One Small Change: Staying Home

Last month, my "one small change" was to take reusable containers with us when we were out of the house.  We were very good about making sure we had not only our stainless steel water bottles or coffee cups as well as cloth bags with us--perhaps because these have been habits for years.  But this month we were much more consistent about bringing utensils, cloth napkins, and even tiffins or lunchbots with us when we went to restaurants, so we could pack away our leftovers.

This month, inspired by the Conscious Shopper, our goal is to avoid going out to restaurants at all.  For a long time we've been committed to spending the majority of our restaurant dollars at locally-owned places--but for this month, every dinner will be cooked and served at home.

This one small change will dramatically reduce our wastes, potentially reduce our waists as well, definitely lead to healthier meals, lead to a healthier pocketbook, save a bit of gasoline, and give us some extra family time to boot.

I'm a bit late getting this post up--but that simply means I've already had a week on this challenge.  Although I did have one evening where I was craving pizza and a movie, we survived on leftovers and a movie instead.  One of the keys to success seems to be to have the makings for both easy throw-together meals and meals that satisfy the foodie in me.

Although many people swear by having a fixed menu plan, I really like having a list of meals for the week, then stocking the fridge and pantry with those ingredients so we can have the flexibility to choose each afternoon or evening what we would like to prepare.

Things have been really easy for the last few days--since we've been snowed in!

We've set ourselves this challenge just for the short month of February.  We have no intention to keep ourselves completely out of restaurants after the month is over--but I want us to learn from this one small change to keep eating out special--to always be conscious of the choice rather than have it as a default when we're tired.

Carbon Diaries

In the young adult novel The Carbon Diaries, Laura Brown documents the events of the year 2015. As the book begins, the global climate has declined so precipitously that the United Kingdom has made the unilateral decision to cut its carbon emissions by 60 percent. In this modern epistolary novel (a diary format supplemented with few emails to a cousin), 16yo Laura chronicles her own experiences during this year of great change.

Due to an extremely severe European storm, Britain decides to implement carbon rationing. During the course of the following year, incredible drought, extreme cold, riots, forest fires, and serious flooding shape the daily experiences of the central characters.  The UK is the first country in the world to respond to the global-warming crisis by setting strict limits on how much energy people can use. Everyone is given a carbon allowance of 200 Carbon Points per month that can be spent on food, heating, and travel. These ration points came on top of the higher prices people already pay now that the carbon usage of each commodity has been factored into the item's cost.

As Laura's family confronts carbon rationing and the effects of global warming, they each find themselves going in new directions. Unable to withstand the pressures of carbon rationing, Laura's parents decide to separate. Her mother becomes involved with a militant women's commune, while her father develops into an urban homesteader--raising a pig, tearing down neighborhood fences to create a common field with his neighbors and taking a job driving a horse-drawn delivery wagon.

On top of the difficulties Britain faces due to climate chance and rationing, Laura tries to keep her eco-punk band (the Dirty Angels) together, negotiate family tensions, survive the complications of teen friendships, and get the attention of the cute boy next door.

I highly recommend this book, but be aware that the amount of British teen-speak may make you feel both old and foreign.  It is not great literature, but it is compellingly written and endlessly thought provoking.

I can't wait to read the sequel, The Carbon Diaries, 2017!

Six Degrees

Mark Lynas's Six Degrees: Our Future on a Hotter Planet is a powerful book. In 2001, the the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) released a landmark report projecting average global surface temperatures to rise between 1.4 degrees and 5.8 degrees Celsius (roughly 2 to 10 degrees Fahrenheit) by the end of this century. Analyzing what such temperature rises would mean for the planet, Lynas sets out to track what geologists, glaciologists, oceanographers, climate scientists, and paleoclimatologists expect, as well as what "major scientific projections" from computer modelers suggest.

Lynas divides his findings into six main chapters representing the consequences of a one- to six-degree shift in temperature rise:

Plus 1° C, the American West (from California to the Great Plains) could suffer a mega-drought lasting decades or centuries, devastating agriculture and evicting inhabitants on a scale far larger then the 1930s dustbowl. Over-exploited aquifers will fail as powerful dust and sandstorms engulf entire states.  Europe, Africa, the Middle East, Asia, and Australia will face similar challenges.

Plus 2° C will bring thirst to parched cities across China. Facing a chronic shortage of water, China won't struggle to develop a more affluent lifestyle; it will fight to feed itself. Warmer seas will struggle to continue to absorb additional greenhouse gas emissions, radically altering the ecosystems that cover 70 % of the globe.  On top of that, by 2040 Europe could experience temperatures endemic to North Africa today and the consequent death toll during searing summer heat waves may reach into the hundreds of thousands.

Adding 3° C will see a return to Pliocene norms when the Trans-Antarctic Mountains were covered with beech trees. Pine trees will return to regions hundreds of miles north of today's Artic tree line, and global sea levels will rise 25 meters. Other harbingers include a persistent super El Nino, desiccation of the Amazon and Australia, hyper-hurricanes, an ice-free arctic, dry Indus and Colorado rivers, and the inundation of New York City.  Growing food in this habitat will prove increasingly problematic since rice, wheat, and maize yields decline by 10% for every 1° C temperature increase over 30° C. Over 40° C yields are reduced to zero. Starvation will replace obesity as an epidemic.

