Viva La Eco-Cheapola!!

Survey the surfaces, countertops and shelves of my home and you'll see multiple indicators that I'm either a hard core greenie, pack rat extraordinaire or class-A cheapo. Depending on what type of glasses you're wearing at the time, you may either be impressed, moderately taken aback or absolutely horrified by what you see. The tip off? Permanently residing on my kitchen counters are soaped-up and rinsed off sheets of aluminum foil, worn out but still reusable zip top bags and stacks of scrap paper harvested from piles of magazines neatly bound with rubber bands...and that's just the tip of the conservational iceberg. My ecofrugalista status was born out of a modest upbringing thanks to parents who enjoyed copious amounts of granola in their cereal bowls, not because they were environmentalists in the truest sense of the word, but because the hearty grain and dried fruit combo was tasty, filling and they could purchase a No Frills version for about $1.00 per box. Polluted waterways and greenhouse gases must have completely circumvented their radars back in the day because if you asked them about the state of the world, they would have declared in contented unison that it was all good.

Any bystander who may have poked around in my parent's cupboards or taken inventory of the saved for a rainy day items that they amassed could have easily imagined that my parents were the type to eschew razors, embrace tofu and engage in midnight semi-pagan Gaia affirmation ceremonies....except that they'd be utterly and completely wrong. My mother and father's apparent earth-saving efforts emerged out of their deeply rooted sensibilities combined with budgetary necessity. They scrimped, saved and made the most of their available resources because it was what their parents taught them to do, and beyond that, it helped them to make ends meet. It just so happens that the happy by-product of their actions was an almost nonexistent carbon footprint that hung above the roof of our house like a wispy fair weather cloud.

In my mind's eye, this way of life was and has always been perfectly normal. In fact, it seems entirely abnormal to me to throw anything out unless it's completely contaminated with maggots, cat urine and/or red bag waste. I apparently adopted this penchant for practicality via osmosis, genetic predisposition or a little bit of both since, in all honesty,  I never set out to become a greenie. Someone coined the term a couple of years back and I had a eureka moment when I realized that I fit the description to a "T" without really even trying. Finally, I could consider myself cool -- ha ha! While I wear the label well, many years ago when I first set up my own home and began emulating the examples set for me by my parents, I never thought, "If I recycle things, I will save the world!" Instead, I was more likely thinking, "Why should I waste money buying another new _________ when I can just reuse this perfectly good old one?"

Whatever my motivations were at the time, I think it's quite possible that between the bag of slowly accumulating wine corks on my kitchen counter (that will someday be mailed to ReCork America), the infinite times that I washed my dishes (or teeth) using no running water, and the three sheets of crumpled up paper towels that have been air dried and reused approximately 285 times a piece (until they finally revert back to their former paper pulp status), I have prevented a minimum of 928 1/2 metric ounces of CO2 from being released into my immediate upper atmosphere. I've done other stuff, though...I've never been content resting on my green laurels! Part of my waste not, want not formula for success is trying to never buy or make more than I can eat or use in a timely manner, but on occasion it seems as though food is somehow oozing out of the woodwork. Even in those instances, you'll never see a veggie peel or other type of food scrap taking up residence in my coffee ground hodge podge collection container because chucking good or ever-so-slightly fugly food is against my religion. No, not the proper Sunday church kind of "organized religion" , but the personal philosophy that compells me to devoutly eat the same leftovers 5 days in a row, share them with my family/friends, or freeze any remaining stragglers.

We are so lucky to have clean running water, perfectly perforated squares of 100% recycled toilet paper, fresh fruit and vegetables in the dead of winter, and a source of heat that magically radiates into the four walls of our homes whenever our bones are chilly. How is it possible that we continually take such conveniences for granted? Everything that we could possibly need -- food, clothing, shelter, etc. -- is within our reach, and yet we mistakenly think that we need so much more. Why buy one car outright when we can lease 3 cars and a motorcycle instead? Gas -- who cares about the gas? I'm gonna grab it now while I can and worry about the consequences later. Thirteen ounce boxes of Cheerios are cute, but the ginormous 895 ounce versions from Costco are what my massive, perpetually starving family of 4 really needs! While we're at it, gimme a conveyor belt of new, improved cell phones, flat screen televisions, latest fashions and more-more-more things and stuff!! Personally, I think that being cheap, green, or somewhere inbetween leads to a common good -- demonstrating thoughtfulness regarding the resources that we're fortunate enough to have at our fingertips and doing everything within our power to make them last. It might require a bit more effort to resist the temptation of instant gratification, but with practice and a greener perspective, you'll ultimately find that there's really much to miss after all.