We’re number one…and two…and five!

Like everyone who’s inclined to think that the human habit of trashing everything we touch needs to be curbed, my husband and I have been passionate recyclers for decades. Recently, our local way of dealing with recycling changed, and the change made me realize how unaware we’ve been about the presence of plastic in our lives

For years until this summer, our town—with voter approval—had provided curbside, no-sort recycling. It was recycling made very easy. Rinse out the cans, bottles and plastics, gather the cardboard and paper, and put them all together in a bin, place it at the end of our driveway on our scheduled mornings, and it would be hauled away by lunchtime.

As the saying goes—rinse and repeat.

Well, back in the spring, our selectboard faced a dilemma when they received our waste hauler’s bid to continue providing this service. The price had gone up, way up. In fact, Vermont is in a tight spot when it comes to taking care of our trash. With our mountains, steep valleys, rivers, and lakes, there just aren’t that many places to bury it. (Which is not the best solution but so far, no one’s suggested anything better.)

I’ve often though it would be lovely if we could wave a magic wand to make our trash disappear. And up until our town returned to “everyone has to take care of their own recycling,” we kinda sorta did have exactly that. We piled everything into one bin and POOF, it disappeared.

But now, we have to handle our waste ourselves. And that brings a very different level of attention to the matter of how much garbage we generate.

My husband and I try to share our household chores with something approaching fairness and equality. His car is a bit bigger than mine so he’s the one with the dump sticker on his windshield. And that means he makes our trash runs when needed. With the disappearance of curbside, my part of the taking-care-of-waste chores became sorting the recycling. And I’m here to tell you that my first foray was an enlightening experience, especially on the plastic front.

My foggy memory of Before Curbside (BC) times had mistakenly registered the fact that number 5 plastic (PP–polypropylene) was the most prevalent number in our personal waste stream. Being aware of the prevalence of single-use plastics, I tried never to use single use cups, don’t drink soda of any kind, and avoid plastic takeout containers. So I thought we were okay on the #1 (PETE–polyethylene terephthalate) front.

But since BC, eggs are now sold in single-use (#1) plastic containers. The bottle that holds the milk for my tea is sometimes single use PETE. Lettuce arrives in #1 plastic boxes, as do fragile berries such as straw- and rasp-. Earlier in the summer, we had family visiting here with young children, and young children drink out of single use containers.

A lot.

The more I sorted our plastic waste—and paid attention—the more I realized how much even well-meaning folks add to the trash that’s burying us. And plastic is virtually indestructible. Did you know that every bit of plastic ever made still exists in some form? While the first polymers hail back as far as 1869, our current world of plastic everything seriously took off in the aftermath of World War II.

As I looked with dismay at those #1 (PETE) containers filling a (plastic, of course) trash barrel, I was grateful for the exercise of my attention. I would LOVE to say that my husband and I believe we can eliminate plastic from our lives. But who am I kidding? In America—once the home of the free and the brave—circumventing the polymer problem will be difficult because the damn stuff is everywhere.

Including in our bodies.

But this extra attention has brought some changes. The eggs in our fridge were chosen because they come in a cardboard box which can be burned in our wood stove. And the beverage we’ve chosen to bring to a party tomorrow night is in aluminum cans, not plastic bottles, that were packaged in cardboard. And I switched the form I use for detergent in our washing machine. Now it’s in sheets packaged in cardboard, not a honking big ole plastic jug.

Small steps, I know. But my hope is, as I pay more and more attention to what comes into our house, I can whittle down our personal waste stream.

Now what needs my attention next? Freedom of speech? The right to vote? Protecting our children?

Sounds like a plan.

---

As I was writing this piece, I wanted to know when the first plastic was invented, and that led me to a fascinating article with a gobsmacking photograph that you won’t soon forget. (If you print it out and put it on your refrigerator, I swear you will pay more attention to your plastic use.) The article is all about the tragic history of plastics. Here’s the link in case you want to know more: https://www.sciencehistory.org/education/classroom-activities/role-playing-games/case-of-plastics/history-and-future-of-plastics/