Category Archives: Environment

Global Warming—the New Normal

Globally, this year is shaping up to be the fourth hottest on record. The only years hotter were the three previous ones.

Since modern record-keeping began, seventeen of the eighteen warmest years have occurred since 2001.

WAKE UP CLIMATE CHANGE DENIERS, because temperatures are going to continue to rise, heat waves will only grow hotter and more intense, fires and floods will forge on, annihilating everything and anything in their path.

Make no mistake about it: Our world is getting hotter and will threaten and ultimately destroy our basic necessities for survival like food, water, and electricity.

Prepare for Climageddon because diminishing food supply, water scarcity, and unreliable electricity is in our future.

Ice caps are melting, wildfires are raging, and some of the most beautiful places on earth will cease to exist.

Places like Key West, Florida, the Rhône Valley in France, the Alps, California’s Nappa Valley, the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, Venice, Italy, Glacier National Park in Montana, the Dead Sea, the Maldives, the Amazon, and Alaska are suffering severe global warming consequences, with some facing the prospect of vanishing entirely.

And what’s so incredibly frightening is that so far efforts to tame the heat have all failed miserably.

But the absolute scariest part about all of this is that WITHOUT THE U.S. GOVERNMENT, the rest of the world has united to fight climate change.

Thanks for the win, Donald.

The Hurricane Club

I hope you never become a member of our quickly expanding club.

But as someone all too familiar with the hurricane/flooding/seepage drill, I have some tips for the newcomers to our unfortunate alliance.

We flooded out in Hurricane Irene and then got hit again, less than one year later, during Hurricane Sandy.

The first thing you’ll need to do is throw away your furniture, all your soggy remains of irreplaceable keepsake memories, your precious photo albums, rugs, clothing, shoes, computer monitors, appliances, pretty much everything.

Then, remove all affected drywall, which for us always meant “to the studs.” Look it up.

Carefully lug and pile the thousands of pounds of the putrid, sodden remnants of your belongings into a mountain shape to avoid your used-to-be valuables from spilling onto the street.

And most importantly, immediately eviscerate the quickly growing black mold that will undoubtedly pop up and spread out. It’s nasty and hard as hell to get rid of. If you can afford an expert to take on the removal task, I recommend that you do so. Any attempt to DIY can be dangerous. If the black mold doesn’t mess up your breathing, the bleach and other chemicals you will need to use to annihilate it will surely wreak havoc on your lungs.

Oh, and keep a close watch out for termites. I learned the hard way that they love wet wood, duh.

When Hurricane Sandy made landfall on October 29, 2012, it frighteningly and ferociously plummeted our house. As the water swiftly raged down my usually quiet street, it  carried metal generators, garbage cans,  huge pieces of wood and tree branches, and nearly covered the parked cars. My husband and I were alone and regretting our decision to remain in the house.

As the water lapped onto our lawn in waves, it inched closer and closer to our front door.

We were in a panic, and grabbed towels and sheets from our linen closet, and stuffed them against our front and garage doors. The linens didn’t work out so well.

The water seeped into our garage but mercifully stopped at our front door.

That was the nightmare happening in the front of the house.

In the back of the house, right off our kitchen, I was monitoring the movement of the 70 foot Oak tree in my neighbor’s back yard.  The wind was howling through the tree’s 100-foot canopy, causing it to whip back and forth in the wind, like a weed.  And there was no doubt that it was precariously thrashing and bending in the direction of our house.

Water was gushing onto our property in the front of the house, and a ginormous tree was readying itself to come crashing down on us in the back.  I was feeling panicky, but I wanted to appear in control of the situation.  It was my stupid idea to stay put.

Then our electricity went out so we could no longer see the torrent of water in the front of the house. I guess that was a good thing.

But it wasn’t dark enough in the back of the house to camouflage that damn solid Oak tree literally pulled from its roots, and looming in our direction.

I strongly suggested to my husband that we go up to our bedroom, which was the highest room in the house, to escape the treacherous storm surge.  He adamantly disagreed and suggested we go down into the basement. He was fairly confident that if the tree came down, it would in all probability crash into our bedroom.

I reluctantly agreed with his analysis.

But the basement?  The water was heaving itself onto our front lawn in wave after wave, and he wanted to move in the downward direction?

It was a surreal conversation.

Do we take our chances in the basement and hope that the water wouldn’t crash through the windows and drown us? Or do we move to higher ground and chance getting gored by Oak tree branches?

As we argued in the hallway about whether we should go up or down, there was a massive crash in the back of our house, which sent a shock wave through the entire structure.

After a long bear hug, my husband looked at me and weirdly casually said: “Well let’s see if the tree is in our house.”

As we crept up our stairs, we saw bright crackling and spits of flame through the kitchen window. That not so grand old Oak lay a mere three feet from our house, which was a miraculous thing.  The 70-foot behemoth with its 100-foot canopy had smashed onto our property, taking fences, trees, electrical lines, our deck, and everything else in its path with it.

It also took off a small piece of our jutting roof, but the rest of our house and our lives had thankfully been spared.

