tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20986875751271512792024-03-09T18:48:22.193-08:00Hope Is The Thing With FeathersAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.comBlogger121125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-20855315953100440242023-06-23T08:32:00.002-07:002023-06-23T08:32:39.965-07:00Another version of Grandmother's Favourite Dishcloth: Knitting Pattern<p> Cast on 3 (long tail method)</p><p>K1, kfb, sl1.</p><p>K2, yo, k to second to last st, sl1. Repeat until you have 50 stitches on the needle.</p><p>K1, k2tog, yo, k2tog, k to second to last stitch, sl1. Repeat until you have 7 stitches left.</p><p>K1, k2tog, k2tog, k to second to last st, sl1. Repeat until you have three stitches left.</p><p>Use crochet hook to pull yarn through last 3 st. Weave ends in.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrf7FuNwIfQS7A_AmW0Zn_a-dBy3fgcPnq6-YsJJup3QKq5EVJk3P4Op0DcBh-qBl0qZExpdESaIWI-ucqxDAATr0QrEMvVZsWhv9dnXDPUVBtamygnC8Craf2xJPTwhbXthN3DF9xBdw8pUf5kT8P1aGgxoD_Ll-c9hSLw3UHb0owAC8AV0uhVZb_R9A/s1920/thumbnail_IMG_0051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrf7FuNwIfQS7A_AmW0Zn_a-dBy3fgcPnq6-YsJJup3QKq5EVJk3P4Op0DcBh-qBl0qZExpdESaIWI-ucqxDAATr0QrEMvVZsWhv9dnXDPUVBtamygnC8Craf2xJPTwhbXthN3DF9xBdw8pUf5kT8P1aGgxoD_Ll-c9hSLw3UHb0owAC8AV0uhVZb_R9A/s320/thumbnail_IMG_0051.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-55927682935182352802015-12-03T02:24:00.003-08:002015-12-05T04:19:49.332-08:00Budweiser Christmas lights<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I haven't been well enough to do much more than take occasional pictures of fungi or moss in a while (there's not a lot to photograph in November), and it's been cold and super windy (lots of downed trees, closed roads, and power outages) and pouring down rain and then frozen, but my mom and I went into the city to go shopping in mid November.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://41.media.tumblr.com/5ab699196d36304d1c469bb45fe5d6e3/tumblr_nystw6qEWs1s3itmfo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://41.media.tumblr.com/5ab699196d36304d1c469bb45fe5d6e3/tumblr_nystw6qEWs1s3itmfo1_500.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moss on an old cinderblock, December 3rd. It thawed out, which is good because it was raining pretty hard and we had to go to the store again.</td></tr>
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She needed a Christmas present for her husband (she bought him an insulated coffee mug) and a yearly supply of looseleaf tea and I needed a winter coat, but we had a really hard time finding any coats under three hundred dollars. The most reasonable store we tried was Capital Iron, and their coats were just waterproof shells with a fleece lining (or without, even), not actually heavy-duty cold weather coats. I was wearing a dark grey sweater and toque and burgundy corduroys and told the saleslady I just wanted something plain and basic, but she kept showing me jackets covered in pink flowers that were very expensive. I would say I was looking for something plain in a dark colour, maybe blue or black, and on sale, and she would look around and hold up another expensive flowered jacket. There were plenty of expensive plain jackets, I don't know why the lady was determined to get me into something floral. My mom was getting annoyed, but I thought it was kind of funny. <br />
<br />
Eventually the saleslady left us to look and we found a black jacket that was two hundred dollars. I didn't want to spend that much of my mom's money (I thought a light winter coat would be like $60), but I needed a coat and so that was my birthday present. I also got a pair of fingerless knitted hand warmers (they were $40, how are gloves even that expensive), and a belt ($18). My pants have gotten so loose they won't stay on anymore, which is a problem, especially since I only bought them in February and new clothes aren't possible, but a belt works. The store didn't have any change rooms, so I tried on a whole bunch of belts on the shop floor before I finally found one in the right size with enough holes. People were staring and probably saw my skin and how large my clothes are, but oh well. I couldn't buy something that didn't fit.<br />
