Tread softly – on the Planet

I came across a (not so) curious fact the other day.

A cotton handkerchief can be washed 520 times – (apparently, but who is counting?) - and needs about 165 litres (about 44 gallons) of water to manufacture. Think of it – cotton requires a lot of water to grow, then once picked it must be processed into threads, dyed, then woven into cotton material (using water, chemicals and energy). But, and it is a big but, a handkerchief may be washed and re-used many, many times (apparently – as mentioned – 520 times).

Whereas, apparently, 1 paper tissue (one tissue) requires about 2.2.litres - (just short of 1 gallon) of water to manufacture. Think of it – trees chopped down (energy); timber pulped (energy and water); pulp needing to be bleached (chemicals and water); bleached pulp then processed into tissue paper.  Every stage of the process requires water, chemicals and energy.

I am aware of the convenience of paper tissues (for various purposes), I’ve used them for years, but they just add to the land-fill problem.  

Just look at the maths – 75 tissues (165/2.2) = 1 hanky. Multiply that by 520 and the figure arrived at is 39000 tissues needed to equal the life of one hanky. And that is a lot of water and a lot of trees. I know, I know, that water is needed to wash (520 times) the afore mentioned handkerchief – but it will be washed together with other items. Then there are the chemicals used and various forms of energy required during manufacture. Then there is the air pollution – for both. But even so I think there is no contest.

I still have quite a few handkerchiefs at the back of my socks (sorry “sox” for those readers in the US of A!!).

They are now being resurrected.

Quiet times

It is during times like these – frenetic and somewhat unnerving times – that I recall my youth and the support I received from my parents and other family members.

I know that I was a “war baby” – born during the Second World War, but I never experienced any of that violence, being too far removed from any front line. I was thinking about my emotional state and support. In this I believe I was very fortunate, more fortunate than many.

My parents were loving parents. They were highly intelligent, well-educated and literate people. It is from them that I learned about great literature, poetry and classical music and established a pattern of reading and listening to music that is with me still. For that I am very grateful.

They were gentle people.

This is a poem that, to me, says it all.

TWILIGHT

Twilight it is, and the far woods are dim, and the rooks

            cry and call.

Down in the valley the lamps, and the mist, and a star

            over all,

There by the rick, where they thresh, is the drone at an end,

Twilight it is, and I travel the road with my friend.

I think of the friends who are dead, who were dear long ago

            in the past,

Beautiful friends who are dead, though I know that death

            cannot last;

Friends with the beautiful eyes that the dust has defiled,

Beautiful souls who were gentle when I was a child.

                                                                                    John Masefield