’s the #SaturdaySwitch updates. Riveting stuff, as always.

#PlasticBandWagon part 3 – get rid of all your Tupperware?

Please note – this is NOT my Tupperware drawer. This is a borrowed image from this very funny article after a Google image search of “messy Tupperware drawer”, because all my Tupperware is stored very neatly with (almost) no missing lids.

So I’m seeing lots of stuff in my social media echo chamber about how to “rid your house of plastic”, “go plastic free” and lots of “plastic is rubbish!” posts. Like I’ve said in my previous post about plastic toys, I don’t think that plastic itself is rubbish, I think it’s pretty useful. Disposal of single-use plastic is a massive problem, of course, but I think that the plastic that we already have – whether given to us, bought in former times when we didn’t think about this stuff, or just durable, useful stuff which will last a long time – should be looked after, used and reused until it’s no longer usable, then disposed of as responsibly as possible. We should respect it for the energy and virgin materials we took from the planet to create it. I find the whole “plastic is evil” mantra to be very simplistic and usually a bit smug – but hey, I love your hand-knitted hemp and bamboo hammock, well done, you’re a much better human than me.

Plus, I bloody love Tupperware. Tidy, useful, stackable Tupperware. So imagine my horror when my good friend and blog follower Anne sent me a link to this: “Save your money and save the planet! I absolutely need to replace my entire Tupperware cabinet with these!”

Further quotation from the product page:

“Made with 100% Platinum silicone. Because you’re worth it. Traditional plastic containers are petroleum based and can contain harmful chemicals. These toxins can leach into your food especially when heating or microwaving. That’s why pure silicone is best for your health. No BPA, no lead, no PVC, no Phthalates.”

Surprise, surprise, 60% off at the moment #WarOnPlastic #PlasticFreeJuly. Wonder if L’Oréal know that they’ve nicked their slogan…?

Silicone seems to be the anti-plastic material being advertised most aggressively at the moment – not biodegradable, but recyclable “where facilities exist”. RecycleNow has no information on silicone recycling, and a fairly thorough Google of “silicone recycling in London” reaped no rewards… so these will probably last forever too.

So, is Tupperware (or any other brand of plastic food storage system) actually dangerous and should we all be going out a replacing it with other materials?

There are plenty of articles out there like this one, which could very feasibly terrify us all into chucking out our plastic boxes and replacing with silicone/bamboo/glass/whatever, anything to prevent “structural damage to your brain” and “changes in gender-specific behaviour and abnormal sexual behaviour” – NB no definition of these given. There’s also a helpful reference to a Daily Mail article. And who is Dr Mercola exactly – does he have some sort of doctoral qualification in chemical engineering or toxicology? No.

Alternatively, there’s some nice evidence-based science from actual scientists at Cancer Research UK and Harvard Health Publishing – my summary take from these articles is that microwave-safe plastic containers are safe, but heating food in lots of other kinds of plastic probably isn’t a great idea. This is also a really useful , although maybe slightly alarmist article on the different types of plastic and the ones to avoid. All my food boxes are plastic #5, so I’m certainly not worried about using them for storage.

Am I convinced about the heat issue from microwaving or dish washing? There’s so much out there, but the science-based stuff (more here and here) suggests it’s probably ok if you avoid BPA and stick to microwave-safe containers – but then there’s doubt cast on cans! It’s endless… This article is also really good and warrants further reading, as there’s a lot I don’t understand in it about plastic science.

Anyway, there is endless reading to be done and it’s very difficult to analyse the research unless you’re a chemical engineer. So my conclusions are:

  • I’m going to keep using my Tupperware for storage, but try to avoid microwaving in it (I don’t do this much anyway) or using in the dishwasher.
  • I’m not going to buy some dubious silicone cling-film replacement, which by many reports and reviews isn’t that good anyway, made by companies who are cashing in on the #WarOnPlastic like it’s some kind of fad. And I’m going to keep on exposing and getting cross about green-washing bullsh*t like this, because it distracts us from the real issues at stake. Buying yet more stuff will not save the planet.
  • I’m going to keep encouraging people to reuse and respect their existing plastic possessions, rather than succumbing to this weird demonisation of useful, durable stuff which we already possess.
  • I’m going to keep working on eliminating single-use plastic from our lives, but with an understanding that I can’t do it all at once.
  • Here endeth the lesson.