An additional 4° C will see the end of the Nile and Egyptian civilization.  Alexandria will be flooded as Antarctic ice melts raise global sea levels by 50 meters (164.1 feet). If both major Antarctic ice sheets destabilize, sea levels could rise by a meter or so every 20 years--far outside humanity's adaptive capacity. Global warming of this magnitude would eventually denude the entire planet of ice for the first time in nearly 40 million years.

With 5° C of global warming, an inhospitable planet awaits us. Rain forests may have burned up.  Rapidly rising sea levels, after inundating coastal cities, may begin to penetrate far inland into continental interiors. Human civilization will be confined to small areas limited by of drought and flood. At the highest latitudes, Siberian, Canadian, and Alaskan rivers will experience dramatically increased flows due to torrential rain. East Asian monsoons will dump nearly a third more water in the Yangtze and nearly 20% more in the Yellow River.  The United Kingdom will experience severe winter flooding as reset Atlantic weather patterns lash Britain, Scotland and Ireland.

At 6° C, Lynas describes our situation as descending into the Sixth Circle of Hell, an earthly inferno.  Terrifyingly, our planet could reprise conditions last experienced during the Paleocene-Eocene Thermal Maximum.  Disruption on this scale could unleash massive amounts of methane hydrates, resulting in runaway global warming and the planet might began to emulate Venus.  This would be a pace of warming far too rapid for meaningful adaptation by natural ecosystems. Mass extinction will rule the day as the earth recreates itself.

*  *  *

Are we ready to make some changes?  We are already in the pipeline for a devastating future.  To climb out, we need to realign radically both our personal lives and our global and national politics.  Although Lynas certainly does not prescribe any insta-fixes, he proposes that living simply, in community and intensely locally, is our best course.  As he writes at the end, "An outdated view still prevails that a low-carbon lifestyle requires immense personal suffering and sacrifice.  In my view, nothing could be further from the truth.  All the evidence shows that people who do not drive, do not fly on planes, do shop locally, do grow their own food, and do get to know other members of their community have a much higher quality of life than their compatriots who remain addicted to high-fossil-fuel-consuming lifestyles."  He continues, "It seems to me that this low-carbon society would be one that remembers that our planet is a unique gift."  While he makes it clear that he is not talking about any utopia, the choice is clear: "Unless we do constrain carbon, life will very largely not go on at all."

Green Resolutions 2010

For our New Year's Resolution this year, my family has decided to spend the year considering how to move towards "The Hanukkah Standard"--an idea I talked about recently in a post over at the Green Phone Booth.  Hanukkah is a time when Jews commemorate the "miracle of the oil" when one day's worth of sacred olive oil in the eternal lamp stayed lit for eight days as the early Jews rededicated their temple after its desecration.

We have come to a time where we again must use much less than we assume we need.  The idea of the Hanukkah Standard, a plan created by Arthur Waskow and the folks at Green Menorah Covenant, is to make what normally lasts for one day carry us through eight--that is, only use 1/8th of the energy resources used by the average American.

Although the three of us here at Chez Raven have attempted for several years to green our lives and reduce our impact on our planet and community, this year I am committed to stepping up our efforts.  Guided by the Riot 4 Austerity, over the course of the year we'll look at the changes we need to make in order to reach our ultimate target.

The goal for the year is not to reach the Hanukkah Standard immediately but to begin the journey and learn how to get there.  We know that some changes will be much easier than others.

Join me this year as my family imagines a new future, struggles against the forces of darkness, celebrates our successes, and displays our lights in this window for all to see.

Making the Oil Last

image source: Jewish Review

Chanukah/Hanukkah is a beautiful holiday celebrating the universal hope for the return of the light as we approach the winter solstice.

It is also a time when Jews celebrate both the victory of the weak against the mighty, as well as the "miracle of the oil" when one day's worth of sacred olive oil in the eternal lamp stayed lit for eight days as the early Jews rededicated their temple after its desecration. This event was perhaps the world's first oil shock, and resource conservation is obviously the moral of the story. (Well, perhaps everyone doesn't read it that way.)

We are facing questions of oil again now. Again we ask ourselves: "How long will it last?" Peak Oil activists deal with this issue. And climate activists ask us to try to use less oil in order to save the planet. We have to recognize that this time, we should not expect a sequel to the Hanukkah miracle.

