Category Archives: Ann Arbor
Some ground rules: I’ve committed to collecting every piece of trashable, recyclable, or compostable waste I generate for a full week.
Two important facts: first, there are two doors leading into this bathroom, one from the hallway and one from my housemate’s bedroom. Second, a deadbolt on the bathroom-hallway door allows it to be locked from the inside.
I went vegetarian almost six years ago. It started as a refusal to put my money into the meat industry and, once I lost the taste for burgers and sausages, it turned into a permanent habit.
I decided to put my money where my mouth has been since I started touting the importance of small-scale local agriculture six years ago.
Reaching through the grated door, I run a fingertip along the tiny white foreleg of a tiny white lamb curled on the straw inside. He slid into the world less than a week ago beside his glossy black sister.
Since moving to Ann Arbor, I’ve encountered more panhandlers in two years than I’d seen in the preceding twenty-three. And every time, no matter how bedraggled or desperate they appear, I always truck right past.
By mindlessly pitching organic material into the garbage can, I’ve ever-so-slightly interrupted the cycle that sustains life on this planet: when one organism dies, its molecules get broken down and rebuilt into the next generation of organisms.
What if a Christian politician actually gave a Christian answer to the refugee question? Yes, the refugees are dusty and tired. Yes, they are desperate. Yes, we will let them in.
I raise a wistful glass to the days when neighborhood paper routes provided a bicycle-mounted kid’s first taste of financial independence.