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This was the first time I'd been out of the house in a month or so, and the Christmas decorations in the stores were very pretty:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzX0PDWRfWEUMDh9_j3lD8P1xOulNafHq0SgjuThA0TUzKuBdsAL4VgG2pRK3FNeaH9g1BnunU3hI5PlQSSRW9ZTQ6clRONI7_04i5_0tJg9oGfPiuE4pglwggeGflHzhl66RyfbxvIVqR/s1600/traditional+ornaments.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzX0PDWRfWEUMDh9_j3lD8P1xOulNafHq0SgjuThA0TUzKuBdsAL4VgG2pRK3FNeaH9g1BnunU3hI5PlQSSRW9ZTQ6clRONI7_04i5_0tJg9oGfPiuE4pglwggeGflHzhl66RyfbxvIVqR/s400/traditional+ornaments.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some more traditional Christmas decorations.</td></tr>
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I guess someone realised the rural market at Christmas could be profitable:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjq2I9smB83YuVVlwWnCqWnv-XaT_Q_HSCTsrvQV3xdubW2ims4EOIdYvqHLyqJn1NHrvWWzC6tFaBUyxvdOu5Xa6C89TRdcv13HsssALzls8sTZyhj4tQnzP4T-MXj-mwz96pLZm125_I/s1600/bacon+and+skillet.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjq2I9smB83YuVVlwWnCqWnv-XaT_Q_HSCTsrvQV3xdubW2ims4EOIdYvqHLyqJn1NHrvWWzC6tFaBUyxvdOu5Xa6C89TRdcv13HsssALzls8sTZyhj4tQnzP4T-MXj-mwz96pLZm125_I/s400/bacon+and+skillet.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Decorations shaped like bacon (the white strips are sparkly) and frying bacon and eggs in a castiron skillet.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUsRVbeHE178rm8wTIa1w_c5X7RdjPXa_KpWsjfQWki5k185XFEsz-MrWVmjbULqKiyQe357_yxcPV07ydGZqY1VQDY2SpNqevN1Ic9GmsZNgxPtjjU-_ilMdP0lN75OeFkVct4lAJv0YN/s1600/budweiser+christmas+lights.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUsRVbeHE178rm8wTIa1w_c5X7RdjPXa_KpWsjfQWki5k185XFEsz-MrWVmjbULqKiyQe357_yxcPV07ydGZqY1VQDY2SpNqevN1Ic9GmsZNgxPtjjU-_ilMdP0lN75OeFkVct4lAJv0YN/s400/budweiser+christmas+lights.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Budweiser Christmas lights. They're $26.99 for either four or eight lights, I forget.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmOKOxJzLg0NNDJxvWYLeLaLdWPxvmC8SHz3iIu2vD9UkSpgSoiEsTl6NE_xjwjntUnvPtflW5HfxPWuKhEuw6ItI-WaLHukWlAAWiTUOxHOybuiHZvI-MbGBdSjpYHjdQCkpbG2YQZHF/s1600/deer+and+plaid.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmOKOxJzLg0NNDJxvWYLeLaLdWPxvmC8SHz3iIu2vD9UkSpgSoiEsTl6NE_xjwjntUnvPtflW5HfxPWuKhEuw6ItI-WaLHukWlAAWiTUOxHOybuiHZvI-MbGBdSjpYHjdQCkpbG2YQZHF/s400/deer+and+plaid.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taxidermied deer heads and plaid Christmas balls.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZD2J8BrDGqYL2o04adbi7KPyArkYHPlDtxus0sZ0q6khabj8zGWTbKiK_Z6crVVAkzKNaAxGavdHAmLbyUfm30B7yC7dne_PZj1mwb2oWTgn623hF8sbUKNX5ZNuoRyl9ATYhHeeqnZEY/s1600/stanfields+and+tree.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZD2J8BrDGqYL2o04adbi7KPyArkYHPlDtxus0sZ0q6khabj8zGWTbKiK_Z6crVVAkzKNaAxGavdHAmLbyUfm30B7yC7dne_PZj1mwb2oWTgn623hF8sbUKNX5ZNuoRyl9ATYhHeeqnZEY/s400/stanfields+and+tree.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An artificial Christmas tree made out of lumber scraps, and Stanfields ($60 each).</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xyr0052JUyK4VfiQ3JbbiUqmIq0ElSIgXV8IZsEO6S4T1tN21n42tcpZHK00qj0dUZzTY-QM_guBpDL6EwQhXUrkYNw-T1ZGkSFXVl1uavtlDWJ-5jEUL-Gtw24PLnwLdQYbCc4LP9_8/s1600/truck+decoration.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xyr0052JUyK4VfiQ3JbbiUqmIq0ElSIgXV8IZsEO6S4T1tN21n42tcpZHK00qj0dUZzTY-QM_guBpDL6EwQhXUrkYNw-T1ZGkSFXVl1uavtlDWJ-5jEUL-Gtw24PLnwLdQYbCc4LP9_8/s400/truck+decoration.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pickup truck ornaments hauling Christmas trees.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tjGQS3Fxb_Acbz99Mq7h08sWTq91aUHlModTUkbqGj2U4Fm-Hlcicq5skQfBSmgF4wSNn82p4Rk6XOkusRszRTz4BNk8xFDKT2B1jTTsv-eKn_rgeM4k9veaMdcVjFpVRqmK1r6VGKyS/s1600/vw+van.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tjGQS3Fxb_Acbz99Mq7h08sWTq91aUHlModTUkbqGj2U4Fm-Hlcicq5skQfBSmgF4wSNn82p4Rk6XOkusRszRTz4BNk8xFDKT2B1jTTsv-eKn_rgeM4k9veaMdcVjFpVRqmK1r6VGKyS/s400/vw+van.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">VW van ornament with happy camper, especially for the West Coast I bet.</td></tr>
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We don't have any decorations, but my mom says hers are all Nascar-themed, and my sister and her family have a tree:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTVkgxGIg6oYJTzV9AVFQhtTHJ_j66wSpW8eaKhTnU_27JDefpROw1FwQsgRNT-GjgOR7jDibrJITrK61UNKx6xcz2m_wqfFL8r6Px5a-B0w6pz6hIRnLkh2OFaxTngi1j9c_EJQktR2k/s1600/brutus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTVkgxGIg6oYJTzV9AVFQhtTHJ_j66wSpW8eaKhTnU_27JDefpROw1FwQsgRNT-GjgOR7jDibrJITrK61UNKx6xcz2m_wqfFL8r6Px5a-B0w6pz6hIRnLkh2OFaxTngi1j9c_EJQktR2k/s400/brutus.jpg" width="292" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brutus the Christmas elf. My sister's four year old names everything Brutus these days.</td></tr>
