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For years I have tried to reduce the amount of plastic in our home. I don’t like the fact that it is made from petroleum. I don’t like that there is so much of it in the world. And I don’t trust that it is safe.

So I’ve refused countless plastic bags at the grocery store. My partner and I eat very little processed, and therefore packaged, food. Our one-year-old son has almost no plastic toys. He uses cloth diapers. I use non-plastic menstruation products (the typical Western woman uses 15,000 largely plastic menstruation products in her life). And I try to use natural-fibre clothes.

And yet plastic permeates our life. But January 2009 was going to be different.

Day 1. Without fanfare or much planning, we swear off plastic. We will not bring any plastic — new or used — into our home for the next 31 days.

– 2. Cheese is a worry. We eat a lot and it comes in plastic. But we have lots of post-Christmas leftovers so we’re okay for a while.

– 3. Oh shit: what if we run out of toilet paper? It all comes wrapped in you-know-what.

– 4. Emptied the vinegar container today. It’s one of our main cleaning products and with a toddler there’s lots to clean.

– 5. The law says fruit must be individually labeled. The stickers seem very plasticy. We’re mostly 100-mile dieters and have gotten used to living without bananas and oranges, but we will miss apples.

– 6. Milk is an issue. The newly available local organic milk — for which we’ve long waited — comes in plastic jugs. The conventional milk can be bought in cartons (which we convince ourselves are coated with wax, not plastic). I know it’s snobby but I don’t want that factory farm milk in my body or my tiny boy’s body. After much deliberation, I buy regular milk in a carton.

– 7. Our new woolen mattress, made by friends, arrives — fully wrapped in plastic. But they are thrilled to take the plastic back. The only plastic that stays is the head of a pin used to attach a tag.

– 8. I wish we had feta cheese.

– 9. No news is good news.

– 10. Ditto.

– 11. I go to the pool. My bathing cap went missing last time. Oh well, they’re cheap. It’s only when I’m ripping the new latex (not plastic) cap out of its plastic wrapping that I remember my pledge. Ooops.

– 12. Hard to find local root vegetables that aren’t pre-wrapped in plastic. The unwrapped produce is from California. I postpone the decision.

– 13. I use the last of our oatmeal. We usually get it from local farmers but it comes in plastic. I’ll have to wait until February.

– 14. I go to a potluck. There is cheese. I eat lots.

– 15. Why is our garbage and recycling still so full of plastic?

-16. We’re out of homemade bread. The local bakery lets us bring our own bags.

– 17. My mother-in-law has been collecting craft supplies for me at the thrift store where she works. A bag of supplies arrives. Each item carefully wrapped in Ziploc bags. Another “oops.”

– 18. Meltdown day. My partner Will is desperate for a pair of skates. And my friend has offered to drive me to the wool shop at the far end of town. The tally: a pair of used, partially plastic skates, some wool with acrylic (plastic) woven in, bamboo knitting needles wrapped in plastic and some plastic-wrapped wool. It just happened.

– 19. Recovery from yesterday.

– 20. Will goes skating. I knit.

– 21. Goldmine: I find local, organic, non-packaged carrots!

– 22. We need cooking oil. We can get it in glass bottles, but the lid. . . . An attempt to get local bulk oil at a bakery fails. Thankfully, local butter comes in some kind of foil wrap.

– 23. Quiet day on the plastic front.

– 24. I get our decade-old plastic dish soap container refilled.

– 25. I find apples without stickers! I later learn the store had the stickers but didn’t bother to put them on, law or no law.

– 26. Brunch guests arrive bearing gifts — a used CD and a classic children’s cassette. Plastic cases. And a loaf of bread — in plastic. We accept.

– 27. Will makes it to the bakery too late for fresh bread. It’s all bagged. He comes home empty-handed and bakes biscuits.

– 28. I order oatmeal and other grains. It usually takes a week or two to arrive but later that day I get an email saying they’re coming tomorrow. Umm, ok.

– 29. I need to call my sister in Haiti about family stuff. To call without a phone card (plastic) costs nearly a dollar a minute. I guess that call will have to wait.

– 30. Getting close.

– 31. Still have one roll of toilet paper. Hurray, we’re going to make it.

Conclusion: we reduced plastic intake for a month, but if I were to try avoiding it altogether I might as well just stick my head in a snowdrift.

What next? I will continue my efforts to avoid and refuse plastic wrapping. I vow to look at labels more closely, to wear more wool and cotton. I’ll continue to grow and buy naked food. I’ll keep trying to figure out how to freeze food without plastic. I will continue to attempt minimal-plastic parenting. I will again ask the bakery to refill glass oil bottles. I vow to phone the new dairy and urge them to use glass. With increased resolve, I will continue my efforts at elimination, reduction and imaginative alternatives.

Jennifer deGroot lives in Winnipeg, Manitoba with her partner Will Braun and their son Zavi. This article also appears in the Spring 2009 issue of Geez magazine and is published here with permission.