What about Halloween?

I received a few emails and comments asking how we plan to celebrate Halloween. Frankly, I really have a hard time with Halloween. I like the activities, but in a perfect world, the celebration would be a non-commercial, waste-free, treasure-sharing (see “treasures” below), costume festival, that I would fully support. Until then...

Our kids are still at an age where they want to share the fun with their friends and join them in trick-or-treating. And yet, I want to keep the tradition as sustainable as possible. But how? When in doubt, I apply the obvious rule: Refuse, Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, Rot. After discussing an approach with the kids, here is the plan that we came up with:

REFUSE:

-Plastic toys or favors when trick-or-treating, the kids will pick recyclable or compostable items instead.

REDUCE:

-Instead of doing a whole neighborhood, we plan to trick-or-treat one street. It helps being invited to a party before or after to reduce time spent going door to door.

REUSE:

-Costumes: Coming up with a homemade outfit is our first choice but it is also a challenge in a minimalist home (probably the only downside of living with less). When we strike-out of ideas, we go to the thrift store, and on the spot choose or make up a costume. I expect thrift shops to be most busy this time of year!

By the way, I am not crazy about dressing up for Halloween: I have enough fun reinventing my wardrobe everyday of the year ;)

-As you would expect, we keep our decorating minimal (What can I say: I did not grow up with this tradition), with just a few tiny pumpkins that I make into a soup the next day and serve sprinkled with its roasted seeds.

-We plan to participate in the Halloween Candy Buy Back for the non-recyclable treats, this year for the first time. This is the most motivating program I have found for my 2 boys to give away their candy;)

RECYCLE:

- When possible, the kids will choose treats in cardboard: Dots, Milk Duds, Nerds or Raisins (but I doubt that we'll run in many of those).

COMPOST:

-To state the obvious, the rinds of our pumpkins used for making soup will get composted.

-I made a watermelon brain for a potluck buffet tonight. Hopefully, it will get completely eaten. If not, and if it gets too picked on, I'll take the leftovers home to compost.

In case you were wondering, our front door is 36 steps from the street, so by nature we do not get trick-or-treaters (sometimes, life just simplifies itself;). If we did, this website gives some good alternatives to candy. Here is the revised list with my waste-free favorites, in alphabetical order:

Food items ("treats"): Boxes of organic raisins, Fruit (like mandarins), Licorice Root Stick (I loved to chew on these as a kid).

Non-food items ("treasures") are also a great alternative to treats: Bracelets made with a natural fiber or yarn, Coins (US or non-US: I know my kids would get exited about getting a penny), Feathers, Lavender sachet, Polished rocks or skipping stones, Printed items (jokes, word games, word search or cross word puzzles), Seashells, Seed packets or plantable paper, Soap (unpackaged of course), Stamps from foreign countries.

How do you celebrate Halloween with your kids?

Is the Zero Waste Home only about waste reduction?

I received a long angry comment this week.

The commenter implied that our household was single minded... “Your lifestyle seems to be very austere” he or she wrote . “I'm wondering if you have a viewpoint on what we are all supposed to be doing here on planet earth? In addition to counting the band-aids in our trash cans, I mean”. Do you think your children find that it's a good trade off... you know for them to become social pariahs in exchange for you indulging your obsession.”

Boy! How did this commenter even get to this blog? Why did "anonymous" even spend time reading it if he or she did not understand the subject of it? How can he or she insult our kids so freely, not knowing them or their social life.

I replied that not every blog is for everyone...

And yet, what sticks in my mind about this comment is: Who does this person really think we are? Does this person really think that we ONLY care about waste?

In other words: Is the Zero Waste Home only about waste reduction? As I mentioned before, if it was not for this blog, I would not even think about waste on a daily basis. No seriously, beside the frustrating unavoidable trash bits, zero waste has become a no-brainer and a natural, unconscious part of our life, it has become automatic. We take our bags / jars and try to make good buying decisions when we shop once a week, refuse the occasional freebies, send an occasional email of complaint, and ask our friends and family to respect our lifestyle when they come. That's it. That's as much time as our family would think about zero waste... had I not started writing (and thus elaborating) about it.

