A lesson from the compost bin had Laura Fay brewing tea and realizations.
I developed my tea drinking habit while growing up in Ireland. The shrill of the kettle, the ‘scalding’ of the tea pot, and the pretty tea-cozies, were the comforting fabric of our daily lives.
Recently however, this sense of comfort was replaced with a feeling of stress and anxiety. It all started with my 93-year-old dad explaining how he was having trouble with his backyard compost – his tea bags were not decomposing as he’d expected.
As we enjoyed a cup of tea together, I recalled a recent article I’d read about plastics infiltrating unexpected corners of our lives, and most alarming of all, plastics infiltrating our bodies. My curiosity was piqued as I scrutinized the tea packaging. There, in tiny print, amidst the flowery marketing jargon, it jumped out at me: “Bags made with a blend of paper and polypropylene fibers for enhanced strength and durability.”
A wave of dismay washed over me as I contemplated the implications. How long had I been consuming these micro-plastic pollutants? I was shattered, and felt betrayed by a product I had trusted to provide comfort without consequence.