I believe...

I believe it is a big mistake to think:

I am a person and I cannot do very much to make a difference, therefore people cannot do very much to make a difference

People are what makes a difference. The behaviour of people is causing damage to our environment, so changing the behaviour of people is the only thing that can reverse it.

It is a mistake to think

I am small and powerless but governments are big and powerful, so the government should do something about this, not me

Think about the word "government". Govern - ment. What governments do is govern people. All governments can do is pass laws telling people how to act. But you don't have to wait until they pass a law telling you to live more responsibly. You can start living more responsibly right now.

It is a mistake to think

My household only releases a small amount of carbon, a small amount of pollution, uses a small amount of resources, but businesses release much more. So businesses should do something about this, not me.

Businesses make things, do things or sell things that people buy. If people don't buy them then the businesses stop making them. They have to - they have no money to continue. So what businesses do, at the end of the day, is down to consumer. In other words, people. In other words, you.

I'm not just saying "Change your lightbulbs to low-energy ones and everything will be OK". It's going to take more than that. Lightbulbs are just a painless first step to get the people who currently do nothing "green" to get themselves started. It's a bit like health advice to park your car further away from the supermarket and take the stairs more often. On its own it won't get you fit, but if you tell someone who is 100lbs overweight to get training for a marathon they'll just give up in despair. So we say "Start here - this change is easy", and then we encourage people to do a little more and a little more.

It's a good message. It means you can stop wringing your hands and waiting for everyone else to do something. You can start doing it yourself right now. What are you going to do?

Tragedy of the Commons

Imagine you're a medieval villager. You have access to a common - a fertile pasture that is owned by all the villagers together. The common can support 100 sheep - any more and the pasture would turn into a muddy wasteland. So the 20 households in the village each graze 5 sheep on the common, including yours.

One day you have a brilliant idea. If you got another sheep, that would only add 1% more burden on the common. That's not enough to turn it into muddy wasteland, surely? But you would get a benefit of 20% more sheep for your household. That's a big benefit for such a tiny disadvantage to the common. You can't resist it, and the next day you buy another sheep.

But what happens when your neighbours notice? They want an extra sheep, too. They also do the maths and realise they can have a huge extra benefit to their household whilst only placing a small burden on the common. Soon everyone has 6 sheep each, and now the common is supporting 120 sheep rather than the 100 it can sustainably manage. In fact some people think they could probably keep 7 sheep on the common, and maybe even a cow.

Within a year all the grass on the common is grazed away. The feet of the sheep (and the cows and, for some reason, a kangaroo) poach the earth, churning it up and preventing the grass from re-growing. When the rain falls the common becomes a mudbath. When the sun shines the mud turns to dust. When the wind blows the dust blows away. Where once there was a fertile pasture capable of supporting 100 sheep and 20 families, now there is a barren dustbowl.

This little parable is often used to explain why nobody takes care of things that nobody owns. Our atmosphere, our seas, our fish stocks, old growth forest, the climate - each of us can get a big benefit whilst causing only a small amount of additional burden on these things, these commons. But 6.6 billion people on the Earth are placing too much burden on them, and if we don't stop we could end up with a dustbowl planet, incapable of supporting human life.

Economists argue about the solution to the tragedy of the commons. Some claim that everything should be owned privately - if the common in the parable was owned by a landowner who leased it to the villagers then they would not be able to overgraze it. But how can anyone own the atmosphere or the climate? Other people want governments to restrict people from over-exploiting the commons by enacting laws against pollution, overfishing and so on. My preferred solution is for individuals to take personal responsibility and control their own behaviour for the common good, for example by cutting their carbon footprint, buying local food even if it is more expensive, and avoiding over-consumption in general. But I always was hopelessly idealistic.

Butterflies

Butterflies
By Patricia Grace

The Grandmother plaited her granddaughter's hair and then she said, "Get your lunch. Put it in your bag. Get your apple. You come straight back after school, straight home here. Listen to the teacher," she said. "Do what she say."

Her grandfather was out on the step. He walked down the path with her and out onto the footpath. He said to a neighbor, "Our granddaughter goes to school. She lives with us now."
"She's fine," the neighbor said. "She's terrific with her two plaits in her hair."
"And clever," the grandfather said. "Writes every day in her book."
"She's fine," the neighbor said.

