About every few months, my cache of writing and class supplies—pens, notepads, folders, printer paper—begins to run low, which means it’s time to visit the nearby big-box office supply store.

In months and years past, as I’ve run through thousands of pages of notebook paper and innumerable pens, I’ve developed a few personal favorites—the Pilot G2 gel pen, Office Max brand legal pads, the 6”x9” Steno Pads for reporting. But as I approached the office supplies aisle in the nearby Office Max earlier this morning, I noticed an entire section of “green,” recycled, curiously eccentric pens and notebooks and even staplers.

So, in the spirit of month of green living, I did a little investigating for my college-aged readers and myself on the new wave of eco-friendly office miscellany.

A pack of Terracycle brand, 100 percent recycled notebook dividers. Photo by Andy Kroll

The first display, from the brand Terracycle, offered pens with recycled paper casings, biodegradable pens, notebooks made of recycled paper and Chips Ahoy! Wrappers and a slew of other binders and paper dividers made out of 100 percent recycled materials.

A quick look at Terracycle’s Web site says that the company was started in 2001 by two Princeton University students, Tom Szaky and Jon Beyer, whose flagship product is a natural, organic liquid plant food made from “worm poop” and packaged in reused soda bottles. Today, the company’s product offerings range from eco-friendly firestarting logs packaged in reused two-liter bottles to natural window cleaners to pencil cases made of used Capri Sun juice boxes.

For a green-minded shopper, what’s not to like? Inevitably, the price. Whereas a box of 12 plastic Bic ballpoint pens costs as little as $2.50, a four-pack of Terracycle paper pens runs upwards of $7.99—more than three times the price. The company’s three-ring binders and notepads also cost quite a bit more than less environmentally friendly brands.

The dilemma that never ends—“green” versus green ($), environmental cost versus cash-register cost.

Fortunately, a few aisles over is the display for a few other—and cheaper—eco-friendly office supply lines. The store brand “green” products aren’t as appealing from a environmental standpoint—Terracycle’s pens are 100 percent recyclable; Office Max’s are only 72 percent—but I could be splitting hairs here, getting a bit too picky with my green goals. (Granted, after a month of trying to cut my carbon footprint, you start to pay close to attention to “eco-friendly” labels and claims.)

The brown label means recycled—and expensive. Photo by Andy Kroll

A two-pack of Zebra brand recyclable pens, I learned, costs $2.99, so even if I bought two packs I’d still end up with more money in my pocket than the Terracycle paper pens. Then again, that’s two times the packaging—and Terracycle’s products all come in recycled packaging as well. A dilemma, indeed.

While I mulled whether to fork out the extra cash in the name of being as green as possible, I checked out Office Max’s printer paper selection, figuring there would be plenty of eco-friendly choices here.

And indeed I was right, as the store’s paper selection (though I’m trying to print as little as possible nowadays) featured a wide array of options, each one color coded to indicate how much of the paper was made of recycled materials—and how much more expensive it was. 100 percent recycled “Multi-purpose Paper” runs $8.49 for 500 sheets—not all that more expensive from other less recycled options.

Against my own financial instincts (what little is left of them), I chose the expensive paper pens. Photo by Andy Kroll

In the end, however, I decided against buying any paper at all—printer paper, notepads, legal pads. I can always use the unused backsides of the various legal pads strewn throughout my room, and if I’m trying to read more online and not print as much then how could I justify buying a 500-pack of fresh paper, recycled or not?

For college students out there—and everyone else who uses office supplies for that matter—try shopping with the environment in mind next time you hit up the campus bookstore or your own local big box. You don’t have to buy a Chips Ahoy! book; a few biodegradable pens wouldn’t hurt, though.

Updates, come and get your updates! I’m already writing the post-mortem for my compost pile (in my head). When I check the heat of the pile, I see there is none; nearly every morning one of the compost box’s sides has fallen, despite my repeated stabilization efforts (I blame squirrel saboteurs); and the pile on the whole seems lifeless.

That doesn’t mean I’m giving up, however. Having talked with a couple of compost experts I know, they surmised that I tried to start the pile too early in the year—I’d have had more success starting in early or mid April, they said. C’est la vie. I’ll try to keep the pile alive until the weather warms, and maybe the sun will breath some life into it. Fingers crossed.

