August 4, 2010--Midcoast: Green At Last
I was bringing Don up to date about our septic situation.
He knows entirely too much about our attempts to increase its capacity and how, when we had a problem a few weeks ago with a tank about to overflow, we discovered that what we thought was a septic system—with waste slowing percolating into a leech field--was in fact a containment tank which would routinely need to be pumped.
Now unhappily aware of this, we told him about the latest issue—since it is expensive and a bit inconvenient to have one’s system pumped out, we launched a crusade to use as little water and produce as little waste as possible.
While in Maine and with well water in short supply, we had already instituted a few practices to conserve water. Things such as turning the tap on and off when brushing our teeth, flushing the toilet only occasionally unless . . . You can complete that one yourself. Little things of this kind.
But now, faced with having to spend up to an unanticipated $250 a month on tank pumping, we turned our imaginations loose to think of other things we might do to save water and produce less waste. We have a double sink in the kitchen and rather, as in the past washing the dinner dishes with the hot water running continuously, Rona began soaking the dishes in soapy water in one of the sinks and then quickly rinsing them with cold water in the other, in the process saving hot water as well. I look forward to what our electric bill will look like next month. Not enough to cover the septic pumping but using much less hot water should make a dent in that too.
Don said we should save at least $25 a month by that alone. He should know. He’s lived in Maine all his life.
I told Don we were thinking about showering once a week, and he told us if we did that we’d have to find another companion for our morning coffee. Not wanting to do that we instead have taken to showering as often as in the past but in a very different way. As with the dishes, we both traditionally had showered with the water running constantly—while soaping ourselves and shampooing our hair. Now we turn on the water, wait for it to get hot, reduce its volume for the minimum required to get the job done, and rather than lingering enveloped in steam we turn the water on and off at different stages of the showering process.
Don said we’d save even more by using less hot water when bathing and that if we plugged the drain to see how much water we’d been previously consuming (he used that word) and compare that with how much less we are using in our version of a GI shower, we’d see how gentle we were being to our containment tank.
A few days ago I tired that and he was right. I estimate I used about half as much water as in the past. However, I must admit, though I feel economical and even a little virtuous showering this way, I do miss indulging myself in all that luxurious steam. Rona says maybe we should treat ourselves to an old-fashioned shower every once in awhile. If, if we continue to be responsible about water use in other ways. That sounds like something o look forward to.
And, Don added, not only are we being economical in our use of resources, but we’re being kinder to the environment. “Up here in Maine, a lot of us feel that’s very important. In fact, when you’re ready for it, we should talk about you guys getting a woodstove to heat your place. I know you aren’t winterized, and if you want to be this is the way to go”
“How is that environmentally sensitive?” Rona asked. “Don’t those potbellied stoves produce a lot of smoke, which is carbon isn’t it, and thus emit a lot of carbon dioxide?”
“The old ones do,” Don said, “but there are very high tech ones now that are so efficient that they produce less pollution than oil or propane or even electric heat.” I looked at him skeptically. “If that weren’t the case,” he said, “why would the government give you a tax credit for installing one?” He answered his own question, “That’s because they are more efficient and reduce your carbon foot print.”
Here we go, I thought, the next thing he’ll be talking about are the virtues of wood pellets as compared to logs.
“And,” he said, not missing a beat and as if reading my mind, “if you use wood pellets, you . . .”
I cut him off before he could continue. I want to try to do better but, to tell the truth, don’t always enjoy being drawn into talking about how to save the environment as sometimes happens up here. Especially when I haven’t put enough coffee into my system. “I bet,” I said to turn the conversation away from septic systems and carbon footprints, “I bet the next thing you’ll tell me is how to arrange to die and be buried in an ecologically responsible way.” I thought something this absurd about a green death would derail any more conversation about living a green life.
“It may surprise you,” he quickly said, “that I’ve been thinking about that very thing.” Again I looked at him skeptically. “In fact,” he grinned, “my wife and I just redid our wills and after doing some research decided we want to be go through the dying process and then our internment in as green a way as possible.”