The grandfather waited with his granddaughter by the crossing and then he said, "Go to school. Listen to the teacher. Do what she say."

When the granddaughter came home from school her grandfather was hoeing around the cabbages. Her grandmother was picking beans. They stopped their work.
"You bring your book home?" the grandmother asked.
"Yes."
"You write your story?"
"Yes."
"What's your story?"
"About the butterflies."
"Get your book then. Read your story."
The granddaughter took her book from her schoolbag and opened it.
"I killed all the butterflies," she read. "This is me and this is all the butterflies."
"And your teacher like your story, did she?"
"I don't know."
"What your teacher say?"
"She said butterflies are beautiful creatures. They hatch out and fly in the sun. The butterflies visit all the pretty flowers, she said. They lay their eggs and then they die. You don't kill butterflies, that's what she said."
The grandmother and the grandfather were quiet for a long time, and their granddaughter, holding the book, stood quite still in the warm garden.

"Because you see," the grandfather said, "your teacher, she buy all her cabbages from the supermarket and that's why."



Patricia Grace is a Maori writer of novels, short stories and children's books.

The image is from Repeating Patterns of Mimicry. Meyer A, PLoS Biology, Vol. 4/10/2006, e341 http://dx.doi.org/10.1371/journal.pbio.0040341 and is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 License. In short: you are free to distribute and modify the file as long as you attribute its author(s) or licensor(s).

A Spring Clean for the May Queen

It's May 1st - May Day, Beltane, Walpurgis Night, whatever turns you on. Like a clock that chimes the hours to remind us of the turning day, these festivals remind us of the turning year. In the case of May Day, spring is passing into summer and the festivals at this time of year emphasise flowers, dancing and fertility in its earthiest sense. The Maypole, the May queen, 'Obby 'Oss, the Furry Dance and the other components of May Day celebrations all tend to be about fertility.

It's hardly surprising. Everywhere I look I can see animals trying to attract mates. The blue tit who is working his little rocks off furnishing the bird box in my back yard is doing that because he hopes to attract a mate. Dad reports the swallows are flying acrobatically in a very different way than when they are hoovering up as many insects as possible - they are showing off their flying prowess in fierce competition for mates. And in the field behind my house, the cows have been joined by the bull. Poor bull spends most of his year all by himself, but this is the season when he gets to hang with the ladies and do what bulls like to do. The sap is rising and all creatures are trying to make babies, so they can feed the babies whilst food is plentiful through the summer, so that by the winter time the young ones are strong enough to survive the cold hungry time until next spring, when it all starts all over again.

Some people think that there's too much sex on TV, movies, magazines and so on nowadays. I disagree. I think the problem is that the media show a weird, distorted view of sex - it's all about impossibly perfect photoshopped young women's bodies being ogled by men. There is no recognition at all in the media of sex for old people, sex for fat people, sex for just ordinary normal people. You don't see women enjoying sex, you don't see sex in the context of a relationship (it's well known that married people don't have sex), and nothing about fertility or making babies. In fact we all seem to become terribly prudish whenever anyone refers to sex in those contexts. I'd like to see a return of a natural, lusty, earthy approach to sex, with an absence of embarrassment and hang-ups. Maybe I should erect an enormous Maypole in the middle of Poynton park. Would you join me?

Confession of an Eco-Sinner

In yesterday's post about decorating, Anonymous said...

Just one little thought - re going to B & Q to buy paint testers - and I mean this kindly......are B & Q now making paint testers of environmentally-friendly paint?

Not as far as I know, Anonymous. To be honest I didn't give it much thought. My sister turned up, said "While I'm here, let's paint the living room", so we headed to the nearest big paint retailer to see what they had. I've never looked into eco-paints in the past. I suspect they cost more and have a limited range of colours. But maybe I'm wrong. I promise I'll look into it soon, and the next time I'm forced to decorate a room I'll know more about the options.

