Mary Isakson
A garden is one of life’s dirty miracles. I have fond memories of my father’s small-scale composting of coffee grounds and vegetable peelings in our back yard. I picture the climbing green bean vines, and recall with fondness the tiny carrots I grew in my own small plot. I pulled them up early and was disappointed with the scrawny little orange carrots covered with hair-like roots; carrots that would scrape down to the size of splinters when cleaned. But I wonder: Would I ever have recalled full-grown carrots so clearly or so fondly? The enthusiasm that led me to yank them up early infuses my memory of those tiny carrots with warmth that no full-grown vegetables have ever invoked in me.

It was with hope of giving my urban daughters a taste of that enthusiasm, a tangible connection to the earth, that I joined a community garden. To be honest, their level of participation in gardening has been less than I expected when I joined. But in the end, it has been a great experience for them and for me. They have picked cherries, strawberries, peaches, and currants that grow in the garden and are lucky enough to take for granted this access to truly fresh fruit. They have spent many summer evenings at the garden, sometimes offering help in my plot, more often mucking about with friends in the dirt, chopping compost, catching fireflies, and hiding mysterious objects in my plot.

My tiny carrots were disappointing; at the time it felt as if my experiment with gardening was a failure. With their memory, though, has grown recognition of a connection forged. This connection informed my decision to garden as an adult, and to share the joy of a garden with my daughters. If nothing else, I believe that this will foster their understanding that in fact the earth came first, and is underneath (and the foundation of) those concrete sidewalks they tread every day.

Mary Isakson
I love the pithy eloquence of Farmer Hoggett’s famous line from the 1995 movie, Babe. It's an amusing theme that runs in the back of my mind, reminding me of the importance of avoiding wastefulness.

Every day while cooking, eating, shopping, commuting, and even relaxing, moms make hundreds of choices that involve balancing our families’ resources with consideration of our environment. It would be paralyzing to spend hours consciously deliberating each decision, of course -- so it makes sense to pick out key issues and train yourself to focus on them.

Non-biodegradable plastic bags are an easy and obvious target. Their use has proliferated wildly over the past twenty years. See, for example, this September 2, 2003 National Geographic News article regarding their impact on the environment, and efforts to promote reusable bags in their stead. A more current piece in the Christian Science Monitor also addresses efforts to ban non-biodegradable plastic bags. Even though I reuse my bags as garbage can liners, my family, left unchecked, can accumulate a phenomenal number of bags. I have lately been training myself to reduce the number of bags I bring home.

Certain retailers are helpful in this effort, most notably vendors in the farmers’ market who routinely ask, "Do you want a bag?" rather than automatically providing one. "No, Thanks," is my default answer. I try to only accept a bag when I truly need it, pressing my purse, a tote, or even my gym bag into service instead.

I have carried this lesson over to other stores, where retailers otherwise automatically bag every little item. "I don’t need a bag, thanks." I blurt out while paying, trying to say it quickly, before the clerk has grabbed a fresh bag from the rack.

A word of caution: Unload all totes promptly, lest you forget an item. I can tell you from experience that it is unpleasant to discover a banana in one’s jacket pocket a few days after a shopping trip. Never mind the time the juice container fermented.

Free access to non-biodegradable bags has helped to make them ubiquitous, promoting mindless consumption. It is easy to envision retail shopping without them; many of us can still remember the days before their use was common. Reusable alternatives are readily available. Developing the habit of carrying a tote is not a major inconvenience. It is an easy thing to say, with regard to the overuse of plastic shopping bags, "That’ll do."