Back soon with updates from the Council about #smokegate, arguing with strangers on the internet about paper bags, and overcoming my eBay antipathy.

#SaturdaySwitch part 3 – the magical bottomless laundry basket

There is a German fairy tale I remember reading at school about a family with a magic porridge pot which produces endless porridge. One day, the mother (of course…) forgets to tell it to stop cooking, and it overflows endlessly until the whole town is full of porridge. I can’t remember what happens at the end but the it’s probably a happy ending involving an elf or fairy of some sort. And hopefully someone gives the mother some wine and helps her clean the house up.

So I think in most households with small people, the laundry basket feels a bit like this – if you blink, it’s overflowing again and you lose any semblance of control. I can’t imagine how people cope once multiple school uniforms, football kits and all that are in the mix. Although by then the food-related mess may have reduced a bit, I hope…?

We’ve been using these laundry tablets from Aldi for absolutely ages, because they’re cheap, basically, and they get the job done. The blurb says to use 2 tablets per wash, which I actually didn’t realise and have always used only one, so the cost per wash is 4.9p.

BUT the tablets come wrapped in these little bastards:

Possibly the most annoying bits of plastic known to man, and very hard to clean and dry for the ecobrick. So I have just switched to a big 2.6kg carton, which eliminates 18 of these plastic sachets. Or reduces the demand for them, at least, by me not buying them. I think works out cheaper if you don’t use the advised dosage of 85ml or 65g (which based on previous experience with tablets is more than you need). So by using 50ml or 42g (I totally don’t understand this conversion rate – I thought it was like for like with liquid and solids but apparently not!), I make it 4.8p per wash. So not dramatically cheaper, but a lot less annoying plastic rubbish.

I bought a four pack of these snazzy measuring scoops in different sizes too (NB I bought these before the beginning of “no buy July” – more on this tomorrow). My husband is using one for his porridge at work, and has stopped using the expensive sachets of oats with the little measuring line for milk. I will work out the plastic and money saving on this in my copious spare time – but the magnificent Jack Monroe has done her own version here at 3p per portion, vs. Asda’s own brand at 7.9p per portion.

So the washing powder seemed like a nice straightforward Saturday Switch. But then I read something which suggested that the packaging of laundry boxes isn’t recylable, as it’s coated in plastic to protect the powder from moisture and humidity. So is that true, or is this true?

I am going to tweet Aldi to see if they can offer some reassurance on this… will keep you posted.

Then there are the many various “eco” brands of laundry out there on the market, some of which come in plastic packaging. What constitutes cruelty-free, or even vegan? What causes the least pollution? Is there any way to make a further switch that’s still cost-effective, as well as also being effective on stubborn pesto stains?

I feel like each question I ask generates about another 100 questions and this is going to be a LONG journey. I know you’re all rooting for me – say hi in the comments or on Twitter, especially if I don’t know you in real life! Who are my mystery readers in Finland, Sweden, South Korea, Kenya and Qatar? I would love to know!

P.S. Sorry for the hiatus in posting this week, been on holiday to Center Parcs. Watch this space this week for Center Parcs’ plastic sins, my everyday activism ideas, “No Buy July” and maybe some other things, depending on the length of a certain small person’s naps…

#SaturdaySwitch part 2 – yog yog

Yoghurt is a staple of ours and has been since early on in the weaning process. It’s usually very popular and has sometimes been the only thing eaten in times of teething and illness. Sometimes it gets quite messy, and I have tons of funny photos of my boy covered in yoghurt, which would make great headers for this blog – but when he’s 18 he might object to me having shared them publicly, so this stock photo will have to do.