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(I opened Facebook a few days later, and my brother in law in Texas had a picture of an elf that looked just like Brutus doing lines through a dollar bill with a mini bottle of Bacardi in the background. My sister was a mixture of amused and horrified, I think). <br />
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The Christmas lights on the Parliament Buildings in Victoria turned on at the end of November. I've never actually seen them in person:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://mynooks.ca/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/6904525-lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://mynooks.ca/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/6904525-lg.jpg" height="232" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://mynooks.ca/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/6904525-lg.jpg">Photo from 2013</a></td></tr>
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I like twinkly lights, but I haven't seen very many. A few houses (like, two) on the way into town have one string of lights, and there's a doublewide trailer up the road that has a painted plywood cutout of Santa, but most of them show no sign that it's Christmas. I used to see a lot more as a child in other towns, I don't know if people have decided Christmas decorations are low-class or too much trouble and expense, or...?<br />
<br />
I'm mostly managing to avoid the whole season by not going anywhere. I got an invitation from a family member for a brunch to "celebrate Christmas together as a family," and it was very kind of them to ask me but I just thought "oh God no." No thank you. It was nice to just totally skip the whole month (two months?) and all the
expectations that go along with it for all the years I lived in Muslim-majority
countries. <br />
<br />
My mom was calling Christmas the "winter holiday" and our trip "winter
shopping" out of respect, she said. I tried to convince her that it was
fine to have Christmas (she doesn't even know of any other winter
holidays. Islam doesn't have one, except for the new year I guess,
which moves every year and isn't a religious holiday), but she refused to say the word
Christmas. I eventually figured out that she was refusing to even
acknowledge Christian-y culture because of the surge in
xenophobia following the Daesh attacks in Paris - the only recent massacre most people here have heard of, but I read about a new one by somebody somewhere pretty
much every day. It's hard not to just lose hope in everything.<br />
<br />
<br />
It's not good here. The armed nationalism and calls for more death started as soon as the news broke. I uninstalled Facebook because I was tired of getting notifications every time someone posted or commented (the few people on my FB were pretty well behaved, but their friends weren't, and I really don't want to hear very many people's comments on it), and I've been mostly staying off the internet, not bothering to read past the headlines, and not talking to or seeing anyone in person. This is a small rural town, I already know what people here think of Muslims. Including some of my own family and neighbours, and I have to live here.<br />
<br />
My mom obviously wasn't passing on most of the things people were saying to her, but she's putting up her own small resistance to all the gun-toting hostility. She says those people don't represent her country. I hope they don't. I don't think she would have done that a few years ago. She forbid me to become Muslim or to travel or marry (not that I wanted to) and I hardly heard from her for seven years; I didn't think she'd ever accept this, or that we'd ever reconcile. I don't know whether it was time that brought her around, or enough of me patiently explaining and posting photos of ordinary things and people on Facebook, or just wanting her child back.<br />
<br />
