THE BOOKLESS CLUB TALKS THRIFTINESS
My mom almost never sat down.
If mom was sitting down, however, you could be sure she had a beer bottle in her hand. Day or night, it didn’t matter. If she was seated, a bottle of Old Style Pilsner beer would be cradled on her lap. If you’re wondering why her four kids weren’t made wards of the state, it’s because she was darning. She used the empty beer bottle as a substitute darning egg. She was — is — the soul of invention. Why buy a device for repairing socks when you could improvise with an empty stubby?
Now, if you have to ask what darning is, you’re not keeping up with Pandemic 101. Darning a sock is what you call mending a hole in a sock. It’s the opposite of throwing out a sock. Right now, the opposite of throwing things out is having a moment.
Let’s hope it turns out to be more than a moment. Thrift is back.
And thrift can save the world. Long before the word thrift got tainted by the idea of parsimony, its meaning hinged on concepts of thriving, of prosperity. Without the proper husbandry of resources — thrift — prosperity was a long shot. Given that sound business principles such as thrift are the underpinning of economic success, it’s hard to fathom how, over recent decades, we moved so far away from this virtue. But we did. Planned obsolescence and disposability became cornerstones of our economy. The landfills topped out with resource-dense appliances and toys paid for on credit.
Right now, with reduced retail opportunities, lineups for grocery or hardware shopping, supply chain disruptions and the like, getting maximum utility from stuff you already have on hand is Job One. People are willingly — happily — embracing the careful conservation and maximization of all resources.
Here are two duelling concepts for you: Ikea and sustainability. As unlikely as it sounds, Ikea’s head of sustainability was one of the first to announce that the west had achieved “peak stuff.” Apparently, there are now more Ikea Lack tables in the world than there are people. At least, it looks that way when you visit a Sally Ann. On the BBC, a callow lad is earnestly demonstrating to young Brits how to use the outside leaves of the cauliflower. It’s hard to reconcile that, within living memory, those same Brits’ grandparents lived through the Battle of Britain and food shortages. Online, the Pandemic Pantry is offering advice on using up what you have on hand in the kitchen. And did you know that eggshells are edible? These days,
I routinely get emails about the infinite uses for eggshells.
Thrift is not simply about saving money, although who could argue that that’s a bad idea? Thrift is about resourcefulness, which is about thinking. It’s about understanding a problem and contriving a solution. We prize ingenuity, but a can-do attitude seems to have been supplanted by a can-buy attitude. We don’t fix things — we go to the mall. And that’s despite the plethora of information available online.
At this very moment, I have a bowl of flour, sugar and plaster of paris ready to be made into an environmental rodent killer. It may not be the Hadron Particle Collider, but it is a science project. I don’t want to inadvertently introduce toxins to raptors, but I do want to — economically, environmentally — control the rats and mice I see scurrying between neighbourhood bird feeders. Will it work? Only time and dead rats will tell. The point of it is this: I’m problem solving. And when I’m done, I’m going to have a beer and call my mom.
Jane Macdougall is a freelance writer and former National Post columnist who lives in Vancouver. Her garden is her major distraction during COVID-19. She will be writing on The Bookless Club every Saturday online and in The Vancouver Sun.
THIS WEEK’S QUESTION FOR READERS:
Q What’s your pandemic life hack?
RESPONSES TO LAST WEEK’S QUESTION:
Q Will the pandemic strengthen neighbourhoods?
Yes, undoubtedly it will/has already strengthened neighbourhoods. I have noticed so many more people out walking and bike riding who were never on my street before. And despite moving as far away as possible in order to pass, there is now always a “Hello” or a “Strange times, aren’t they?” or a “Like that hat, did you get it locally?” Humans are social beings, and we may have forgotten that in the last 50 years with the increased dependence on the car and our desire to build accommodation that does not facilitate social contact. That’s one positive about these weird times.
Jayne Seagrave
I am hoping that neighbourhoods will survive the pandemic with a new fervour for what is important. We have all had a break from consumerism and selfish gain. Surely, now we can begin to think of how we can be there for each other. People working together can achieve miracles. Not only that — it would make us all feel good.
Julia Wilson
Do I ever hope so. To thrive beyond basic surviving, most of us need supportive community — family, besties, our life-routine people. Being seen and heard by “our others” fuels empathy, compassion, hope, small joys. Lately when I’m running, my “neighbours” smile and wave. We connect in that simple brief moment of hello. And when times get a little tricky, or seriously hard, a neighbourhood can literally be the collective hand on our individual backs to carry us through. My parents experienced a life-altering hardship a few years ago and I witnessed first-hand an immense compassionate response from their neighbourhood. What a tremendous impact, with ripple effects to this day. If we could all be so lucky within our own chosen neighbourhoods.