Ah, the good ol' days, when the Wealthy White sipped lemonade in their Italianate gardens . . . and everybody else died of typhoid, industrial poisoning, and political corruption. It's tricky writing a book about saving the planet when the world is falling apart. Come along for the ride.

It seems bonkers to me, too, given the sh!tstorm going on around us, on top of the coldest winter EVER (with a fossil-fuel heating bill that broke me). I probably don't need to recap the last 90 days' worth of news for ya, but for the last 90-ish days, I've been trying to figure out what to do about all this bad news, besides waiting for Jimmy Kimmel's monologues to drop on YouTube so I can least have a laugh about the mess we're in. This dilemma became an Arthurian quest . . . except I didn't know what I was looking for...

Well, I officially have nothing more to say about the environment. How's everybody else feeling? L.A., my hometown, is a smoking rubble. Fellow environerd Jimmy Carter passed away over the holidays. Trump is taking office in a few days. And I'm doing Dry January. 

So, yeah.

Good things are happening; bad things are prob about to happen. Things that should've been taken care of years ago weren't. Let's learn from it. 

The Presidential election is in 10 days, and I think my candidate totally fumbled it last week. Can Kamala beat Trump, and save the planet? Or will we be saying goodbye to all that? 

In which I can't get out of the Freeze Response, given the political mayhem. Plus a definition of fascism! :-)

How did I celebrate Earth Day? With Mary Shelley and Ronald Reagan, natch. Didn't everyone?

If you’ve ever met me, you’ll know that waste is my pet issue. I love to hate waste. I can’t stand single-use plastic, from grocery bags to bottled water to those little green plastic harpoons with the Starbucks mermaid on ’em made for sticking into the hole of the (plastic) Starbucks lid to prevent the steam from coming out while you carry your coffee around like an Hermes bag. I’m also tired of talking about it.

Unless you get me started...

Well, I’m back. From riding bikes through hot, humid coastal areas, every route a little different from the day before . . . along the sea, over hills, through quiet little towns, the water in my water bottle fortified with salty, grapefruity electrolytes. I didn’t think (much) about the rest of the planet while I was away...

In which Citizen Deb goes through half a box of Seventh Generation facial tissue . . .

It being a day on which I needed to hear a different take on things, on which the week prior had been somewhat challenging, and I was in want of something to break through my thinking that surely I'm doing something wrong in life . . . I ended up at a Catholic mass at a church in my village.