recycled container


Upcycling Jars, Bottles, and Other Glass Containers.

I cook ALOT. I’m quite proud of my little collection of herbs, spices, teas, legumes, and other dried edibles. Not so much for the actual contents, but for the fact that 90% of the glass containers were upcycled. I saved my kimchi jars, pasta sauce jars, pickle jars, jam jars, booze jars - errrr, whatever I bum off the bartender, and etc. I especially love using the Canada Dry tonic water bottles for my spices; the wine corks I save fits the perfectly as a stopper! The rest of my containers are usually rescued from flea markets and thrift shops. 

I encourage everyone to find a place in their homes for glass packaging. Keep them out of the dumpster.

The Life Cycle of a Plastic Bottle

We’ve all been told that we should recycle plastic bottles and containers. But what actually happens to the plastic if we just throw it away? Here are the life cycles of three different plastic bottles.

Bottle One, like hundreds of millions of tons of its plastic brethren, ends up in a landfill. This huge dump expands each day, as more trash moves in and continues to take up space. 

As plastics sit there being compressed, rainwater flows through the waste and absorbs the water soluble compounds it contains, and some of those are highly toxic. Together they create a harmful stew called “leachate”, which can move into groundwater, soil, and streams, poisoning ecosystems and harming wildlife. It can take Bottle One an agonizing 1,000 years to decompose.

Bottle Two floats on a trickle that reaches a stream, a stream that flows into a river, and a river that reaches the ocean. After months lost at sea, it’s slowly drawn into a massive vortex, where trash accumulates - place known as “The Great Pacific Garbage Patch.” This is one of five plastic filled gyres in the worlds seas. 

Some animals mistake the brightly colored plastic bits for food. Plastic makes them feel full when they’re not, so they starve to death, passing the toxins from the plastic up the food chain, eventually to us.

Bottle Three, on the other hand, is recycled. It’s taken away on a truck to a plant, where it and its companions are squeezed flat and compressed into a block. The blocks are shredded into tiny pieces, which are washed and melted, so they become the raw materials that can be used again. Bottle Three is ready to be reborn, as something new.

So, what can you do? First - reduce your use of plastic altogether! And when you do find yourself needing to buy a bottle, don’t forget to recycle it. You’ll be doing Planet Earth a great, big favor.

From the TED-Ed Lesson What really happens to the plastic you throw away - Emma Bryce

Animation by Sharon Colman Graham

Witchy Real Talk: Storebought, Man-Made, and “Not Powerful”

This topic comes up a lot in the witchy community. You’ll be browsing through articles about crystals and you’ll see something to the effect of “this citrine is laboratory grown! It doesn’t have any magickal properties! It has to be naturally grown for it to be worth anything in witchcraft!” And it’s not just citrine. I’ve seen this with amethyst, quartz (and not just clear quartz - the same arguments keep being made in regards to titanium quartz, aura quartz, et cetera), and even resin castings. Resin castings!

So… why am I writing this article? Because I’m a witch who attempts to live frugally who uses crystals and herbs and spices on a regular basis in my magics. And honestly, when it comes to magic, the most important part of what makes your spells tick is the relationship between intuition and intent. To see many witches bashing lab-grown crystals or spices kept in plastic containers honestly irks me just a little, and for a couple of reasons.

First, there’s the fact that there’s just a little bit of hypocrisy involved. Glass is man-made. Sure, it can happen naturally in the wild, but glass jars don’t form where lightning strikes silica rich sand. However, a good point can be made when it comes to the fact that plastic is more harmful to the environment. I can understand and relate to that. But what makes glass such an ideal container is that it is magically neutral, like clear quartz. You can cleanse it and charge it without any worry of it affecting your energy. Plastic, for many witches, has no magical significance. It’s not going to influence your magic, and honestly it can be cleansed just like glass.

So if you’re a new witch browsing through spices and herbs, feeling a bit dejected because the glass jar herbs are two to three times more expensive than the plastic containers, go for the plastic. Remember to recycle the containers, of course, but there is no reason magic should require you to spend an arm and a leg.