But the question raised some thoughts in me, thoughts I've been having for a while now. I didn't start this blog to be an eco-prophet. I didn't want to bring light to the ignorant and share my vision of the one true way towards sustainable living. I don't know the one true way, and I don't think anyone else does either. I'm slightly alarmed at being declared one of the 50 most powerful bloggers in the world because really I'm just a short, plump thirty-mumble-year-old part-time Open University lecturer, sitting on my bed with my laptop on a Sunday afternoon and writing about the things I'm trying to do to become a bit more eco-friendly. I worry that some Bean Sprouts readers don't realise that. I think some people think I get paid to do this. I don't. I think some people think I'm a professional journalist. I'm not. I think some people think I have qualifications and professional experience in environmental topics. Actually I just read a lot, and I am qualified in critical analysis - in separating good research from bad - so that helps. I try to live ethically as much as I can. But I'm not perfect and never will be. If you spotted in one of my photos that I was wearing a new pair of trousers, would you quiz me "Are those eco-trousers? Or are they just from M&S?"

I worry about things like Girl with a One-Track Mind, a woman who blogged anonymously about her sex life. When a national newspaper revealed her identity she lost her job, fell out with her family, and suffered all sorts of repercussions. If Bean Sprouts becomes popular enough, will journalists come and rummage through my black bin and write news stories because they found paper that could have been recycled but wasn't, packaging from ready meals, and McDonalds toys? They probably could find those things. Would that reveal me as a hypocrite?

I hope not, because there would be no way to totally avoid such accusations without living in a cave. And the one big important point I want to make in everything I write here is that you don't have to live in a cave. You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to do everything. But please do something. Don't think "It's too hard to be an eco-saint so I won't even bother trying". Instead think "I don't want to go totally vegan but I could eat a meatless meal once a week. I can't afford to super-insulate my house and install a ground heat pump, but I could stick my head in the loft and just see how much insulation I've got. I can't give up battery-powered gadgets altogether, but I can get a battery recharger. I can't do everything, but I can do something."

I'm on a journey to learn more and put what I learn into practice. I'm not perfect at present. I never will be. But I want to share my journey with you. Does that sound like a cop-out because I bought non-eco-paint? Are you disappointed in me? Please let me know what you think.

Buddha of the Onions

On one of the allotment plots I found this Buddha head, nestling among a row of onions. The plot belongs to a white-haired cloth-capped Mancunian gent, who I would not have suspected of being a closet Buddhist. When I asked him about it he told me "it just turned up one day", and he rather liked it, so he set it among his onions.

I know little about Buddhism, but I thought that onions, garlic and other alliums such as chives and leeks were forbidden foods for Buddhists. But I've been searching the web and it seems that only some branches of Buddhism observe this rule.

I rather like the Buddha of the onions, and I hope he feels at home here. During my web research I came across the same story many times; how as a young boy watching his father plough a field, Buddha had fallen naturally into a state of blissful meditation. Perhaps he can meditate on we allotment holders digging our plots, too.

Authentic Entertainment

All this week I'm quilting and singing. At the rehearsal for Elijah last night it occurred to me that I enjoy the rehearsal process as much as I enjoy the actual performances. From the point of view of the audience, the performance seems to be the important thing. But if there was some way I could wave a magic wand and give a good performance without all the trouble of rehearsals, I'd hate that because often the performance passes in a flash, but the rehearsals can be a blast. Well, sometimes. Sometimes they're dull and repetitive, or really hard and tiring. But on the whole it's a thrill to get together with a hundred or so other people and create something out of nothing, polish it until it is as good as it can be, and then show it to an appreciative audience. So, much like my quilting and other crafting, I do it because I get a buzz from the process, not just as a means to an end. There are much quicker and cheaper ways to obtain bedcoverings than quilting them yourself. But they're not nearly as much fun.

Another reason I love choral singing and crafting is that the end result is unique, a consequence of the particular ingredients (e.g. the individual singers and conductor, or the particular pieces of fabric you had). To me that makes it much more precious and worthwhile than a mass-produced item. I had much more fun at the Manchester Lesbian and Gay Chorus concert I attended the other week than I have ever had at any Hollywood movie I've ever seen. Somehow the Hollywood movies have a slick, corporate feel. Even though movies cost millions of dollars to make, and I'm sure all the actors, writers, cameramen and everybody else gave it their all, yet they feel cheap and disposable to me. TV shows are usually even worse. But when I go to the theatre to see a play, or to a concert, I get a sense that I'm seeing something unique, something with an authenticity that Hollywood movies and TV shows entirely lack. My brain is engaged, not dulled, and the performers are communicating with me personally. If I nod off, or clap half-heartedly, or start doing the crossword, the performers will detect my indifference and it will put them off. But my involvement and appreciation will energise the performers to give their best performance.