We made a lot of purchase decisions out of convenience/exhaustion in the early days, especially during the brief and hideous period of time when I was working four days a week on the other side of London and we literally couldn’t cope with our lives. So we just got used to buying multi-packs of baby yoghurt, as that’s what we’ve always done. And what a no-brainer of a switch this has turned out to be. Here’s the maths:

Little Yeo – 4 x 90g pot yoghurt, creates 36g empty plastic packaging. Costs: £1.40, or 2 packs for £2 (permanently on offer in Asda) – cost of yoghurt per 100g = 27.7p

Petit Filous – 6 x 47g pot yoghurt, creates 24g empty plastic packaging. Costs: £1.40, or 2 packs for £2 (same offer as above, also £1 in Co-op) – cost of yoghurt per 100g = 35.5p

Yeo Valley – 1 x 450g pot yoghurt, creates 13g empty plastic packaging. Costs: £1.50, or 2 packs for £2 (same again from Asda, also £1 in Co-op for any flavour) – cost of yoghurt per 100g = 22p

A slight downside of course is having to serve a portion of the big tub in a bowl, but there’s less washing up of annoying plastic for recycling and the ecobrick, with the added bonus that I get to eat some too. Sometime I even get fed it. “Mummy want yog yog?” Definitely no photos of that being shared any time soon.

I can’t quite fathom how to work out the savings per week on this, but it’s definitely cheaper and worth it for the plastic saving alone. Someone did suggest having a go at making my own yoghurt, which is a thought indeed – although I fear that these kinds of missions (similar to DIY deodorant) would have a detrimental impact on the amount of CBeebies viewing that goes on in this house. Maybe we’ll do it together one day as messy play… do I get extra smug mummy points for that? Anyone want to come over and help?

Here’s some photos of weighed plastic to prove I did this properly (NB the outer packaging of the big pot of Yeo Valley is cardboard so should go into the recycling separately).

The Great Deodorant Experiment

I’ve decided that each time something runs out, I’m going to attempt to replace it with a zero-waste or plastic-free alternative. Or consider whether it actually needs replacing at all, or whether whatever it is can be sourced second-hand. Sorry, obtained. “Sourced” is a bit of an overused word at the moment, in my humble opinion. Like “curated”.

So my plastic-packaged roll on deodorant ran out last week. (I usually have two on the go, one in the bathroom and one in the bedroom, so I’m not stinky, don’t worry). The packaging can go into our local Terracycle collection – there is some skepticism about Terracyle, but they do promise to never landfill or incinerate any of the waste that they collect and have a variety of programmes, so until further research convinces me otherwise, I’m a fan.

I’ve decided to try a natural deodorant – I’m not at all sure I believe the Daily Mail type stuff about the chemicals in deodorants causing cancer, but this is on my ever-expanding list of things to read up more about. Critically, though, this product is “zero waste” – the packaging is 100% biodegradable cardboard, which I think means it can be composted. The truly zero-waste method, of course, would be to make your own, like this, but I think that perhaps my life is too short and also, the boy only naps once a day and there’s a limit to how much CBeebies can be permitted, even in the name of planet-saving.

So the plastic-free option is of course staggeringly expensive (£7) in comparison to a plastic roll on from a recognised brand, which costs between £1 and £2 depending on brand, shop and any ongoing offers.

However, the product information promises great things in terms of longevity:

” Don’t be put off by the size (40ml), these bad boys are small but MIGHTY! One little tube should keep you going for a few months. If you look more closely at your plastic deodorant you’ll find most of its size is its packaging, a bit like those ‘big’ bags of crisps that are only half full!! “

So I have roped in a wiling friend to participate in an experiment to test out the cost-effectiveness of this choice. On the day I start using my 40ml tea tree oil and lemongrass natural deodorant, she will start using a new 50ml roll-on (this one, if you’re interested), and we will see which one runs out first! Will the natural one last 7 times as long as the plastic-packaged one? Only time will tell…

Thank goodness for friends who humour me.

Eggies!

We eat a lot of eggs. Our son is particularly enthusiastic about them – he will sit in his high chair at lunchtime yelling “eggiesh!!!” until his omelette is served up. He also gets quite excited about helping to “do mixing!” for scrambled eggs.

