Energy Circle : Peggy in Toronto

Hot Fingers: The Evolution of Christmas Lights.

Peggy — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 16:58:31 +0000

As we head into Thanksgiving, we embrace the power of tradition in all of its sundry digestible forms - the soft muck of sweet potatoes covered in brown sugar crumble, cranberry in the shape of a can (including those funky little horizontal lines), the beans, the noise, the bad jokes, the magical expansion of waist lines. And in our house, burnt fingers.

When I was a child, black Friday was the day we put lights on the pine tree between our house and the Donahue's. While our neighbors snuck out of their driveway to hit the mall, we dragged the Christmas lights out of the basement and started to untangle them on the living room floor, like a small well-trained unit preparing for battle. I don't know how, exactly, the strings of lights managed to become so intricately intertwined over the summer, wrapped around and through each other in a bizzare ritual of bulbs-in-a-box intimacy, but they did, and the untangling usually took until lunch time, at which point we would stretch the strings straight down the hall in a proud display of diligence and rigor, and head for the cheese steaks.

That's when, more or less, the dogs and neighborhood children came streaming in to get away from their parents, who had come home from black Friday shopping foul and scary yelling, "Don't look. Go away," and other spirited holiday mantras. The kids stomped clear across our neatly lined up strings. One or two bulbs shattered, and one paw opened up just enough to leave a thread-like trail of blood across the dining room rug. We were all told to go outside and wait there for lunch.

After lunch, we plugged the lights in and weeded out the duds. In the later years, the indoor bulbs were small like they are now, but individually charged. We could pop out a non-working bulb and replace it relatively easily, with one of the 3 replacement bulbs that came with the kit. The outdoor lights were the size of small chandelier bulbs and easily replaced by unscrewing them from the socket and reaching into the hammer drawer for the spare bulb collection. The line could not be plugged in for more than 5 minutes, however, so we had to work fast - identifying dead bulbs and unscrewing them before they got too hot to touch. The shattered bulbs were trickier, and the ones that exploded in our hands were a mess of paper thin shards and wiry filament. It was my brother Teddy who taught us all to remove those bulbs with nail tweezers, and Teddy who demonstrated for us why it's better to unplug the string before you make that metal to metal take place. Sometimes a single socket was dead. We'd weed through the garbage for a bright colored dead bulb, screw it in and call it good.

Hanging bulbs on the tree, of course, began with plugging them in. My brothers wrapped the hot bulbs around the limbs of the tree, first carefully and then hastily and finally with some degree of pain, reaching between the lights to grasp the green cord whenever possible, finally flinging the bulbs at the higher branches. My father barked orders - "not like that" - "There's a holiday over there" (by which he meant a big bald spot). A crowd gathered in the later years, when my brothers were older and the tree warranted the use of a ladder. Charlie put on gardening gloves, which seemed an impossibly clever insight.

By nightfall, our tree was the glowing focal point of the street. The Donahues cheered and vowed to help more next year. Teddy invited everyone in for a drink, my mother tilted her head in resigned alarm, and Charlie quietly nursed his battered finger tips. I ran the empty cardboard boxes back down to the basement, wondering what magic in them made lights tangle, and when I emerged, we all focused on eating again.

Things change. The Donahues moved. We moved. That tree is so big now that you'd have to hire paratroopers to rig it up. Teddy is gone, and I live too far away to go home for a holiday that doesn't exist in my country. My father doesn't bark orders anymore, and thanks be to trees and innovation, those bulbs have been replaced with cooler, safer alternatives.

And Friday morning, Charlie will be with my parents. He will go down to the basement in their small house and find the cardboard box of lights he carefully put away last year. He will take them out and plug them in. Whole strings won't work, and he'll toss them out. He's told me he's going to replace them with LED bulbs, because he likes how they look, and because he cares about how much electricity lights use. (LED strings use about 80% less juice, and that matters). He'll put all the lights on timers because it will make my parents' lives easier. No crowds will gather, and my father won't bark orders. But Charlie will wheel him outside and ask for guidance and approval, to put him in charge. And my parents will be, as is appropriate, living inside a festive home.