When was the last time you went to the theatre or to a concert? Or to a comedy club or a folk club? How about enjoying some authentic entertainment for a change?

I Believe...

I believe that a lot of people don't understand what
"sustainability" means. So I'll try to explain it with a parable:

A foolish builder wanted to build himself a house that would be grander and taller than all the other houses in his neighbourhood. He built it as tall as he could until he ran out of bricks. But still the house was not tall enough to satisfy the builder. So he took a chisel and carefully chipped away the cement around one of the bricks at the bottom of his house. When it came loose, he cemented it in place on the top. The house was a little taller. It didn't fall down. It didn't even wobble. And there were plenty more bricks at the bottom. "Oh good," thought the builder, "I can keep taking bricks from the bottom and adding them to the top". And so he began chipping away at the cement around another brick...

I don't think I need to tell you how the story ends. You can figure it out for yourself. The foolish builder's solution to unlimited growth was unsustainable. This is what we mean when we say that a system of farming is unsustainable, or a method of harvesting water, or a means of getting energy. It means you can't sustain it. It doesn't mean "not nice", or "not ideal", or "not eco-friendly in some vague way, probably having to do with pandas". It means "if you keep on doing it your house will collapse in a pile of rubble and kill anyone inside".

Sustainability isn't about whether or not I approve of something. It's about the laws of physics. And as Scotty from Star Trek used to say, "Ye cannae change the laws of physics".

Piecing Together the Scraps

I have a book called Zen and the Art of Quilting. Someone bought it for me as a joke, but it's true that when you're creating a quilt something funny happens to your brain and you enter a trace-like state in which deep and philosophical ideas come to you.

I was thinking about this scrap quilt I'm making. The components are scraps (hence the name). Tiny pieces of fabric, some only an inch square, left over from other projects. These were the pieces that weren't wanted. The bits left over. And I'm taking them and turning them into a new quilt. I'm making something beautiful and functional and meaningful (I intend to give the quilt as a gift when it's finished) out of rubbish that should have gone in the bin.

It's frugal. It's recycling. It's good for the planet. But that's not what struck me.

What struck me was the idea that this rubbish has become elevated into something very precious indeed. I identified with these little odd-shaped pieces of fabric. I wondered if they felt happy to have been saved from the rubbish bin. If they felt proud to become part of a beautiful gift, something that will (I hope) be cherished and used for many years. Were they sad when they were rejected from the other quilts, when neigbouring bits of fabric were used but they were tossed on the floor? Do they feel grateful to have been redeemed?

See what I mean about "something funny happens to your brain when you're sewing"?

When I identified with the scraps in this way, I mused about my own life. About the times when I felt like a failure, when I felt rejected. But after these experiences came other times when I succeeded and was honoured. And I thought about the passage in the Bible that says "The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone". Maybe there's no such thing as a failure, and there's always another chance to be a success. Maybe there's no such thing as a scrap, only fabric for another quilt. Maybe there's no such thing as rubbish, only material for a different use.

Scrap Quilt

My scrap quilt is coming along nicely. It's not a quick project. Quick quilts inevitably mean large blocks and minimal sewing. Sewing lots of teeny tiny pieces inevitably takes a lot of time. It's a common trade-off. Usually being frugal takes more time. It takes longer to microwave a ready meal than to cook a meal from scratch.
Updated at 19:23 - of course I meant it takes longer to cook a meal from scratch than to microwave a ready meal. Doh!
But the home-cooked meal is cheaper, tastes better, is healthier and has less impact on the environment. Sometimes though time is at a premium (when you're busy making a patchwork quilt, for example), and ready meals become an attractive option. Ed made Hollands pies and oven chips for dinner the other night, so I didn't have to stop sewing to make something proper, and I was extremely grateful.

I Believe...

