The Invention of Rubbish, and a note on the Feis
Posted: Wednesday, 25 July 2007 |
All this talk of the islands' ecology and conservation leads me to a note from a friend just yesterday who - quite rightly in my opinion - pointed out that rubbish was not really invented in the Islands (Lewis certainly) until the 1960s.
The average croft house would generate very little material that we would today consider to be routine, disposal rubbish. Butter came in reusable (multi-use!) greased paper not the metal papers or plastic tubs of today, bread came in its own crust, tinned food was rare, milk in a pail from the cow, eggs fresh from a hen; fish in old newspaper or just in its birthday suit.
There was also that common ailment - crofter hoarding syndrome. This required the sufferer to store indefinetly anything that might in future be of use either in its own right or as a handy material for an improvised repair of something otherwise totally unrelated. This syndrome also provided a useful manner in which to recycle / reuse the little non-burnable / non-biodegradable rubbish that the croft house did generate (tins / jars etc).
Having recently empty an old croft shed of its contents (most of which was patently so useable that it went straight back on the shelf), the scale of the illness was for some sufferers, unimaginable. Everything that came into the house could have another life.
It is sad also to report that the growth of rubbish - especially food packaging - has coincided with a decline in the general quality of the nation's diet. We really are being taken for a disasterous ride by the mass-market food producers - and paying for it as it well!
Before the days of the wheelie bin and the fornightly collection, the unusable / unburnable rubbish was general disposed of in a makeshift 'dump' at some redundant place on the croft or nearby - often a disused peatbank or peat bog that would mysteriously devour the little rubbish there was - a kind of smallscale domestic landfill. Not perhaps the most eco-firendly solution but scale is the key to all of this, it was all on such a small scale.
The carbon footprint of our contemporary rubbish mountain is, in contrast nothing short of shameful. Like my previous mailing to this blog, it is difficult to comprehend how in such a short space of time all of this distructive change has happened to a way of life that was just that short time ago an unconsciously (relatively) eco-friendly and relatively sustainable manner of existence.
I don't want to pretend that everything in the crofters garden was eco-rosy - far from it in many ways - but the answers to many of our environemntal problems (think of those suffering in the eye of the climate change storm just now) may be right under our noses.
On a more cheery note - Peatstack took this picture (below) of the start of the Feis (Lewis - Stornoway, Monday last) March. Peatstack Jnr (aka rudhan) is again a participant this year. How good it was to hear children conversing happily, fluently and willingly in Gaidhlig on the streets of Stornoway - and congrats and thanks to all those who work hard to make the Feis happen every year.
The average croft house would generate very little material that we would today consider to be routine, disposal rubbish. Butter came in reusable (multi-use!) greased paper not the metal papers or plastic tubs of today, bread came in its own crust, tinned food was rare, milk in a pail from the cow, eggs fresh from a hen; fish in old newspaper or just in its birthday suit.
There was also that common ailment - crofter hoarding syndrome. This required the sufferer to store indefinetly anything that might in future be of use either in its own right or as a handy material for an improvised repair of something otherwise totally unrelated. This syndrome also provided a useful manner in which to recycle / reuse the little non-burnable / non-biodegradable rubbish that the croft house did generate (tins / jars etc).
Having recently empty an old croft shed of its contents (most of which was patently so useable that it went straight back on the shelf), the scale of the illness was for some sufferers, unimaginable. Everything that came into the house could have another life.
It is sad also to report that the growth of rubbish - especially food packaging - has coincided with a decline in the general quality of the nation's diet. We really are being taken for a disasterous ride by the mass-market food producers - and paying for it as it well!
Before the days of the wheelie bin and the fornightly collection, the unusable / unburnable rubbish was general disposed of in a makeshift 'dump' at some redundant place on the croft or nearby - often a disused peatbank or peat bog that would mysteriously devour the little rubbish there was - a kind of smallscale domestic landfill. Not perhaps the most eco-firendly solution but scale is the key to all of this, it was all on such a small scale.