I personally love art, fashion, foraging, homemaking, organizing, volunteering, simplifying,... I could have written a blog on any of these. And yet I chose zero waste. Why? Because in my mind it sums it all up. It has made my art more focused, my foraged miner's lettuce tastier, my thrifting more acceptable, my minimalism more understandable, my homemaking and volunteering more purposeful. For once in my life, it seems that all my interests and talents are connected. Plus, wouldn't it be selfish not to share my trials (Lush deodorant), failures (vinegar hair rinse), successes (baking soda toothpowder) and finds (local bulk stores) with others?

Let's face it. Zero waste is not just about waste: it's about enjoying simple pleasures, eating local and seasonal foods, living a healthier lifestyle, enjoying the outdoors more, getting closer to the Earth, finding fulfillment in volunteering activities, and simplifying your life to make room for things that matter most to you. If it was not for the latter, I would have never found the time to write this blog.

The commenter went on to criticize my refusing laminated school work last June. “Did you know that a lot of parents don't judge their children's artwork on whether it will biodegrade easily?”, he or she asked. “Actually a lot of parents would treasure their childrens' artwork and want it to last forever. But you rejected your childrens' artwork because it had become the wrong kind of trash.”, the commenter wrote.

Is this comment supposed to make me feel some kind of guilt for the laminated work that I refused? I am sorry to disappoint the commenter even further, but I don't. Through my simplifying business I witness numerous homes filled with “heirloom guilt" and I could not agree more with this quote from a New York Times article: "Barry Lubetkin, a psychologist and the Director of the Institute for Behavior Therapy in Manhattan, who has observed this [heirloom guilt] in a number of patients [...]. It’s an unhealthy setup, in which people become "slaves to inanimate objects,” he says. “Once you’re defining it as something you can’t get rid of, you’re not in control of your life or your home.”"

Let's say I had succumbed to the heirloom guilt: Was I supposed to bring the laminated piece home (no matter its quality) and add it to a bin full of other laminated school stuff, which would then be passed on, along with the same guilt, to my kids children and grand children? Our life is not about stuff and we're teaching our kids that life is not about stuff. So why should I allow teachers to fill my house with stuff? Shouldn't parents and children have the right to choose what to keep? After all we receive a ton of artwork from school all year long, so why should the one that is laminated be kept? What if your child, was sick and not in the mood or simply botched that particular project? Yet it would get laminated for a whole family branch to keep forever? Does not make sense to me at all.

Let's say my great grand kids felt liberated enough to discard it later: Do I want my kids laminated art to contribute to the great pacific garbage patch? Of course not.

I really don't think I am being “very austere” here and I don't think it was wrong to reject lamination. Quite the contrary, I think it would be more wrong NOT to reject it and allow this wasteful school practice to get out of control.

Accepting is condoning - just like shopping is voting. I cannot ignore (the easy way in life) the negative environmental impact of lamination, not to mention its expense. I would rather our public school money be better spent. If I don't do anything about it, who will? Obviously not the commenter. So, I say it once again: “Be the change you want the world to be” - Gandhi.

The commenter also implied that my son was deprived because he loved band-aids and we ran out... hmmm.

Can one really be deprived of Spongebob band-aids? The Merriam Webster defines “deprived” as “marked by deprivation especially of the necessities of life or of healthful environmental influences”

Are Spongebob band-aids “a necessity of life or a healthful environmental influence”? Maybe to the commenter, but our son does not seem to think so. He has not asked for them since we ran out. Luckily, his livelihood does not rest on band-aids, but rather on more important activities (like playing football with his dad).

And if one dares to say that my children are deprived because we don't have band-aids, can you say that my children are deprived because they also do not have video games (they play outside, build Lego's, or learn to bake or paint instead)?

