At this time of year I don’t often venture out on my roof terrace except to occasionally attend to my worm compost bin.  This is a complicated, fairly athletic procedure involving me climbing up a steep ladder and crossing onto my next door neighbour’s roof, balancing a slop bucket full of kitchen waste.
 
I must admit I’ve been neglecting the worms recently as it’s such a performance, plus the worm bin is quite overloaded and I’m terrified it will topple over and annoy my soignée neighbours. This would be very bad news as I don’t want them to oppose my incredibly high tech sounding plans for wind turbines, rainwater harvesting systems and solar panels.  I’m determined to get my wind turbine up before David Cameron’s, and so far their have been no neighbourly objections, but a shed load of worms crawling over their roof might make them reconsider.  
 
Anyway, yesterday I had a load of coffee grounds and tea leaves that I thought might stimulate my worms into caffeine induced activity.  I was slipping about on the soaking wet patio with the slop bucket when it occurred to me that it was still being automatically self watered morning and night at summer levels and I had no idea how to turn it down, or off.  I know it has been dry recently but I definitely don’t need to use this much water.
 
I admitted this to a green minded friend, shocking him further when I confessed to having a shower in the morning and a bath at night.  
 
`People are becoming paranoid about personal hygiene!’ he spluttered.  `Water is one of the earths’ most valuable commodities and it’s being used as a faux spiritual therapy.  It’s outrageous that we are exporting our extravagant and wasteful water systems to the third world instead of teaching them simple water saving techniques’.
 
He explained that he and his family all bathe together to save water and it’s wonderful. Ugh!  
 
My flat is already in danger of becoming some sort of middle-aged youth hostel, with air stewardesses, boyfriends and neighbours endlessly dropping in.  The thought of us all sharing baths too is too awful for words - the bathroom is the only place I can get away from them all, in fact I’m working in it right now.  
 
Still I take his point and I celebrated World Water Day on February 2 (what do you mean you missed it?) by implementing some water avoidance strategies.  
 
The plumber fitted spray mesh onto all my taps which has reduced my water usage significantly.  For example, the average person might use 5 litres of water to rinse their hands but with a spray tap this is now reduced to 1 litre.  
 
He is also building a rainwater harvester which will collect rainwater for me to water the patio and flush my loo with.
 
40,000 litres of rainwater falls off our roofs and drains away, only to be expensively turned into drinking water.  This `grey water’ can so easily be caught and used to flush loos and water gardens with.
 
I’m also in the process of replacing an old lavatory with a triple flush one that has the option of using 2, 4 or 6 litres of water.  
 
Last month was the driest January for thirty years and we are currently experiencing one of the driest periods on record.  Many of our reservoirs are down to half their normal levels and The Environment Agency has even given Thames Water a drought permit to suck out extra water from rivers and lakes to the detriment of birds, plants and fish.  
 
Seeing the link between my water profligacy and the needless suffering of wildlife is the incentive I need to cut back.  
 
I’ve just had an idea.  I don’t want to share anyone else’s bath water, but I’m sure my flatmates won’t mind using mine.  A landlady has got to have some rights - greenness is next to godliness after all.  
 
For more of my Independent Green Goddess columns
findarticles.com
and

www.independent.co.uk