You Don't Bring me Flowers...anymore.

Forgive me Mother Nature, for I have sinned.

I forgot to take my eco-bags into Woolies today. Uhuh. I hung my head in shame as I was asked the question, “Do you need plastic bags for these?”

I usually have eco-bags. I swear. I fold them all neatly and stack them into the cleanest, neatest bag and pack them into the pack of the Kia. I generally have between six and ten eco-bags in my stash, all colours of the rainbow. I know some people prefer all green ones, some prefer all calico. I, however, am earning extra ethical consumerism points by collecting eco-bags that support a cause. I have the Landcare one, the Daffodil Day bag, the Madeline and whatsit Foundation red one, the pink McGrath Foundation, several from schools and sporting groups, one supporting organic gay Canadians… and they all stack neatly into my Boomerang Jane sunny-yellow-patterned-with-dingle-dangles ultra-eco-bag.

And yes, I’m saying it out loud, TODAY I forgot them. Didn’t even just leave them in the car. I TOTALLY didn’t have any bags on me. I had a shopping list (on my iPhone so as to minimise paper wastage), a husband (to carry the groceries obviously) and a trolley whose wheels worked. Just no bags. Good thing I wasn't wearing my Earth Hour shirt.

You know that moment?

When you’re half way through the shop and realise that you’ve got no eco-bags? I hate that feeling. I feel like I’ve killed a baby harp seal with my potential wastefulness and lack of thoughtfulness. And I end up at the register telling Shennay or Jessibecca just to jam all the stuff into as few bags as they can, whilst I stand there apologising, silently praying that no dolphins are watching. I then sneak out of the centre as quick as I can hoping that no one notices my plastic bags.

Ahhh, what a change from ten years ago huh? My shopping friends and I used to revel in swinging our extra-thick hound’s-tooth David Jones plastic bags around, teasing onlookers with the thought that we might have purchased something special, worth more than $39.99. And yet, ten years before that, I remember my parents carting the groceries home in brown paper and string bags. Back before we sprayed hydro-whatsits all over our armpits and it took three layers of plastic to unwrap chicken pieces. When did it all change? And then change back? Is ethical consumerism just our generation reverting to the practices of our parents?

I’m researching steam mops at the moment.

You see, during The Move, the Better Homes and Gardens (BHG) addicted adolescent broke the mop (yes, she CLEANED!!!!) Which led us to thinking that we’d get a steam mop. And do you know what we used to justify the decision? Yep. Less chemicals. You can just use water you know. Really? No ‘stuff’? I thought long and hard about what my mother used to use to mop the lino and wooden floors of my childhood Bush Bogan abode. What ‘stuff’ did she put in that funny old metal bucket with the wringer on the side? Oh. That’s right. She used HOT WATER. Didn’t plug the mop into a powerpoint though. Ah well. Steam mop must be better. Less pushing or something. Technologically advanced. My friend Organica has one, so it mustn’t harm any small furry animals. And my ideal steam mop comes in this really nice bright yellow colour. EVERYONE knows that bright yellow is good for the environment.

I ordered a Bokashi online last week.

You know, that bucket thing for scraps that you put on the kitchen bench. I’ve been dying to try it out. In ‘the old house’ we had (scoff, pffft) a compost bin. But, you know, we’ve moved up in the world now (ok, across in the world I guess), so it’s TIME. It’s TIME for BOKASHI.

I’m going to LOVE my Bokashi. I’m going to sprinkle it with the special micro-organism powder and watch as it gobbles up my family’s organic waste. Am I supposed to chop everything into little pieces for the little tiny organisms to eat? Apparently, we can even put used tissues into the Bokashi, a fact that had BtT all grossed out. But at least, this way, we don’t have to revert to using hankies. Eww. It eats chicken bones too. I'm imagining some sort of vicious Venus Fly Trap inside a bucket. Hope it doesn't eat fingers.

I kind of have this GOAL.

I read it in David Suzuki’s book years ago. He reckoned that HIS family only disposed of ONE bag of rubbish a week. Ever since then I’ve wanted to emulate that. I desperately look at the bottom of packaging to see if it can be recycled. I’ve all but given up bought bikkies due to the non-recyclable packets (except the odd packet of tim-tams… in an emergency). I tried using one of those deodorant crystals, but BtT said I smelled funny (and truth be told, I used to secretly lick the crystal before I used it; it kinda tasted nice). I’m about to launch into using soapnuts to replace laundry powder, and I’m really not that into polyester or nylon anymore (once you use bamboo undies you just can’t go back).

But it’s a daily battle.

Recycle. Pre-cycle. Reduce. Re-use. Do I tick the carbon off-set box when booking a flight? Does it matter or is the world doomed because of fossil fuels anyway? Does my use of sulphate and paraben-free body products cancel out my Pepsi Max addiction? Should I discourage BtT from buying me flowers based on the packaging, hot house nasties and that little bag of 'stuff' that extends their vase life? If I walk to the shops 10% of the time, can I bank that and save up for a Mother Nature gold star? Or do I have to wear hand-me-downs and plant 75 baby trees as well? It's enough to make me bang my pan-flute against a sprout-eating llama.

Maybe it WAS easier before the Industrial Revolution. All dirt floors and hand-leavened bread. Beam me back Scotty.

And yes, I’ll carbon-offset the trip and bring my own bag. Forget the flowers. I'll pick my own when I get there.

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You Don't Bring me Flowers, Neil Diamond, 1978.