Can you say that my children are deprived because we don't buy junk food (they eat healthy bulk or homemade meals instead)?

Can you say that my children are deprived because we don't drive them to school in a warm/or air conditioned car (they get exercise and fresh air by riding their bikes instead)?

Can you say my children are deprived because we don't give them vitamins (we believe in a healthy diet and outdoor activity instead)?

Can you say that my children are deprived because apart from a few french comic books they don't have books (the local library has made thousands of books available to them and turned them into avid readers instead)?

Can you say that my children are deprived because they don't have TV (they prefer to watch a commercial free Netflix movie instead)?

Can you say that my children are deprived because we do not keep ALL their artwork (together, we select and store our favorites)? By the way, our staircase is filled with them. See picture above.

Can you say my children are deprived because we don't have trash cans in the house? Seriously.

I guess the answer to the questions above depend on the personal health and life standards you have set for your family.

We are not perfect and we are not 100% waste free. But we love what the zero waste lifestyle has done for our family beyond waste reduction. We hope that many more families will get to discover it for themselves. This is what this blog is really about. Sharing an on-going life changing experience. But my words will only make sense to you if you're ready and willing to accept change. The commenter obviously is not. Are you?

Or if you started already, what has Zero Waste done for you beyond waste reduction?

Getting heavy

There is an honourable tradition in New Zealand home design that strives for lightness, of timber homes resting lightly on the land. I remember my French teacher at high school saying that when she returned to New Zealand after many years in France, the homes in New Zealand looked as if they could all blow away in the next breeze.

One of the finalists in this year's Home of the Year award makes a case for the European sort of solidity my teacher was referring to. The house is by Stevens Lawson Architects (who won the award with their house by Lake Wanaka, which you can see in an earlier post), built for clients who requested concrete for its heft and its low-maintenance qualities. These photographs by Mark Smith show just how solid this home turned out to be. It is located on a harbourside site in Auckland's eastern suburbs. The elevation below faces the water, with the main bedroom on the upper right, the kitchen and dining space below it, and a covered sitting area extending off the living room on the left-hand-side of this image:

The house is just as sculptural at the entrance, at the bottom of a very steep driveway. This shot gives you a good view of the central 'canyon', a glass-topped, double-height hallway that drags light into the centre of the home. (The house is located beside a slope to the north that blocks sunlight for a few hours in the winter, hence the design of the glass-topped volume to admit more light).

The home was designed using pre-cast concrete panels that feature ribbed details best viewed in this shot of the southern elevation:

The monumental exterior means some of the interiors are just as dramatic. This view shows the inside of the 'canyon' with its glass-topped roof. The timber feature is a 'bridge' across this double-height space.

This shot looks from the dining area across to a living room which in turn opens onto the covered exterior sitting area you can see in the first shot of this post. Inside, the material palette has been kept to a simple combination of timber and concrete with slate floors.

Some of the rooms feature surprising and dramatic devices for admitting light, such as the space in the shot below, which can be used as a home theatre or a snug, cave-like hideaway (there is also a slow window looking out to the water just out of the right-hand-side of the frame). The home may seem intimidatingly hefty from the outside, but as you can see, the interior offers a wide range of views and experiences.

So there you have it - an unashamedly heavyweight house. Sure, it runs contrary to the New Zealand timber tradition, but its engagement with the uniquely New Zealand landscape around it means it doesn't feel as if this is anything other than a New Zealand house.

Crappy Month and Wasteful Repairs.

Boy did we have a crappy, wasteful month. People say “shit happens”, but a whole truck load fell on us these past few weeks. Not a pretty picture, I realize ;).

It all started on a Thursday evening.

