sashinka | observation orientated, with a twist of lime | a blog

Plasticbag Nirvana
I had an obsessional desire to keep all plastic bags, because they might come in useful.

I remember when my grandma died, and we had to clear out her flat. There was drawer after drawer of neatly folded plastic bags. And cupboard after cupboard of washed jam jars. Because of The War, apparently.

Because I live in a flat and thus have limited storage space, now I have a personal rule; once my bags start overflowing from my bag-of-bags receptacle under the sink I throw them away. Terrible, I know. Perhaps now is not a great time to admit I have a cleaner (middle class, I know) but I used to have a cleaner who also cleaned for most of my friends locally, and she regularly said things like "what is it with all you Jewish people and the plastic bags?" She also said "you Jewish people, you're all very young and all very sucessful, aren't you?" (of course this was in those heady days when I had a job). I told her no, she was just seeing a very small percentage of the Jewish population. But probably a very high proportion of the plastic bags.

Anyway, once they tax us, perhaps we'll be bit more moderate about our plastic bag habit. After all, it's just a security blanket for second/third generation refugee types; my Turkish friend's parents' kitchen has more plastic bags than you can knit a tea-cosy with.