It is a valuable tool for congregations and others who care for God's creation. Canon Sally G. I love this book—a smart, accessible, clear-headed guide that we can all follow.
This is the smart tool for action many of us have been waiting for. Senator from Colorado. Splendidly written, accessible, and essential for any citizen—both virtually and metaphorically cool.
Just about everyone. Rarely does any individual popular science book rank as a genuinely significant and compelling addition to a library's collection, but this is one of them. Pretty well every academic or public library should get this book for their collection We owe it to ourselves and our planet to read this book and think deeply about what we can do.
But its central purpose is to empower you, through low carbon-living, to confront one of society's greatest threats. Thinking about Your Climate Choices Chapter 1. Can One Person Make a Difference? Chapter 2. Sweat the Right Stuff Chapter 3. Making Effective Climate Choices Chapter 4. Driving Down Emissions Chapter 5. Taking Charge of Electricity at Home Chapter 7.
A Low-Carbon Diet Chapter 8.
Rescuing the Future Chapter 9. Step Up, Connect, Transform Chapter Stepping Up at Work Chapter Making Government Work for Us Chapter Check out their answers and share your own carbon cutbacks—or vices—in the comments. Which, I'll admit, is a squirrely way of saying that I'm doing my best to reduce my carbon footprint. I ride my bike.
I take mass transit. Most days my car never leaves the spot in front of our home.
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Most importantly, I have sworn off beef because of cattle production's disproportionate climate impact. The grass-fed, humane burger still has a siren song, but I ignore it.
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My greatest carbon sin is my wood burning fireplace. At the same time, we electrified our heating system with Mitsubishi heat pumps. So our home is now net positive from both an electricity and heating point of view. We made the solar array large enough to also power an electric car, but are waiting for the new models that will have more range before we install the electric car charger.
The array and heat pumps have great economics. Great idea for retirement budgets! I wish it were a better option. Photo by Bernal Saborio , used under Creative Commons licensing. Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick.
Then she had a new inspiration:. Unbutton your jacket! He opened his jacket. His shirt collar was securely sewed. But I forgive ye, Tom. This time. She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tom had stumbled into obedient conduct for once. In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust into the lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about them—one needle carried white thread and the other black.
He said:. Confound it! He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy very well though—and loathed him.
Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles. This new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just acquired from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it un-disturbed. It consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble, produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short intervals in the midst of the music—the reader probably remembers how to do it, if he has ever been a boy.
Diligence and attention soon gave him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full of harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an astronomer feels who has discovered a new planet—no doubt, as far as strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with the boy, not the astronomer.
Jonathan Edwards :: Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God
The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tom checked his whistle. A stranger was before him—a boy a shade larger than himself. A new-comer of any age or either sex was an im-pressive curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St. This boy was well dressed, too—well dressed on a week-day. This was simply astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue cloth roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoes on—and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit of ribbon. The more Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up his nose at his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemed to him to grow.
Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved—but only sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye all the time. Finally Tom said:. I could lick you with one hand tied behind me, if I wanted to. You say you can do it. Oh, what a hat! What do you keep saying you will for? Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently they were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said:.
So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, and both shoving with might and main, and glowering at each other with hate. But neither could get an advantage. After struggling till both were hot and flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, and Tom said:. The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them out with derision.
Tom struck them to the ground.
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Presently the confusion took form, and through the fog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, and pounding him with his fists. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where he lived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring the enemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through the window and declined. He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously in at the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt; and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn his Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in its firmness.
There was a song in every heart; and if the heart was young the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in every face and a spring in every step. The locust-trees were in bloom and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyond the village and above it, was green with vegetation and it lay just far enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting. Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit.
Thirty yards of board fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a burden.