Regional Food Security Conference re-cap

I had the privilege of attending some of the Regional Food Security Conference this past weekend at CUH, and wanted to share what I learned...  

The plenary session Sunday morning was a joint effort by 3 presenters who each provided unique perspectives into successful small scale regional farming projects happening around the world.  The one that stood out for me was presented by Travis English, a UW MA candidate, who spoke of the Tumaini Women’s Group in Kenya whose members are comprised of 20+ elderly widows.  The youngest of these women farmers is Florence at 72 years old.  The HIV/AIDS epidemic so prevalent in much of Africa not only claimed these women’s husbands, but many of their children as well leaving them to care for 70+ orphaned grandchildren.  Yet despite these hardships, with the help of a progressive organization named Grow BioIntensive Agricultural Centre of Kenya, or GBIACK, these women have been able to lift themselves up out of poverty and become completely self-reliant.  It was an inspiring story that makes the obstacles of creating our own sustainable regional food system seem trivial and easily overcome.  

The conference proceeded to split up into smaller groups to focus on a variety of food security related topics.  I set up shop in Douglas Classroom where our very own Katie Murphy kicked things off to a standing-room only crowd.  I was familiar with Katie’s research from a public speaking class we had together almost 2 years ago.  Katie, in addition to running the Herbarium, has spent these past two years taking a simple idea and shaping it into a full blown cutting edge research project that takes a hard look at an often over-looked gardening spot, the parking strip.  We drive past them and walk over them every day, but could these mundane omnipresent features of our urban environment be better used to grow food?  A lot of Seattleites think so and are already growing vegetable gardens in these places, but should they be?  Who knows where these soils have been or what heavy metals they may have been hanging out with for the last 100 years?  These are the questions that Katie’s research aims to answer through careful and thorough scientific investigation.  You’ll have to wait for Katie’s finished paper to get the whole story, but at least from her preliminary results, there is about 190 acres of prime real estate in northwest Seattle ripe for an urban agricultural revival.  

The next speaker to present was Steve Jones a plant breeder and the director of The Northwestern Washington Research and Extension Center of WSU.  Steve is a wheat guy who has been researching and growing wheat for 30+ years.  While the first 2/3 of his career was spent testing and growing wheat varieties for use in conventional farming, he’s spent the last 10 years advocating the value and viability of decentralized wheat growing systems.  His shift in values seemed based on what to him is a stupefying reality - that the price of wheat is determined not by farmers, bakers or buyers but by traders, lenders and bureaucrats, people who wear ties & suits not coveralls & boots.  Most of the wheat that we grow in this country is consumed in China, and most of it is grown from the exact same kind of proprietised genetically modified seed.  States like Maine and Vermont and Iowa that once boasted thriving wheat harvests now grow nary a chafe. 

But Steve was hopeful because of a recent resurgence of the small wheat farmer and a budding cottage industry based on artisan breads and beers made from local wheat varieties with unique characteristics.  One thing that Steve said that stuck with me was his description of the people who make up this movement and the audiences of wheat growing workshops.  These people are young, they are interested and they are interesting.  It was refreshing to see this same demographic description reflected in the attendees of this food security conference, and indeed in the presenters themselves...  

Andrew Corbin also of WSU, was the final presenter in Douglas before lunch, and to look at him and hear him speak he would seem just as natural strumming a six-string around a campfire on the beach as standing in front of a classroom lecturing, maybe more so.  Andrew and his colleagues have recently been examining the age old farming question, “to till or not to till”.  Since the invention of the iron plow some 2500 years ago, the answer has been “till”.  But conventional farming’s methods and industrial efficiency has taken it’s toll on our planets breadbaskets and resulted in increasingly stratified soil profiles that make life hard for root systems.  Over time, the soil layer immediately below the reach of the plow becomes an impenetrable hardpan.  Steve’s research has shown the advantages of planting cover crops and then crimping them rather than turning them under.  This rather low-tech method not only produces higher yields while fixing nitrogen but works as a weed barrier, earthworm haven and lid to keep CO2 from entering the atmosphere.  Steve’s trials use a tractor powered crimper, but I have a small-scale farmer friend in CA who does it with simple hand tools...an approach easily adapted for the baker growing his/her specialty wheat in their parking strip.

