Okay, cloth bags are definitely going mainstream. On Saturday I went for a haircut at my usual barber. I’m definitely going to have to study the football before going next time – he talked almost non-stop about it and I was barely able to contribute anything other than make agreeable noises and bemoan the fact that Geelong’s season was over quite some time ago. Afterwards I nipped into the supermarket for a few things.
I found myself in the checkout queue, with the bloke in front and the bloke behind me both having brought cloth bags with them. I felt ashamed that I’d left mine behind at home. I almost decided to buy another one there and then before deciding that I would let it slip just this once, since I already have more than enough cloth bags, and ironically I’m short on plastic bags for re-using for garbage and things.
Then last night I was back at the supermarket (I’m incapable of doing one shop a week), and at least two of us in the queue had cloth bags. Perhaps even without the big stick of charging for plastic bags, cloth has reached critical mass, where people concerned about plastics see enough cloth bags around that they don’t feel self-conscious joining in. Quite frankly, just seeing the other bloke with his made me want to give him a high-five.
But before I get too self-congratulatory, on the other side of the environmental balance sheet, I noticed on Sunday night that an oil column heater in an unused room had been needlessly left turned on since Thursday morning. Oops.
