My Mom, the Original Recycler

First of all, HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY! I don't really have a big theme thing going on for my 4th of July entry. I just felt like writing today and it happens to be the 4th of July. So I guess I'm happy for the freedom to not write about the 4th of July. Okee dokee then.

What's on my mind today is the idea of "recycle, re-use". Everything's all about being green these days, and that's a good thing. Don't want to leave a great big old carbon footprint behind. I've got a pretty big foot and this idea of the carbon footprint freaks me out a little. There are reams of newspaper and magazine articles all extolling the virtues of going green. Hmmm. That's ironic, isn't it? Anyway, this is wonderful fodder for journalists, freelance writers, and editors of every ilk who desperately need to fill their publications or news casts with meaningful and relevant content. "Come on everyone, let's all think of some great ways to conserve our natural resources! Put on those thinking caps and fill those pages!"


Well, if they had known my mother, they'd have enough material for the next fiscal year. Before recycling was hip, or even thought of, my mother was way ahead of the curve. She was brilliant at conserving and re-using. Back then it was more a matter of "a penny saved is a penny earned", or as I used to like to call it, "being cheap". Of course I realize now that the "cheap" label was a cheap shot. My parents lived through the great Depression and never quite came out the other side, mentally. Besides, while not dirt poor, we weren't exactly rich either, and saving pennies here and there was not really a matter of choice. So my mother became quite expert at conserving, recycling, and re-using, having learned many of her skills from her own mother. Okay, here's a for instance; I learned at the age of two how to open a Christmas gift without making a single tiny tear in the wrapping paper. Every home movie of Christmas past has at least one shot of my mother sitting in a chair, carefully smoothing and re-folding the wrapping paper for use at a later date while we kids meticulously opened our gifts like we were defusing a bomb. The art of this careful gift opening was made easier by the fact that the attached bow was only loosely stuck on there with a small loop of scotch tape, since it too had been preserved from years past, possibly including the scotch tape and was not likely to do much damage to the aforementioned wrapping paper. I was 15 years old before I realized that bows were actually three dimensional, and not in fact supposed to be flat. (By the way, this careful unwrapping is a skill I have had to unlearn in my adulthood. It makes most people crazy when they watch you do it.)

Oh, and here's another thing. When I finally outgrew the lunchbox stage of my childhood and started brown-bagging it to school, that bag had to last a week or two. Or until my banana finally dropped out the bottom.

Then there were the note pads. This is the one I know she got from Grandma, because Grandma's house was full of these things. Okay, try to follow me now. In the old days greeting cards were large pieces of paper folded twice so that when you opened the card, it was double thick on both sides. If you own a computer and make your own greeting cards, you probably know what I'm talking about. Anyway, if you unfolded these greeting cards back into a large piece of paper, there would be all white space inside. You with me so far? Okay. Now all this pristine white space was naturally divided into four rectangles or squares because of the fold lines. So you took your big old shears (pinking shears if you wanted to be really artistic) and cut that paper into its four pieces. Voila. Four beautiful pieces of note paper. Now it gets better. Grandma used to dissect all her Christmas and birthday cards, then stack them into little piles, punch a hole in the top of each pile, and tie a ribbon through the hole to hold the pile together. (The ribbon was, of course, left over from what? That's right class, from a previously opened gift!) Nothing was wasted. My mother learned this craft from her mother and I myself would probably still be carrying on the tradition if modern greeting cards had not changed to their current configuation. Also because my husband would divorce me.

Well, I can tell that I could write a book about this. There's just so much more. I mean so far I've only touched on paper products. But that's enough for now. You know, what I thought was cheap and embarrassing back then is now the subject of high level discussions and suggestions for all of us. She would have liked that, being on the cutting edge, ahead of her time. Way to go Mom.