For more on the conference:  http://depts.washington.edu/uwbg/news/food-security/

Bioblitz: Mushroom Edition

Bioblitz: Mushroom Edition re-cap

Last spring, the University of Washington Botanic Gardens hosted a bioblitz to take a stab at identifying the myriad organisms for which Washington Park Arboretum is home.  Last week, we continued this effort but with a focus on fungus.  During Bioblitz: Mushroom Edition, Puget Sound Mycological Society members teamed up with over 60 citizen scientists for a full day of mushroom hunting that by sundown netted approximately 500 specimens. 

The folks from PSMS had been with us in the spring for the all-taxa bioblitz, and had expressed a desire to come back in the fall during prime mushroom season.  The mushroom people I’ve met in Seattle are like that – deeply passionate, and genuinely enamored with their quarry.  As for the 60 more or less random people that showed up on this predictably drizzle October day, they were almost as diverse as the mushrooms that were collected.  (I say almost because everyone smelled pretty good; the same cannot be said for the mushrooms.)  But what is it about mushrooms that so captures our collective curiosity?  It’s a difficult question to answer because the answer differs depending on who you ask.

I participated in all three of the 2-hour hunts, and attended Marian Maxwell’s presentation on “The Role of Mushrooms in the Ecosystem”, and so I had the chance to mingle with a good number of attendees.  I hunted briefly in the afternoon with Alex, a recent transplant from California where he worked as an environmental educator – a man after my own heart.  Alex likes the way mushrooms force one to slow down and really look at one’s surroundings, even under one’s surroundings.  He used to do this on hikes with kids in California.  I’ve done this with fieldtrip groups at the arboretum, and I can verify the mesmerizing power of fungi.  Alex and I agreed that anything with the power to keep a group of 4th graders captivated for any real span of time borders on miraculous. 

 

That being said, often times kids make the best mushroom hunters.  The Allgood family, with their two young daughters, joined us for much of the day (including the lecture), and contributed dozens of carefully collected specimens to our total.  The Allgoods are avid P-patchers who believe that the healthiest food is the food you grow yourself.   The desire to learn more about a potentially free, natural and local food source is what brought them out. 

With the “eat local” movement gaining momentum and food security conversations becoming household, being able to forage for ones food is in vogue and mushrooms are poster children, and why not.  They’re abundant, extremely varied, the right ones are delicious, and you’re simply harvesting a fruit much like any other (but without the maintenance), so there’s no harm done. The trick of course is finding the right ones.       

The edibility and lure of foraging for ones food was a common tie among many who came out.  Colin, a UW freshman only months into his college experience, is already tiring of “dorm food”.  While the Arboretum cannot be considered a place to go harvesting ‘shaggy parasols’ (it’s illegal to take anything out of this Seattle treasure), Colin was very pleased to rescue the handful we collected from their immanent fate in the compost pile and eager to get out into the mountains to find his own secret spot. 

 

That’s what my wife likes about mushroom hunting – the hunting part.  The idea of going home with something tasty to eat is secondary to the thrill of the hunt.  Having a mission to focus on helps to quiet her ADD brain and allows for a much more enjoyable hike with a husband who is perfectly happy wandering aimlessly through the woods.  This example speaks to an indirect medicinal property that mushrooms hold, but there are some mushrooms such as the Agarikon (Fomitopsis officinalis), which only grows on old growth, that are being researched by pharmaceutical companies for their anti-viral, anti-fungal, anti-bacterial, and possibly anti-cancer properties. 