Our doors don't lock and strangers keep walking into our house like they own the place and being rude (one of them made fun of my mom's clothing. She was wearing a red sparkly house dress a friend in Oman gave me. She loves red and shinies, but it's too fancy and foreign for this town), but I couldn't get my mom to let me install locks before. On the drive home from town my mom was talking about what a nice young man our upstairs renter was and how she hoped he would turn out better than his father, and I told her that he loudly and aggressively uses the n-word, and talks about women like they're fucktoys (I can hear him from downstairs, it's really gross and threatening to live with), and I was afraid. I was terrified for days after the Paris attack, because people know I'm Muslim, and what if someone had told him? <br />
<br />
My mom was totally resistant to the idea of doing anything about it before (she thought she was the one being rude when she told intruders she owned the place), so I didn't expect her to consider it this time either, but she said that she would have my brother put in locks and tell the tenant to behave himself, and evict him if he didn't. Even though we need the money to heat the bedrooms in the winter and fix the leaks and hopefully do something about the rats.<br />
<br />
It's been a few weeks and nothing has happened with the locks, but at least she was willing to address the problem. She came by a few days ago and said that she would bring me and my brother out to her house in the next village for lunch on Christmas day, and that there wouldn't be any alcohol or bacon (I really don't care if there's bacon present, I'm just not going to eat it. My mom used to put bacon in everything; anything with potatoes or pasta or cheese or beans or even greens would have bacon. The brussel sprouts always have bacon on them. It's kind of funny how much Canadians love bacon).<br />
<br />
So hopefully everyone will be sober and behave themselves and that will be as much Christmas and group activities as I have to deal with. Which is a relief. I was starting to get better but I've come down with something else, so I may not end up being able to go.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://40.media.tumblr.com/aa32c57979a5d561abb1fa7b03d2e408/tumblr_nysqxpA3Jy1s3itmfo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://40.media.tumblr.com/aa32c57979a5d561abb1fa7b03d2e408/tumblr_nysqxpA3Jy1s3itmfo1_500.jpg" height="400" width="336" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas decorations are still novel enough that I want to photograph all of them. Older guys in stores get grumpy about it. Too bad, I like them.</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-48528568158721769172015-12-01T19:59:00.000-08:002015-12-01T19:59:00.430-08:00Frost on windowpanes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I've been in bed with a virus for a several days, but I got up the morning of November 30th and made a bowl of oatmeal and found frost on the windows: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50m-2XjxNye7eX4MCnqWsh-ECqqWVLSny6_jqBWxAUD8S8-7V1v2oAvwEZI2DBptiHmnpWdJd0n-P8UWkPsP0E7cJsty4Ge5Bt7yhlQOyC4lY_22JdSqp4FzwLZ6-ypRmun3oplbon3in/s1600/tumblr_nymyoiakqr1s3itmfo1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50m-2XjxNye7eX4MCnqWsh-ECqqWVLSny6_jqBWxAUD8S8-7V1v2oAvwEZI2DBptiHmnpWdJd0n-P8UWkPsP0E7cJsty4Ge5Bt7yhlQOyC4lY_22JdSqp4FzwLZ6-ypRmun3oplbon3in/s400/tumblr_nymyoiakqr1s3itmfo1_400.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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It was 8am and around minus four Celcius (too cold to go outside, and hard to read the thermometer from eight feet away through frosted windows), and the sun was just coming up. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ggPKzdjRG_cvl5mcEDTMb9ChHFEnY54F3Y2rvmGp3F4oaY9BoSaUCLRaHudXv9QTqu2OX5gzqJHWP6BUPYP6CE7Q6icTP1SjHYSOPgqJenkH6NIkbOkrji6lvkptvMsu2GtlGdFpqAwp/s1600/tumblr_nymyoiakqr1s3itmfo2_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ggPKzdjRG_cvl5mcEDTMb9ChHFEnY54F3Y2rvmGp3F4oaY9BoSaUCLRaHudXv9QTqu2OX5gzqJHWP6BUPYP6CE7Q6icTP1SjHYSOPgqJenkH6NIkbOkrji6lvkptvMsu2GtlGdFpqAwp/s400/tumblr_nymyoiakqr1s3itmfo2_400.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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The
frost must've been there before, but I didn't notice it. Everything's been frozen solid for a week or more, and never
thaws. It's weird. The ice crystals on leaves and blades of grass get bigger every day. </div>
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I was going to say more, but I can't remember what it was and keep needing to lay down again. I'm not all the way better yet.