After a long day of work and dinner time fast approaching, I had been faced with a practically empty refrigerator (I grocery shop on Fridays), and challenged once again to make dinner with the few bits scattered in the refrigerator. I had managed to make the best of the one tomato, chunk of cheese, lonely egg and last cup of flour - and had proudly put together a tomato quiche. (These are my proudest moments in the kitchen: Making something out of “nothing”. I even surprise myself sometimes). But we never not got to savor the pretty quiche that night... My gas range would not turn on. I tried resetting its power, but in vain. I would have to wait until the next morning for further repair action (the service center being closed for the day of course). So there we were: Hungry, kids showered and in PJ's, Scott pacing, 7:30pm and nothing on the table.

Confronted with six hungry desperate eyes, asking “What's for dinner?”, I called in for my 1st takeout pizza ever (I am 36 years old by the way and have been avoiding takeouts, since I started home cooking 18 years ago). I felt all goofy on the phone, not knowing the protocols of ordering a pizza (if there are such things), but I did not forget to request “no Lilliputian table” (you know the white plastic piece in the middle of the pizza to keep the box top from sticking to your toppings). Within 20 minutes the extra large pizza and its extra large box crossed the Zero Waste Home's threshold. Gasp.

Wait! Don't leave the blog yet. While we were gone this summer, our town finally started City Compost (the best "sustainable" thing that has happen to our town since we moved here three years ago). We are now able to compost our meat, fish bones, butter wrappers... and the emergency pizza box. Not that I condone the compostable cardboard takeout container, which in our case only had a useful life of literally 5 minutes (ugh)...

The next morning, I called the service center for the range. After a few questions, they recommended that I call in a repairman. I did. But since labor day weekend was about to start, the repairman could only come on Tuesday.

A few BBQ, salads, and sandwiches later, came Tuesday with the repairman. Then, Wednesday with two repairmen, Thursday with a handyman, Friday with a new repairman, another stove-free weekend, and Monday with a plumber. And on top of all expensive and unexpected gas repair bills, a whole lot of trash: the repairman's takeout soda cup and straw, the repair parts packaging, the broken pieces... And the old gas pipes. Did those get recycled? I did not even ask, too frazzled and mad at our original contractor for screwing up the oven's installation in the first place.

It took a week and a half to get the oven up and running again. And when we thought we were done with repairs, more (completely un-related) problems came... It's as if we had been cursed by the unavoidable powers of Trash Evil.

- Our kitchen sink backed up and in spite of our unclogging efforts, all the original piping from the sink to the sewer had to be replaced. Repair: New copper piping outside, and new ABS piping under the house, glue, caulking, paint and parts... Landfill: Completely clogged metal piping (empty caulking tube is a #2 and went into the recycling)

- Our entertainment center fan stopped working, and without it our sound system is unusable (it gets too hot in its enclosed space under our stairs). Repair: New fan in a cardboard box and plastic packaging. Landfill: Fan parts (I hope to recycle the motor at an e-waste station).

- A corner of our marble counter broke off! Repair: Epoxy putty. Landfill: Double plastic packaging of epoxy putty (packaging within packaging).

- Our hair trimmer for our DYI haircuts broke. Repair: New hair trimmer in cardboard box. Landfill: Plastic parts of hair trimmer (will take the motor to the e-cycling also).

- Then the plastic casing of Scott's beard trimmer broke (No seriously, the hair trimmer just went out - and now the beard trimmer!). Repair: New beard trimmer. Landfill: Plastic part of trimmer and plastic packaging of trimmer (will take the trimmer motor to e-cycling also).

- We noticed our dining chairs scratching the hard wood floors, they needed new pads. Repair: Felt pads on chair bottoms. Landfill: Packaging of felt pads (FYI - The next day I found some in bulk. Bummer!)

- One light bulb went out, then another, and another: that's three light bulbs in one month (and I am trying not to be paranoid here). Repair: Three specialty light bulbs (two in plastic packaging, one in cardboard). Landfill: Three light bulbs and two plastic packages.

- We noticed that some paint had bubbled up on the side of the house. Repair: Sand and paint the siding before the rainy season. Landfill: Sand paper and paint roller.

- I dropped my all purpose shears, the plastic handle completely shattered. Repair: Get a new sturdier pair of shears. Landfill: The broken shears (I could not get the metal off the plastic to recycle the metal).