Thinking about the holiday from these perspectives can shake our ideas about long-celebrated traditions. Jews all over the world celebrate by eating foods cooked in oil, especially latkes (potato pancakes) and sufganiyot (jelly doughnuts). As Culiblog says, "Now I don’t know why it took me so long to question the logic of this, but why do we celebrate this miracle of oil conservation by massively increasing oil consumption? Shouldn’t we be eating the opposite of oily foods? Shouldn’t Chanukkah be an oil fast, a holiday of raw and steamed vegetables and bike riding?"

my post is continued here

My Journey to Green, part 2

For my entire life, I have enjoyed gardening--especially growing herbs and vegetables. I'm sure I got the desire to grow my own food from Granny, and from my mother who carried on the tradition for many years. Growing up, I had cherry tomatoes growing outside my playhouse. In college, I kept a pot of mint on my windowsill for making tea. In grad school, a variety of herbs on a fire escape. And as soon as we bought a house, David and I began to plant vegetables in our back yard. There have been years when we've grown a lot and others when we've let the weeds get the better of the beds. I did not plant in order to be self-sufficient or for environmental reasons. I did it because it was a pleasure. As our son grew up, he got excited about what we were doing and enjoyed puttering around in the sunshine as we dug, planted, and weeded.

Every summer we spent days away from our garden at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival. And in 2005 when our son had just turned 6yo, one of the themes was American Food Culture. I was excited to learn more about the variety of food traditions and tastes from all the cultures that make up this diverse country.

What I really did not expect is how world-expanding this summer festival would be for me. Rather than only celebrating the abundance of cooking creativity around the country, the festival focused on SOLE food--that is, sustainable, organic, local, and ethical food.

Slow Food was there, articulating the connection between the pleasure of community and the politics of our food practices. I loved their message and it resonated with not only my hedonist side but my old-fashioned plain side. They also talked about the need to celebrate and protect our native foods to keep them from being eradicated. This was an entirely new message for me.

I also learned much more about how organic farming methods not only were good for our bodies but good for both the workers on organic farms and the land itself. I learned how "corporate organic" was an inferior choice to sustainably-raised organic (even when it is not certified organic). And, due to lectures about naturally-raised meat and animals' role on a family farm, I even started to question some of my beliefs about vegetarianism and began to think about eating certain kinds of meat again. (This is a question that continues to rattle around in my head and one where my practice changes over time.)

Perhaps even more important to my increasing radicalization was the presence of Berkeley's Edible Schoolyard. They planted a garden on the national mall complete with an outdoor pizza oven to demonstrate and a shady gazebo-like structure to welcome visitors to sit together. My son and I went everyday for two weeks, listening to folks talk about everything from the how-to's of gardening to the goals of the schoolyard project. The organizers got to know my young son so well that they pulled him on to the front and handed him a microphone so he could explain the purposes of mulching to newbie gardeners.

The Edible Schoolyard combines lessons in organic growing, healthy food preparation, community celebration of that abundance, and even a chance to practice a new language. (The school where the Schoolyard is located is middle school which includes a high number of students new to the US.)

At the end of the festival, the head of the Edible Schoolyard told my son that if he was ever in California, he should stop by for a tour. As luck would have it, we happened to be going to a conference in San Francisco just two months later! So we had the great fortune to visit the real schoolyard with its little chicken tractor and beautiful plants--and also the cooking-and-eating facility and the seed saving room. My son held chickens in his lap, collected and saved amaranth seeds, and help fold tablecloths in the dining room.

I came home from the summer festival understanding that food--in both its growing and its cooking as well as its distribution--is a way of combining the fight against hunger, the fight against corporate power and globalism, the fight for workers' rights, the fight for better health, and the fight for the planet.

I stopped hesitating: at that moment, I knew I was an environmentalist.

(continued from yesterday)

My Journey to Green

I grew up during the 1970s.  My parents, who had been activists in the Civil Rights Movement, were in those years teachers at a liberal-progressive college in the small-town rural South.  Watergate and the first Earth Day and the early oil shocks are foundational memories for me.

Even more important to my world view, however, was my grandmother.  She was not a lefty--not political at all, really--but she cared deeply about the place where she lived.  Granny had lived through the Great Depression.  She had also been widowed twice by the time she was 40yo.  The two experiences combined to make her a very independent and resourceful woman.

Granny worked full time at the same department store for almost fifty years.  She went fishing and crabbing and clamming to feed us with the bounty of what surrounded us.  She had an enormous farm-garden in her backyard.  She had a compost pile and rain barrels set up around her house.  She brought home every plastic bag from her job and folded them carefully for reuse. She knitted ferociously.

Granny's sister raised animals (from chickens to rabbits to peacocks) in her yard (and snakes and huge spiders in her house), collected wild mushrooms and foraging greens, and crocheted ferociously.  The two of them were quite a pair.

So I grew up with liberal commitments to social justice, taught to me by my parents.  And I grew up with the influence of my grandmother's commitment to a life led simply and plainly using resources to their fullest.  But I never considered myself an environmentalist.

When I finished college, I moved into an apartment and began cooking for myself.  I had been a more-or-less vegetarian in college, simply because the meat was so poorly prepared in the cafeteria.  But reading Frances Moore Lappe's Diet for a Small Planet totally changed my thought process about choosing food.  She showed me that my daily choices were fundamentally linked to social justice--and even to Granny-style self-reliance.  Buying into industrial meat production seemed like using more than my fair share and simply wasting so much of the earth's abundance.