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-35184598716488855182015-11-24T21:19:00.000-08:002015-11-25T18:15:37.085-08:00Rosehip November<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I woke up at 10.30 am a few days ago (November 20th) and looked outside while I was putting the kettle on. Everything the sun hadn't yet touched (most things at that time of day) was white with frost.
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The grass was stiff and crunchy underfoot. My toes immediately began to freeze inside my boots. Jesse crouched under the porch going "uuurrrrhh" ("what the hell is this") while I took photos of geranium and buttercup leaves covered in ice crystals. Eventually I got far enough away that he followed me out onto the grass, but he wasn't happy about it.</div>
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<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/6479/6479_900.jpg" height="640" title="" width="479" />
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I've held onto these photos for a while, and I don't know what to say about them. I'm just barely hanging on these days. I don't know what to say about anything. There are no words, for some things.
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I haven't seen frost in nearly a decade, and I don't have any memory from before of what it was like, or what anything else here was like. It's entirely new to me now. This is not where I wanted to end up, or what I wanted to be doing, but the frost is pretty cool. And I like the rosehips.
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<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/7657/7657_900.jpg" height="640" title="" width="512" />
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The sun on the fields in the afternoon.
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<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/8228/8228_900.jpg" height="300" title="" width="400" />
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Jesse sleeping on my lap while I read and following me around outdoors.
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<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/7799/7799_900.jpg" height="640" title="" width="480" />
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A decaying old snag at the edge of the field that finally succumbed to the wind last week, and fell into a thicket of roses laden with fruit.
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<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/8171/8171_900.jpg" height="300" title="" width="400" />
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A friend showed me this song today:<br />
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<i>Rose hip November </i><br />
<i>Autumn I'll remember </i><br />
<i>Gold landing at our door </i><br />
<i>Catch one leaf and fortune will surround you evermore </i><br />
<i>Evermore, evermore</i>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETQTDMP17Ks">Vashti Bunyan (Youtube)</a>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-21408226516613724372015-11-21T21:43:00.001-08:002015-11-21T21:43:42.561-08:00Reconstructing an early medieval turf house in the Netherlands<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This is a time lapse video showing the reconstruction of an 8th century turf farmhouse at the <a href="http://yebhettingamuseum.nl/?page_id=11">Yeb Hettinga Museum</a> in the village of Firdgum, Friesland, northern Netherlands:
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/tbBRH0CN-04" width="480"></iframe><br />
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The finished house in November 2015:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjswI6BXIwtxxYvxaeZ2Jl4ScfaUhHf-pNj690PYQgChew9usjzLEKx8wviAbl8LbMnnLru5xi21-ETlQcN166JeuSJRSYiKpJRSfEwqb2OyTr8V39ZvqGGk75aXeeEUNCMPCJ_D9W90QLN/s1600/early-medieval-turf-house-570x407.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjswI6BXIwtxxYvxaeZ2Jl4ScfaUhHf-pNj690PYQgChew9usjzLEKx8wviAbl8LbMnnLru5xi21-ETlQcN166JeuSJRSYiKpJRSfEwqb2OyTr8V39ZvqGGk75aXeeEUNCMPCJ_D9W90QLN/s400/early-medieval-turf-house-570x407.