I am inspired by a TV programme I caught by accident whilst channel surfing. It showed a young couple and their child who were living on a boat in Greece. The woman had to swim one mile to the shore to go to the supermarket after her husband had failed to catch some fish. She had a waterproof bag that she towed along with her as she swam. Now that looked really inconvenient. If she could do that, then I can surely make a cycle trip to a supermarket.
Our usual habit of just getting a trolley and filling it would no longer be an option. Now we would have to plan the meals we want to eat and buy only what we need. I was nervous about this; it felt like a loss of freedom, Just writing that down makes me feel a bit pathetic. Many people in the world really don’t have any freedoms, and I am getting anxious about having to stick to a meal plan for a couple of days. My main worry is how he is going to react. Women are most often painted as fickle, but in my little household it’s him who is the one who changes his mind. He takes the art of keeping all options open to a new level. So far, my lifestyle changing endeavours have had no direct impact on him, he says he’s supportive of my efforts, but I wonder if committing to a particular meal two days ahead of time, and having no plan B might be a step too far, especially since he does most of the actual cooking.
I decide to approach this with a bit of creativity, perhaps we can still have the “what do you fancy for dinner conversation” but it will be limited to “what do you fancy for dinner that uses three particular ingredients, none of which have been wrapped in plastic.” I have to try and make this an attractive proposition to him, so I make an appeal to his inner geek. After I have explained the challenge, and bribed him with the promise that it means he doesn’t have to drive me to the supermarket, and so can spend the time watching the rugby or anything else he wants to do, he gets really into it. All the cookery books get brought out, and he starts cross referencing ingredients to give us the most options. About an hour later he presents me with a matrix of recipes and ingredients. I resist the temptation to say anything about his ideas, keeping my powder dry for the “why can’t we eat meat” moment.
I feel quite intrepid as I cycle to the supermarket. It’s not far, and I can take a shortcut down the canal towpath, making for a much more pleasant journey than the usual battle through the traffic in the car. I have panniers and a back pack, my shopping list and I am confident that all will be well.
Then it hits me. It’s the packaging. All the vegetables that are on my list are either pre packed in a plastic bag, or individually wrapped in plastic film. I am rooted to the spot next to the potatoes filled with indecision. The number of “sorry’s “and “excuse me’s” build up as people are forced to manoeuvre their trolleys round me, and I scuttle away into the in store café. I nurse my coffee (china mug not take away cup) and study the list again, trying to think of alternatives that don’t involve going to the butchers counter. Which is worse, plastic covered vegetables, or non plastic covered but high carbon produced meat? All these new dilemmas to navigate make my head spin.
I realise that shopping in a supermarket is going to be a thing of the past for me. I leave and get back on my bike. It’s down to the market for me.
A middle aged woman's attempts at a low carbon life 