We also read a lot of books about farms. We are teaching our son, through these books, that farms are like the picture above – spacious, green and happy places (although I’m a bit worried about the proximity of those cats to the hen house – if they’re anything like our #notvegan cat, those plump chickens won’t last long).

I decided a long time ago, at my first Rise Up Singing camp (an amazing singing camp on the edge of Dartmoor, where I’ve learnt a lot about community, sustainable living and being a part-time hippy) to try really hard not to eat animals who’ve had a miserable life. This has been quite hard to stick to, while keeping budgetary constraints in mind and also the need for convenience when working 100,000 hours a week as an NHS manager, or more recently when spending every waking moment trying to stop a toddler from maiming himself. But we have recently made some decisions on this; this post is about eggs in particular.

So, just in case you’re interested, a brief history of welfare issues for egg production is as follows:

2012 saw the EU banning “barren” battery cages for hens. Hens are still allowed to be kept in “enriched”cages, with supposedly more room to scratch and nest, and places to perch. But Compassion in World Farming’s investigations show that the reality of this system is still a huge amount of suffering for hens: overcrowding causes feather-pecking, most hens are painfully debeaked and they have limited space to carry out natural behaviours such as washing, wing flapping and dust-bathing. Approximately 58% of all chickens farmed in the EU are within caged systems. If you think this should no longer be allowed, you can support the End the Cage Age campaign here.

Going back to 2004, the UK introduced a mandatory labelling scheme to identify the farming method used, and this led to an increase in demand for higher welfare eggs. 60% of UK eggs are now cage free – either barn eggs (in barns with no access outdoors but no cages), free range or organic.

BUT – and here’s the rub. How free range is your free range egg? Possibly not very. “Multi-tier” free range hens are a thing – basically they live in multi-storey metal layers in a barn, with a limited amount of exits to the outside, which are often blocked off by dominant hens. Over-crowding is a major issue; there is no limit on flock size, as is the case for organic farming. Beak trimming is also commonly practiced. This article is a grim read but probably represents the reality of a lot of “free range” chicken farming, where less than 10% of the hens are outside at any given time, and some are never able to go outside at all.

So we have decided to only buy organic – unless we can be completely assured of the welfare standards of the farm supplying the free range eggs. This takes a lot of effort and research and I think is only really possible if you personally know the farm (difficult in zone 3), or the shop-keeper (maybe possible in a health food shop or green grocer – I’m working on this in our locale).

The cheapest organic eggs I’ve found are from Aldi at 20.83p each – vs. 12.33p each for free range and 7.9p for eggs from caged hens. If you buy 12 eggs per week, switching from caged to organic would cost you an extra £1.55 per week, and switching from free range to organic would cost you an extra £1.03. Maths is not my strong point, but I think this means that organic eggs are over 250% more expensive than caged.

We’ve managed to afford this switch by making other savings, mainly by significantly reducing how much meat we eat and cooking a lot of Jack Monroe‘s amazing recipes. It’s a matter of priorities, and every decision has an impact on other decisions – every action has a reaction.

I am really thinking hard about the whole vegan concept – not ready to write about this yet, but give it time! I am going to have vegan dinner tonight at Cafe Rouge, so follow me on Twitter for exciting food photos! @TheEverydayRad1

(No Instagram, ever. Promise)

Another little thought about dish washing

Dish washing. Exciting stuff this weekend, isn’t it?

We have possibly the world’s most expensive dishwasher. At least it felt like that when we bought it, but to be fair it is amazing and super-efficient. According to Miele, it’s 10% more efficient than the EU energy efficiency class A+++. We were lucky to be able to afford it (bought in considerably less lean times than we are in these days).

I’ve finally researched, and found to be factual, my long-held assumption that dishwashers use less energy, water and soap than hand-washing. See also this Guardian article, which suggests that the carbon footprint calculation is slightly more marginal, and of course only applies if you run the dishwasher full and look after it so it lasts a long time. We run the Eco setting overnight, which is definitely the greenest option.