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(<a href="http://www.medievalists.net/2015/11/19/video-shows-the-reconstruction-of-an-early-medieval-turf-house/" target="_blank">University of Groningen/medievalists.net</a>)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"> Firdgum had a population of 100 in 2004, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Firdgum">according to Wikipedia</a>, and is located in the fertile salt marshes along the coast of northern Friesland. </span><span lang="EN-GB"> </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f0/Friesland_in_the_Netherlands.svg/800px-Friesland_in_the_Netherlands.svg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f0/Friesland_in_the_Netherlands.svg/800px-Friesland_in_the_Netherlands.svg.png" width="283" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Location of Friesland in the Netherlands (in red). (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friesland#/media/File:Friesland_in_the_Netherlands.svg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium/landscape-in-friesland-with-sheep-holland-scenery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium/landscape-in-friesland-with-sheep-holland-scenery.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Landscape in Friesland with sheep (<a href="http://fineartamerica.com/featured/landscape-in-friesland-with-sheep-holland-scenery.html" target="_blank">source</a>).</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://friesland.nl/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/Lauwersmeer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://friesland.nl/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/Lauwersmeer.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Horses in a salt marsh in Lauwersmeer, Friesland (<a href="http://friesland.nl/en/hiking/national-parks/" target="_blank">source</a>).</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-GB">In
the days before dykes, regular flooding prevented
trees from growing in the north of the Netherlands, so very
little wood was available to build houses. Starting around 400 AD,
houses there were built on artificial platforms to keep them out of the
flood water, and constructed of stacked clay turf blocks (turves). The walls of this house are a metre thick, which both insulates the house from the cold of the North Sea coast and supports the weight of the roof. </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB">Most of the 8th century house collapsed due to a roof leak in 2013 and was
reconstructed starting in 2014 by volunteers, in coordination with the
University of Groningen. </span></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.omropfryslan.nl/data/files/imagenodes/seaddeh%C3%BBs-ynsakkeFotoJacobTalsma1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.omropfryslan.nl/data/files/imagenodes/seaddeh%C3%BBs-ynsakkeFotoJacobTalsma1.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The collapsed house, from a article dated November 2013 (<a href="http://www.omropfryslan.nl/nijs/zodenhuis-firdgum-ingestort" target="_blank">Photo by Jakob Talsma</a>)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.regionoordwestfryslan.nl/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/IMG_3693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.regionoordwestfryslan.nl/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/IMG_3693.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can see the exposed rafters of the turf house here. I'm guessing that's the museum building behind it, but I haven't been able to translate 'Yeb Hettinga Skoalle.' That might be in Frisian, not Dutch. (<a href="http://www.regionoordwestfryslan.nl/zodenhuis-firdgum-ingestort/" target="_blank">Photo by Daniel Postma</a>)</td></tr>
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</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">The pre-collapse roof, replaced in the summer of 2013, was made of layers of sod and manure over wooden rafters, but the roof of the 2015 reconstruction is made of thatch over wooden rafters. I don't know why that might be. </span><br />
<br />
The 2014-2015 reconstruction
project was part of Daniël Postma’s PhD research into building
traditions in the northern coastal regions of the Netherlands. Postma
published a book, <a href="http://www.barkhuis.nl/product_info.php?products_id=203" target="_blank"><i>Het zodenhuis van Firdgum – Middeleeuwse boerderijbouw in het Friese kustgebied tussen 400 en 1300</i></a>
(”The Firdgum sod house: Medieval farmhouse building in the Frisian
coastal area between 400 and 1300″) which details the design and
construction process of the turf house. (<a href="https://translate.google.com/translate?sl=auto&tl=en&js=y&prev=_t&hl=en&ie=UTF-8&u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.barkhuis.nl%2Fproduct_info.php%3Fproducts_id%3D203&edit-text=&act=url" target="_blank">Description of the book translated by Google).</a><br />