My compost pile on day one.

All photos by Andy Kroll

Had New Zealand’s fourth-most-popular folk parody duo, “Flight of the Conchords,” been in my backyard this morning, they would’ve agreed with me: Conditions were perfect.

Perfect, that is, for building a compost pile.

After some predictably uncooperative Michigan weather, a recent run of warm spring days finally provided an opening for me to build my planned compost pile in my backyard. So I awoke at nine this morning, pulled on some grubby gardening clothes and took to the backyard.

But before getting into my morning adventure, a quick explanation of what composting actually is, courtesy of the University of Illinois (whose composting directions I closely followed):

Composting is the biological decomposition of organic material into a humus-like substance called compost. The process occurs naturally, but can be accelerated and improved by controlling environmental factors. People may wonder, “Why bother with composting if everything organic decomposes eventually anyway?”

If raw wastes are put directly into the soil, the decomposition process will rob the soil of nitrogen, an important nutrient for plants. (Soil incorporation is one method of composting, but requires leaving the area fallow.) Finished compost from a pile is typically a more uniform product with a better balance of nutrients. It can be used throughout the growing season in many different types of applications.

With a pile, composters have more control over adding and mixing the amount of carbon and nitrogen rich materials used to make the end product. In addition, a properly controlled composting environment can ensure production of high temperatures needed for killing weed seeds, diseased plant tissue, and pathogenic organisms.

The University of Illinois’ “Building Your Compost Pile” tutorial also proved immensely helpful in building my compost pile.

Putting together the frame for my compost pile

Using the tutorial’s instructions, I began by constructing my three-side compost box to contain the pile, which was made of three perfectly sized pieces of wood I found in my basement. I dug a little bit into the ground so that the boards would hold firm once I filled the compost pile with more organic materials, soil and fertilizer.

Next, I gathered up a bunch of dry leaves from throughout the backyard and dumped them up in the compost pile area until the first layer of leaves and dead grass was about six inches high. I then dumped a layer of commercial fertilizer—one of the active ingredients in any compost pile— on top of the leaves and grass, and then poured on top of that a layer of ground soil I dug up from the backyard. Unfortunately our house lacks in the gardening and home maintenance department, so when I say “dug” I really mean using a pocket knife to carve up the grass and my hands to dig up the soil.

And the pile grows…

So at this point, I had three layers: Dried, dead leaves and grass; commercial fertilizer; and ground soil. I repeated this process two more times, so there are three layers of each stacked up in the compost pile.

Once I had finally grabbed up enough leaves and dug up enough soil, I fished around my kitchen for some food scraps—orange and banana peels, bread, apple cores. I put as many of these as I could find in a plastic tub and then dumped out the tub on top of the pile, as food scraps are an important part of the composting process.

Moving forward, what I have to do is occasionally “turn” the pile, or use a pitch fork to mix up the pile, and also make sure that the pile stays somewhat moist—“The organic material should feel damp to the touch, with just one or two drops of water expelled when squeezed tightly in the hand,” the University of Illinois tutorial advises.

And now it’s time to sit back and let nature do its work, with a little help on my part. I’ll be sure to keep you updated on how it’s coming and whether the pile is working, though I don’t hold out high hopes as I’m not much of a green thumb. Nonetheless, it’ll be a great learning experience.

The final product — day one

Every fall, millions of college students flood their campuses as they return from summer break, hauling with them clothes, computers, books, booze, furniture, televisions, microwaves — and, in most cases, their cars.

But as the popularity of car-sharing programs, like Zipcar, grows on campuses across the country, more students are leaving their own cars at home and joining a service that The New York Times Magazine said is “bent on altering the primal bond between Americans and their vehicles.”

The leading car-sharing service in the world, Zipcar, currently has cars available at 120 different schools in North America, in addition to its individual- and business-based car sharing options on its Web site.

The way Zipcar works on campus, as University of Michigan Alternative Transportation Coordinator Brian Pawlowski explained in a recent interview, is U-M students, faculty or staff first sign up for Zipcar using the University’s personalized Web page on the Zipcar site. After receiving your “Zipcard” in the mail, which acts like a credit card for the service, you go back to University’s Zipcar Web page, go to “Find Cars,” pick out a car at one of the five parking locations in Ann Arbor and reserve that Zipcar for the day and duration of time you’d like.

