Greeny McDreamy

I went to a green conference today for work. It was pretty good. The best thing about it was Josh Bernstein - he's like Ray Mears only tall, dark, handsome, charismatic, rugged, articulate, tan...ahem, anyway, as I was saying, he made some very valid points and let's just say that when he asks you to save the planet you say 'ooh Josh, of course I will'.

He's going to be having his own show on Discovery soon in which he goes around living wiht the Inuit and suchlike checking out how badly we've messed the world up (much more severely than the media have even told us apparently - i.e. really really really badly).

In between swooning (not only gorgeous but trying to save the planet!) and nodding furiously at all his points (knowledgable, too!), I felt familiar pangs of guilt surfacing. No, not because I was being mentally unfaithful to the hubby (I wasn't anyway, honest) but because although I'm doing ok, green-wise, I have lately been committing some eco-sins I just know Josh wouldn't approve of - some of them smallish - not collecting compost during the week to take upstate - and some of them really big - last weekend we filled a skip with junk the previous owner left in the barn, none of it obviously useful (or indeed recognizable), but why did I not figure out a way to dispose of it sustainably? Lack of time, but is that a good enough excuse? No. Really not. I am useless and a hypocrite to boot. Ugh.

Actually, you know what? It was the hubby who ordered that skip, and filled it. I bet Josh wouldn't have done that. And if I was married to Josh, I bet I'd be collecting compost during the week, driving a hybrid (or a bicycle), growing vegetables, painting with low VOC paint, campaigning outside KC's headquarters...

You know, if every woman had a Josh Bernstein in her life, I bet you the world would be a much greener place. Wonder if we could clone and distribute him to the women of America?