Of course there are others who are less interested in the potential for mushrooms to heal the body and more interested in the potential for mushrooms to heal the mind.  David, who I met during the morning hunt, though “out there” by conventional standards, is a deeply spiritual man who loves everything about mushrooms, including the ability of some to alter reality.  The hallucinogenic properties of mushrooms are well known and well documented in cultures around the world.  In many of these cultures, only the most revered members of the society – the shamans, medicine men and mystics are allowed to meddle with these powerful substances.  After all, these seemingly innocuous forest dwellers can kill you and every year even experienced mycologists die from eating mushrooms they believed to be safe. 

Marian touched on the toxicology of some mushrooms during her talk, describing it as a self-defense mechanism and a way for one mushroom species to stake out turf over another.  Often times, but not always, these mushrooms with toxic properties are categorized as parasites – the potentially harmful group that steals nutrients from host plants weakening and eventually killing them.  Unfortunately, an example of this group, the Honey Mushroom (Armillaria mellea), was found living on some of our trees.  But that’s part of why we do these bioblitzes, to better know our 230 acres and how to manage them. 

 

Marian also talked about a group of mushrooms called symbionts.  These are mutualists that actually benefit their associated host.  Examples include some of the more highly sought after mushrooms such as chanterelles and truffles.  This group is extremely difficult to cultivate because the symbiotic relationship between tree and mushroom takes several decades to form.  Once formed, however, the mushroom benefits by obtaining some of the sugars produced by the tree, and the tree benefits because the intricate mycelial network inhabiting the root zone greatly expands the trees ability to take in water and nutrients (as well as fight off potentially harmful diseases). 

I envision roots wrapped in wooly sweaters wicking in the good stuff and keeping out the bad.  The really cool part is that specific mushrooms are associated with specific trees, and so once the relationship is established you can go back to the same tree year after year and expect to find the same type of mushroom.  This is dependent of course on time of year, weather conditions, and assuming you’ve gotten there first!  I think this is what I really like about mushrooms – they so beautifully illustrate the interconnected nature of nature.  If you know the tree you’re looking at, you’ll know what mushroom to look for, and maybe even what kind of bird or other critter to expect nearby.  A balanced forest ecosystem is like a well choreographed dance, each dance playing an indispensible role and strengthening the overall composition.   

The third group of mushrooms that Marian talked about was the saprophytes.  These are the forest recyclers that obtain their nutrients by breaking down decaying matter.  By doing so, these nutrients are made available to be taken up and used again.  This group was by far the best represented of what we found owing to the time of year and abundance of decaying matter (fallen leaves and mulch).  Because of this, there are already murmurs among our PSMS partners to come again next year, but a little earlier in the season in hopes of finding different species.  So stay tuned, and regardless of what it is about mushrooms that tickles your fancy, come join us next time and take part in this ongoing citizen science experiment to see what we can find living in this wonderland of urban nature that is the Washington Park Arboretum.

Biodiversity is life. Biodiversity is our life.

So the title of this blog entry is also the tagline for 2010, the International Year of Biodiversity, as decreed by the United Nations.  The reason nobody knows this is b/c as Americans we don't pay much attention to the UN.  The only reason I happen to know this bit of trivia is b/c I recently googled the word 'biodiversity' and wikipedia filled me in.  Thank you father interweb.  [In writing this I've come upon a realization...perhaps the paradox of our day.  On the one hand, let's say the right hand, large segments of our population are becoming increasingly insulated (and insolent) in their world view as delivered to them by their local fox new affiliate; on the other hand, the left hand, large segments of our population spend half their waking hours equally isolated in their more virtual existence as global citizens of the world wide web.]