After all the cut paws and burned finger tips are forgotten, that's what we had, after all: a festive home. And that's what I wish for you this holiday season.

Go ahead and get festive ... and use LEDs - for the sake of your finger tips, that poor beautiful tree - and the planet.

Conserve Water and Reduce Stress: No Duka.

Peggy — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 21:26:19 +0000

Using hot water in our houses is second nature. It is also a form of double suffering. A while back I was introduced to the ways of double suffering by a Sri Lankan Buddhist Monk with a sense of humor. He referred to moments when we suffer and then beat ourselves up for suffering as "double duka" which is as close to an onomatopoetic form of spirituality as I've ever heard. So you didn't get that job? Duka. You bang your head on the wall in frustration as a result? Double Duka.

For a more formalized take on this, consider the BBC on the topic:

The Buddhists' realisation was that the experience of ultimate truth was consonant with the ending of duka, and duka, whether this be depression, anxiety, frustration or a more general sense of pointlessness, concerns us all in the here and now of our lives. It's not a matter of belief, nor in Buddhism do you have to believe that there is such a thing as liberation or ultimate truth. Just put an end to suffering and stress...

Our use of water (before it's made hot) has an element of anxiety to it. Water is a scarce resource, and we know, even as we watch it shoot down the drain, that lives are being lost and crops are dying for want of the stuff we use to wash grapes. This often sidelined duka is literally doubled when we make efforts to make our water warm. If you are not equipped with an Evolve shower start showerhead (duka for you), then you probably turn the shower on, walk away to get your robe and slippers then return in a heap big hurry, for fear wasted hot water is pouring down the drain. Why do you care so much about THAT water? Because you have spent money and either electricity (see: coal/power plants) or oil (see: war) to heat that water up. Or maybe you just hear my mother's voice in your head squealing: Don't Waste Hot Water. Either way, those moments are the good ones.

The less good moments in our relationship with hot water take place when a task is completely automated and we completely forget hot water is involved. Consider the dishwasher. Consider the washing machine. We flip a switch, we walk away, and we return to find things like bowls and blue jeans miraculously clean. My cheery Buddhist monk would not advocate making purchases in order to reduce your suffering. But frankly, I will. We have enough to worry about without nattering at our children to get out of the shower or wringing our hands over spilled... water. The time is now. Lighten up. Literally, and figuratively. Buy a faucet aerator, buy an adapter to make your favorite showerhead clever and low-flow, and when it's time, upgrade your water guzzling appliances with more energy and water efficient versions. In the meantime, do your wash with cold water. Throw in a little white vinegar to help the cycle along.

And then, breathe easy. No more duka for you.

Indoor Air Test: Is Your House Breathing Properly?

Peggy — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 18:35:44 +0000

In colder climates, now is the time we feel it: the room that stays cold like a pinky in a worn-out glove. It is also the time we start to feel the press of stale air, wondering if we are ventilating our houses well enough. While we think a home energy audit continues to be the best way to discern how air is moving in/out/and through your house, we recently came across a simple air circulation test you can do at home, for free. You need two things: a garbage bag and a wire coat hanger or piece of cardboard to control the opening of the bag.

Consult the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation site for complete directions. This test will give you a good sense of whether your ventilation system is working, or whether your heating system is up to par.

We have written about the power of a (good, quiet) bathroom fan to help keep your home properly ventilated. This test will help you determine whether that fan works, and whether the air flow generated is sufficient for your family.

It's also a useful activity for determining whether your heating system is performing at its rated efficiency: often, leaky ducts can waste heat by sending it off into the basement or the attic when it should be going straight to the living area. You're paying for it, you should certainly get to enjoy it.

The test takes just a few minutes (and, speaking from experience, your kid home with the flu can tape the bag to a hanger while watching cartoons). Don't get floored by the metric - there's no need to convert. Let us know what you find out.

After the Home Energy Audit: Skilled Contractors and Taking Action.

Peggy — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 17:24:21 +0000

I learned a new term at the Energy Retrofits conference in Toronto today: “Resignaction,” The term describes a homeowner after a home energy audit who is presented with such a wealth of options that he is overwhelmed and ends up doing nothing at all. The speaker was John Jeza. His point hit a nerve. We have talked about the beauty of home energy audits with some regularity here at EnergyCircle, and we’ve been explicit about the need to ensure that you receive a report that is both detailed, and where possible, prioritized. And let’s say, hypothetically, you get just that. Are you ready to take action? Is the list enough?

