Teflon, Dune and hood ornaments

in Skewed by

Finally, a weekend and sunshine hung out together. It was novel and glorious. No sooner had my pupils contracted with the bright light, when I thought of water conservation.

I’m more than a little obsessed with water – how much do we have and need, how much are we wasting, should we start hoarding? Should I start blinking less to get my eyes accustomed to working with less fluid?

I was still thinking about extreme water conservation while getting a shower. As I sudsed up with the water turned off, I thought about Dune. For those of you who read this book, you’ll know I’m talking about “stillsuits.”

Long, long walks on the beach

For the uninitiated, (or those who, like me, saw the movie without reading the book and wondered, “how in God’s name can I sit through three hours of movie and still not know what’s going on? But the worm was cool”) let me fill you in on this type of conservation.

We could be the ultimate water conservationists while we sat on our butts and sipped lemon water from our very own pores.

Characters in the desert wore stillsuits that converted all their bodies’ excess moisture into something they could drink. It was not tasty. It did not go well with scotch. But it was water and it kept them alive.

I think we could do a little better. We could attach some fruit packets and have flavoured water in our still suits. Our suits could come in different styles such as sport or formal or club. We could kick the Dune characters’ asses in form and function. Plus we could be the ultimate water conservationists while we sat on our butts and sipped lemon water from our very own pores.

Beep beep

Then I started thinking about the garden. I think I’m going to replace the whole works with sand and plant cacti and other succulents. My garden is going to look like a Bugs Bunny landscape. You’ll half expect to see Coyote and Roadrunner zipping through.

No watering, no mowing, no tending – just sand and pointy, weird-looking, water-conserving plants. I could even go Zen and make some squiggles in the sand to represent water or put a mirror in the ground to represent a pond.

When it comes to cooking, no more boiling, only roasting. If something needs liquid, I’m using beer. If I’m going to make a reduction of anything, I’ll have to figure out a way to salvage the moisture I’m extracting.

I’ll have a series of kitchen condensation scrapers. If some cutesy marketing team gets hold of this I’ll have Kitchen Kondensation Katchers or Citchen Condensation Catchers for a less vile acronym.

In all seriousness, I’d love to find a way to catch the grey water from showers and dish washing and filter it so it can make the rounds again. I’d eventually use it in the garden, but, of course, I’ll have no garden, just a beach volleyball court. If I can’t figure out a way to re-circulate my wash water, I’ll do away with it altogether and rig up some hand sanitizer to shoot out of the shower.

Cook ‘n’ Ride

So what about washing my car? I should throw in that one of the many things that endears my husband to me is that he washes his truck in the rain. No need to rinse, just put on your slicker, lather up your vehicle, and let the rain do the rest. Brilliant.

I rarely ever wash the outside of my car, so I wonder if I could get a non-stick pan company to make the body.

I rarely ever wash the outside of my car, so I wonder if I could get a non-stick pan company to make the body. Everything would just slide off – mud, bird poop, burnt cheese, oatmeal, everything. On a hot day, I could fry an egg on my hood (remember, I’m not boiling things anymore), and add some cheese and an English muffin.

Drive thru and keep going

By the time I got to my first job of the day, provided I made no sudden stops, I could have the latest in engine block breakfast sandwiches: The Hood Ornament. That would be just one of the many benefits of a car that requires no washing.

I think I’m well on my way to the Ultimate Extreme Water Conservation. I can don my business casual, lemon/lime still suit, stroll my sandy, succulent grounds, and watch the grime just bounce off my car.

I can feel good knowing the dog is drinking all the water I managed to evaporate out of my balsamic vinegar reduction.

I’m embracing a new way of living, and squeezing every drop of liquid out of it.