Sorry, couldn’t resist the pic after that… FMA fans get what I mean…

Crystals are even more of a source for contention when it comes to man-made objects. But what bothers me here is the fact that some crystals - especially citrine - are lab grown a good majority of the time. This is because the citrine we often find in crystal shops and metaphysical stores are vibrantly colored when naturally occurring citrine crystals are a lot less vibrant most of the time. Many witches also warn against dyed crystals for the same reason that “it has less power.”

Honestly, lab-grown crystals have many of the same properties as their natural counterparts. The only thing they lack (aside from the high prices of natural crystal) is the thousands of years worth of growing time in the earth’s crust. But I personally don’t see this as too much of a problem because this gives you a crystal which is a little more flexible and can be nurtured by the witch to realize its potential.

Where I see the danger in lab-grown and dyed crystals is if the witch is being scammed. Seeing that lovely piece of turquoise and buying it only to realize that it’s a different stone entirely, dyed to look like turquoise. Or when the witch is told that a crystal is naturally vibrant in color when it has been dyed, forcing her to spend her other arm and leg just to buy it.

What I’m getting at in this rant is that if you’re a new witch or a witch who’s trying not to spend all of her money, you should not feel railroaded into buying expensive materials. I have on my altar a citrine crystal that I know is most certainly dyed. I spent less than $5 on him because I felt that was a reasonable price for him. I have a piece of amethyst whose coloration is a bit drab and brown. That natural coloration makes her rather beautiful, but doesn’t make her any more powerful than the other amethyst I have whose color is a deep purple which I know to be enhanced by dyes.

In my pantry and cupboard, I keep a lot of spices in plastic containers and tins. Yes, some of them are in glass, but only when I know I can afford them or if there aren’t any alternatives. I use these spices in spells and cooking both, and feel no difference in energy between the two.

One of my coworkers who has an interest in crystal healing once said it rather perfectly. “It’s just a rock. It’s not going to do anything by itself. You have to give it the energy. You have to program it and direct it. So it doesn’t matter if it’s natural or not.”

Our crystals do have voices. They do interact with us. But it is up to us to direct energy into, through and from them.

Now, am I bashing the more expensive alternatives? Not at all. I have a lot of glass jars that I’ve collected over the years, and I have quite a few crystals that are a bit higher up on the price range than I usually spend. I’d be quite the hypocrite if I were bashing them. My ultimate point is that if you can’t drop that much money, then don’t. Work with what you have, or with alternatives which speak to you. I’d love to work with peridot, but because I don’t have the money to drop on it, I’ll stick to quartz, moonstone, and salt. There are always options. Don’t let yourself be limited!

Blessed Be! )O(


Gifts for Gardeners

#46: A Pocket Vertical Garden

Usually made from a recycled geotextile, fabric planters are the easiest way to make an indoor or outdoor ‘green wall’ on a budget.

Look for an option with a waterproof back, so watering doesn’t do damage to the surface on which the garden hangs.

Images: Gino’s Family, cmsGardens

Creepypasta #1044: Spencer's Last Prank

Length: Long

My coworkers liked stupid pranks.

I worked in a shitty clothing store in the local mall. It’s the kind of place that hires high schoolers and, over the summer, college kids. It’s minimum wage, so our employers didn’t expect much. Honestly, they just hoped we didn’t come in drunk. Hell, if our eyes were a little red, they’d look the other way, if you know what I mean. 

Which is why the pranks continued for so long. It started out small. Jumping out from behind doors. Hiding in clothing racks. Prank calling the store on days off. It was funny and petty and stupid.

That’s the key word again – stupid.

It was my coworker, Spencer. He’s the reason the pranking eventually came to an end about six months ago. And the reason that I eventually quit my job.

See, none of us were exactly rocket scientists. Most of us were a little dumb for the sole fact that we were teenagers. But Spencer was dumber than the rest of us. I mean, that kid was a few eggs short of a dozen. Not college material and probably would never move away from our hometown. But we liked him just the same. He was good for a laugh.

But, God… he took it too far.

