This is a photo of my little crumb container from the freezer. I put random pieces of bread in it, to whirl in the blender when I need bread crumbs. And I knock the crumbs off the cutting board after I cut bread and put those crumbs in there too.
I know it seems piddling and crazy. But that is because I think we have forgotten how our great grandparents did things. They reduced, reused, and recycled before those acts were named or celebrated.
Recently, Rebecca's mother told me how her grandmother kept a little tin of basting threads. Basting is like tape for a sewing project: holds it in place until you can put the real stitches in. So you rip out the basting threads after the real stitches are in. It used to be a common practice to save the basting threads and use them over and over. I pondered this for days, alternately inspired and incredulous.
That kind of saving and reusing used to be the standard; now it's odd.
The standard now is disposable everything. Disposable some-things are handy for traveling, yes - but I hate to see groups using paper plates, or worse, styrofoam, because no one wants to wash dishes. Or disposable diapers because no one wants to wash the dirties. How far can we really distance ourselves from the physical nature of eating and pooping? Is this a contributor to our collective lack of purpose and deep uneasiness? Washing dishes is real work for a real event
I want to learn more about how my grandparents and great grandparents handled their material things and work. I haven't started saving my basting threads because I don't know enough about sewing to really baste anything. . . but I have stopped feeling silly and apologetic for saving the crumbs from the cutting board.
P.S. Shoestring Chic #4 this Thursday!
The Writing Class
10 hours ago