…or “paper,” as Baby Brother says. (Trust me, you can just about see the air quotes when he says it. I don’t know why he even bothers to react to anything I do. He’s never going to understand me.)
So, as a former environmental biology major, you’d assume that recycling was pretty important to me. It is. But the town I live in doesn’t happen to have recycling. (I know, right? Where is this, Mars?) Before I had the stroke, I had really gotten into recycling everything I could, and had even started making paper. Then things got severely derailed in my life for a significant chunk of time, and I forgot about it, but I kept the stuff to make it.
So now, almost three years later, when I’m about to move back into my own apartment, I plan to do everything I can as far as recycling goes. To that end, I’ve been saving all of my scrap paper and junk mail so I can use it to make my own paper.
This is the stage of my current batch:
And this is my “stash”:
Yes, my paper is round. Right now. No, I don’t know what I’m going to make with the paper. I’m not exactly crafty. At all. Like, crafts always sound great and look so intriguing, but in reality, I’d totally end up as one of those Pinterest-fails people.
I’m thinking some kind of bound and personalized notebooks (if you know me in real life, don’t read this). Any suggestions out there?