I rolled my eyes up in my head, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I’m not. I’m being serious,” he insisted. “For example, how much plastic do they use in hospitals? A few years ago I had an operation and I was in the hospital for almost a week. Everything from medicine bags to catheters are made of plastic. Nothing was sterilized and reused. As soon as I was feeling better enough to notice I couldn’t help but think that there must be a better way to do this.”
“And?”
“And, in fact there are. Helen and I have been doing some research and there are a few hospitals here that make it their business to reduce the number of disposable things they use. We’ve even checked out a couple of assisted-living places, some nursing homes, and the hospice in town and they assured us that when the time comes and we need them they will do things in an environmentally sensitive way. They use less of that plastic crap and sterilize much of the stuff they use to take care of you.”
“And,” though duly impressed, I couldn’t help but ask, “You said ‘when the time comes.’” He nodded. “How about when the big Time comes, with a capital T?”
“You mean when we pass?” I nodded. “Well, we thought of that to. We considered cremation.” I asked the waitress to refill my cup. If the conversation was headed in this direction I needed more caffeination. “And rejected that. Not for environmental reasons, mind you, though from that perspective it’s a good way to dispose of bodies. You do release some carbon but since we’re mainly water, most of what gets emitted is steam. We’re more H2O than CO2.”
Steam was rising from my freshly filled cup and contemplating Don’s description I pushed it away from me.
“It has to do with the kids.”
“The who?”
“Our children. When we discussed this with them they said they’d like us to be buried in a cemetery so they can visit us. Scattering our ashes or keeping Helen and me in urns on a piano, they told us, isn’t going to work for them.”
“And?” Rona was getting into this while I, considerably older and thus closer to the reality of these matters, was focused on my coffee, where the steam was slowly abating.
“And so listen to this.” Don was fishing around in one of his overall pockets and from it pulled out what looked like a glossy brochure. “We’ve been looking around for the right kind of cemetery for us, and of the course the kids, and found one not too far from here. Listen to what they say.”
He read:
Don looked up and, smiling beatifically at Rona and me, asked, “So what do you think? Pretty good, no?”
“It’s beautiful,” Rona cooed, with tears in her eyes.
“And you, what do you think?”
“Me?” I asked. Before he got to the “Why Have A Green Burial” part my coffee had stopped steaming and I was fully engaged with it. “Did I hear that you can take your pets with you?” He resumed his nodding. “That I like. Being buried with your dog is a good thing. And, if I heard you correctly, you can have a biodegradable shroud?’
“Yes,” Don said.
“Or you can be wrapped in your favorite blanket?”
“That too. Maybe you and Rona . . .”
“I’m not ready for that,” I said. “Woodstoves, maybe. But not this.” Don was looking deflated and stuffed the brochure back into his pocket. I felt guilty about putting him off and wanted to buck him up with a little joke, “I mean I’m not ready for this because we don't have separate blankets--we sleep in a queen-size bed and I’m not sure if my blanket is biodegradable”
At that he smiled and it was his turn to change the subject. He of course is a Boston Red Sox fan and teased me, “Those Yankees of yours. What’s happening with them? They can’t seem to get anyone out or score any runs.”
“And your team? Where are they in the standings?”
“You know, hon,” Rona had tuned out the baseball talk, “I think maybe we do have those kinds of blankets.”
He knows entirely too much about our attempts to increase its capacity and how, when we had a problem a few weeks ago with a tank about to overflow, we discovered that what we thought was a septic system—with waste slowing percolating into a leech field--was in fact a containment tank which would routinely need to be pumped.
Now unhappily aware of this, we told him about the latest issue—since it is expensive and a bit inconvenient to have one’s system pumped out, we launched a crusade to use as little water and produce as little waste as possible.
While in Maine and with well water in short supply, we had already instituted a few practices to conserve water. Things such as turning the tap on and off when brushing our teeth, flushing the toilet only occasionally unless . . . You can complete that one yourself. Little things of this kind.