But – and here’s the fun bit – quite often at the end of the evening there’s still stuff to wash up that won’t fit in the dishwasher and it’s bloody annoying. So I thought that something which would help is to keep the same mug, teaspoon (3 cups of coffee a day here), water and squash glasses on the go all day. Which might mean there’s more space leftover for dinner pans and stuff, so less late night washing up.

I’m a genius, I know. Here’s a picture of Friday’s selection just to convince you.

(Also note the hidden implication here of non-plastic toddler crockery – virtuous bamboo can’t go in the dishwasher. Also the need to wash out all the recycling and the plastic that we put in the Ecobrick. Oooh what’s an Ecobrick, I hear you cry? Wait for it… or have a look at the website if you can’t wait.)

#SaturdaySwitch part 1

Welcome to Saturday Switch! (It’s got its own hashtag and everything).

My Dad just told me that my last post was too long, with unnecessary footnotes, and to remember that I’m not writing an MBA dissertation, so I will keep this brief.

Saturday switch is going to be an easy (ish) switch that we’ve made to a more eco-friendly product, which will also be a long-term cost saving.

These plastic scourers are bad news for the environment, essentially made of petroleum and 0% biodegradable, also leaking microplastics into the water. So cheap and so effective, but so toxic (also wrapped in non-recyclable plastic film).

We’ve replaced with a double pack of EuroScrubbys, which are made of cotton, are machine-washable and long-lasting and compostable when they reach the end of their lives. They’re very effective – not great on glasses, so we might add a loofah sponge to the washing up armoury in due course.

Admittedly we bought them on Amazon and they came wrapped in plastic, so not perfect – some better options here and alternative ideas here, I didn’t really research this fully enough before making the purchase.

Costings:

Two EcoScrubbys = £7.95, so £3.96 each.

Sainsbury’s non-scratch sponge scourers £1.00 for 6, 17p each.

Asda Smart Price scourers (cheapest I can find) 40p for 8, 5p each.

So assuming you’re using the cheapest plastic-based scourers and you change them once a week, the break-even point would be around 18 months. If you’re using the higher end products (also assuming weekly change), the break-even point would be just under six months.

So not actually a brilliant financial saving after all, but an ocean saver and a plastic free choice. Any thoughts?

Stinky little bottom – or, #plasticbandwagon poos.*

A vast array of poo-related songs have been created in our house over the past two years, plus many re-writes of well-known songs with bum-related lyrics. A personal favourite of mine is the tune of Jingle Bells with the words “stinky bum, stinky bum, very stinky bum, oh what fun it is to do a great big stinky poo…” etc. And one of my all-time greatest parenting memories so far is singing alternative stinky bottom lyrics in harmony to the Thula Mama song ( a Zulu lullaby) with one of my very beloved mum friends.**

Anyway. I’m a bit late to the party on the whole sustainable/eco nappy thing. I always intended to go for reusable nappies (or “cloth bums”, as some people insist on calling them). But the truth is that I found the first few weeks and months of parenting so incredibly tough, for a variety of reasons, that I never managed it. I’m sure it’s not all that complicated to get a system set up for the reusable ones, but it just felt overwhelming to me and I could never quite get my head around it. If we have small person #2 (should we?), I am determined to crack it, although I do have some qualms about the impact of the additional laundry – yet more to be thought about here. I’m not sure it’s worth the financial outlay to make the change now for small person #1, especially as I think we’re quite close to potty training (what larks await us…!).

We did try out biodegradable nappies, but they cost a fortune, and leaked. We tried biodegradable nappy bags, but they also cost a fortune and seemed pointless if the nappy therein isn’t biodegradable.

We use Waterwipes, which are chemical free, and never flush them, but of course we now know that they contain plastic (80% polyester and 20% viscose, according to Friends of the Earth – this article looks like the final word on the subject of wet wipes, I haven’t read every word but will do eventually and maybe do a follow-up post if there’s anything interesting to say).

I’ve sort of justified it to myself on this by acknowledging that our black bin waste doesn’t end up in landfill. Our borough incinerates non-recyclable waste at an energy recovery facility. So this statement that I keep seeing that every single disposable nappy ever used is now in landfill isn’t actually true. But even so, no matter how clean these facilities purport to be, clearly they will have some negative environmental impact.

