A little less evil in the world this morning

Something magical and wonderful has happened in San Jose of all places. Yes, I know San Francisco banned plastic bags a while back, but that sort of action is expected from them, despite their unforgivable sinfulness. Marin is going for it, too. One county and city at a time, I guess.

I actually have a lot of plastic bags in my house right now, on purpose, since I learned how to crochet them into durable, reusable bags from a crafter/teacher in Redwood City. I saw these bags at the county fair over the summer and was so blown away, now I'm trying to collect the bags that are crochet-able and get more people to learn the craft.

Of course, all the crocheters in the world won't get a hold of the billions of plastic bags circulating, polluting land and water, threatening animals of all kinds and using petroleum. So hooray for places like San Jose and Marin. Until then, try making some plarn! And send me your plastic bags. I'm really hoping to get some of those big, bright red Target bags...

(At right is my first attempt at one of these bags; I still need to figure out how to do handles. And yes, it's a bit small; the lego man is there for perspective.)

Our new abode

Let's review, shall we?

When we first walked through the house after the start of the lease, we made several discoveries: One of the furnaces (the one that heats the first floor) was busted. There was a giant pile of termite droppings in one room, which led to the discovery of half the living being termite-devoured. Then there was the overflowing toilet (which was actually the fault of and taken care of by West Bay Sanitary, but still). And then there's the toilet that slowly leaks (not onto the floor, but somewhere in the tank, surely wasting gallons of water a day). I'm sure I'm forgetting something.

Then this morning, Nathan discovered The Drip. In the guest room/sewing-crafting-scrapbooking room. Victims included the newspapers I was saving from the day Noah was born to put in his baby book. If actual scrapbooks had been soaked, I would have been on a plane to New York to personally punch our landlord.

So if you ever rent a house, hire an inspector. You're welcome.