But now, faced with having to spend up to an unanticipated $250 a month on tank pumping, we turned our imaginations loose to think of other things we might do to save water and produce less waste. We have a double sink in the kitchen and rather, as in the past washing the dinner dishes with the hot water running continuously, Rona began soaking the dishes in soapy water in one of the sinks and then quickly rinsing them with cold water in the other, in the process saving hot water as well. I look forward to what our electric bill will look like next month. Not enough to cover the septic pumping but using much less hot water should make a dent in that too.
Don said we should save at least $25 a month by that alone. He should know. He’s lived in Maine all his life.
I told Don we were thinking about showering once a week, and he told us if we did that we’d have to find another companion for our morning coffee. Not wanting to do that we instead have taken to showering as often as in the past but in a very different way. As with the dishes, we both traditionally had showered with the water running constantly—while soaping ourselves and shampooing our hair. Now we turn on the water, wait for it to get hot, reduce its volume for the minimum required to get the job done, and rather than lingering enveloped in steam we turn the water on and off at different stages of the showering process.
Don said we’d save even more by using less hot water when bathing and that if we plugged the drain to see how much water we’d been previously consuming (he used that word) and compare that with how much less we are using in our version of a GI shower, we’d see how gentle we were being to our containment tank.
A few days ago I tired that and he was right. I estimate I used about half as much water as in the past. However, I must admit, though I feel economical and even a little virtuous showering this way, I do miss indulging myself in all that luxurious steam. Rona says maybe we should treat ourselves to an old-fashioned shower every once in awhile. If, if we continue to be responsible about water use in other ways. That sounds like something o look forward to.
And, Don added, not only are we being economical in our use of resources, but we’re being kinder to the environment. “Up here in Maine, a lot of us feel that’s very important. In fact, when you’re ready for it, we should talk about you guys getting a woodstove to heat your place. I know you aren’t winterized, and if you want to be this is the way to go”
“How is that environmentally sensitive?” Rona asked. “Don’t those potbellied stoves produce a lot of smoke, which is carbon isn’t it, and thus emit a lot of carbon dioxide?”
“The old ones do,” Don said, “but there are very high tech ones now that are so efficient that they produce less pollution than oil or propane or even electric heat.” I looked at him skeptically. “If that weren’t the case,” he said, “why would the government give you a tax credit for installing one?” He answered his own question, “That’s because they are more efficient and reduce your carbon foot print.”
Here we go, I thought, the next thing he’ll be talking about are the virtues of wood pellets as compared to logs.
“And,” he said, not missing a beat and as if reading my mind, “if you use wood pellets, you . . .”
I cut him off before he could continue. I want to try to do better but, to tell the truth, don’t always enjoy being drawn into talking about how to save the environment as sometimes happens up here. Especially when I haven’t put enough coffee into my system. “I bet,” I said to turn the conversation away from septic systems and carbon footprints, “I bet the next thing you’ll tell me is how to arrange to die and be buried in an ecologically responsible way.” I thought something this absurd about a green death would derail any more conversation about living a green life.
“It may surprise you,” he quickly said, “that I’ve been thinking about that very thing.” Again I looked at him skeptically. “In fact,” he grinned, “my wife and I just redid our wills and after doing some research decided we want to be go through the dying process and then our internment in as green a way as possible.”
I rolled my eyes up in my head, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I’m not. I’m being serious,” he insisted. “For example, how much plastic do they use in hospitals? A few years ago I had an operation and I was in the hospital for almost a week. Everything from medicine bags to catheters are made of plastic. Nothing was sterilized and reused. As soon as I was feeling better enough to notice I couldn’t help but think that there must be a better way to do this.”
“And?”
“And, in fact there are. Helen and I have been doing some research and there are a few hospitals here that make it their business to reduce the number of disposable things they use. We’ve even checked out a couple of assisted-living places, some nursing homes, and the hospice in town and they assured us that when the time comes and we need them they will do things in an environmentally sensitive way. They use less of that plastic crap and sterilize much of the stuff they use to take care of you.”