Chances are, the answer is “no.” Which leads to the question, what stands in your way?

One of the biggest hurdles raised during a thought-provoking session led by Gail Lawlor was that homeowners lack sufficient confidence in renovation contractors. This uncertainty leads to several detrimental impacts. The first is that we might not do the work at all, because we don't know who to get to do it. (Consult our article on deciding between a contractor and purist for more information about this); the second is that we might hire a contractor with expertise that makes us feel comfortable going after the "low hanging fruit" but not going for deep energy retrofits. In other words, we lose an opportunity to undertake significant retrofits, to save more energy and make our homes more comfortable and more valuable. From an environmental perspective, we lose the opportunity to drastically reduce our carbon emissions, in favor of incremental reductions. Skilled contractors are the key to homeowners taking that step.

In order for that to happen, contractors need training, and homeowners need a tool to find qualified home performance contractors. As to the first part, opportunities abound for contractors to become trained and certified to provide home energy retrofits. Organizations like the Building Performance Institute (BPI) present training opportunities throughout North America. Once certified, contractors face the task of making their expertise known. As one panelist pointed out, "You are running a business." By which he meant, create a brand. Let people know what you do. Market yourself.

Ultimately, this will benefit homeowners as well. As we become aware not only of what we need to do, but also who is available to help us, we may be able to move from "resignaction" to "eneraction."

Energy Auditors are Problem Solvers, Advisors, House Doctors.

Peggy — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 15:25:57 +0000

For the second time I have attended an Affordable Comfort Institute conference and come away with a stark realization: my desire to have a home energy audit (evaluation or assessment) has almost nothing to do with energy savings. Reducing my energy bill will be a side benefit (and a huge one, quite possibly helping the assessment pay for itself). But I want to have someone assess my house so that I can figure out whether it is safe to live in and structurally sound. I want to know what's going on under my roof.

As Steve Tratt noted during a presentation on air sealing, this sentiment is not unusual. He and his company, Zero Draft have worked in reams of houses and multi-family dwellings in which the motivation for the call was an irritant that had nothing to do with the utility bill, and the solution was (wait for it... Air Sealing).

What motivates the call: We call for help when we are concerned that our home doesn't feel right. Apartment-dwellers complain about the smoke next door. Home-owners worry about mildew, pests or notice that a floor or ceiling has begun to drop as a result of rot. We call when roofers have returned to replace the roof for the third time over a 5 year period. Something is wrong inside, and another new roof is not going to fix it.

Here is Tratt's list of common household irritants that prompt a call from homeowners:

Cold floors

Cold rooms

Condensation

Drafts

Dirt (including soot gathering around the edges of carpet near baseboards)

Durability (rot)

Dust

Humidity

Ice damming

Insects

Mildew

Moisture
Mold

Noise

Odor (from cooking, cigarette smoke, sewer gas...)

Pests (from raccoons and mice to cockroaches, ladybugs, and flies...)

Smoke

Soot

Wet attics

It is noteworthy that not one of those irritants refers to energy costs. Nevertheless, when they are fixed, the homeowner's energy bill will be significantly reduced. "Conservatively, we're looking at 12-16% reduction in heating and cooling costs," Tratt says.

Who You Gonna Call: We call home energy auditors because they are capable of viewing our dwellings as systems. They recognize that the underpinnings of our roofs may be rotting because of leaks and gaps throughout the house, and the culprit may be a dirt-floored crawlspace or basement. They view our houses through a common-sense but comprehensive lens that, frankly, no other trades-person possesses. Luckily, we have recently posted a resource for finding a home energy auditor in your area.

Home energy auditors are good old-fashioned family practice docs for our houses. General practitioners. They'll refer us to specialists when we need them, but first, they'll give us a clear idea of what's wrong. My inclination to call a roofer about the bulges in our ceiling suddenly feels askew. I wouldn't go to a neurologist with a headache. First, I'd go to the family doc, who will ask what I've been eating, and whether I've had my eyes checked. Getting a new roof is rather like having a CT scan when I what I really need is a new eye-glass prescription. Very expensive, and my headaches won't go away.