Come to think of it, the www is the perfect analogy to discuss the concept of biodiversity, especially when dealing with a group of iGen kids.  There's another bit of trivia for you, blogosphere faithfuls, the current generation (I think 14 and under, maybe 12) has been declared the 'iGeneration'.  I witnessed the appropriateness of this moniker on the bus today as a screaming toddler was subdued at once when handed mom's cell phone.  (of course said toddler's two older bros started hitting each other and screaming in order to earn similar privileges, but as the 3rd of 4 brothers, there's a nostalgic charm to the sound of fraternal fray.)  But I digress...biodiversity, the world wide web.  Now that I think about it some more, the www doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of true biodiversity.

The world is literally teaming with life.  Sure, a lot of the cool stuff is dying off thanks to the perturbations brought on by their hominoid brother, us, but it teams none the less.  I highly encourage carrying around a magnifying glass.  I started doing so by accident, but now I reach for it almost reflexively if I have more than 30 seconds to kill (like a 6th grader reaches for their cellphone).  I had it yesterday on top of Hellmut's roof while cleaning out the gutters.  The sludge of errant forest debris, rain-water & sand-sized gravel roofing grit turns out to be a pretty good place to live for quite a few species of wigglies (non-scientific term).  And this doesn't even begin to account for the micro-organisms all around us (and inside of us).  Biodiversity if life.  Biodiversity is our life.  It's starting to make more sense now.      

E.O. Wilson said that when we lose biodiversity we risk having the whole web of life fall apart.  In other words, biodiversity is the fabric with which the web of life is woven.  No species is an island, and every time one is lost, more than just that species is affected, sometimes severely. Here's a fun activity - think of how the other species of the world would be affected if we disappeared.  Perhaps our dogs would miss us, but even our dogs would adjust.  Because that's what the world does, it self-regulates.  When the equilibrium is wronged, like one of those boats that can't sink, it does what it needs to do to right itself.

So here's to 2010, the Year of Biodiversity.  Not only the fabric of the web of life, but of the safety net as well.  Even if we 'wise men' don't survive ourselves, something will.  It may not have the intelligence to create political factions, make things explode, or even understand it's own importance to the universe, but it will be life none the less, and therefore miraculous.  If you'd like to learn more about 2010, the International Year of Biodiversity, check it out next time you're communing with your global community:  http://www.unep.org/iyb/.  And if you're looking for a way to celebrate, here's 3 possibilities:  a) go pick up a magnifying glass; b) take the time to thank your local micro-organisms, they got your back; or c) take part in the Bioblitz going on at the Arboretum in a couple weeks (May21/22).

Urban Heat Islands

So it struck me the other day while winding through the country roads to Mt. Baker, that there is a potential fly in the ointment of a phenological calendar kept to record the effects of a changing climate as written in the trees, the birds, the bees... 

2008 marked the point in history where 50% of the world's human inhabitants could be classified as city-dwellers.  That percentage is only going to grow as a) these city-dwellers beget city-dwellers, and b) cities continue to extend their outskirts outward like the growth rings of a tree or the bands of a snail's shell.  Even as urban planners come to embrace the concept of building up rather than out, more and more forest and meadow is being substituted with asphalt and blacktop. 

Collectively, these paved surfaces absorb more of the sun's heat than the natural surfaces they replaced and as a result, the temperature of the immediate surroundings goes up - a phenomenon called 'the urban heat island effect'.  I was reminded of this today on the frisbee field while looking out over the turf & track and seeing the blurry heat waves radiating upward.  Even this mostly green 'field' (with its little black bits of chewed up tire) is contributing to Seattle's heat island.  This increase in temperature undoubtedly plays a role in determining bloom times within the urban landscape.  To my knowledge, this is a factor that is overlooked by citizen scientist groups such as the USA National Phenological Network mentioned in my previous post.

What are the implications of such an oversight, and does it devalue the work being done.  I think not.  It simply means that we need to look at the data through a more refined lens, a lens that takes into account the effects of the concrete jungle.  The world has moved into new territory, territory that more often than not has been altered in some way by human hands.  The phenological records accumulated over the centuries no longer fully apply, we need a new baseline.  As our population of urbanites grows, so too does our footprint upon this Earth.  And while I used to see our ever burgeoning numbers as the biggest obstacle to our survival, I now see it as our biggest opportunity. 

