Ca-ching! Easy Money Savers in the Cleaning Closet
I just read some frightening stats on cleaning products:
- Add up the disposable cloths and pads used by Americans every year and we could collectively fill a caravan of 18-wheeler semi-trucks 68 miles long.
- Americans send 3,000 tons of paper towels to landfills every single day!
And this isn’t a cheap habit, either. I was astounded to discover that I may be spending about $50 every month on cleaning supplies! Apparently the average American’s yearly budget for disposable cleaning products and chemicals is around $600!
Consider, for instance, that a couple of jumbo-sized paper towels used per week costs me about $2, adding up to nearly $100 every year! And a motorized one-use floor mop that uses replacement pads, cleaning solution, and batteries can cost up to $468 every year.
So, goodbye to things I use only once… those one-use mops and paper towels, as well as sponges, scrubbers, disposable toilet bowl cleaners, those “magical” and “brite” scrubby pads, dusting, disinfecting, and shining wipes, and any other disposables I can find in my cleaning closet (well, I’ll use up what I have, but I’m not replacing them!).
Instead, I think I’m going to opt for microfiber for many of my cleaning requirements. Really good quality versions of these cloths will apparently last more than 10 years after hundreds of washings and can do almost any cleaning job. And the best part is that you often can get away without using chemicals at all when using microfiber. According to the Sustainable Hospitals Project – Are Microfiber Mops Beneficial for Hospitals? report, many US hospitals are now using microfiber instead of harsh cleaning chemicals.
So not only do I save money on disposable cleaning supplies, I also cut down on the number of cleaning concoctions I bring into my house. That means an even lower cleaning bill and a less toxic home, too. Sounds like savings to me!
- Lucy
Knocking on Hope’s Door
Andrea Ivory goes door to door to sign up uninsured women for FREE mammograms.
Open Letter to the Holiday Season
Dear Holiday Season,
Here we are again. You know how much I love the feel of your crisp air on my cheeks, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath my feet, and how you smell, cinnamon and nutmeg, rosemary and sage. I have to be honest with you though, even though what we have is temporary, for these few months we have together, you’re expectations are too high. I need to step back.
Now don’t get all upset, I’m not quitting us! I just know that when you’re here, I over-spend, over-eat and over-indulge. It’s too much for the little time we’re together. See, when we started this, the thought of you was nice, maybe we cooked a special dish, we took the time to make each other something. It’s different now. First it was just us, now it’s as if the whole economy of the free world is riding our back.
I can’t quit you. I like you, but I can’t put up with the expectations to buy-buy-buy and do-do-do and eat-eat-eat until I’m spent, pooped and stuffed. When this happens, there’s nothing enjoyable about us. And while I love you and all that you represent I can’t do this to myself anymore.
So Holidays, I’m taking it down a notch, dialing back the expectations. This season we’re not going all out, we’re just going to be.
- Aunt B
Oops! I Blew One Again
Not again! Another sock with a hole in the heel… and there goes another perfectly good pair (can’t wear mismatched socks to the office now, can we?).
Socks are a particularly vexing environmental problem for me. First, socks aren’t made of particularly environmentally-friendly materials. They’re usually a blend of cotton and polyester—cotton is one of the most chemical-intense crops in the world, using only 2.4 percent of the world’s farmland, but over 24 percent of the global insecticides, and polyester, well, it’s a petroleum product, so it supports an inherently unsustainable industry. So socks’ eco-reputation isn’t great to begin with.
But what bothers me perhaps even more is how poorly they’re made these days. You can’t buy a decent pair of business socks or dress socks without wondering, “How long will this pair last me?” Their short life makes the environmental problems even more problematic.
I’ve been collecting my annoying, hole-blown socks in a basket in the laundry room for several years now, and the pile is getting a little out of control as I put off darning them. I just haven’t known what to do with them!
Today’s the day. I’ve finally done some research on sock recycling options, and here are a few ideas I think you might find useful, too:
- Not surprisingly, old socks make good rags for cleaning, using on whiteboards, and the like. When slipped over your hand, they work well for cleaning blinds.
- If you have a dog, you could try tying several together to make a doggie chew toy. Alternatively, tie socks together and spray with catnip for an intoxicating treat for your feline.
- Protect your shows while doing dirty jobs—painting, cleaning, changing the oil—by slipping old socks over them. Or use old socks as polish rags for a bit of spit and shine.
- For those with backyards, old socks can be repurposed as stake ties to keep trees and bushes in place.
