Tips from The Great Depression

My mother-in-law didn’t realize that she was a missionary for reuse. She simply carried on practices she’d started during the Depression. Some of her frugal habits struck me as a bit strange back when I was a newlywed, but now I find myself following her path, not only for frugality, but because it’s time for lifestyle adjustments. I often thank her in my thoughts. I thank her for not discarding the attitude she learned during the hard times. Here are a few observations I noted when I married her son.

• Before Select-a-Size paper towels came to the market, she tore a regular size paper towel in half and used one half at a time (Be on the lookout for how you might cut your consumption in half with any product. Manufacturers design ways to encourage excessive use of their products.)

• If a napkin were only slightly used, she would set it by her plate and use it again (Why not? It’s your business if you choose to use your napkin again. Fold it with the fresh side out.)

• Glass jars became containers for leftovers (Easy to see what’s inside and air tight)

• Tissue paper in gift boxes was folded and sometimes ironed for reuse (ironing really does make it almost new – though, this practice consumes energy)

Her creative thinking seemed over the top to me years ago when I met her, and so did her non-disruptive lifestyle. I once told my young husband, “Your mother lives like she doesn’t want to stir the air on the earth.” Now I view that characteristic as an amazing legacy.

She wasn’t an environmentalist so much as she was a person of common sense and conviction that waste is wrong and hard times may come again.

I wish she were still here to give me more tips on how I could use the very tough air-tight bags inside of cereal boxes.

In our newlywed days when we drove back to Florida State after a visit, she would use the bag from a cereal box as the wrapper for turkey sandwiches, line the bottom of a shoe box with a paper towel torn into 2 halves, place a little jelly jar of carrot sticks in water in the corner and tie the box shut with a ribbon saved from Christmas. The oatmeal cookies were stored in the round oatmeal box.

If you have a mentor from the Great Depression in your life, you’re blessed. We could use some more advice and inspiration.

Here's a link to one such memoir in Fortune Magazine.

Not the Last Straw

Today is my birthday and my husband invited me out for lunch. I picked P.F. Chang’s Chinese Bistro because it’s around the corner and on the route for errands we'd be running. Never having been there before, I had no particular expectations other than being pretty sure there would be rice, vegetables, and chopsticks.

The passion fruit tea smelled really good. I brought it up to my lips and whiffed it a couple of times, almost taking a swig . . . but . . . I just couldn’t do it.

“Do you have straws?” I implored of Jana, our waitress from Maine.

“We do,” she smiled, pausing a moment before explaining, “In order to reduce the amount of plastic in the waste stream we only supply straws when customers ask for them.”

Color my face Chinese red. Didn’t I myself write on July 3 that we should watch for plastic straws and sleeves blowing around on the beach? I did. So, I’m a straw poser in some ways. I like using a straw, sipping is slower, no gulping. But I do save, wash and reuse them. Straws made of biodegradable PLA are on the market, and paper straws still exist. My straw collection tells you where I've been doing my drinking.

Another thing - - although I’m a failure with chopsticks, I always try. The chopsticks at the restaurant were not wooden disposables; they were washable and reusable so I wasn't wasting.

I enjoyed my lunch. Whatever else goes on in the kitchen at the Chinese bistro in my neighborhood I don't know, but they do seem to be responsible with straws and chopsticks. Kudos. Plus, my lemon dessert was free on my birthday. I’ve learned so much this past year.