Our species has made so many mistakes since leaving our Mother's tender, loving and brutal care.  Her's is a tough love based on natural consequences, and it has kept the natural world in order for billions of years.  But in the 100,000 years that our kind has been around, we've stubbornly opted to forge our own way.  We've invented our own accounting system, and adopted our own set of rules to get to this point.   The mistakes we've made along the way are due in most part because we simply didn't know any better.  And while we've been bumbling through this existence with the swagger of a cowboy (embodied by our former president), we've also been learning and improving with every generation. To quote Mr. Vedder, "it's evolution, baby".  

We're even starting to learn humility as we tune our ears to the lessons of our ancestral home.  We're building our cities with an eye on sustainability.  The materials we're using are less harmfully extracted, and in many cases are reclaimed from past ventures.  We understand the value of greenspace as never before and demand that our communities include parks and buffers and tracts of pseudo wilderness.  Swamps have become wetlands, and they're no longer dumps or wastelands needing improvement but refuges, nurseries, and filters needing protection.  Rain barrels, solar panels, porous pavement, electric cars, green roofs...the list of innovations goes on and on. 

It's an exciting time to be alive, and what's most exciting to me is that the kids I meet these days totally 'get it'.  And as their numbers grow, so too does our pool of great ideas and our capacity to move mountains.  "Many hands make light work", and while the work in front of us is anything but light, we certainly do have many hands.  According to Nat Geo, swaths of forests the size of Panama are cut down each year, and if deforestation continues at it's current rate, there will be no forests left in 100 yrs.  This is tragic and must change, but think for a moment about all those hands across the world engaged in a re-forestation project. 

Earth Day is coming up blogosphere, the 40th anniversary if I'm not mistaken.  I challenge each and everyone of you to do as John Denver instructed and "plant a tree for your tomorrow".  I can think of no single action more powerful.  Trees suck up CO2 and store it away in something useful (wood), they oxygenate the planet, slow down storm water, provide habitat for animals jungle gyms for kids, fodder for poets, artists and scientists alike, and inspiration for romantics like me.  On top of all of these things, if you plant your tree in a city, it will help mitigate that heat island effect that started this rant.  And if you live in Seattle, the city will even provide the trees, check it out here.  Good luck and happy planting.      
   
     

Phenominal phenology

Phenology is derived from the Greek word phaino, meaning to show or appear. It is the study of recurring plant and animal life cycle events, or phenophases, such as leafing and flowering, maturation of agricultural plants, emergence of insects, and migration of birds.

I've always been into this particular branch of science.  It's old school.  It's low tech.  It's outside.  It's time tested and mother(earth) approved.  From an educator's perspective, it has to be one of the simplest  and most effective "lesson plans" to implement while still meeting a whole slew of state mandated learning standards.  From a gardener's perspective, it's what keeps us on our toes and ensures the demise of dull moments.

Phenology's been on my mind a lot lately, and I attribute its mesmerizing power to two things going on right now:  A) an unseasonably warm and record-breaking "winter" in Seattle contrasted with an atypical and record-breaking amount of snowfall back home in VA; and B) a really cool new project that the UWBG is taking part in called the Floral Report Card.  Its a rare and pleasant case of work and life meeting face to face.       

In light of these record-breaking phenomena taking place on both coasts, phenology takes on new meaning and importance in predicting what "normal" will mean as rapidly rising CO2 levels play out on the global climate stage and wreak havoc on all the computer models.  Life, as has been proven over the last 2 billion+ years, is remarkably adaptable.  Humans may very well be moving into uncharted territory, but we're still infants in the grand scheme of things.  For the plants and the insects and the birds that we share the biosphere with, climate change is nothing new.  So in seeking answers to the unexplainable, we need only look to where our species has always looked, to nature, to tap the Earth's pulse.