I recall grabbing my husband in terror as he calmly looked out at the crackling wires on the tree and then quietly announced: “We can go up to the bedroom now.”

The next few days were nightmarish. But as a member of the Hurricane Club, we had been down this devastating road before. So we began the arduous task of cleaning up.

Except one week later, we had an early season snowstorm which dumped more than a foot of snow on us.

Fortunately, the coastal flooding from the storm was minor, but it brought any hope of recovery to a screeching halt.

Immediately following Hurricane Sandy, gas stations were out of gasoline, there were slim pickings at the only walkable grocery store, whole boulevards had been washed away, and rebuilding seemed like an impossible task.

For close to three weeks we endured no heat, no electricity, and only ice cold water for showers. Thankfully our toilets were working.  But our cell phones were dead, so it was difficult to communicate with the outside world.

We were in survival mode. And it was freezing cold in our house. Our paltry supply of food and drinks were packed into coolers we found in our soggy garage, now strewn about on our destroyed deck.

And then of course there was that damned tree, a reminder of the work ahead of us.

 

But survive we did.

As we walked through our neighborhood, the devastation was heartbreaking. Amidst the snow drifts, downed trees cut off many of the streets, houses were demolished, rotting dead fish were oddly strewn about, and workers who had come from all over the country to assist in the recovery and rebuilding were assessing the damage.

Reminders of Hurricane Sandy are still everywhere. Five years later, many victims are still recovering and rebuilding.

With the arrival of Harvey and Irma, the Hurricane Club will sadly be expanding its membership.

Irma, who has already ripped through the Caribbean, now has her sights on Florida.

As someone who survived Sandy, I would strongly advise anyone in Irma’s path to get the hell out of dodge.

And then courageously prepare for the new normal.

Beware of Tick-Infested Acorns

Who knew Oak trees ladened with acorns could result in Lyme disease?

In 1969, the first case of Lyme disease in the U.S. was discovered in a grouse hunter from Wisconsin.

But the disease didn’t get its name until 1975, when there was an outbreak in children from Lyme, Connecticut.  And then in 1982, the bacteria responsible for causing the disease was finally identified.

The Pennsylvania Game Commission’s website states that in 2009 95% of reported cases of Lyme disease in the U.S. occurred in the following 12 states: Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Wisconsin, Maryland, Minnesota, New Hampshire, Delaware, Maine, and Virginia.

According to the Cary Institute of Ecosystem Studies, a bumper crop of acorns could be putting the U.S. on the brink of an unprecedented outbreak of Lyme disease. Rick Ostfeld, a disease ecologist at the Cary Institute, estimates that 300,000 Americans are diagnosed with Lyme disease each year, but that the illness is now on track to being the worst in 2017.

Because acorns are a critical food for white-footed mice, as acorn production surges, mouse population climbs, giving rise to more disease-carrying ticks. White-tailed deer also feed on acorns.

The mice and deer both carry ticks that drop off in the winter. The following year the female ticks lay their eggs and hatch larval ticks. Those larval ticks become infected when they feed on the mice and deer, so the whole process takes about two years.

Additionally, the Lyme bacteria has also been found in Eastern chipmunks, short-tailed shrews, coyotes, raccoons, rabbits, and feral cats. Domestic animals including cats, dogs, cattle, and horses can also become infected.  The bacteria have also been found in many bird species including but not limited to the ring-necked pheasant, mallard, wild turkey, house wren, song thrush, American robin, gray catbird, song sparrow, and house sparrow.

With no Lyme disease vaccine available for humans there is not much that can be done to prevent the illness except for the standard anti-tick measures like head to toe clothing when in the woods and diligent tick-checks. There are Lyme disease vaccines available for pets.

Ticks can be as tiny as a pin prick, and easy to miss. Not everyone gets a rash, and flu-like symptoms are easily overlooked and/or misdiagnosed.

Bottom line? Stay far away from acorns.

Why Is My Water Brown?

Glass of water 2-19-16

Since my blog post on February 24 concerning my murky brown water, I am no closer to an answer as to why it continues to be the color that it is. See that post  here: We Are All Flint Michigan

Before I continue with this blog post, though, I feel compelled, as I did in my last  undrinkable water post, to once again protect myself:

All data and information provided in this blog post are for informational purposes only. I make no representations as to the accuracy, completeness, currentness, suitability, or validity of any information in this blog post and will not be liable for any errors, omissions, or delays in this information or any losses, injuries, or damages arising from its display or use. All information is provided on an as-is basis.  

Now I am ready to blast off.

To state it nicely, my water is unacceptable.

Here is my question.

Who is to blame, and why hasn’t sufficient money been spent to improve a fundamental need—and a human right—which is clean and drinkable water?

And sorry, but I don’t feel the government’s pain when they say they are out of money. And I blame both the Democrats and the Republicans for my brown and undrinkable water situation.

Since my last blog post, I have purchased a 10-cup Zero Water filtration system which seems to work well. I have been using the filtered water for coffee and boiling but will stick to Poland Spring for drinking.