I still did not think of myself as an environmentalist.  I was in fact put off by the message of such environmental tracts as E - The Environmental Magazine with what I saw as its emphasis on a more pop-culture, consumer-driven image of life than I wanted to live.  I'm not sure this is a fair representation of the magazine then, much less now, but it was my reaction.  I put my efforts into the anti-war movement (responding to Gulf 1) and to the feminist and GLBT movements instead.  And I studied history as I slowly worked through graduate school.

When in 2001 I started spending all my time with David, I began to hear more about environmentalism from him.  I was still resistant, honestly.  I've always cared a lot more about humanity that about the planet, if I'm going to be honest--and so doing things right for society seemed more relevant to me.  Cleaning up a stream in order to allow native peoples to fish there safely was one thing--but making things pristine, apparently so middle class hikers could enjoy nature, did not.  The idea of preventing indigenous people from continuing to live in the rain forests of the Amazon--all in an effort to protect the environment--seemed wrong to me.

Of course, now I see how social justice and environmentalism go absolutely hand in hand.  I'm sure people back then understood that as well, but I did not.  On the other hand, what I did know is that David was deeply involved in both movements.  The other thing I knew is that my instincts towards plainness and towards social justice often meant the two of us were heading towards the same place of personal action.

David and I fell in love.  We eventually decided to have a child.  But I was reluctant to make that step until we had really confirmed that our dreams for the future were reconcilable.  Before we even started dating, David had told me he wanted four children.  I, meanwhile, had decided at the age of seven that I would have only one.  (And as any of you who know me realize, I am incredibly stubborn once I have made a decision.)

In an effort to convince David that 'onlies' are perfectly happy and normal people, I started reading up on raising only children.  One of the first books I ran across was Bill McKibben's Maybe One: A Case for Smaller Families.  This book changed my life in the way few books have.

First, it tapped into the issues of deep importance to David and convinced him that our future was definitely going in the same direction childwise.  Within just a few months, we were staring at two little pink lines and dancing around the room.

Secondly, it transformed how I saw environmentalism.  It was scholarly (something I have a weakness for), non-materialistic, and full of emotional honesty.  McKibben introduced me to a world of green thinking that was rooted in both social justice and deep kindness.

Knowing that Bill McKibben has been such a powerful moral voice within the environmental movement since the year I graduated from college (from the same college from which he graduated!) makes it seem remarkable to me that I stumbled across his work through the back door of parenting choices.

Parenting choices led me further down the environmental path.  I made the choice to have a homebirth with a midwife because it was a self-reliant low-resource option.  We used cloth diapers because they felt luxurious compared to a plastic bottom, but also because they are lasting and use fewer resources.  (In fact, our son's old diapers are still being used by others, a full decade later.)  The luxury and ease of cloth diapers led me to start using cloth menstrual pads, and then to start using cloth bathroom wipes.  We breastfed because it was the natural thing to do, because it was healthier for mother and baby, because it was both cheaper and easier than formula feeding, and because it seemed like the responsible use of the resources we have. We coslept--which avoided the crib.  We carried our baby in a cotton sling rather than a complex large stroller.  The idea of simple plainness motivated many of my choices--but by this point I was recognizing that being plain and being green often went hand in hand.

There was one more step that totally pushed me over and made me into a card-carrying environmentalist.  I'll share that story tomorrow.

*  *  *

Thanks to Erin for raising such a fabulous issue for this month's APLS carnival.  What a lovely time of year to play over our pasts and see what led us to where we are today.

DIY : Green and Thrify Shopping Bag Tutorial

For a while now I've been fascinated with Transition Towns and especially the concept of "reskilling"--and I've been hard at work to learn new things to make our family and community more independent of oil. I've also tried to be active in the environmentalist movement, greening my daily life as we work towards both small individual changes and larger political efforts which can respond to the climate crisis and to environmental degradation.

Of course, many of the things I've tried to learn in the last few years have to do with food and fiber. Everything from fermenting sauerkraut to spinning alpaca, from learning how to can to learning how to weave have been on my agenda.

Today's new skill: basic sewing, using a sewing machine.



While I was completely intimated for months by the machine sitting in a corner of our finished basement, when my 10yo son and I pulled it out and pored over the instructions, it suddenly seemed quite straightforward.

Following the diagrams in the manual, we threaded the bobbin and the top needle. And honestly, although it only took us seconds, THAT was the most complicated thing we did.

Last time we went to the local thrift store, everything was on sale for 50% off the usual thrift store prices. In addition to a queen-sized quilt for our bed, assorted dress-up goodies for Halloween costumes (including a pair of very cool women's boots for our son's musketeer get-up), and a metal file box perfect for storing seeds, we picked up a handful of tank tops in a variety of sizes.

When we picked up the shirts, we were thinking about the t-shirt bag my son made at the Green Festival in DC last year. It is just a gray t-shirt with the arms cut off by a 9yo, sewn together on the bottom by the adult coordinator. He then drew a picture of a cornucopia on the front to decorate it:



Every time we use the bag at our local co-op, the grocery store, or at the farmer's market, someone comments on how clever it is. Many people have told us over the year that we should sell them. (Well...that would require actually making them.)

