My dad likes to give me a hard time about my attempts to "save the planet."
Reusing, conserving and being good stewards of the Earth were part of my mom's and dad's lives growing up as farm kids in Southeast Missouri. The ebbs and flows of nature dictated good seasons and bad seasons, hearty years and years of struggle.
But logic and a sense that God always balances things out were enough to move ahead to the next season and keep doing what worked.
So, all this media and political attention and jumping on the "go green" bandwagon has made my dad's ever-present jibing of my life choices more popular during lazy afternoon visits home or abbreviated phone calls.
I walk to and from work, hang my clothes to dry and eat fresh veggies from local producers as often as possible. This isn't a lifestyle I've recently begun, but national attention (and, admittedly, new choices being added to my regimen) have made the topic more popular with Dad.
Wearing secondhand clothes in college was quirky. Becoming a vegetarian was odd though acceptable as long as he didn't have to eat (or be near the cooking of) anything soy. Walking to work during my first year out of college was just good financial sense.
And, thanks to Mom's impetus, Dad has been the head of a lazy but earth-loving family since I was young. She keeps the recycle bins in rotation, had him dumping scraps into a relatively successful compost pile for a few years and dutifully reuses every plastic bag she brings home.
It is these plastic bags that have brought on my dad's latest tongue-in-cheek tirades.
While reusing the bags (or returning them to recycle at the store) is a great start to help with the glut of trash we produce, over the past few years I have made a concerted effort to start bringing my own bags. It started in college by carrying my book bag to the farmers market and thrift stores.
When I purchased some great shopping bags on a trip to South Africa, the onslaught against plastic bags really began. The grocery store was an obvious first step, but I couldn't stop there.
I began taking bags to the mall and to the hardware store. I became a collector of interesting (and industrious) bag shapes and designs. Before we headed to Memphis, Tenn., for a day of shopping, I made sure to pack bags for each stop (because who really needs another Victoria's Secret bag?
I started frequenting shops that gave discounts for bringing your own bags. I stopped shopping at stores where the counter clerks hassled me or downright refused to use my bags (one of many reasons I no longer shop for "everyday low prices").
And this past year, I began taking bags with me when I travel. Market shopping in Turkey? I've got my shoulder bag. Groceries in D.C.? My Whole Foods bag is ready to go. Even a trip to pick up groceries for my mom during a Christmas visit gave me a chance to bring out the old tried-and-trues.
It was also, unfortunately, a great embarrassment to my little brother ("Sis, people are staring! And they're upset because you're taking longer!"). Which, unfortunately, opened a whole new avenue to my father's wondrous witticisms.
So, in an effort to look a little less like a crazy bag lady ("You know, they give those to you at the store for free." Really? Thanks, Dad.) and to keep my family and friends from dying of embarrassment I decided to make a few less conspicuous Earth-friendly bags that even they might decide to start carrying (maybe, one day).
Sleepyhead Shoulder Bag
This bag will not only help you curb your plastic bag dependency, it can also jump start your reusing and recycling because it's made from an old pillowcase.
Vanessa Cook is a former copy editor for the Southeast Missourian who dabbles in decorating.
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