I have also diligently continued my research as to why certain contaminants deemed unsafe in our drinking water remain unregulated by the EPA.

And more importantly, I have been researching so see if those contaminants are lurking in my dark brown and undrinkable water. And make no mistake about it, my research results have been fairly frightening.

To add insult to injury, my water company insists that:

There are State and Federal water quality standards that allow certain levels of “contaminants” to be present in the water.  I must stress that Nassau County Department of Health has strict regulatory oversight of the public water systems and that the water delivered to the county residents meets all drinking water standards.”

Huh? Thank you for your assurances, water company, but if all of the above is true, please explain why my water is brown?

I would like to share a recent example of people thinking their water is safe to drink based on testing and state assurances and then finding out otherwise.

The New York Times had an article on Tuesday, March 15, regarding tainted water in Vermont and New York.

Here are the cliff notes:

In recent weeks, several private wells in North Bennington, Vermont, have tested positive for the industrial chemical perfluorooctanoic acid, or PFOA. This contaminant has been linked to cancer, thyroid, and heart disease, serious pregnancy complications, and birth defects, making North Bennington the latest in a growing list of American communities unsettled by a contaminated water scare.

PFOA was also discovered in the public drinking water in the village of Hoosick Falls, N.Y., prompting residents to rely on bottled water amid charges that the state took far too long to respond to the problem. It was also found in public wells in Petersburgh, N.Y., the site of a plastics factory south of Hoosick Falls.

Not surprising to me, the state of New York has repeatedly assured citizens of Hoosick Falls that their water was safe.

And last week, as environmental officials in New York and Vermont searched for other potentially contaminated areas, officials in Merrimack, N.H., announced that PFOA had been discovered there as well.

And the number of people found to be drinking water tainted by PFOA is almost certain to grow.

PFOA was once used to manufacture non-stick pans, microwaveable popcorn wrappers, and Gore-Tex boots— and practically anything that is non-stick, stain-resistant, or water-repellent. But the health effects PFOA causes and the way it spreads and contaminates are not well understood.

In August 2015, the nonprofit organization, Environmental Working Group, found that the EPA’s “safe” level of PFOA is possibly thousands of times too weak and has been detected in 94 public water systems in 27 states, serving nearly seven million people. http://www.ewg.org/research/teflon-chemical-harmful-smallest-doses/pfoa-found-94-public-water-systems-27-states

And even more alarming was that when I checked out which 27 states had PFOA in their water, New York was one of them.

And guess what? It turns out that my county — Nassau — via the Town of Hempstead Water District, serving 110,000 people, has PFOA in its water.

Does that mean my water contains PFOA?    

And get a load of this:

Even though New York State was advised that there were concerning levels of PFOA present in the water going back as far as 2005, they claim that no one did anything about it because PFOA was and remains an unregulated EPA contaminant.

Sounds to me like someone is trying to pass the buck.

And according to scientists, even as the chemical PFOA continues to contaminate water across the country, government agencies, from local health departments to the federal EPA, have yet to grapple with the full extent of the problem or what it will take to clean it up.

It doesn’t take a scientist to tell me that the EPA needs to lower the level at which it says water containing PFOA is safe to drink. ASAP.

I mean, come on already. Can the EPA assure me that my water, which may or may not contain PFOA, is safe to drink? And can my water company give me the same assurance?

Is anyone accountable here?

And now that I’m on a roll, here is something else I want to share:

When I had my hot water heater and pipes flushed out a couple of weeks ago, the company I used— Hot Water Plus — told me that they usually offer a 60-day clear water guarantee. Oh, but not in my neighborhood.

Maybe my water company can give me some insight as to why not?

And speaking of my water company, I recently noticed a water main flushing advertisement in my local paper, letting customers know that New York American Water is preparing to flush the water mains in its distribution system to help them provide us with high-quality water service.

Oh, and by the way, customers may experience discolored water. The flushing will take place Monday through Friday between 4/11 and 4/21—a whopping nine days.

I can only imagine what color my water will look like after they flush.

The advertisement also suggested we go to their website and view our water quality report. Except that one needs to be a rocket scientist to read and understand it.

Here is what I have to say to my water company: Based on your claims, that the water delivered to my county residents may meet all drinking water standards, but that doesn’t mean it is safe and/or drinkable.

Many state officials, including New York, have suggested that the absence of strong guidelines from the EPA is at fault for the tainted water problems residents all over the country have recently uncovered.

And yet many of those residents had to aggressively push their local governments to look into the situation—instead of the other way around.

Our local government is responsible for managing and delivering a range of quality services to their communities, including drinkable water, correct?

The American water crisis is an example of government failure, unpreparedness, intransigence, inaction, delay, denial, and environmental injustice.

But never underestimate the power of citizen engagement and our ability to speak out and protest against government inaction.

Thankfully there are concerned Americans out there who are willing to question and challenge government leadership.

And thanks also to a free press, the watchdogs who uncover the injustices and shout them out to the masses.

As is the case with all other economic and social injustices, Shakespeare said it best: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.”