Hardiness zones are like national boundaries in Central Asia, or voting districts in Texas - ever shifting and never lasting.  The Floral Report Card project is attempting to harness the power of citizen-science and the interweb to create a national database that will help to redefine those hardiness zones as they fluctuate.  The gardening community will find this information helpful in determining the plants they can and cannot include in their landscape plans, and the scientific community will find it helpful in developing more accurate models of climate patterns.  Perhaps most important though is the bond between the natural world and the human species that is strengthened when collectively we stop to smell the roses (and make note of the first daffodil to pop up, cherry blossom to bloom, butterfly to flutter by, etc.). 

Before science became confined to sterilized laboratories, petri dishes and underground particle accelerators, it was free to occupy the open fields, woodlands, bogs and beaches. And all that one had to do to participate in the act of scientific discovery was open ones eyes and really look at the world.  Fortunately, this concept hasn't completely fallen by the wayside, and phenology offers the perfect vehicle to see that it never does.  Einstein put it best when he told us to "look deep, deep into nature and you will understand everything".  Take part in this effort to 'understand everything' by becoming a citizen scientist and sharing your observations on the USA National Phenology Network, and happy hunting.           

Urban Nature v. The Wild

So 'the Christmas gift of the year' for me was my new kindle given to me by the owner of 'the dog of the year', and in so doing may have locked in 'father-in-law of the year'...but the jury's still out.  Regardless, I've decided that we as a community need more of such distinctions.  A little recognition brings people together, gives us something to talk about, makes us smile (or gives us something to jealous over). 

For example, if you live in Seattle, I encourage you to send me in your nomination for 'street tree of the month'.  Simply take a picture, send it my way, and my panel of judges (yet to be determined) will decide who wins.  The winner gets all the fame the www. has to offer a tree, and the owner gets to say, "my tree won 'street tree of the month' in January 2010". 

But back to the 'gift of the year', the kindle...I love it because it makes me read more.  And while that means I write less, I don't feel guilty about it because reading is good for the brain and good for the soul.  Maybe one day I'll even start reading on a treadmill or something and it'll be good for my body too. 

So what have I been reading lately...coincidentally, a book about urban nature, and some essays written by my '2010 hero of the year', John Muir, which are always set in the wildest places that nature has to offer...because that's how John Muir, a rugged Scotsman if there ever was one, rolled.  The book about urban nature is called Crow Planet by a Seattle native who got fascinated with crows (as many of us are) and who beautifully makes the case for valuing what little nature does exist between the cracks of our concrete jungles.

On the one hand, I find myself drawn to this notion of making the most of what we have at our fingertips and learning to appreciate fully the places, faces and things we come in daily contact with.  It reminds me of something E.O. Wilson said about the virtues of being a microbiologist vs. a macrobiologist.  When out in the field doing research, Wilson had only to walk 5 feet before becoming completely enthralled in the underside of a log, whereas his macrobiologist counterparts would have to walk miles and miles before finding something of interest.

And from that perspective, I totally see value in 'urban nature'.  It's why I think it's a good idea for EE programs to focus their teaching on common, everyday features of our lives.  In the PacNW, that's spiders, crows, mushrooms, dandy-lions, cedars, rain, etc.  Especially in the fieldtrip frame work, we should aim to show kids how/what to look for so that they can continue to 'research' these things on their own and teach others when the opportunity arises.  And if the lesson revolves around ubiquitous characters such as crows, opportunities will always arise.

And then there's the other side of me that lives vicariously through John Muir's adventures in the wild. One of the last things I read of his was titled 'Stickeen' and told the story of one particular hike over Alaskan glaciers with this dog named Stickeen.  I was riveted to every word and at one point found myself crying on a bus-ride home (part of my effort to shrink that old carbon footprint).  And it wasn't even sad!  It was just intense, and at that moment I realized... I need to get out more.  If reading about the ferocity of nature will bring me to tears, what will experiencing it do?

