Coffee Cup Lids

I'm a Starbuck's coffee drinker. There are times, months even, when I abstain; when I require even my coffee to meet local standards and I drip single cups next to the office sink. And then something slips, work gets busy, I forget to bring milk, I need a treat and I'm back in the coffee line.

To justify, I work down the street from a Starbuck's; but then who doesn't? And the people who work there are nearly as familiar as co-workers.

For a long time I didn't give a thought to the paper coffee cup, the paper sleeve, the lid. It all went in the trash. I appreciated the convenience.

Finally I started saving the sleeves in my top desk drawer. Throwing them away seemed unnecessary. I'd arrange them in identical stacks, band and return them. The baristas would look at me funny and I'd feel funny but they'd return the stacks to inventory. Eventually I requested no sleeves.

This next piece is embarrassing. It was only recently that I realized the lids on the cups were plastic. I mean really registered that the lids are plastic and will end up in landfill. And I was adding one a day. I used the lid for five minutes and into the landfill it went.

So I asked them to not use lids. They made hearts of frothy foam on the tops of my drinks instead.

I was down to a bare paper cup. But it was still going in the landfill. I'd do the math on the way to the office; five days, five cups times four weeks, okay, 20 times 12 months, minus holidays ..... It was a a lot of cups.

I committed to buying a thermos cup. I had one in my hand to buy. It was green with swirls. I liked it. A lot. The line was out the door. I got in it. But with only two people left in front of me I realized the cup was plastic. I put it back on the shelf and went to the end of the line for coffee. I'm crazy, I thought.

The cute guy restored my sanity though. "I have a cup for you," he said. "It's in my truck." (Everything is in his truck.)

"It fell off someones car," he announced holding a blue thermos cup up like a trophy. The cup is dented with a plastic shell. There are no swirls unless I count the road scratches but the cup isn't in the landfill. And neither are the five paper cups, times four, times ten that I was adding every day, month and year either.

The final bonus? There's a ten cent discount for bringing in my own cup. I'll do the math on that later.

China Lilies

I don't often look to buy flowers but occasionally at the farmers' market there are those that look for me and then without a question I'm taking them home. That was the case with the bunch of china lilies above. There were two buckets of them calling my name. I wanted them all.

I have a soft spot for old fashioned field grown and small plot cut flowers. They have a character that hot house flowers have lost along with their natural growing seasons. I may be delusional but I swear I can smell the difference.

It's not hard actually. Imagine a hot house rose and then one from your neighbors front yard. Pick the neighbors that could be your grandparents. Their roses will smell the best. Can you tell the difference? Yeah. That's what I'm talking about. One has history and sunshine. The other is an industrially grown resemblance of a flower, likely grown to fit a marketing plan for color, size and shipping convenience.

The difference goes beyond smell though. Flowers show everything on their face. Those grown as industrial commodities reveal it as surely as a bunch of laughing organic china lilies.

Don't believe me though. Check it out for yourself and see which calls your name.

And then bring them home!

Seasonal Fruit



Me: "I didn't know cherries were in season."

Friend: "If you shop at Costco cherries in Chile are in season."

We laughed because she knows I would never buy them and because I knew she would enjoy them.

Aside from the fact the cherries are shipped from halfway across the world, packaged in single use plastic that even if recyclable is not going to return to the natural world in the life time of any generation I'll ever know, I wouldn't buy them because I'd miss out on what's in season right here. I live in California and can only eat so much fruit. Why eat fruit from Chile?

It's big citrus season right now. Today I had the first grapefruit of the year from the Capay Valley. I've never known one to be so smooth. Eating it was a well rehearsed choir. There were no sour notes, no puckered moments that I expect from grapefruit.

And the same grower has clementines. They're great for work because they can be peeled without getting sticky fingers. And yes, they sing too. Bright voices with perfectly high pitched notes.

There are kumquats in season that I'd never trade for imported fruit. Kiwi that are actually grown locally (I thought they were all imported). And there are limes in our back yard, meyers lemons in everyone else's.

As soon as all this citrus becomes repetitive it'll be over I'll be on to the next season. And maybe it's just me, but the fruit tastes sweeter when I eat what's grown in the same season I see when I look out the door. The local season for cherries is worth waiting for.

Haiku Friday


Tethered, the black dog
waited beneath a flat moon;
her white face smiling.

Cloth Produce Bags

I have a new favorite thing.

It's an ecobag, produce bag, being sold at the Marin Farmers' Market. They're made of unbleached organic cotton and weigh less than a handful of arugula. I feel decadent filling them with clementines or dropping a bunch of dirty carrots into them. And it feels natural using the soft cloth, foregoing the plastic, reused or not. I swear the spinach let out a sigh of relief as it went into the bag this morning. "Thank you for not suffocating me," I imagined it saying.

The ecobag website recommends putting the cloth produce bag into plastic as a way to keep produce fresher longer in the fridge. At first I balked at the advice but it makes sense. The plastic bag won't have to be washed given it's only an outer cover and therefore can be reused forever. Unless of course the produce turns into a science experiment and then, well, then the zucchini will eat the cotton bag and the plastic bag will save your life from the ooze and a proper burial blessing should be chanted before the entire mess is mummified into the landfill for generations to come.

At $2 each the produce bags sold at the' market are less than the online price at ecobags unless you buy 50 or more. Which would be an investment but not a bad idea. They're a great gift on their own or filled with some local flavor. They're also clever gift wrapping that won't go straight to the landfill.

I've been looking for a good alternative to plastic produce bags for some time. The bags made from old t-shirts were good for tree fruits but too heavy for lighter more delicate foods. The ecobag net sacks and organic cotton bags were heavy too and pricey to the point I didn't enjoy them.

The new produce bags are just right.

Have you seen them or do you have another great alternative to the plastic produce bags? I'd love to know.

Haiku ... Saturday


Baked winter squash topped
with orange blossom honey butter
melts in my mouth.

2009 Lemonade

A group of friends and I have a New Years tradition of speaking our appreciations of the last year. There's always a few tears, more laughter and an easy camaraderie from the years we've known each other. Last night I found a new appreciation though. It was for each of their efforts towards lightening their carbon footprint and taking care of the local community.

I get wrapped around the whole food thing, eating local and avoiding plastic food packaging that I forget to appreciate the other ways to step lightly. I have a couple of friends who buy their clothes primarily at consignment shops. Another is considering a Prius. This is as good as local lettuce.

The Takeout Queen who hostesses the yearly dinner had the restaurant put the food into her own serving bowls to carry home. And the fish she served for appetizers was from the Seafood Watch best choice list. On top of that her new guy gardens and has a network of neighbors that share their harvests.

Another couple volunteers to deliver food to people who can't get out and another works with children from broken homes. And yet another friend works in the solar industry, while another faithfully carries canvas sacks to the grocery store and requests her summer and fall papers not be delivered in plastic.

Can we do more? Tons more. But I'm appreciative for the variety of actions we are taking and that's the half a glass I'm carrying into the new year. That and a new resolve to check out consignment stores and do something different about how I get the newspaper. Progress will be made.

Happy New Year. Thanks for being here and for doing what you do.