7gen Bloc

(Note: this is the third entry in my series of posts about the personal pollution that simply living in the modern world has left inside my body.

When it comes to confusion about recycling, I want to say one word to you. Just one word. Plastics. Mr. McGuire: I want to say one word to you. Just one word. Benjamin: Yes, sir. Mr. McGuire: Are you listening? Benjamin: Yes, I am. Mr. McGuire: Plastics. Benjamin: Just how do you mean that, sir?

In a recent post, I talked about body burdens, the total accumulation inside each of us of the many pollutants and chemicals we have encountered and absorbed simply by living in the modern world.

David Bowie's song, Changes, is the main soundtrack of my life these days. Not the entire song but the chorus. I am 5 months into my first pregnancy, and every day I experience something new.

Right now in my house, we're doing what I suspect many Nation members are doing in this recessionary year: When it comes to back-to-school prep, we're reusing and repurposing what we can. And we're filling in the supply gaps with some judicious green buying that will let our daughter tread lightly on the earth when she walks into her 6th grade classroom.

We are pleased to announce that our 2008 CC Report is complete and ready for your review. We are happy to report great progress in becoming more "sustainable" in 2008. We invite you to take some time and review the report.

When you haven't lived your whole life as a treehugger, it can be hard to explain to friends and family members why you're so concerned about the environment all of a sudden.

It's crazy how quickly our kids grow up. I feel like a just brought my daughter home from the hospital yesterday, and already she is turning four. Our busy lives left us little time to plan a get-together for her birthday, so we wound up hosting a small, intimate, and very inadvertently green party. Here's how we did it, and how you can do the same: 1. Plan around an experience rather than gifts

In the summer of my 16th year, I ascended to the lofty heights of full-fledged sun goddess. After years in training, including hours of swim team practice in our suburban pool, I climbed the stairs to my throne -- a lifeguard stand -- wearing the prerequisite orange Speedo tank, silver whistle, dark aviators, and, of course, a liberal coating of baby oil. My nose and chest burned those first few days, but who cared?

Life in the modern world may be filled with toxic hot spots, but at least playgrounds aren't one of them. Or are they?