Since last year when my son made the bag, I've seen the idea online everywhere from No Impact Man to Martha Stewart. But I kept staring at the sewing machine in fear. Could I do it by hand, I wondered? Would the seams be strong enough?

Finally, the pile of tank tops hanging on the chair in the dining room pushed me to haul out the machine, steel myself for the task, and finally try it out.



And you know what? It was FUN--and incredibly fast and easy, and totally addictive. Within the hour, my son and I had made a huge collection of bags.



All we did was turn the t-shirts inside out, then line up the side seams of the tank top. We were very casual and simply used the thread we had on hand rather than trying to match the shirts. We sewed once across the bottom of each tank top with a straight stitch and once across with a zigzag. (I'm sure that sewing twice across with straight stitch would work perfectly, but we wanted to play around with different stitches.) We sewed the lines immediately above the line where the shirt's hem ends. For brand new sewers, this works very well because the seam lump lines up with the side of the sewing foot to keep you going forward in a very straight line. Remember to start and end your lines by stitching backwards just a few stitches in order to anchor the ends. After the sewing is done, clip the end threads and turn the bags right side out.

We chose to use tank tops to avoid having to deal with the top at all--but if you have t-shirts in hand, simply trim the sleeves and scoop the neck enough that you have something to hold onto. No need to sew anything or hem anything. Check out the links of instructions above if you have any additional questions.

Some of the shirts we used were women's petites. Some were men's extra-larges.



Some of the shirt we sewed inside out to get a smooth bottom (like the pink bag), and a few we left right side out before sewing (like the blue one):



We also played around with a few fancier tops, just for fun.

One is a more delicate stretchy tank which I used to carry my knitting today:



I love the lacy camisole! I decided to hem it from the outside in order to let the lacy trim at the bottom remain a design element. (My naughty brain imagines filling it with two huge and juicy cantaloupes.)



Some of these bags will become "wrapping paper" (or rather, gift bags) for presents this holiday season. After they do their duty as present holder, recipients can use them again and again as they do their shopping.

These bags are a fabulous way to learn to sew--fast and laid-back enough that if you make a few mistakes, it really won't matter. And at the end of your sewing practice time, you're left with reusable bags great for shopping or gifting.

coming together

My family headed to downtown DC for the 350ppm rally and march on Saturday. We hung out and listened to some traditional DC-style go-go music as well as a few inspiring speeches, including one by Takoma Park hero Mike Tidwell.

At 3:00, rally participants began to line up for the march to the park across from the White House.

And at that moment the skies opened, absolutely completely.

David brought an umbrella and I brought my rain jacket, but our 10yo son had decided not to carry rain gear. After twenty minutes of marching through the pelting rain and splashing through puddles, we were all soaked. Eventually, we peeled off from the crowd and went to a cafe for hot chocolate.

* * *

The three of us took the Metro back to Takoma Park in time for the annual Boy Scouts pancake supper. Although I am not a huge fan of the Boy Scouts (since I'm an atheist and a strong supporter of gay rights), this dinner is a show of community support.

Because of our No Impact experiment this week, we toyed with taking reusable plates with us to the dinner. I finally decided that this minor bit of personal earth-saving might seem like a major bit of holier-than-thou face-slapping. Who was I to be holier when we bagged on the march just because of a little rain?

We confidently decided this would be a time to just use what we were given and be appreciative of togetherness.

Imagine my thrill when I walked in the church gym and saw all the reusable plates, cups, and silverware--along with both organic cream and raw cane sugar to go with the coffee!

And who else was lined up for pancakes? Many other rally participants--including Mike Tidwell, enjoying fellowship and pancakes--dry and warm.

350!

We're off to the big march in downtown DC today, braving the rain. Where are you going to mark 350ppm?

Check out 350.org's list of actions if you don't have something already planned.

Going No Impact

My 10yo son and I are participating in the No Impact Project this week. Although for many years my family has been  involved with the environmental movement (as well as committed to lessening our own ecological footprints), the No Impact Project gives us an opportunity to talk about these issues more, learn to take more extensive steps, and make connections with other participants. I certainly felt that way during Crunchy Chicken's Low Impact Week.

Isn't this mass experiment just hype, a stunt?  Isn't it in some ways counterproductive since it leads the "consumer" (formerly known as the citizen) to feel responsible for climate change rather than the government and large corporations acknowledging their profound role and responsibility in this problem?

Perhaps so. I will end this week by talking more about the problems of personal versus political action.

But for now, I am taking Bill McKibben's words to heart: "The first step, clearly, is to take personal responsibility--to cut your own impact." He goes on to explain why personal action is not enough. As he writes, "If we want to have as little impact as possible on the planet, we must have as much impact as possible on its politics. At this point we're not going to solve this one lightbulb at a time--we're going to solve it one planet at a time if we're going to solve it at all." He recommends No Impact Week as not only a way to "minimize your personal [impact]" but to form a community of people actively making not only changes in their lives but changes in the culture that will then allow our politicians and other leaders to step up to the plate, that is, to "maximize your political impact."  Personal change turns us into actors.  When we see ourselves as effective people, we can have much more powerful voices for political change.