It happened on Tuesday. I was working from three to nine, which meant I was on closing duty. I mopped the storefront, cleaned the windows, took out the trash and threw the cardboard boxes from inventory into the cardboard compactor. I locked up and did a quick inventory check. Most importantly, I did it all by myself.

See, Spencer was supposed to be working with me. He was supposed to come in at noon and leave at eight. It’s not uncommon for someone to close alone, but usually there’s another person there for part of the evening. It makes finishing closing duties easier. I can’t take out the trash while I’m helping customers, you know.

He’d been there when I came in at two, but at some point he’d left without letting me know and without clocking out. I was pretty irritated – I wondered if maybe he was playing some kind of joke on me. Spencer wasn’t the type to think things through – he might very well have thought that abandoning me on the night shift would be hilarious.

I called Spencer but didn’t get an answer. I called my manager and let her know that Spencer had ducked out on me. I expected Spencer to return my call or at least text, but he didn’t. The next time I worked – two days later – I asked my manager, but she hadn’t heard from Spencer either.

Now, Spencer might not be the brightest bulb in the box, and yes, sometimes he forgets his schedule or messes up and doesn’t come in for a shift. But he isn’t the kind to just shirk his responsibilities. If he misses work, he accepts the blame for it and makes it up to his coworkers. He doesn’t make excuses and it doesn’t happen often. That’s why none of us employees really have a problem with him. So the fact that he was completely MIA left me a bit confused. If he’d left me there as a joke, he would have confessed to it by now. He wouldn’t have stopped coming in to work entirely.

I didn’t get worried until the next week when Spencer’s mother officially filed a Missing Persons report.

She came into the store to talk to the manager. I saw them disappear into the office – which is really just a cramped closet in the back room with a dusty old desktop computer – and could barely make myself focus until they came back out. Mrs. Damson – that is to say, Spencer’s mom – had tears in her eyes. I heard my manager, Kelly, assure her that they’d check the security footage. Then, Kelly asked me to come to the back office. She’d never done that before.

It turns out that I was the last person to see Spencer before he went missing.

At least, the last known person. His mother had seen him at the house before he went to work that Tuesday. He’d never come home. Spencer had been working with me and only me – Tuesdays are slow and Kelly had been busy along with the rest of the managers, so there’d been no manager present. The last time I remembered seeing Spencer was around four-thirty when he’d gone to use the employee restroom in the back. That’s the last anyone had heard of him.

I told Kelly what I remembered and she told me she was going to try to get her hands on the security footage. Most likely, Spencer had just high-tailed it with some of his buddies. Impromptu road trip or something, hell if I know. Kelly assured me over and over that the most likely scenario was that Spencer was completely fine and had just done something unexpected… unexpected and stupid, but then again, this was Spencer we were talking about. Stupid was implied.

I let that placate me for the most part, although I was still nervous the rest of the night. I managed to distract myself for most of the next day, playing video games with a few buddies. It wasn’t until mid-evening when I got a call from Kelly.

“Hey, Conner, can you come to my apartment? There’s… something I want to talk to you about.”

Keep reading

Recycling old glass bottles and containers: A practical guide.

I never see any posts about recycling glass containers. This how I personally prep my containers for magic/water collecting use:

  • Vegetable oil (or any kind of Oil you have laying around)
  • Rubbing Alcohol 
  • Sponge
  • Dish Soap (that cuts grease)
  • Kitchen Sink 
  • A piece of plastic that’s hard and flat for scraping  (optional)

First place your container in the kitchen sink and rub it liberally with with oil to soften any labels or sticky adhesive. Grab a piece of plastic or even your fingernail and use it to gently scrape off any paper or residue. Repeat oil and scraping steps until container looks clean. Next wash your container with Dish soap and warm water. Once it’s thoroughly clean set it to the side to dry. Finally take a bit of rubbing alcohol to disinfect the bottle to make sure it’s free from any bacteria.

General Tips:

* Use bottles with plastic screw tops if you plan on storing water for an extended period of time. Ditto if you plan on keeping the container in a moist place (such as a shower or the outdoors). Anything with a metal top or metal cage WILL rust. Trust me, I learned the hard way.

