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Once again, my time and attention span have not kept up with my ambitions, so the massive, well-researched, extensively footnoted and linked essays I’d optimistically planned for this year’s Blog Action Day — on energy use by the building sector, or the ecological damage done by factory farming (and thus why going vegan, or at least leaning more in that direction, is a choice that’s healthier for the planet), or ways to drive more efficiently when you absolutely must take a car (hint: don’t drive like most Atlanta drivers) — are obviously not going to happen. Allergies, on the other hand, have happened, and the following is about the best you’re going to get out of me while my ears feel as if they’ve been crammed full of densely packed cotton fluff and my sinuses seem to have been attacked by droves of sandpaper-wielding, highly caffeinated homunculi. Thus, I’m plumping for a simple list, nothing too groundbreaking, with digressions and rants embedded therein. These are not all-encompassing, and I’m assuming you don’t have the dosh to replace your windows with double-glazing and all your old appliances with certified high-efficiency ones; basically, they’re mostly little habits you can adopt or adapt, with a cumulative effect.

1. If you’re not using it, turn it off. This goes for everything: lights, small appliances, tap water, car engines, etc. Possibly spouses and significant others, as well, but I can’t really speak to that.

   Last one out, please turn off the lights. This is obvious. Don’t make me campaign to get those 1970s energy-crunch commercials returned to TV. I have an in with Woodsy the Owl; I can make it happen, if I must.

   Unplug your coffee maker when the coffee’s done, and pour whatever you’re not drinking immediately into an insulated container (this also prevents that scorched-coffee taste; when you’ve just spent maybe a dollar an ounce [less than 30 g] on shade-grown, organic, free-trade coffee, you do not want its taste to be ruined by sitting on a hot burner for hours). Computer not being used? Flip off the master power-strip switch and unplug the sucker. If you’re using the computer but not your WiFi (e.g., watching videos, writing, gaming), power down the WiFi. And if you don’t have your VCR set to record, why is it still on standby and flashing "12:00" repeatedly at you?

   Simply turning off your car engine when idling for any appreciable length of time, even at stoplights — as endorsed by the Car Talk Guys — really does save fuel, and cuts down on emissions. I’ve been trying this all year (in addition to taking my car out of gear and coasting when conditions and traffic allow), and it’s made a marked difference: doing my normal almost-entirely-city-driving thing, during which I may occasionally glimpse a highway but rarely set tire on one, it’s garnered me an additional 20 to 30 miles (30 to 50 km) per tank. (In other words, it means I’m actually getting the EPA rated efficiency for my car, which I’ve never really managed before for any sustained length of time.) Twenty or thirty miles may not sound like much, but it’s a few days’ commute, and means that I have to fill my tank maybe nine times a year rather than ten. (Yes, I know I should be biking to work instead of driving. I’m just a bit hesitant [read: terrified] about trying to cross I-85 on a bike; once we return from our temp quarters to our permanent building, I really will try to commute by bike. Honestly. I mean it!)

   Georgia has been in a drought for . . . what, since 2001? And yet people at work still leave the faucets dripping, or let the water run full-force while they dry their hands and chat, or — most bizarre of all — indulge in repeated "courtesy flushing." You shouldn’t have to wait until things reach crisis levels before paying attention to your own actions, but evidently these people are waiting until the USGS drought map turns all bright red:

   

   Turn off the freakin’ water if you’re not actively using it. Run the dishwasher only when it’s as full as it possibly can be (and yes, dishwashers are supposed to be more efficient than hand washing [N.B.: abstract is in German; English title here is endearingly translated, though], but for the sake of water quality please use biodegradable detergents, such as those by Seventh Generation, and let the dishes air-dry instead of running a heated drying cycle).

2. Recycling is good, but reusing is even better. Obviously, creatively reusing something that’s already been made is even less resource-intensive than recycling is. When you can do so without feeling as if you’re living in a junk heap, reuse things at least a few times before recycling: screw-top glass bottles that used to contain iced teas can once again, and you can run them through your (fully packed) dishwasher to sanitize them. Peanut butter jars are great for making vinaigrettes in, because their lids generally fit tightly and you don’t wind up with dressing spattered across the kitchen, the dog, and the self. I’ve got several ancient coffee jars from the 1970s, which are perfect for holding 5 lb of flour. A 1.5 L orange-juice bottle is hardly decorative, but it turned out to be the perfect shape for watering my houseplants (using cooled, salvaged water from cooking, when available; it sounds bizarre, but my peace lilies and miscellaneous third-hand houseplants seem to thrive on potato water or pasta water).