A window card reader in a Zipcar on the U-M’s Central Campus. Zipcar members wave their membership card by the reader to unlock a Zipcar. Photo by Andy Kroll

When the time comes to use the Zipcar, Pawlowski continued, you go to the car’s parked location (all of which are next to public bus lines in Ann Arbor, eliminating the need to drive to the Zipcar). There, you wave your Zipcard in front of a scanner on the car’s windshield, the doors unlock, the keys are inside and off you go.

Here on U-M’s campus, Pawlowski, who oversees the campus Zipcar program, said it has only grown since starting in Ann Arbor just over two years ago. Membership in the program has increased to a thousand members affiliated with U-M (that doesn’t include many other Ann Arbor residents not affiliated with U-M but who are Zipcar members), and the number of cars in the University’s Zipcar fleet has increased from six to 13, he said.

And with the membership age recently lowered to 18, Pawlowski believes even more students will join the car sharing program.

“I think it’s only gonna grow,” Pawlowski said. “Each year we reach more students that are coming to campus for the first time. We’re reaching students with orientation and fliers in the mail.”

The driving restrictions on Zipcars might dissuade some on college campuses from joining, however.

As Pawlowski said, the mileage limit for a Zipcar is 180 miles per day. Which means that a car is ideal for day trips to Lansing (65 miles one-way), to Detroit (43 miles) or to Toledo, Ohio (60 miles). Trips exceeding that 180 miles per day limit cost either $0.45 or $0.55 for each extra mile.

The cost presents another obstacle for college students, too.

For a University of Michigan student (and many other college students depending on the school), there’s a $35 annual fee to be a Zipcar member. When renting a vehicle, the cost is $8 an hour or $60 a day. Those rental rates include gas costs, as a separate Zipcar credit card (not the membership card) comes with each card and is used to pay for all gas.

Maintenance is included as well, and the types of cars available range from Ford Escapes and Mini Coopers to BMWs and Mazda 3s; in some locations, SUVs and minivans are available, too.

A Mazda 3 parked at one of the five Zipcar locations in or near the University of Michigan’s campus. Photo by Andy Kroll

Granted, a typical parking pass in a U-M lot here in Ann Arbor costs upwards of $1,000 per school year — on top of all the other costs of owning a car — so it ultimately comes down to how much a student intends to drive throughout the year.

Thomas Chan, 24, a former University of Michigan graduate student who has used Zipcar on U-M’s campus for about a year and doesn’t personally own a car, said he uses the service about once a week, to go grocery shopping or for other appointments.

For someone used to spending no money on cars at all, the service can seem “a little bit pricey” at times, Chan admitted. But when compared with paying for gas, car insurance and maintenance costs, he said he thinks Zipcar is the better choice.

And though the process of reserving and using a Zipcar is easy, he said the only inconvenience he’s encountered with the service was waiting a day or two for a car to become available.

Of course, there will always be tension over a service that encourages people to share cars and not buy them, especially in the auto-centric southeast Michigan region, home to Detroit and the Big Three automakers. Should car-sharing services continue to catch on throughout the country and the world, it would pose yet another problem for struggling car manufacturers already recording major losses due to dismal sales.

But, on the other hand, the environmental impact of Zipcar is praiseworthy.

By encouraging people to share a small fleet of cars in each city or on each campus instead of individuals driving their own cars, the company has reduced the number of cars on the road. That means decreased carbon emissions and gas consumption — both critical changes needed to reduce dangerous greenhouse gas emissions. (Zipcar estimates that each of its cars takes roughly 15 to 20 other cars off the roads, though a company press fact sheet offers no methodology for that figure.)

So will Zipcar’s car-sharing model change the way we travel? Even the way we live? The company estimates that it has 250,000 members worldwide — not an impressively large number, but it continues to grow each year as more people join the car-sharing movement. Thus, whether Zipcar’s car-sharing model becomes the norm for transportation remains to be seen.

What is for certain, though, is car sharing, despite its cost and potential inconveniences, is a significant, crucial step — leap, even — on the way to a more green, environmentally sustainable way of living.