In addition to doing right by the planet, going "No Impact" is truly the way to do right by ourselves. By pushing ourselves to live up to what we say we believe, we're asking ourselves to face up to ourselves. Instead of letting ourselves get by with easy rhetoric, we are allowing ourselves to grow, to bloom into more responsible and effective people--on this issue but also on all other issues.  It is a way of celebrating the potential of humanity--and the potential of ourselves.

(Check out the reference to this essay on the Huffington Post!)

A Time for Action

During the second week in December, world leaders will meet in Copenhagen, Denmark at the United Nations Climate Change Conference with the goal of putting together a new global climate treaty, replacing 1997's Kyoto Protocol. It is essential for industrialized countries to reduce their greenhouse gas emissions, for major developing countries like China and India to limit the growth of their emissions, and for poorer countries to get financial help adapting to the impacts of climate change which many already feel.

In the run-up to Copenhagen, many individuals and groups have helped set the stage for citizen action.

* * *



Today is Blog Action Day, an annual call for bloggers to discuss one issue of crucial concern to the world. This year's topic is Climate Change. Bloggers across the world, regardless of the normal topics of their blogs, are writing about the crisis facing our environment.

* * *



Coming up on October 24 is the '350' Day of Action.

As 350.org explains, "350 parts per million is what many scientists, climate experts, and progressive national governments are now saying is the safe upper limit for CO2 in our atmosphere." Although for most of human history levels have hovered around 275ppm, we are now at 390ppm–-and this number is rising by about 2 parts per million every year. As NASA's Jim Hansen has pointed out, above 350 we will no longer have a planet "similar to the one on which civilization developed and to which life on earth is adapted."

As long as we stay above the 350ppm border, we risk reaching tipping points and irreversible impacts such as the melting of the Greenland ice sheet and major methane releases from increased permafrost melt.

The brilliant Bill McKibben puts it this way: "It's not as if we have a choice. The most useful thing about having a number is that it forces us to grow up, to realize that the negotiations that will happen later this fall in Copenhagen aren't really about what we want to do, or what the Chinese want to do, or what Exxon Mobil wants to do. They're about what physics and chemistry want to do: the physical world has set its bottom line at 350, and it's not likely to budge."

To help our world leaders understand how essential it is to come up with a climate plan that includes cuts significant enough to reach that 350ppm boundary, 350.org has organized a Day of Action. Groups all over the world will participate, representing their support for this target. As the organization says, "We're calling on people around the world to organize an action on October 24 incorporating the number 350 at an iconic place in their community, and then upload a photo of their event to 350.org website. We'll collect these images from around the world and, with your help, deliver them to the media and world leaders. Together, we can show our world and it's decision-makers just how big, beautiful, and unified the climate movement really is." Check out some of the creative ways people have gotten together before on this issue.

Using this map, you can find a group near you to join on the 24th.

* * *

Eat at Mom's

First there was the 100 Mile Diet.

Then there was the 100 Foot Diet.

And now, the 100 Millimeter Diet!

pic from the Pa Dept of Health

* * *

As a long-time breastfeeding activist, I am very pleased to see the Green movement beginning to embrace the environmental importance of nursing children. After all, there is nothing more sustainable than breastfeeding. It comes with absolutely no waste in the manufacturing process and no waste in the delivery system. It is free, making it accessible for all people. It is easier by far than filling up with formula (although this may not seem to be true when you're just starting out if you don't find great support). It even leads to lower consumption of medical resources over the entire course of life.

I was thrilled to hear Joel Salatin at the DC Green Festival proclaim these environmental virtues of breastfeeding. I was also pleased to see a vendor in the Green Festival merchant hall selling t-shirts with various green choices--including breastfeeding!

Even Michael Pollen, king of the food movement has spoken about the ecological importance of breastfeeding.

Be sure to click through this fantastic slide show, Infant Feeding Affects Climate Change. Also check out 10 Reasons Breastfeeding is Green.

In the Sun

The weather this Memorial Day weekend has been glorious! We've spent almost all of it outside in the backyard, gardening and reading and celebrating.

On Saturday morning before we got to work finally putting in the tomato seedlings and the like, we heated up the solar oven...



...harvested some rapini...



and mixed up a crustless rapini quiche to have for lunch a couple of hours later. Using our own veggies as well as local eggs, milk, and cheese made this an exceptionally local lunch--one we cooked with only the sun's energy, and ate while basking in that same sun ourselves.




* * *

This is the first time I've ever grown potatoes--this time, just red new potatoes and yellow finn--and they are doing very well, at least on top of the ground:



We're also starting the grand experiment of a "three sisters" garden of corn, beans, and squash. We've chose to plant really interesting varieties: Mandan Bride corn which is edible fresh or dried and also makes a beautiful fall decoration, Delicata squash, and gorgeous Tiger's Eye beans meant for drying. I've never tried drying varieties of anything, and never grown corn at all. David created the mounds as part of his Mother's Day present (or at least he made them that day, which I took as a present). We planted the corn seeds a week or so later and now they are as high as a ... well, about as high as a squirrel's eye. By next week we should be able to plant the squash and beans.



