Thursday, 20 September 2012

It's not easy being green

I have a confession. I'm a bit of a tree hugger. Actually I'm a lapsed-but-now-re-embracing-my-inner-Eco-geek type of tree hugger. When I was about eight I used to take myself on what I called 'nature walks'. I would go out looking for things to add to my wildlife collection and if I saw an animal or bird, I would put a tick next to it in my wildlife book. I found it difficult to persuade anyone to go with me - I really can't think why.
When I grew up I wanted to be whatever it was you had to be in order to save the rainforests. I had no idea what that was, I just imagined myself living in a tree house surrounded by brightly coloured birds and monkeys.
At sixteen, I swore I would never drive a car, use disposable nappies if I had kids or use choose fashion over ethics. At thirty three I do or have done all of those things. I haven't saved the rainforests and the tree house has been replaced with a terraced house. Eight year old me would be crushed and sixteen year old me simply disgusted.

The truth is, it's bloody hard to be green these days. Properly green I mean.
A couple of years ago I was soaking up all the information I could find about self-sufficiency. Until it quickly dawned on me that it wasn't even remotely realistic unless;
a) we moved,
b) we paid off our mortgage and
c) we were both 100% in. Note the emphasis on the word "we".

The thing is, living in a terraced house leaves you rather limited regarding the space needed to grow your own food. Having a mortgage means being dependant on that office job and most importantly, if you're living with someone who thinks Ecover is a disease and would rather chew his arm off than use it well, you're stuffed basically.

But I want to have another stab at this green living marlarky. Not just because I'm a bit of a hippy and I really dig this shit man, but because I want to set a good example to Pip. And because even being self sufficientish and greenish is better than nothing.

And that's what I would tell sixteen year old me. As for eight year old me. I'd give her a hug and tell her not to give up on that tree house. There's still time.


  1. I believe it's down to the person who does the washing to decide what products they use. That's what I told Tim anyway...

  2. Too bloody right!

    I'm not going to tell him when I start using it. I'll let him work it out. *Insert evil laugh here* >;)


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