Here’s an example of a container I use for my bathtime glamour soap.

This is an old spice container with a plastic screw on lid. Completely waterproof and it keeps my tub rust free.

* Rubbing Alcohol is a fantastic way to disinfect and will kill nasty bacteria so this way you won’t have to worry about mildew/mold growing in your bottle and will keep your bottle contents “fresher” longer.

On the subject of shitty cinema goers and their trash. “View” in the UK actually put messages up saying please leave all your trash in your seats or on the ground so our staff can recycle it. But we never had any recycling bins. Food waste, containers, packets, everything just goes in one big bag then that goes in the same dumpster about five other places in the mall use. And same with the bins in the foyer that has different compartments for different types of trash. We just take all the bags and put them in the same dumpster. It used to really piss me off at how much extra work they made us do just so they could appear to be complying with recycling laws but never actually did.

anonymous asked:

give us those kiwi-kitty-harry deets. xx

Oh boy, oh boy, I love you. @permanentcross gets half the credit for this, by the way. It was a combined effort that nearly made me spontaneously combust last night. Here’s the picture again for reference:

You would text the picture to Harry and he’d be all about it, sending you back “!!!” as an immediate response. You’d laugh because it’s rare he texts you back right away unless he’s the one to initiate the conversation, so when he gets home that night, he starts calling you Kiwi Butt and yeah, okay, you love it.

Weeks later, he’s still calling you Kiwi Butt, and he’s even made it the picture on his lockscreen (which you’re kind of miffed about because it was a candid of the two of you, but you can’t really get mad at him). 

The two of you decide to sip on some tequila one evening after you’ve ordered Chinese takeout. He’d gone to recycle the empty containers a few minutes ago, so you’d busied yourself with examining your split ends - a task that wasn’t too easy, considering your state of intoxication. 

“Babe!” he calls from the kitchen. “Babe!” 

You hop up from the couch and slide across the hardwood floors into your kitchen, stopping when you reach Harry at the fridge. 

“Who am I?” he asks. “Guess!”

He’s got a kiwi in each hand and they’re placed at his hips as he keeps his back turned to you. You notice a small, oval-shaped sticker in the middle of his bum as he wiggles impatiently as you take in the image in front of you.

“’m Kiwi Kitty! ‘Member?!”

You erupt with laughter as he continues to sway his hips while he glances over his shoulder to watch your reaction. He stumbles a bit, his balance thrown off by the tequila over ice he’d consumed throughout the evening. You stabilize him with your hands at his sides, swooping around to the front of him with your cheeks burning and eyes filled with tears of laughter.

“You’re such a good Kiwi Kitty,” you praise, kissing him square on the lips. “I’m so proud of you!”

And you can tell - based on the dimples etched into his cheeks - that he’s pretty damn proud of himself, too.

Like A Stone Pt.1

Originally posted by annawood

Pope Cody x Reader

Contains mentions of drug use.

On a cobweb afternoon
In a room full of emptiness
By a freeway I confess
I was lost in the pages
Of a book full of death
Reading how we’ll die alone
And if we’re good, we’ll lay to rest
Anywhere we want to go

Y/N heard the door to her apartment close as Pope left to meet up with his brothers. She gave it a few minutes before locking herself in the bathroom, secret stash in hand. Although Y/N was a heavy drug user growing up, she slowed down once she met Pope. It was mostly coke and weed, and even then it was mostly weed out of the two, but there were times when she dabbled in the more taboo drugs. Pope obviously didn’t mind the coke, or the pot, but he sure as hell had a problem with what she was about to do, which is why she did it when he was out of the apartment.

Y/N ran hot water in the tub, the sound of the rushing water masking the taps she made in her stash container -a recycled powder foundation compact she had cleaned out that had a hidden compartment for the powder sponge-, crushing the ice that sat tightly locked away before making two neat lines on the counter top. Meth was as dirty of a drug as it sounds. One bump, and you’re taken on a ride with effects that could last for days. It was a hell of an upper, that was for sure.

If she was lucky, Pope wouldn’t show up anytime soon.

Keep reading