Justified. Tratt referred to both the motivation (irritants) and the justification for home energy assessments. How can you justify spending money on a home energy audit, air sealing, insulation or whatever is deemed necessary? Easy. Energy savings. Some of you will start there. Some of you will pull out another, very valuable justification: the planet.

Either way, the end result is a safer, healthier, more comfortable home.

Home Energy Audits - Does "Audit" Make You Think "Taxes?"

Peggy — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 21:08:03 +0000

I have been struck by one significant difference between the Energy Retrofits for Houses Conference I am attending in Toronto, and the Affordable Comfort Conference (ACI) we attended in Kansas City a few months ago: Folks here don’t talk about home energy audits.

I first noted this when John Hockman noted that an early home performance program in Manitoba figured out that home owners were reluctant to participate in part due to a fear of “audits.” “They thought we had something to do with revenue Canada,” Hockman says. “Taxes.” Rather than explain on a case by case basis, the program began referring to the home assessment step as “home evaluations.” Hockman didn’t have numbers to reflect the difference in participation before and after the name switch. It was just an easy, obvious change to make.

A quick stroll among conference exhibitors established that the shift from “audit” was not limited to Manitoba. Both Energuy (energy advisors) and Amerispec (ecoEnergy retrofits for homes) offer home energy services nationally. Both provide initial evaluations or assessments and follow up after work has been completed. Neither uses the word “audit.” The Energuy representative put it this way: “Nobody likes taxes.”

Amerispec’s representative hesitated. “Audit has never been the right word,” he said. “We don’t go into someone’s house and quiz them about what they’ve done, or yell at them for not doing something. It’s not an inspection either. We help people understand what’s going on in their houses and give them suggestions for ways to improve it, and then we go back, and let them know how effective the work they’ve done has been.”

I am a strong believer that words matter. Not long ago, Peter Troast mused that this field might be in need of a new terminology, and offered up that the word “hacker” might be a fitting moniker for those who dig into home energy in homes. But what of the word “audit?” Certainly it has baggage – both here and in the US. It shouldn’t. We’ve written extensively about home energy audits, and never once thought of them as punitive or threatening, because they are neither.

Do we need a better word? Does the word "auditor" make any sense in this context? Chime in. Would you rather have a home energy audit, or a home energy assessment? Does it matter? I suspect it might.

Energy Efficient Homes: Sexy? Maybe Not. But They Feel Better.

Peggy — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 18:06:32 +0000

Over the past year, I've taken a few steps to increase the energy efficiency of my house. There's more to do, but I recently took stock of how a little efficiency here and there has actually made my life sweeter. I frankly hadn't expected that.

5. Friendlier showers. I used to stand buck naked and cranky waiting for the shower to heat up in the morning, waving my hand under the stream of cold water until I'd get frustrated and march off to pick out clothes for the day in a huff. When I got back to the bathroom, it was full of steam, and hot water was trundling down the drain, which made me feel guilty and awful. That's just not a civilized start to the day. The Evolve shower start shower head changed all that. I flick on the shower then trundle off to do whatever I want. Once it's warm, the water flow stops until I step in and pull a little string. Voila. Perfect shower, waiting just for me. I save water, which is good kharma, and I save electricity. Most of all, I save my morning, which is awfully nice for the others in my orbit.

4. Cozier rooms. Last spring we sealed up a couple of the major drafts in the downstairs of our house. The temperature has just started to plummet, and I can already tell the difference. I used to feel like a bit player in a York Peppermint Patty ad when I walked past the front door. ("I feel a cool breeze blowing through my hair.") Now I feel like a regular genius.

3. Less anxiety. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to say that I've got a Freeplay Flashlight Emergency Center, and I'm not afraid of big storms or massive power outages. Sometimes. Because I know that when the power goes out I can find a flashlight and it will work, and when it stops working, I can crank it up and it will work again. No, I don't have 40 gallons of drinking water in my basement. But my neighbor does, and I'm jealous, and I'm going to make her cookies, just in case I need some of that water some day...

