Pears, spinach…sure, no pathogens there, right? Just because there weren’t animal products in the bag doesn’t mean there aren’t bacteria or other toxins left behind to grow.

I use containers whenever possible, because those can be properly disinfected in the dishwasher.

Obviously you’ve lived this long without dying from eating leftovers from a pre-washed Ziploc!  It’s just an interesting factoid I learned and wanted to share, in case it mattered to you.  I’m probably more sensitive to infection than you…chemo, and all…so it makes sense that I would be more careful than the average Joe.

It’s sand, it’s used to being outdoors, I don’t understand why he is bringing it inside for the winter in the first place.

The articles on BoingBoing above and below this story are about Nelly being arrested for smuggling heroin, a peanut butter ad, video game tights, and a Lego bat cave.

What about those who have lost family members due to drugs, who have children with life threatening peanut allergies, soldiers who have had legs crippled in our wars overseas, or victims of mining accidents trapped underground? Should we not also censor these articles so as to not offend anyone?

If you’re a psychotherapist, then you should know that the OCD joke is funny because it’s true. A *lot* of people can relate to it.

Boingers are irreverant, but rarely mean to offend, and if they do, intentionally or unintentionally, they find their comments removed.

Apparently the plastic in those bags is so porous that no amount of hot water and soap will get them clean enough to guarantee you’re not passing bacteria to the next batch of food.  As hard as it is to contemplate — heck, I’ve composted for decades and I live in a major city — throwing them out might be a necessary evil for your health.

That is, so you can use it for traction on slippery walkways around your house.  Conveniently packed in individual handy containers.  A pile of sand sitting outside would freeze into a solid, undiggable mass.  A pile sitting inside would track dirt and grit everywhere, ruining your floors and carpets.

Actually, it’s a pretty good idea!

A friend and I used to giggle at some of her “silly” ways, like unrolling and checking the socks she’d just ironed and rolled up to make sure they hadn’t got creased while she rolled them up. When she eventually had to check the cooker switches so often, before going out, that she couldn’t actually go out, she phoned the doctor and screamed for help.

It was a long, hard, several-years road of medication and counselling (some of which screwed her up even worse), and during it she had to be a single mother to three children as well.  She couldn’t cope, but she had to cope. It’s a couple of decades ago now. Laugh at it? She doesn’t like to even think about it.

Despite all the useful stuff it carries, I gave up following Lifehacker because it often made me wonder how much OCD it triggers. Who the hell cares about saving a few seconds folding towels, or whether the bed is made to military specifications? That stuff is dangerous to some.

Well, I guess I’m going to giggle at some of the rest of the comments too, but no, I’m not going to forget what OCD really is.

That was my wife’s grandparents’ motto. They kept everything. The ceiling of his basement was covered with baby food jars — mail the lid up, and keep small hardware or whatnot in the jar. They used to have a bunch of old condom boxes, when my mother in law asked what came in them they would tell her ‘little screws’.

This behaviour, at least in my immediate fam was passed from my mom’s mom to my mom , and from my mom’s mom to me — I didn’t really get if from my mom. Passed to my sibs too. My brother is three years younger than me — but our sister is 19 years younger than me (same ‘rents) – this Depression Era practice was personally passed from my grandma to three generations (she lived into her 90s.)

However – with my grandma (aleha ha-shalom), who came of age during the Great Depression and Prohibition, the reuse/saving behaviour edged into the realm of pathology, hoarding, you know. With me, my siblings and my mom, I think it’s attenuated – it’s useful. 

My dad – he likes to throw shit and non-shit away. It’s a problem. Great source of intrigue was making sure he wasn’t tossing stuff out. My dad is older than my mom by about three years (‘rents WWII babies, not exactly boomers), but the Great Depression ended when my dad’s mom was, like, nine years old. She doesn’t think before she throws stuff out.

I don’t save and wash plastic bags that the bread came in, like my grandmother did (born in late 1890′s), and I don’t save the bread closures thingys like my mother did (was in her teens during WWII) when I was a child. But I do save elastics and twist ties.

Hard times do leave their marks at least a generation or two.