- Slip them over your baby’s knees (toes cut off, of course) to provide makeshift knee pads for new crawlers.
- Make toys, hot packs, or sock/rag rugs out of old socks for the back door or in the kitchen.
- Fill old socks with… other old socks and you’ve got a draft stopper for doors and windows.
- Use them for packing up china and other breakables on move day (one per glass or mug, for instance).
- Lucy
Serena The Wanna-Be Vegetarian: Off The Vegetarian Wagon… Again
Do vegetarians take a break? On holidays do some of you take a bite of stuffing knowing full well there’s sausage and giblets chopped up inside? Do you drizzle it with gravy? Just for one day?
Do you ALWAYS ask, “Did you make that with meat?” Do you go home after a big family dinner and chow down on a salad?
Does being a vegetarian mean that your friends change too? Do you stop hanging around the carnivores because dinners are awkward? You’re always asking how something was cooked and they’re always rolling their eyes to the ceiling and reciting a list. Never mind the crossed fingers behind their back, and the tiny white lie they might tell, just because they want you to sit down and eat.
I have to admit that this Thanksgiving we went uhm… “whole hog.” I looked at the Tofurky and meat alternatives but they just didn’t seem appealing. Then I thought about a Thanksgiving dinner with the “sides” and while that seemed easier. I just caved.
I think what keeps me from crossing over, from “drinking the vegetarian Kool-aid” is that I don’t know what to do with holidays and traditions that include meat, especially around the holidays.
That’s called being a “flexitarian” right?
Oh yeah, Little Peta, my daughter is protesting, and has been since I brought the turkey into the house.
- Serena
“Precious”
This weekend I saw the movie “Precious.”
Precious is what the survivors of sexual abuse are. Precious are the ones who are filled with shame, who blame themselves, who get lost in the cracks of system. Precious are those who are found too late. Precious are those that are never found at all. Precious are the ones who smoke and drink to cope. Precious are the ones who cut themselves to release the pain. Precious are those who become to shy to speak, wet their bed, or stutter. Precious are those that strike out to prevent someone from ever getting too close, ever again. Precious are the ones who over and under eat. Precious are those who confuse sex for love.
Precious are those who have clung to sanity, who have managed to move forward and upward or have had the strength to just stand still. At least they are standing. Precious are the ones who have not abused their own children. Precious are the ones who have not abused themselves. Precious are those who confront those that abuse them. Precious are those that support them to do so. Precious are those that re-claim their innocence and dignity.
Precious are those that walk this journey.
- Aunt B
Eating disorder: my struggle to stay alive
Every Tuesday Mama shares a personal story.
This week’s story was written by Kristen
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My name is Kristen, I am 15 years old. If someone were to describe me they would probably say something like she’s nice, funny, and crazy. But people who know me better would not go with those words at all. Maybe that’s what I was two years ago, but now I’m far from those things.
I am suffering with an eating disorder. Over these two years that I have been struggling with this, they have been the most depressing, terrible years of my life. The problems started when I was in the 8th grade, that’s when I started puberty. I would notice things about myself and other girls that normally, I would have never paid attention to.
I was comparing myself to other girls and wishing that I could have what they had. But in 8th grade, I was so thin. I started to question that. I became obsessed with watching what girls around me would eat. I would go online and look up pictures of girls who were thin. I would hang out with my best friend and just admire the great things about her that she had that I didn’t. I would watch her eat, notice how much she would take-in and I would try to control what I ate but I would always out-eat her. But, what I couldn’t see, was that I just had a larger appetite.
As time went on, I would routinely be checking my calories. I didn’t even understand what was too much and what was good for me. I became obsessed with looking at myself in the mirror and criticizing myself and tearing myself apart. I began dieting, taking diet pills. Checking my weight many times a day. When I couldn’t lose the weight I started to become really down on myself thinking I couldn’t do anything right. I would hate myself for not being able to lose weight.
That’s when I started making myself throw up, not too much, but at least once a day. I didn’t lose weight, but it gave me a little bit of relief. At some point between the 8th and 9th grade, friends would tell me I was looking really thin. But, that was because I was thin to begin with and loosing three pounds was noticeable.
Towards the end of 9th grade, my best friend and I would start fighting a lot because she hated my boyfriend. I loved him, but this caused a lot of problems with me and her. This put so much stress on my shoulders and I stopped eating. Before summer me and my boyfriend went on a “break” and things were a little better, but things with my best friend were still not the same.