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The <a href="http://www.medievalists.net/2015/11/19/video-shows-the-reconstruction-of-an-early-medieval-turf-house/" target="_blank">medievalists.net article</a> on the reconstruction describes the house: <br />
<blockquote>
The
[farm house], which is nearly 17 metres long, is characterized by a 1
metre-thick carrier wall made of layered turf, as was customary
throughout the region from the fifth to the early eighth century. It is
also the first archaeological reconstruction with an arch-shaped roof
construction, which clearly distinguishes it from the rectangular
trusses of existing historic farmhouses.</blockquote>
<span lang="EN-GB"></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">I couldn't find more than a couple progress photos of the reconstruction, just the video up top and a few casual photos on the <a href="https://twitter.com/zodenhuis/media" target="_blank">Zodenhuis Project Twitter</a> (mostly in Dutch), but I did find some good quality photos of a roof replacement done on the house in the summer of 2013 on the <a href="http://zodenhuis.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Zodenhuis Project Tumblr</a> (in Dutch):</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://38.media.tumblr.com/67aff96a5f537f3e729312d4d4093d10/tumblr_inline_mn6tjhpDXR1qz4rgp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://38.media.tumblr.com/67aff96a5f537f3e729312d4d4093d10/tumblr_inline_mn6tjhpDXR1qz4rgp.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stripped inside of the house (<a href="http://zodenhuis.tumblr.com/post/51055509260/stand-van-zaken-op-21-mei-2013" target="_blank">May 2013</a>)</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> </span><span lang="EN-GB"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://33.media.tumblr.com/5798af472813608fd543456070c90cf2/tumblr_inline_mn6ti2bpxZ1qz4rgp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://33.media.tumblr.com/5798af472813608fd543456070c90cf2/tumblr_inline_mn6ti2bpxZ1qz4rgp.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rafters almost ready to be covered with sod (<a href="http://zodenhuis.tumblr.com/post/51055509260/stand-van-zaken-op-21-mei-2013" target="_blank">May 2013</a>)</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://38.media.tumblr.com/7774282b4e33c7c53d518179142ec733/tumblr_inline_mnj3v64O7f1qz4rgp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://38.media.tumblr.com/7774282b4e33c7c53d518179142ec733/tumblr_inline_mnj3v64O7f1qz4rgp.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Applying cow manure mixed with straw over top of the turves to provide a waterproof layer (<a href="http://zodenhuis.tumblr.com/post/51590264707/dinsdag-28-mei-2013" target="_blank">May 2013</a>)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://33.media.tumblr.com/085e200d1457e43a654c5dd2756b72f4/tumblr_inline_mnokvaN0WE1qz4rgp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://33.media.tumblr.com/085e200d1457e43a654c5dd2756b72f4/tumblr_inline_mnokvaN0WE1qz4rgp.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Manure being applied to the first layer of sod (<a href="http://zodenhuis.tumblr.com/post/51828416218/woensdag-29-mei-2013-mestdag" target="_blank">May 2013</a>)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://38.media.tumblr.com/74c0d1881f58e2754e72706f36ee4eb8/tumblr_inline_mnyhaqSPg31qz4rgp.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://38.media.tumblr.com/74c0d1881f58e2754e72706f36ee4eb8/tumblr_inline_mnyhaqSPg31qz4rgp.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"<span class="notranslate">On the west side the roof of the sod house is now equipped with the first layer of turf.</span> <span class="notranslate"> This side now awaits a layer of manure and two layers of sod." (<a href="http://zodenhuis.tumblr.com/post/52281969328/dinsdag-04-juni-2013" target="_blank">June 2013</a>)</span></td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-GB"></span> <br />