* * *

Some garden treats don't require as much waiting as those crops do. We harvested a few radishes:



I love their color!

* * *

Although we've had sweet woodruff in a garden since we moved to this house ten years ago, we've never made May Wine until this year. We picked a few sprigs of the woodruff...



...and let it dry. We then soaked it in white wine overnight.

On Sunday evening, we lit the citronella candles and had our Earth Evening, and enjoyed our first taste. A strawberry crushed in a little sugar made a beautiful addition to the glass.



Even Son got to have a bit--his drink being May Tea instead of May Wine:



* * *

Today: off for a picnic at the farm of some friends!

Hanging Out

Last night we celebrated the first night of Passover with a fiber friend and some of her adopted family. What a wonderfully creative and peaceful evening!

Although David and I are very shy people who always stammer through meeting new folks, they were all quick to make us feel at home. Spending some time chatting together as well getting to go through their interesting haggadah made for a lovely evening. Thanks, Carol!

* * *

Before we went to the seder, we did a little cooking and cleaning in order to prepare for the holiday and for the guests who are scheduled to arrive in a couple of days. One job we intended to do on this beautifully day was some laundry. I had intended to pull our little line out to the sunshine and observe National Hanging Out Day. While some think of "solar clothes drying" as an inconvenient chore, I enjoy the rhythm of pinning clothes on the cord and I love the smell of the spring breeze in my clothes. But yesterday in our busyness, we forgot to get things started. I thought to myself that we might try today--but we woke up to a long soaking rain and some fairly ominous-looking clouds. Oh well.

Not Our Laundry

* * *

So instead, we just hung out together and made a leisurely almost-all-local classic passover breakfast: matzah brei.

First, we sauteed some farmers market apples in some Amish butter.



While it was caramelizing, we soaked some not-local matzot in apple juice (from Pennsylvania) which we had warmed up. After they were soft, we drained them and crumbled the matzah into local beaten eggs. We added a sprinkling of farmers market maple sugar, then added the egg-and-matzah mixture to the sauteeing apples and cooked it as if we were scrambling eggs.

This is one of my favorite Passover breakfasts, and getting to spend a long Sunday morning enjoying the matzah brei together with my family made it doubly sweet.





* * *

“We must all hang together, or most assuredly we will all hang separately."
-Benjamin Franklin

Cars

Thanks for your patience with this blog's week-long break. Now, in with the magic of blogosphere time, we return to where we were when we left off...


Issue Six of Crunchy Chicken's Low Impact Week



Son and I regularly take the bus. We are a one-car family, not for environmental reasons, but because I feel uncomfortable driving because of personal medical issues. (Here it is a benefit. It is also a negative: I can no longer ride a bike.)



Luckily, our area has terrific public transportation, both by bus and by subway. Rail service will improve when the area builds the Purple Line, opposed by one of my favorite local knitters because it may destroy a beautiful bike path. What irony!

* * *

Our car is a decade-plus-old Honda Civic hatchback. It gets more than 35 miles per gallon on the highway (40 on a recent trip!) and somewhere around 30 or so in the city. We are hoping our car will last until the 2009 3rd generation Prius comes out....

* * *

In addition to taking public transportation and driving a fuel-efficient car, we know that reducing the miles driven on our car is a way we can make a huge difference in our impact on the environment.

The problem is...

...it is not so easy to reduce our miles.

We bought our house near where David used to work. We love our neighborhood--but David's new job is further away. Although it is technically accessible by public transportation, the wildly-out-of-the way public transportation routes mean p.t. takes significantly longer. Given that David wants to get home quickly in order to be as much of an equal parent as possible, prolonging his commute is troubling both for him and for me.

He's been playing with ways to make it work. Could he find people in the large organization who live around here and would like to carpool, at least occasionally? Could he telecommute one day a month (and perhaps take the subway on another day) to save gas AND have a little extra time for family? Telecommuting works perfectly for a few work chores he has, but not most--but saving them up for one or two days a month might work beautifully. Condensing the work week by working longer days 9 out of every 10 days is another possibility.

Although these changes might seem minuscule, realizing that they could easily lead to a 10% drop in driving made us feel great!

Trash

Issue Five of Crunchy Chicken's Low Impact Week

After reading a great book about trash, we've been talking recently about ways to reduce what goes in our garbage can:

1. Reuse it yourself. Put dried beans or nuts in old spaghetti jars, dried fruit in jelly jars. Store knitting sundries in an old chocolate tin. You can even knit with old t-shirts.
And try making soup stock from your vegetable trimmings, cheese rinds, and chicken carcasses. Just simmer them in water for an hour or so. You thought those things were trash? Just wait till you taste it!

2. Let someone else reuse it: donate it or sell it. You can share with your friends or take your stuff to the thrift store (ideally one that gives profits to a charity you support). Try Freecycle, or Craig's List or even eBay. Have a yard sale. Even if you can't use it, someone else may be able to.