She went away in the summer to go to her beach house. I was alone at home and I started hanging out with different people, because I didn’t really have anyone to hang out with.
One day I was hanging out with one of my old friends, and she looked really thin, she told me that she was taking some new diet pills that had made her lose a lot of weight. I asked her what they were, she told me, and I went out and got them. They worked like magic. I swear I lost a pound every day. I was never hungry. It surprised me so much, because never have I ever been able to restrict food so much.
I went days without food and I felt amazing. I saw the change in my body and I loved it. I lost eight pounds and I thought it was pretty noticeable, but what really bothered me was that my mom didn’t say anything to me. She didn’t care, and she didn’t worry. That’s what I was working on, and I don’t know why, making my mom worry. For some reason I wanted her too. And when she did we began to clash. My mom was so worried, and so were all my friends and family members. I hated it, everyone would try and make me eat and I just wanted everyone to leave me alone. No one could control me, I didn’t eat and everyone knew I wouldn’t.
After about a week of my mom nagging me about eating, my family went on a vacation to New Jersey for a week. It was with my cousins, my family, and family friends. I was so excited, I thought it would be fun. It was a disaster. No one could be around me Everyone was mad at me. People were worried, and crying, hating me, and criticizing me. While in New Jersey, I fainted almost three times. I couldn’t move without everything in my vision going black. My body felt like it was heavy and dying.
When I came back from New Jersey, I immediately went to my best friend’s house, who was now home. One look at me and her eyes filled up with tears, she looked at me with surprise and fright. We sat on her couch and just talked and cried. She could feel my pain, and I could tell. But being with her made me feel comfortable.
We all decided to go out for dinner (me, her, her mom, and her sister) we got there and as I was about to order, I started crying. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t eat. I hadn’t noticed that I had got to the point that I was afraid to eat. I could not force myself to eat anything. I was scared, and I knew that I was in serious trouble.
I slept at her house that night and the next day my mom came over and told me she wanted to take me to the hospital. I laughed in her face and said no way. But, I went because everyone was insisting that I go. On the way there, I knew that this wasn’t going to be good. I knew even thought I denied it, I was not okay. We got to the hospital and they admitted me into the ER.
I had lost over twenty pounds and was less then 80 percent of my recommended body weight. I was 5′5 and I weighed 97 pounds. The doctors told me I almost died, that my pulse was so low that if I hadn’t come to the hospital that day I would have had heart failure.
I was on feeding tubes for three days untill I was moved to the rehab in the hospital. There I stayed for three weeks and I gained 6 pounds. I had to leave because my parents insurance wouldn’t pay for it anymore. I went home and the first meal I had in front of me I cried. I cried and cried for the next month.
School came and I thought people were going to think I was fat, but they didn’t. It’s been a month and a half since summer and I weight 103 pounds.
I go to therapy twice a week and to a nurse practitioner where they weigh me and check my heart and everything else. My eating disorder has almost destroyed me; it has almost killed me and I have lost almost all my friends. It is a battle everyday, but I still fight.
Thanksgiving: A season of sharing or spending
This year, I’ve decided to have an organic Thanksgiving dinner. I made my list, checked it twice and went to Whole Foods to buy my bounty.
My first stop was the produce department. I stocked up on fruits, veggies, and nuts. I was pleasantly surprised at the hustle and bustle in the store. There were carts everywhere, people bumping into each, and a few grumpy customers. Next stop, I went to the fresh juice bar. It has been a few days since I consumed my last glass of 32 ounces of Carrot, Apple, Beet juice and my body is in serious withdrawal. Just for kicks, I ordered a quart of fresh orange juice too. After the juice bar, I made my way upstairs to buy the turkey and eggs. I proudly go to the butcher counter and ask if they have any organic turkeys that weigh about 22 pounds. (I’m cooking dinner for 10 people and we are BIG eaters). The butcher went to the ‘back’ to see what size turkeys they had. He came back with a turkey that weighed 22.6 pounds. PERFECT. He placed the turkey on the scale and pushed a few buttons. A few moments later, the magic number appeared. 82 dollars!! My heart skipped a beat and my stomach dropped. I felt like I was on one of roller coaster rides at Magic Mountain. In order to buy this turkey, I’m going to have to make some serious changes for the month of November…turkey sandwiches for a week? Peanut butter sandwiches the week after Thanksgiving?
Did I really want to buy the $82 turkey? Yes. I’m sticking to my guns. It is important to continue to buy organic food and support the cause of sustainable eating.
- Mama
