Nobody believed it could be done — not my know-it-all neighbors, not the nursery workers, not the gardener. When I asked how to clear out the weeds growing through my driveway and brick patio without using harmful herbicides, I was told I needed the professional grade version of Roundup (which is as toxic as it gets, and no good for my son who eats everything he picks up).

But then I found a website saying that any plant doused in vinegar and a few hours of sunlight would shrivel up and die. So  my husband poured our 3 gallon jug of white vinegar ($3 at Costco), over part of our patio to test the theory (a sprayer is the preferred method – $5 at Home Depot). That night he laughed at my enviro-friendly attempt to hold back nature, saying that of course it hadn’t worked. We were outside a couple of days later however, and I noticed that  the weeds and moss between the cracks were brown and shriveled. “Honey, is this wear you poured the vinegar?” “Yeah,” he said, not even looking at his handy-work. “I told you it didn’t work.” He hadn’t realized that the brown crackly debris was indeed as dead as a doornail, just waiting to be swept away.

My discovery of vinegar began a few months ago. After wasting several bottles of drano trying to unblock the slow building clog in my bathroom, I finally gave a DIY solution I’d found on the web a try. With little faith, I mixed a cup of vinegar with a cup of baking soda, poured it down the drain, layed a washloth over it for a few minutes, then poured a kettle of boiling water down after it. I was shocked that it totally worked (repeat the process if it doesn’t)! But I didn’t realize that simply old vinegar would continue to impress me in so many different ways.

Why do we all assume it takes a harsh chemical cleaner to get a cleaning or disinfecting job done right?  Now I use vinegar everywhere – it’s my all purpose kitchen and bathroom cleaner and disinfectant, and although it smells for a few minutes, the smell is gone once it dries. It’s just as strong as any Fantastick, Roundup, clorox, but so much cheaper and safer. Now I can relax if my son breaks open my sink’s childproof latch and starts playing with the cleaning products, because I don’t need any of those poisons any more. 

What’s your best cheap or natural discovery of a cleaning or weed product?

            We barbecue as much as possible—it’s easy and it gets us outside. We go to the town pool a lot and we got a kiddy pool of our own. It’s small, but plenty for Miles, our toddler, and my daughter, Allie, likes it as the crash landing pad at the bottom of our plastic slide. We have friends over and make it potluck or a pizza night when I’m too worn out to think about cooking. We’ve also moved game night outdoors—our answer to the fact that we’re not as physical as we’d like to be. I’m teaching Allie to ride a bike (she’s almost there), we play tag and not-quite soccer and kickball, and at bedtime last night she dragged us to the window to prove to us that firefly season has indeed finally begun. Of course I was being the lame mom, trying to get her to bed, but I had to remind myself that this is what summer—and childhood—and life for that matter—is all about.  So I let her stay up a little late, left the dishes and joined in the firefly chase. Nothing makes better memories than spending that kind of fun together with family.

I was changing a flourescent bulb in the basement the other night and it smashed. As it was falling I saw a fine dust fly out of it. That’s when I remembered something half buried in my conscious — oh yeah, don’t these have mercury in them? Isn’t that a hazard? But being alone with two kids, I swept it up and threw it out, and promptly forgot about it.

After I got an electric shock changing another bulb (I thought I’d try it with the lights ON — an electric current has to be better than mercury poisoning, right?) I was discussing the hazards of light bulbs with my husband. He had never even heard about the mercury in flourescents. So we started looking around online, and sure enough, there’s a whole protocol about recycling them because of the toxic mercury inside. When they break it’s a big deal, and clean up needs to be pretty intensive, to the tune of you need to clear and air out the room before cleanup, wear thick gloves, you can’t use a broom or vacuum or they’ll contaminate everything else, you have to throw out rather than wash any clothes that were touched … And then there was the news story about the woman in Maine who sealed off a bedroom because she couldn’t afford the $2000 hazardous cleanup crew the state recommended she use.

Then my husband reminded me that a CFL had broken in our 17 month old son’s room a few months back, and we didn’t think twice about my hands, the surfaces, or his bed and sheets a foot away from the lamp.

I understand that CFLs help the environment (by reducing the amount of mercury coal power plants emit, ironically), and I want to do my part. But how come we’ve all been urged to switch to them for the past couple of years when there’s almost no public information about their danger, or where or how to recycle them (thank goodness Home Depot now recycles them—it used to be only hazardous waste sites)? The EPA has acknowledged that there is a lack of public information about disposal of these bulbs and the hazards of them breaking, but I don’t want to hear regret, I want solid leadership!

I kind of feel like I’ve been duped. I’m just taking mercury out of the larger environment and adding it to my home evironment (and into my body, since I’m no-glove the bulb cleaner-upper). How serious is exposure to mercury? According to the EPA, “Exposure to mercury can affect our brain, spinal cord, kidneys and liver, causingsymptoms such as trembling hands, memory loss, and difficulty moving.” One light bulb won’t cause this of course (there’s not a lot of mercury in one), but I don’t like the idea of twenty years of broken light bulbs. Am I the lone fool who didn’t think of this before I bought a bunch of these bulbs into a house of small climbing children and clumsy adults?

I’m all for them in theory, but be careful. Don’t put these bulbs in easy to knock over lamps, don’t change them in the dark, and don’t break them! If you do, learn the EPA’s protocol on how to clean up after a broken flourescent bulb. http://www.epa.gov/mercury/spills/index.htm#flourescent

The alternative? Incandescent, which is sounding mighty nice to me now, and LED lights, which are still expensive, but supposed to come down in price. They might be the wave of the future.

Ever since my mother took me hunting for second-hand treasures at “The Opportunity Shop,” when I was a girl, I’ve been a fan of all things recycled—tag sales, thrift shops, freecycling (before I knew what it was), flea markets, craigslist, you name it.  And it’s not just about the bargain – it’s the thrill of the find, and the feeling of resourcefulness that I didn’t go overspend on something new or contribute to waste, because a perfectly good alternative already existed within my reach. I also tend to get more interesting stuff, and better quality furniture than I could afford at an overpriced department store. The second-hand idea just always made sense to me, even before everyone went green, and the recession made us all tighten our belts. I’ve never felt any shame in it, in fact I giddily dart between yard sales in my town every Saturday morning, and proudly point out my treasures to anyone who will listen.

But I have to admit that when we got rid of our landline phone recently, I didn’t tell anyone. They found out by calling our house, and getting a recording giving them my cell phone number.  In retrospect, I realize I was kind of embarrassed. I think I worried that people would think that we can’t afford it, or worse, that it was disconnected. The truth is, our life IS too expensive for us, which is why we got rid of it. The embarrassment is just crazy, because those cuts are actually a good thing — a sign that we’re bringing our life back within our means. And there’s no shame in that.  

Our country has a long history of keeping up with the Jones’, and I’ve never wanted to be like that, but when I see it creeping in to my behavior, I have to call it. I bet if I did a poll, a lot of women would say they’re living over their heads, and all of them are trying to cut out that extra spending right now. It seems to me that the more we just tell the truth, the more we realize we’re not alone in this, and the closer we are to actually getting our spending in line.

So I’m admitting it. I couldn’t really afford my phone (along with our two cell phones and taxes and mortgage and the kids day care and everything else….).

Do you struggle with shame around your budget cuts? Is there anything you’ve cut out that you’ve been reluctant to share with your friends and family? If so, why do you think that is?