3. Recycle--and not just the cans and bottles and newspaper. Aluminum foil is recyclable, but we didn't realize it for years. Don't know if you can throw your newspaper bags in the bag recylcing container at the grocery store? Look it up. (We just did--and we can!)
We also think about what can be reused and recycled when we buy our products, too. Try to avoid the overpackaged items and buy in bulk with reusable containers. Likewise, if we are on the road and choose to buy a drink at a gas station, I often buy something stored in aluminum or glass. Although plastic is recyclable, it is not an especially efficient process and recycled plastic is not widely used.

4. Compost. Everything from coffee grounds and egg shells to dead leaves or seedless weeds can turn from trash to gold for the garden with a little stirring and a little time. Keep your organic matter out of the trashcan in a little container until you have enough to take outside. You can even compost your already-made-into-soup-stock vegetable clippings. Meat and dairy should probably not be put in your compost pile--but if you are lucky enough to have your own pigs, you can even take care of that.

5. Reduce. As the old saying goes, "If it's broke, just fix it." OK--that isn't what the saying says, but the original saying comes from an era when where was an assumption that you fixed broken things. Now it is often cheaper (or at least it seems cheaper when we're paying) to replace a computer, a stereo, a toaster, a sewing machine, etc. than get an old one fixed. Try to consider the larger costs. And when you can afford it, buy high-quality items to begin with--ones that won't need replacing in no time.

6. Perhaps the hardest for middle-income Americans is to go against the lessons we get everyday telling us to consume more. Instead of buying every new thing you hear about, try borrowing, buying used, sharing with neighbors, etc. For inspiration, check out Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping and Consumed: How Markets Corrupt Children, Infantilize Adults, and Swallow Citizens Whole. (And, um, check them out of your library or try to buy them used....) Do you really need another "collectible" (that everyone else is probably collecting too) that will just clutter up your house? Although I grew up calling these things "gee-jaws," I have now learned that the proper term is kitsch. Will filling your house with future junk really make you happier?

* * *

Well, my house if full of junk (mostly books, yarn, and spinning fiber). Luckily, there are many great options here. One in the DC area is a great place to donate time, yarn, and knitted items!

Paper

Issue Four of Crunchy Chicken's Low Impact Week

Just file this post under "TOO MUCH INFORMATION," please.

* * *

We've used kitchen towels forever, cloth napkins everyday for many years, and cloth hankies occasionally. When we realized how much we loved using cloth diapers for our son when he was a baby, I decided to try cloth pads for myself. Some people make their own, and there are many different companies from whom you can purchase pre-sewn pads. I bought Glad Rags and absolutely love them, but I think if I had it to do over, I'd buy from a WAHM.

My pads are now about seven years old and in wonderful shape. After use, I put them in a small water-proof bag without rinsing, then wash whenever it is convenient. They don't smell, and because I have dark jewel-toned colors, there are no visible stains. Folks who prefer tampons might like a menstrual cup such as the Keeper or the Diva Cup.

With both cloth diapers and cloth pads, I have felt incredibly pampered. Instead of having to touch icky cheap plastic or deal with itchiness and odd chemical smells, I now have gloriously soft cotton next to me.

Almost on a dare, I decided to see if I would be as pleased with cotton for our other big use of a disposable paper product. I intended to use them myself only during the week of my period and wash them with my cloth pads. We had an old navy-blue flannel sheet that had shrunk in the wash enough that it would not fit our mattress--and I cut it up in strips. Wonderful! And not at all disturbing or smelly. The family surprised me a bit by wanting to participate as well.

Although we still use the flannel strips, I augmented our stack with some cloths from Stork Savers. We chose some bug patterns from her marvelous collection of fabrics.



One thing that concerned us was that washing the wipes weekly in hot water would und0 any environmental benefit of not using disposables. But after reading about the incredible amount of water as well as other stuff used in making disposable toilet paper, the water issue seemed to be, well, at least a wash.

* * *

Back to your regularly-scheduled
hesitant-to-say-anything-too-personal
blog....

Food

Issue Three of Crunchy Chicken's Low Impact Week

I used to laugh at the yuppies ordering their Starbucks half-caf triple-shot double-foam non-fat short caramel lattes.

Now I'm picking out my beans the same way. Make mine shade-grown, organic, fair trade, and locally roasted, please.



You can find this cool rising-sea-level mug (that we do not own but always laugh at) here.

* * *

I talk a lot on this blog about eating locally-grown food, but recently we've been eating even more locally than usual, as my fortune cookie commands:



Our garden broccoli, still small, looked like it might be about to bolt in the heat we've had recently. We harvested it...



...served it steamed in a whole-wheat tortilla with mozzarella cheese...



...and packed it in David's nifty lunch pail:




* * *

Another way to change your food habits in order to lesson your ecological footprint is to answer the "Paper or plastic?" question with, "No thanks; I brought my own bag." In a pinch, I've even used a shawl in progress:



(No knitting was harmed in the taking of this picture.)

* * *

Our goal for the future? To make sure we have some old reusable containers with us for restaurant leftovers when we go out to dinner. (Yep--the backpack-slash-car kit is getting larger: string bags and washed-out produce bags, metal coffee mug, cloth napkins and handkerchiefs, etc. along with the requisite books and knitting for all of us. When will this start to seem ridiculous?)