So as I settle into teaching EE in my new outdoor classroom at the Arboretum, I do so with a mixture of eagerness, responsibility and renewed curiosity to see what I can find and how I can share it.  At the same time I know that if I don't get out for regular doses of wilderness and adventure I will grow stale and soft and either sell out or burn out before I have the chance to make the impact I want to make on this world.  And so even on this Tuesday evening, I look forward to Saturday and a rendezvous with some snowshoes and a mountain. 

Until then, I return to my crows and my kindle and the continued signs of spring peeking around the corner. 

Resolution: twentyten

It's been too long blogosphere, and there is so much I need to share...

First and foremost, however, a recent visit to the California Academy of Sciences in SF has inspired a new years resolution that's worth repeating, "in 2010, I will reduce my carbon footprint". 

It's such a simple statement to make, and so easy to actually do that I fear for its staying power in the American psyche - so crowded with ticker-tape news reels, holiday bombardment and the steady din of progress.  I fear this statement, "I will reduce my carbon footprint" will become trite and politicized before it has a chance to sink in.  This would be unfortunate, because if it doesn't sink in, and if we don't start acting en masse, life as we know it will become life as we knew it. 

What struck me about this exhibit was its delivery.  As a firm believer in 'learning by doing' and a connoisseur of interactive museum installations, the designers/educators nailed this display.  If you have the time/interest, you can check it out here, but the basic concept is a giant scale (I think we called them "triple beam balances" in science class).  On one side of the scale are several "beams" each of which represents a different part of our life where we use carbon (i.e. transportation).  Visitors are asked to slide weights to approximately where on the beam their daily life puts them, come up with a total amount of carbon used/yr, and then balance that number out on the other side.  In this case, this sliding scale on the other side was equated to a $ figure.  The message was, "if you use X amount of carbon per year, you need to pay $X to off-set that number and sleep better at night knowing you haven't contributed to Earth becoming the next Mars."  An environmental tithe if you will.

So what if you can't afford rent much less pay for your yearly carbon output?  Or what if you're a skeptic about everything and everyone, especially when it comes to giving your money to some sketchy business in Timbuktu that promises to plant trees for you in the desert?  Fortunately for those of us in these categories, we can simply alter our daily routines just a smidgen to make that statement a true one, "in 2010, I will reduce my carbon footprint".

For a full list of some ways to get started check out this link. 

The ones that surprised/stood out for me:

+ don't use the dryer (obviously a summer time thing in Seattle)
+ use the microwave over the oven (so counter to my fear/distrust of microwaves)
+ stick a full 1 liter bottle in your toilet tank (using less water uses less carbon, double bonus)
+ buy used furniture (I can put you in touch with a great antique dealer...Hi Mom!)
+ don't idle to warm your car up, or ever for that matter if > 6secs (modern cars have very efficient fuel injectors, not the smog belching carburetors of old)
+ unplug stuff when not using
+ eat with your hands!

and in keeping with the spirit of the Soggy Gardener, some ideas for the garden:

+ plant edibles wherever possible (from ground covers to climbers to trees)
+ plant marigolds to ward of pests in your veggie garden
+ leave your grass clippings on the lawn
+ catch/use your rainwater
+ become friends with your neighbors (especially ones that you can borrow occasionally needed stuff from...it's not mooching if you share your stuff too). 

{My apologies for the poor quality of the video...I just checked it out for the first time.  I got a new toy for xmas and am still figuring it out.  Look for more "on location" video blogs to come}

Happy gardening and good luck twentyten the year of the (carbon neutral) Dragon. 

ps.  While I was sad to report that my teaching gig at Karkeek park came to a close, I'm happy to report that I got a new full-time gig at UWBG where I'm now the Education Supervisor.  I'm stoked for this new opportunity not only b/c its a dream job for me, but it will also provide plenty of fodder for future posts, so stay tuned!