Hope Chest: Finding Comfort in a Recycled Life

In 2006 when I surveyed the mountains of boxes and items that filled the small house I had just moved into, I became overwhelmed with the amount of “stuff” it took for me to live. I started downsizing. The kimono stand went to a local Asian school, beds and couches were scooped up by college students, and sundry kitchen items disappeared into the trunks of passing cars whose owners had spotted the “FREE” sign on my open garage door. I felt lighter, and very grown up.

Last year, my personal improvement movement took on a more “green” aspect. I use my own cloth shopping bags. Plastic bags are banished from my existence. My cat is previously owned. By the way, now that I have no plastic bags if anyone has a good idea for what to put the waste contents from the cat’s litter box in, I would be grateful for the tip. No more buying water bottled in plastic and no more buying new when used or recycled will do. I take the bus to work two or three days a week. All right, I will admit that self-preservation was a motivating force when faced with sharing snow-clogged roads with descendants of Norwegian settlers who drive like Iditarod contestants and think a full tailspin is vaguely exhilarating. But now that spring has finally arrived on the tundra, i.e., the snow rarely stays on the road for more than a few hours, my commitment to public transportation has lost some of its righteous attraction. Uffda!

The best discovery of my re-purposed existence is Hope Chest; the used-everything store that seeks to do nothing less than eliminate breast cancer. Hope Chest! Don’t you just love the play on words? I have purchased kitchen shelves ($9), perfect black slacks ($12), a Donna Karan sweater that flatters my overly generous bust line ($10) and a superb full length Bill Blass down coat (half-off at $37.50). The coat is flaming tomato red. Aha you smirk, no wonder it ended up in a second-hand store. But in these fearful northern plains winters it’s lovely not to dread leaving the house, even if one appears to be wearing an open-toed sleeping bag. And being visible from a distance is positively lifesaving when crossing the road (see Norwegian drivers comment above) as I give the impression of a moving hazard warning. Spring is an unforgiving Nordic Goddess on the plains, so I will wait another few weeks before retiring the artic survival gear. As my Grandma used to say “Ne’er cast a clout ‘til May is out.” Something she strictly observed, but I’ll save that story for another time.

I find great comfort in a recycled life. My recent acquisitions have, like me, an unknown history to the their new acquaintance, and whether the past is revealed through familiarity or remains imagined, there is a sense of intrigue that can serve to fascinate.

Some more ways to live a recycled life:

TreeHugger.com: How to Go Green Guides
Guides on how to green everything from your car to your sex life.

Recycling for Charities
Recycle old cell phones and wireless mobile devices. Proceeds benefit the charity you choose.

Ecohaul
Haul away your unwanted items to non-profit organizations, charities, schools and other businesses, before sending anything to the landfill.

PoopBags.com
Replace plastic doggy waste pick-up bags with biodegradable ones. Cat box liners are also available.

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