I believe our leaders have become too short-sighted. Everywhere I look I see us creating problems for generations to come.

We are using up all the fossil fuel, so there will be none left for our children. And by burning the fossil fuel we are increasing atmospheric CO2 levels which will cause severe climate problems in our children's generation.

One proposed solution to this is to build nuclear power stations, which generate electricity with lower CO2 emissions. But there is still no good solution to the storage of nuclear waste containing isotopes with half-lives of hundreds of thousands of years. And there are serious questions about the security of transporting and storing both waste and fuel rods now that international terrorism has become a fact of life.

The fuel companies have been pushing biofuels as a "green" alternative to fossil fuels. But from the beginning the green movement has been saying biofuels can never replace fossil fuels. For a start, even if we used every productive acre of arable land on Earth we could not grow enough biofuel to replace the fossil fuel we use at present. And anyway, if we used every productive acre of arable land on Earth, where would we get our food from? Most biofuel produced presently comes from palm oil, which is a whole bad kettle of fish.

Short-sightedness isn't just evident in our energy policies. Conventional farming methods which rely on over-use of pesticides and herbicides are killing our native plants and animals. Other conventional farming techniques such as over-ploughing and monoculture (producing the same crop year after year for mile after mile) cause unsustainable soil erosion. Conventional farmers compensate for this by adding artificial fertilisers. But when the soil is eroded completely our children or grandchildren will not be able to produce food by adding fertiliser to bare rock or sand.

Everywhere I look I see evidence of short-term thinking. The list would become too long and too political if I let all the bees out of my bonnet. The way we run our industries. The way we house our population. The way we fund our health service. The way we treat our children. The way we manage foreign affairs. They are all based on putting off problems until the future. Our children will have reason to damn us for the legacy we are leaving them. It makes me ashamed.

The Iroquois chiefs were required to make every decision by considering the effects on the seventh generation to come. I believe we urgently need to adopt this way of thinking. Urgently.

More

Apparently it's been available on YouTube for about a year, and was made ten years ago, but I've only just stumbled across this amazing animated short film by Mark Osborne. It's beautiful, with an atmospheric soundtrack, and it's only 6 minutes long:

The Academy-Award®nominated animated short-film tells the story of a lonely inventor, whose colorless existence is brightened only by dreams of the carefree bliss of his youth.By day, he is trapped in a dehumanizing job in a joyless world. But by night, he tinkers away on a visionary invention, desperate to translate his inspiration into something meaningful.When his invention is complete, it will change the way people see the world. But he will find that success comes at a high price, as it changes himself, as well.

To me it says that there will never be a gadget that finally makes us happy, there is no gizmo waiting to be invented that will make our lives seem OK. The pursuit of technological answers to a humdrum stress-filled life is in fact what is making our lives stress-filled and humdrum. The real way to be happy is something you can't buy - after all, children know how even though they have no money, and even though they live in the same grey built environment we do.

But I suspect different people will read different messages in it, and that's what makes it such a powerful film. What does it mean to you?

Flogging A Dead Horse

In days of yore, sailors were paid in advance for their first month at sea. Most of them had usually spent all of it (or rather, drunk all of it) before they came aboard. So for their first month they were working to earn money they had already spent, and thus were not terribly motivated. Trying to get them to do anything was like flogging a dead horse, i.e. pointless. At the end of the month the sailors would make an effigy of a dead horse, beat it, then dump it overboard. This is (one version of) the origin of the phrase "flogging a dead horse".

Earlier this month I challenged you to calculate your hourly take-home pay. If you know this number, you can convert any purchase into "work-hours". So you can see that the beautiful wool coat you really want costs 30 work-hours, or the lunch at Starbucks that takes twenty minutes to eat will cost you a whole hour at work.

But what if your money is spent before you even earn it? Do your mortgage repayments, loans and credit card repayments eat up your entire paycheck? Maybe this isn't a year-round situation, but you over-extend yourself every Christmas, planning to pay it back in January. Then like the seamen, you spend the first month of every year flogging a dead horse.

It's none of my business. Maybe you like it that way. If you have thought about it and decided that a few days of mid-winter revelry are worth a January of belt-tightening, then that's your informed decision, and that's fine. But perhaps a few people reading this are thinking "No, I don't really enjoy it that much. It's just stressful and expensive. But I feel obliged."