The carbon footprint of our contemporary rubbish mountain is, in contrast nothing short of shameful. Like my previous mailing to this blog, it is difficult to comprehend how in such a short space of time all of this distructive change has happened to a way of life that was just that short time ago an unconsciously (relatively) eco-friendly and relatively sustainable manner of existence.
I don't want to pretend that everything in the crofters garden was eco-rosy - far from it in many ways - but the answers to many of our environemntal problems (think of those suffering in the eye of the climate change storm just now) may be right under our noses.
On a more cheery note - Peatstack took this picture (below) of the start of the Feis (Lewis - Stornoway, Monday last) March. Peatstack Jnr (aka rudhan) is again a participant this year. How good it was to hear children conversing happily, fluently and willingly in Gaidhlig on the streets of Stornoway - and congrats and thanks to all those who work hard to make the Feis happen every year.
Comments
great blog, and brought back a lot of memories for me re recycling (which never used to have a name either). I remember butter in greased paper and loaves you`d to cut your own self. I make my own a lot of the time and we`ve noticed too, that even though less ingredients than a shop bought loaf go into it, it lasts longer than the shop loaf which often goes mouldy before the sell by date!!
Hermit from Sanday
i agree hermit: since meeting man with the magic fingertips and spending time in nz with him,i've changed my eating habits a lot!! he buys a lovely big brown organic bread made with quinoa and it keeps for over a week no problem and me that normally hates bread really enjoys it-
carol from over here
A lot that I agree with. I am by nature an inveterate hoarder of inconsidered trifles but, and it is a big but, as the greeks said, "Moderation in all things." I too remember the less than ideal disposal of the final remnants which became rubbish. Geos full of the last remains of cars and crofting machinery. the bonfires of less than salubrious output. We have to conserve but i suspect that we have to find ways to make ourselves do it.
Hyper-Borean from The Attic
I hurriedly wrote a few lines last year when we were given bins for our organic waste, along with our normal ones, so I thought I'd share them. Sgìth den Sgudal Chan fhaod sinn nis ar sgudal fhìn a chuir a-mach mar b’àbhaist; Na rudan eadar-dhealaichte, a bhi leo fhèin a’màilead. Tha bucas beag againn airson “organics” gus an cnàmh iad; Chan fhaod sinn plastaig a chuir ann, no ola dhubh no plàsdar. Tha duilleagan is luath dol ann, rùsgan shnèap ‘s buntàta, Paipear de gach seòrsa, gheibh thu sgaipt’ air feadh an àite; Cnodhan is na sligean ac’, cnàmh chan fheumar fhàgail; Is gearraidhean bho’n fhalt agad; Òbh, Òbh, mo chreach ‘sa thàinig! Faodaidh tu an àirneis agus gach seann chamara, Catraisd bho’n chompuitear a thoirt gu bùithtean charthannais. Taidhrichean ‘s mar sin air adhart a chuir gu Dennis Bhradhagair; ‘S a’ghuga chòir, ma fhuair thu tè, a ruaigeadh gu Rudh’ Robhanais. Nach mòr an caochladh th’ann a-nis ri cùisean mar a b’ àbhaist; Nuair bha an todhar anns gach linn dha chuir air talamh àitich; Na “screwtops” air an tilgeil as, gu tric air cùl a’bhàthaich; Is sprùileach thuiteadh bhon a’bhòrd ga ith’ aig coin an àite. Na faiceadh nis mo sheanair mi, cuir sgudal an cùl làraidh; Saolaidh mi gum biodh e cràidht’ gu robh mo chiall’s air m’fhàgail; Ach le prìs an dìosail a’dol suas, thig nithean cus nas àraid; Chan fhaicear làraidh air an t-sràid, bidh an sgudal air muin càmhal.
jumblue from Taigh an Albhain
Enjoyable post.I can remember those times when very little was wasted, everything had many uses.Ah yes! the days when bins were small,and had loads of fire ash in them.
dusty bin from at the kerbside
Surely the fire ash should have gone on the compost heap/midden?
Flying Cat from a scented garden
RSS Feed