- We got a flat on a practically new tire, sometimes they are repairable, in this case (because of the location of the puncture on the side of the tire) it was not. Repair: New tire (the tire shop said that they would recycle our old tire...) Landfill: The greasy hand rag (a piece of retired tee-shirt) we used in changing the tire.

- Our remote control ran out of battery (the last disposable batteries we had). Repair: A new pack of AAA rechargeable batteries. Landfill: Plastic packaging of new batteries.

When people now ask me what the packaging the hardest to avoid in a Zero Waste Home is, my answer is: Hands down, home repairs. No doubt about it.

Hardware stores might have some good bulk items: Loose screws by the ounce, loose plumbing parts, irrigation parts, felt pads, cable by the foot, all scattered in different stores around town (oh, do I wish there were all in one place). But they also have some of the worse packaging. Come on Ace and Home Depot, can't you ask your suppliers for alternatives to the plastic packaging everywhere? Do felt pads, batteries, CFL's, and a single tiny junction box cap need to be displayed in this frustratingly-hard-to-open hard shell plastic?

Here's to a better month ahead!

Our new masthead - and cover!

Our next cover, which you'll see on newsstands from October 11, features our revised masthead, which you can see in the image above (the house is by Andrea Bell of Pete Bossley Architects).

A couple of months ago we decided that our previous masthead no longer fit as cohesively as we would like with the rest of the magazine. When art director Miranda Dempster started work here about 18 months ago, she introduced a family of rounded, friendly-looking fonts that she felt softened the harder edges of some of the architecture we feature, and enhanced the magazine's sense of approachability. Once she did this, the old masthead started to feel a bit dated; its pointiness and heavily 'constructed' feeling no longer represented what we wanted the magazine to stand for.

So we contacted Arch MacDonnell (that's him in the photo above) at Auckland design firm Inhouse and asked him and his team to come up with options for a new masthead that better reflected our vision for the magazine. We said we wanted something that felt evolutionary rather than revolutionary, especially considering the magazine only changed its name from NZ Home & Entertaining to HOME New Zealand three years ago. Change is good, but we didn't want to force too much radical change on our readers.

After a few meetings in which Arch showed us a really exciting set of options, the masthead you see above is the one we opted for. Interestingly, as we've been showing it around the office here, some people don't even notice that there's been a change, something that suits us fine, as we didn't want our regular readers to feel they no longer recognised us.

We like the new masthead's friendliness and approachability, and we also like how clean and graphic it feels. The period at the end containing the letters 'NZ' adds a nice sense of solidity, a feeling that we emphatically know what we're on about (which, most of the time, we like to think we do!). What we like most of all is how it sits so comfortably on our new cover, as if it logically belongs there.

Arch is on our next contributors' page answering questions about the new masthead. Here's what he had to say:

HOME New Zealand: How did you and your team come up with our new masthead?

Arch MacDonnell: We wanted to soften the hard-edged angularity of the old masthead. It needed to feel more 'homely' without being too cutesy or crafty. We opted for a customised weight of Gotham rounded, an elegant and modern font from the talented folk at Hoefler & Frere-Jones. We think the resulting letterforms are assertive yet not imposing. Friendly, yet not folksy. All in all, a well-rounded solution.

Did you enjoy the process?

It's always nice to work on a project that needs to evolve rather than radically change.
Getting up close and personal with the letterforms is something we like to do! And it’s amazing how little adjustments here and there have such an effect on the personality of a letterform.

What else are you working on at the moment?

As always there's a diverse mix of projects simmering away at Inhouse. There's a new wine label for &Co simply called The Supernatural, with a brief to break wine label conventions, a brand refresh for the Auckland Art Fair, a new book project with the irrepressible John Reynolds, and an identity extension for a coffee roastery/restaurant/bar in London (Caravan) as well as developing a series of our own graphic objects that we'll be releasing in the coming months.