2. Less noise. We used to fall asleep to the sound of a computer buzzing upstairs, and the distant tick of a printer shifting mysteriously on its table. No more. The electricity-driven nighttime antics of our electronics are done. Smart strips deny electricity to power vampires, and the house has a softer, gentler feel to it. Even the ice maker takes the night off. Ah, the sound of money not being spent.

1. Better parties. I don't wash dishes by hand any more, because dishwashers use less water. Instead of yelling, "All hands on deck," after dessert, I say, "Don't worry about it - I'm throwing everything in the dishwasher." and I mean it. I sit on my youknowhat and have another glass of wine. It's very peaceful, really, and once word gets around about not having to do my dishes, I'm thinking more people will show up! Extra bonus - less wrinkly hands at the end of the night. I understand that you don't care about my wrinkly hands, but someone does.

October 24 is 350.Org Climate Action Day. Where will you be?

Peggy — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 18:37:46 +0000

I will be here, in Toronto. We're presented with a dizzying variety of ways to get involved. My oldest daughter is going to submit a cartoon for Cartoonists Against Climate Change. Next Saturday might find us all planting trees in Regent Heights, or teaming up with grandparents to send legislators a message about the need for real action on the climate. My partner will wander off with a big lens to take photos of the events around town (check out Climate Day photos here). Chances are, your town or city has at least a handful of venues that will give you a chance to let your hands, feet and heart do some talking. Get to know your community, learn how much of a difference you can make. To find details, go to the International Day of Climate Action site, find your location, and scroll down to find an activity that suits your talents, personality, or time frame.

The International Day of Climate Action is a day designed to get you out of your house. But when you watch this video, you will note that buildings feature prominently. This is not a mistake. Buildings are the single largest contributor to global warming. So while we urge you to step outside next Saturday and join with your neighbors (or neighbours, as the case may be) to announce your commitment to making a change, we want to encourage you to hold on to that spirit of conservation when you get back home, inspired and dog-tired. Flick off lights. Turn off the tap while you brush your teeth. Use a programmable thermostat, and program it to drop down while you sleep. Purchase a high quality low-flow showerhead that will make you feel good about saving water without compromising the luxury that we call the hot morning shower.

And make sure that your kids see you do it. Rope them in (chances are, they won't need much prodding - this is their planet we're messing up, after all). And in honor of the International Day of Climate Action, make a promise you can keep: You will reduce energy usage in your house, with their help. And you will share the bounty with your kids.

Yesterday, during Blog Action Day, bloggers around the world wrote about the consequences and causes of climate change. While topics ranged from mindful food choices and recycling to pet waste consciousness approaches ran the gamut from funny videos to musical interludes and poignant comments on the Hidden Cost of Dirty Energy, all of the blogs seemed to spin around to one central thought: The Time Is Now.

So... what are you doing on October 24?

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."

- Margaret Mead

Smart Meter Reality Check: Are Our Aging Parents Right to Worry?

Peggy — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 14:37:52 +0000

My parents' friends aren't much interested in Smart Meters. It isn't because they are luddites. They aren't. They correspond with their grandchildren via email, upload digital images and ask about Facebook apace with sixty year olds. It isn't because they are ignorant. (A little respect, please?) And it isn't because they don't care about the planet. They do. They use CFLs because they don't burn their fingers when they change the bulbs, and it just doesn't make any damn sense to spend a whole lot of electricity heating up a lampshade. Most of them use smart strips because fool computers don't have to buzz and hum their way through the whole night. There's enough buzzing and humming in hospitals at night, and lord knows they don't need more of that at home.

They are, you may recall, the same parents who yipped at you to flick off the lights when you left the room throughout your childhood, and threw on cardigans as they turned the heat down.

Elderly Lose Money, Gain...? My parents' friends are worried about Smart Meters because they aren't sure they are going to be able to play this new electricity game. If they are forced to play, they are afraid they are going to lose. I'm not sure they're wrong. As we've noted in the past, Smart Meters (sad, but true) did not originate with the altruistic hope of enabling consumers to monitor their electricity usage. They came about because utilities wanted to be able to monitor power usage more precisely and impose rates based on time of use.