I've sat staring at this post for a long time. I've deleted big parts of it, and then retyped some of it over again. I'm worried it sounds preachy. But honestly, I don't want to tell people how to spend their money. My main point is that no-one should tell you how to spend your money. But that's exactly what adverts do - and lots of people fall into the trap. It's not because they're stupid, it's because the ads are clever. They use sophisticated psychological techniques to make you feel that you won't be happy unless you buy their products. You won't be popular. You won't be attractive. You won't be a good parent. That's strong stuff. And they've bombarded you since your earliest years. They bombard you from all directions. And they bombard your family and friends so that if you try to break free, the people you love will accuse you of those same things they've seen in the ads. It's no joke. It's social engineering on a scale Chairman Mao could only dream of. And it works.

The point I'm trying to make is that you should decide for yourself what Christmas means to you, and you should decide for yourself how you spend your money. You can have a happy and stressless Christmas without spending lots of money. I swear it's true. Wake up. Think on. Opt out.

Ethical Frugality

I believe in living frugally. But I have some ethical principles I won't bend to save money. I wouldn't steal from a shop to get goods for free. That goes without saying. But some cheap goods are only cheap because the producer has been robbed by the retailer. That's why I insist on Fair Trade products such as coffee and chocolate. I refuse to save my family money by robbing the families of coffee growers who have less than we do. And I won't get my milk from the supermarket even though it is much cheaper than getting it from my milkman. The supermarkets rob the dairy farmers by paying them less than the cost of production, and a dairy farmer goes out of business every week because of it. I want my family to save money, but I won't do it by benefiting from the suffering of others.

Cartoon from Climate Cartoons. Click to enlarge.

Fulfillment Curve

On Buy Nothing Day, I'd like to tell you about the fulfillment curve, or why money doesn't buy happiness.

The curve shows how much fulfillment you get for the money you spend. According to Joe Dominguez, the originator of this idea, when you're just starting out you spend money on things you need. For example, if you lack the basic necessities of life, then every few pennies you spend on food, warmth, shelter, gives you maximum fulfillment. How refreshing is a glass of iced water when you're truly parched?

But once all your basic needs are met, it requires more and more extra money to get just a little bit of extra fulfillment. In The Tightwad Gazette, Amy Dacyczyn gives as an example:

...the fulfillment received from the first $200 car as a teenager versus the $20,000 car bought 10 years later. The new car was nice ... but not 100 times as nice.

What's the message? The adverts lie (well, duh!). You can't buy happiness. Unless you're buying food when you're starving or shelter when you're cold, the things you buy are never quite as satisfying as you hoped they'd be. You know it's true. So save your money for when you really need it, and seek fulfillment in ways that money can't buy.

Dilemma!

I have a terrible ethical dilemma. Perhaps you can help me out.

Tomorrow (Saturday 24th November 2007) is Buy Nothing Day.

It's a day where you challenge yourself, your family and friends to switch off from shopping and tune into life. The rules are simple, for 24 hours you will detox from consumerism and live without shopping. Anyone can take part provided they spend a day without spending!

It's organised by the awesome culture-jamming organisation, Adbusters. You can send an e-postcard, download a computer desktop or a poster, join a BND Facebook group, participate in an event near you, or do anything at all except shopping.

So where's the dilemma?

Well on that same day, and that day only, The Guardian newspaper is giving away a 100 page baking guide by bread guru Dan Lepard. To get the free guide you have to buy the newspaper.

Do you see my problem?

I've decided to be loyal to Buy Nothing Day, and not go out and buy The Guardian that day. But I'll ask in my local Freecycle group if anyone got the paper and didn't want the guide. I'll ask on Freeconomy as well. And I'm asking you chaps, is anyone prepared to post me an unwanted baking guide (I'll refund your postage, of course)? Don't go out and buy The Guardian just for me. That would defeat the point. But if you get it delivered anyway, and you didn't want the baking guide yourself, that would be great.

Have a happy Buy Nothing Day.

I Believe...

I believe there is food that makes you go "Hmmm" and food that makes you go "Wow!"