“And,” though duly impressed, I couldn’t help but ask, “You said ‘when the time comes.’” He nodded. “How about when the big Time comes, with a capital T?”
“You mean when we pass?” I nodded. “Well, we thought of that to. We considered cremation.” I asked the waitress to refill my cup. If the conversation was headed in this direction I needed more caffeination. “And rejected that. Not for environmental reasons, mind you, though from that perspective it’s a good way to dispose of bodies. You do release some carbon but since we’re mainly water, most of what gets emitted is steam. We’re more H2O than CO2.”
Steam was rising from my freshly filled cup and contemplating Don’s description I pushed it away from me.
“It has to do with the kids.”
“The who?”
“Our children. When we discussed this with them they said they’d like us to be buried in a cemetery so they can visit us. Scattering our ashes or keeping Helen and me in urns on a piano, they told us, isn’t going to work for them.”
“And?” Rona was getting into this while I, considerably older and thus closer to the reality of these matters, was focused on my coffee, where the steam was slowly abating.
“And so listen to this.” Don was fishing around in one of his overall pockets and from it pulled out what looked like a glossy brochure. “We’ve been looking around for the right kind of cemetery for us, and of the course the kids, and found one not too far from here. Listen to what they say.”
He read:
What Is a Green Burial?
Simple and natural. Green burial, or natural burial, ensure the burial site remains as natural as possible in all respects. Interment of the bodies is done in a bio-degradable casket, shroud, or a favorite blanket. No embalming fluid, no concrete vaults.
Why Have a Green Burial?
It is clear that nature has intended that our bodies be reunited with the earth. All organisms that have lived, have died and returned to the soil...only to be recycled into new life. Constant microbial activity in the soil breaks everything down. Nature creates no waste. Everything is recycled.
In keeping with your personal values, a natural burial site for you, family, even pets, promotes growth of native trees, shrubs and wildflowers, in turn bringing birds and other wildlife to the area. Water is not wasted, nor are pesticides and herbicides used in attempts to control nature. Instead, a green cemetery allows nature take it's course. Planting native trees, shrubs and flowers in your loved one's honor promotes habitat restoration. To encourage land preservation, a green cemetery grants a conservation easement for the burial site.
Don looked up and, smiling beatifically at Rona and me, asked, “So what do you think? Pretty good, no?”
“It’s beautiful,” Rona cooed, with tears in her eyes.
“And you, what do you think?”
“Me?” I asked. Before he got to the “Why Have A Green Burial” part my coffee had stopped steaming and I was fully engaged with it. “Did I hear that you can take your pets with you?” He resumed his nodding. “That I like. Being buried with your dog is a good thing. And, if I heard you correctly, you can have a biodegradable shroud?’
“Yes,” Don said.
“Or you can be wrapped in your favorite blanket?”
“That too. Maybe you and Rona . . .”
“I’m not ready for that,” I said. “Woodstoves, maybe. But not this.” Don was looking deflated and stuffed the brochure back into his pocket. I felt guilty about putting him off and wanted to buck him up with a little joke, “I mean I’m not ready for this because we don't have separate blankets--we sleep in a queen-size bed and I’m not sure if my blanket is biodegradable”
At that he smiled and it was his turn to change the subject. He of course is a Boston Red Sox fan and teased me, “Those Yankees of yours. What’s happening with them? They can’t seem to get anyone out or score any runs.”
“And your team? Where are they in the standings?”
“You know, hon,” Rona had tuned out the baseball talk, “I think maybe we do have those kinds of blankets.”
posted by Steven Zwerling at
6:07 AM
1 Comments:
Did you look into an Eternal Reef?
They are cremation memorials that help to preserve and protect the marine environment and they are the only memorial choice that encourages family and friends to participate with the creation of their loved ones memorial. Together with green burial we form the surf and turf of the natural burial movement.
www.eternalreefs.com
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