Time of Use Rates, in absence of information sharing, are Punitive. As it stands, if I use my dishwasher during peak times, I pay more. But I do not benefit from doing dishes at two in the morning, because off-peak rates are no lower than my old pre-smart meter rates. I gain only the knowledge that I may be saving the world from a newly constructed power plant with my wee hour rinse cycle. No small matter, kharmically speaking, but little help to my 80 year old mother, who tends to be asleep at 2am and may not find investing in a dishwasher with a delay setting a great investment on a fixed income.

Result: If she has a Smart Meter, she runs the dishwasher when the dishes are dirty and she still has stamina, and gets nailed at a higher rate. The key short-coming: She won't know why her bill has increased. That means, her behavior won't change. (No break for the planet/big money for utilities). IF her Smart Meter told her in real time where the trouble was... I'd be singing an entirely different song.

Smart Meters could be a force for good. They could (potentially, in some instances) alert utility companies that a home is without power. They could (potentially, in some instances) let consumers know how they are spending their energy, so that consumers can learn where the spikes and peaks are and alter their behavior to save money. They could (could they really?) provide those data in real time, so that consumers, whether elderly or not, could adjust their behavior in a meaningful way to save energy and money, without having to re-trace an entire day to figure it out. But right now, they don't.

Real Promise: Real-Time Data to Consumers. We remain full of hope that Google PowerMeter may turn Smart Meters into the tools for good that they could be. For now, Smart Meters seem only to be servants of the utility. Slapping one on a house is about as generous as throwing a jump rope over my father's wheel chair and admonishing him to get in shape. Or, for that matter, asking the rest of us to go jogging with our eyes closed.

We want to love Smart Meters. We are all about monitoring usage and reducing waste. We eagerly await an indication that Smart Meter will deliver for homeowners, not just utilities.

Movie Review: The Age of Stupid

Peggy — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 02:46:46 +0000

Last night I attended the Canadian premier of The Age of Stupid, courtesy of the Climate Action Network of Canada. The theater wasn't jammed to capacity as had been hoped. It should have been.

The widely anticipated climate change film by Franny Armstrong, director of McLibel, is a call to political action. It is also a totally engaging movie in its own right, combining live action, documentary film techniques, animation, music, and sci fi.

The film covers the lives of six individuals dealing with both the causes and effects of global climate change. Their life stories are richly detailed and span the globe: An aging French mountain guide bearing witness to glacial melt, a wealthy Indian entreprenaur starting a dirt-cheap airline, a geologist working for Shell oil, a young Nigerian hoping to train to become a doctor, two young Iraqi refugees living in Jordan, and a wind-farm developer, his wife and two kids living in rural UK. We see their journeys through clips on the screen of a future survivor played by Pete Postlewaite. He has collected and saved these images in his effort to understand why we failed to save ourselves when we still could. And in the end, he asks, "I wonder. Did we think we weren't worth saving?"

The Age of Stupid is unapologetically a cautionary tale, told from a terribly bleak future (All of our accomplishments and museum treasures are stored in the silo where Postlethwaite sits, in hopes that some day some one will benefit from them. Our animals are pickled and stored in glass boxes). But the movie does not bow to simplicity. The oil worker is not the devil. In fact, he saved hundreds of people after Katrina. The Indian air line developer wants to help poor people see the world. And when we meet the mostly charming windfarm developer, we are hard-pressed not to mock his (subtitled and grammatically challenged) French. In other words, we are none of us perfect.

The movie works for me because it simplifies neither the problem nor the solution. Yes, the situation is dire. But the film uses history (a remarkable fast-action world history animation of war, for one) to remind us that we've been stupid before. Consider slavery. Think of Women's Suffrage. The benefit of time is moral clarity. What dunces we were. What schleps to take so long to act. But act we did. We righted the world. We took action privately and publicly and found our keel. We've done it before. We can do it again. And... we have to.

Start at home. Reduce your carbon footprint. And then, step outside. Join Climate Day on October 24, the Day of Action.

And if you can, see the movie. I don't recommend it for young kids, because some images are brutal (although fleeting) and the language can be coarse. I strongly recommend it for everybody else.