   Reuse plastic bags from bread loaves, or from the produce section; next time you buy a rubber-banded bunch of broccoli, just set it gently in your basket or cart, stark naked. What’s it going to do, fall apart and rain broccoli bits in a gentle patter all over your pint of Soy Delicious? Horrors. (If you think ahead, you can bring the bags from home and sack up the broccoli on the spot with your reused bag, but I never am this organized.) If you’re concerned about insects or other small creatures of the crawly persuasion coming after any crumbs you might leave in the bags, you can always store them in the freezer (the bags, not the creatures).

   Recycle when you’re done with something, by all means! Just consider first whether you can use it again first, for something else.

3. Reducing consumption trumps reusing things. Do you really need a bag if you’re only buying one thing? You carried it up to the counter without aid of a basket or cart; is it really all that hard to transport it the rest of the way home using your own hands, or your bag, briefcase, backpack, or whatnot? If you’re buying two eggplants (aubergines), why do you need to group them together in your carrying bag? They won’t be lonely if you let them separate, really. If you’re buying flour, why not get it from the bulk bins (and then reuse the bag!) instead of buying it in the nonreusable bags on the shelf (and paying more for the privilege)? If you’re buying bread crumbs, why are you buying bread crumbs? Let the heels of sandwich bread go stale (or toast lightly, if it’s a bread crumb emergency), so they go "thunk" when you tap them, and then whir them in your blender or food processor, add any spices you want, and store in a reused peanut butter jar: no additional packaging to manufacture or recycle, no extra transport fuel expended, just a bit of electricity to whir the stale bread to bits. If you’ve got a mortar and pestle, you don’t even need the electricity.

   On a somewhat related note, downsize when you can. This doesn’t just apply to cars (hint: if your car is so big you cannot make a right turn without lane barging, it’s probably too big for you) and houses (smaller space = less space to condition, heat, or light), but also for cooking appliances. Microwaves are generally cited as the most efficient way to heat something, including water for making tea; for extended simmering, the slow cooker uses less electricity than the stovetop (and releases less additional heat to the surroundings, so creates less of a load on the air conditioner). (I’ve also heard good things about modern pressure cookers, but I’m still a bit nervous about the vent getting clogged and my dinner going all Breakfast-at-Tiffanys on me.) For all things oven-y, if you can fit it in a toaster oven, by all means, do: according to p. 25 of the U.S. Energy Efficiency and Renewable Energy Energy Savers PDF, "[a] toaster oven uses a third to half as much energy as a full-sized oven" when baking. That’s assuming you can trust what our government says; when it comes to toaster ovens, at least, I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. :-)

4. Google (or better yet, Blackle) is your friend. Not sure where the closest recycling drop-off is? Unclear on the differences between type 2 plastic and type 5? Wonder whether that "compostable" plastic can go in your compost pile? Need to know whether EnergyStar certifies high-efficiency electric can openers? Teh Intarwebs make it ridiculously easy to find these things out, so you won’t wind up like at least one of my neighbors and put absurd things (e.g., a soiled poncho, bags of used kitty litter) in your recycling bin.

   In addition, paying attention to the world around you also helps, so you don’t walk right by the big recycling bins, throw your Big Evil Soda Company bottle in the trash, and then nearly get throttled by your coworkers who simply cannot believe you’d be that oblivious. (Ahem. Not that anything like that has ever happened, I’m sure.)

5. Consider the effects of your actions. Little things add up pretty quickly. Ideal Bite’s weekday tips often come with a little "bang for bite" note, indicating how much oil, how many trees, how much CO2, etc., would be saved if x number of readers adopted that tip; Seventh Generation products always list how many resources would be saved if every family replaced, for instance, just one roll of toilet paper made from non-recycled pulp with one made from recycled materials. Little things like you, all by yourself, turning off the lights when you leave the room are not going to save the universe, end all poverty, and make you irresistible to the sex of your preference, but all the little actions and habits you reshape do add up over time — and they’re contagious. We’re creatures of habit and the pack, or possibly the flock (swarm? pod? gaggle?). Sometimes people mean well but it simply hasn’t occurred to them that they could do something more efficiently, or with less waste of resources, or in a way that would cause less suffering; sometimes all it takes is a little bit of modeling of different behavior, without — and this is the tricky bit for me — being snarky. I’ve had pretty good luck getting people at work to notice, and do something about, dripping bathroom faucets, simply by pointing out that the previous user left them dripping; I’ve had a lot less success getting people to turn off lights when I snarl at them, "What, were you raised in a barn?" Can’t imagine why that is. . . .

Again, none of this is groundbreaking and innovative, or even succinct. Crivens, I’ve got an old 1978* copy of Diet for a Small Planet that talked about why we should reduce packaging, and how. It’s just kind of sad that, almost 30 years later, we still haven’t gotten the hang of the idea.

*Sheesh, how often am I going to mention the 1970s in this post? Apparently I’m feeling nostalgic.