I believe you should have the "Wow!" food every day.

I believe the difference between "Wow!" food and "Hmm" food has nothing to do with rare ingredients, fancy cooking techniques or spending lots of time.

I believe it has to do with caring about the food, and respecting its integrity.

What on earth do I mean by "caring about the food, and respecting its integrity"?

I mean that home-made scrambled eggs on toast - made with home-made bread, or a really nice loaf from a good local baker, maybe soda bread or a sourdough loaf, and with home-grown eggs or really nice eggs from a small free-range flock - is more likely to make you go "Wow!" than a Marks and Spencer roast duck in burgundy sauce that you reheated out of a packet.

What do you think? Would you prefer the scrambled eggs on toast or the roast duck?

I'm Not Anti-Tesco

I'm not anti-Tesco. I don't like being anti-anything. I much prefer to be pro-something. I even shop at Tesco sometimes. That's OK. I never said they were evil. I don't think it's immoral to shop there.

I just prefer to shop locally instead. I like to support my local retailers. I like to see a healthy and varied high street in my village. I think that, overall, small local retailers have a better record on the environment, on trading fairly with British farmers, on treating their staff fairly, on sourcing goods ethically. I think the traditional British high street is a good thing, and I don't want to lose it.

In any case, Tesco don't do anything much different to the other "big 4" supermarket chains - that's Asda, Morrisons and Sainsburys. I'm not a big fan of any of them, but I occasionally shop in them if I can't shop locally for some reason.

But if it's late at night and I suddenly realise that my son is invited to a birthday party in the morning, and I don't have a gift or a card for him to take, then I dash to the out-of-town supermarket and get these things, as I did last night. I'm grateful that it's there so I can do that. But I kick myself for not organising all this sooner, when I could have done it all locally. I don't see any point in cutting off my nose to spite my face - don't see the point in refusing to use the 24-hour supermarket when it's right there. That would be the ethical thing to do if supermarkets were evil. But they're not. I just prefer to shop locally when possible.

So I'm not anti-Tesco. I'm pro-local.

Blog Action Day

When TV shows and movies want to refer to the environment and climate change, they use big global images - icebergs calving, pandas in china, rainforests, satellite shots of hurricanes, floods in Bangladesh, drought in Africa, and so on. It's easy, then, to feel that the environment is somewhere else. And that saving the planet is such a big task it's going to take big power and big money to do it. It's easy to feel helpless and overwhelmed.

But that's exactly the wrong response, because it's exactly the wrong way to think about the environment. Look outside your window. What you see is the environment. If it's a street filled with cars, it's the environment. If it's a rain-filled sky, it's the environment. Look back inside, at the room you are in. That's the environment. The environment isn't hills with wind farms on them. It's where you live.

What did you see? Was it a pleasant environment or an unpleasant one? If unpleasant, how could it be made nicer? If some trees were planted in the street and if 80% of the cars vanished, replaced by a smaller number of buses, trams, maybe some bicycles, would that be a better environment? Does your room contain healthy plants, attractive pictures, are the objects in the room made of mostly natural materials or mostly man-made, is there plenty of natural light or is it gloomy, or lit by electric lights? What can you do to make your own immediate environment better?

I'd like people to open their eyes and look at the environment they live in. I'd like them to open their minds and realise the effect their own choices have on that environment, for good and for bad. And I'd like them to use their imagination and find ways to make the environment better for themselves and everyone else. I'd like them to stop sleepwalking through their lives, blind to the possibilities and the power they have. Wake up! Look around you. Do one thing today to make your environment better.

Today is Blog Action Day, an international initiative of bloggers, with the aim of uniting thousands of blogging voices, talking about one issue for one day - the environment. This was my contribution.

The Swallows Are Gone

The swallows are gone. So are the housemartins. I didn't notice exactly when it happened, but I was standing at the end of the garden yesterday, looking over the field behind the house, when it occurred to me I hadn't seen any for a while.

They'll be back next summer. In the meantime I shall look out for the winter visitors, the ducks, geese, swans and redwings, and huge noisy flocks of starlings. But it is a significant moment. The swallows are gone. Summer is gone, as much as we had a summer this year. Winter is on its way. I wonder what it will bring.