So anyway, enough excuses, let’s cut to the chase.

I did a wipe-free pooey nappy change yesterday and no one died. I used the front of the nappy to get rid of the worst (always do this anyway), then loo roll for the rest, then a damp flannel for final wipe and dry flannel for drying. The main hassle factor for me is having to do this on the floor in the bathroom to be near the loo, rather than upstairs on the changing table which I still use as my knees are still knackered post-pregnancy. But I think it’s probably worth the pain, so I’m up for making this a long-term switch and using up the Waterwipes stash while out and about. I think we will also save up for some Cheeky Wipes, for this purpose and also for post-meal carnage clear-up.

So I guess this very long post is aiming to show that these decisions at a household level are not totally straightforward, despite the #WaronPlastic rhetoric. But I think I’ve made the decision for us to ditch the wipes, and I’m seeing lots of other people making it too, which can only be a good thing for the planet.

(And it’s probably cheaper in the long run too, I will do the maths on this at some point, just for fun),

*John B, Blandwagon Poos – it’s so funny you might wet yourself, although you have to be pretty rad and cool to like drum n bass.

Parental Advisory Explicit Lyrics - 40 x 50 Cm Art Print/Poster

**Thula Mama is the brain-child of Helen Yeomans, a franchise of singing groups for mums with their pre-walking babies, running all over the UK and beyond. Lush acapella harmonies, coffee and cake – kept me sane in the early days for sure. Spotify playlist here, YouTube video here (just made me cry a little bit). Also CDs available, highly recommended for long car journeys, as well as the 3am shift.

P.S. I’m on Twitter, @TheEverydayRad1. I’m a bit lonely. If you want to see photos of my cabbage pasta and lentil ragu, and other random stuff I share, follow me!

The challenge of plastic vegetables…

No, I’m not talking about tripping over a plastic aubergine on the living room floor, or breaking up toddler fights over the play kitchen at playgroup. Although that’s an everyday challenge I face too.

There’s been palpable shock-waves on social media from people who watched the first episode of BBC’s The War on Plastic last week, presented by Anita Rani and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, particularly in relation to the truth about what’s happening to some of our kerbside recycling. A recycling bag from Essex finding its way into the Malaysian jungle is a staggeringly shocking thing.

We’re always been avid recyclers and I still believe there’s a place for recycling, with an improved understanding of the end-to-end process and taking full responsibility for our own waste. Exporting it to developing countries who don’t even have their own kerbside recycling (I had a reference for this in relation to Malaysia somewhere and now I can’t find it – when I do, I will post it!) is definitely not the answer. We can no longer be smugly assured that our yoghurt pots aren’t in fact ending up in the ocean.

Until we have some assurance about the destination of our recycling (post coming on this soon where I will be badgering Greenwich Council with FOI requests to find out the destinations of what I diligently put in my blue bin), I think more and more people are coming to the conclusion that our priority must be to reduce. This is hard work for us well-trained 21st century consumers, programmed as we are to buy more and more stuff and expect ready-chopped mangoes to be available all year round.

So I’m setting us a challenge at home to reduce, reduce, reduce and I will be posting more about this over the next few weeks.

We are very lucky to have an amazing green grocer nearby, and I have managed an almost plastic-free shop today:

My son gets particularly excited, bellowing “bananananash” across the shop and insisting on paying himself with the “beep beep”. So it’s pretty fun for all concerned. But I am at home all week and can take my time and shop most days for fresh produce. It’s more expensive than shrink-wrapped supermarket veg, and we can afford it mainly because we hardly eat any meat now. Some of it has still travelled a long way (no bananananash grown in Kent, as far as I know) and we definitely can’t afford to only buy organic.

So none of this stuff is simple. Shopping locally doesn’t feel that radical to me, and isn’t possible for everyone, but it’s enabling us to reduce our plastic waste massively.

It’s #meatfreeMonday tonight, so if you’re super lucky, I might share a photo of my lentil ragu later. No Instagram though, promise. Never going to happen.