The house after it re-opened to the public later in 2013:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJmwACemMDzwT3GSzcWQ8xG1JaWTxrKTGe8hVylXaHow2UD3FZbU2dxeJEYCrOPpGsMs0cQGOuJln6-oDI5XB8XRsx6vZbWuhNFg3Q109eV6apnuFps7fAO9HGxvlyNInyYY1Qjpk7uY28/s1600/IMG_0890.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJmwACemMDzwT3GSzcWQ8xG1JaWTxrKTGe8hVylXaHow2UD3FZbU2dxeJEYCrOPpGsMs0cQGOuJln6-oDI5XB8XRsx6vZbWuhNFg3Q109eV6apnuFps7fAO9HGxvlyNInyYY1Qjpk7uY28/s400/IMG_0890.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The finished house. I think those dots are cow patties stuck to the walls to dry.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0b_tF-FDYgSSdEPjulNUwgxBk67ZbpjS68XO8Z6kKfFuIcPK8JkVaUgHvfEu7pUTJ52apPBmRHHDfHsTmJDAQOcLpjaAkimuW-KwQdIwo_KIDyh2p5KRzw2HI3SCOviNwkUSmJqXKznn/s1600/IMG_0919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0b_tF-FDYgSSdEPjulNUwgxBk67ZbpjS68XO8Z6kKfFuIcPK8JkVaUgHvfEu7pUTJ52apPBmRHHDfHsTmJDAQOcLpjaAkimuW-KwQdIwo_KIDyh2p5KRzw2HI3SCOviNwkUSmJqXKznn/s400/IMG_0919.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That little girl is even wearing wooden clogs. I'm guessing that's early medieval dress (<a href="http://yebhettingamuseum.nl/?page_id=11" target="_blank">Yeb Hettinga Museum</a>).</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://41.media.tumblr.com/271d26a56979dc5f8a134e3005fbb357/tumblr_mu37lsjqTP1rckh5mo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://41.media.tumblr.com/271d26a56979dc5f8a134e3005fbb357/tumblr_mu37lsjqTP1rckh5mo1_500.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the house (<a href="http://zodenhuis.tumblr.com/post/62984071142/in-de-zomer-van-2013-is-in-de-friese-plaats" target="_blank">Zodenhuis Project, fall 2013</a>)</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMI2-IDUAryDZth3hL00nhMKwbYIsEWdG1LBENWJBaYFiidw45QRLkTdF4Ha07INUf0125BzQcNA3kud2vuNZGHAooYL0LFUzWLYJUsW4VsVdhFYXBj5IVKFltbyqcdhD4vH1_es_hKDW8/s1600/IMG_0912.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMI2-IDUAryDZth3hL00nhMKwbYIsEWdG1LBENWJBaYFiidw45QRLkTdF4Ha07INUf0125BzQcNA3kud2vuNZGHAooYL0LFUzWLYJUsW4VsVdhFYXBj5IVKFltbyqcdhD4vH1_es_hKDW8/s400/IMG_0912.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A pot of something cooking over an open fire inside (<a href="http://yebhettingamuseum.nl/?page_id=11" target="_blank">Yeb Hettinga Museum</a>).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Houses in prehistoric and early medieval Europe didn't have chimneys, so the smoke from the fire either drifted out through the door, if it was open, or just filtered out through the roof, like this thatched example in Ireland:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibrw9gji3bQF5aHfZZtZDZxhKszLHyjPOLSCuGYCjMorVMSHIwwpTp-IfZlGwR7y1MG4OTHBC092tBbMJs4mumqbaruS7dyMUMEyX9uY9B4mKusJ_lr6qFNsxjdCHyf_PplMiIa4ny_fnz/s1600/smoke+thatched+house+ireland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibrw9gji3bQF5aHfZZtZDZxhKszLHyjPOLSCuGYCjMorVMSHIwwpTp-IfZlGwR7y1MG4OTHBC092tBbMJs4mumqbaruS7dyMUMEyX9uY9B4mKusJ_lr6qFNsxjdCHyf_PplMiIa4ny_fnz/s400/smoke+thatched+house+ireland.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From <a href="https://twitter.com/AidanOSulliva15/status/660140672964542466" target="_blank">Aidan O'Sullivan on Twitter.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span lang="EN-GB">There's a bit more on early medieval Frisian turf houses and this house's construction at <a href="http://danielpostma.tumblr.com/">Daniel Postma's Tumblr</a>, the </span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/zodenhuis/?fref=nf" target="_blank">Zodenhuis Firdham Facebook page</a> (in Dutch) and <a href="https://twitter.com/zodenhuis/media" target="_blank">Twitter </a>(mostly in Dutch), the <a href="http://zodenhuis.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Zodenhuis Project Tumblr</a> (inactive, in Dutch), but I've summarised most of it here. I found a couple academic articles in the links section of the project Tumblr, but I can't read Dutch and that's more than Google Translate can handle.</span>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-77235555358826227372015-10-22T21:28:00.001-07:002015-10-22T23:58:00.020-07:00Weeds; or, The Secret Garden<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My grandma died about ten years ago, and there's very little left in her garden besides grass and plants that are considered weeds. I was startled when I came back to Canada, because I had been looking forward to seeing it again, and it was nothing like I remembered. Only the empty beds were left. One more piece of her had disappeared while I wasn't looking.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytzM8il2c5p4Fzx5sYwvO-S4V07UwQiNYDqtOw_KnAQXktuRgaKbFnzwws2OeeYMAs8MOcva66tfti3Y8IuXJSlvunYQgW7ollHWIvC2jcQH47zvgfchLLyZwdSmFQgV3CnSxNF9C5cw2/s1600/geranium+4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytzM8il2c5p4Fzx5sYwvO-S4V07UwQiNYDqtOw_KnAQXktuRgaKbFnzwws2OeeYMAs8MOcva66tfti3Y8IuXJSlvunYQgW7ollHWIvC2jcQH47zvgfchLLyZwdSmFQgV3CnSxNF9C5cw2/s640/geranium+4.jpg" width="476" /></a> <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Mth-AfveLAQ2BH5MzAqqed34mGY4qliYOihPTGiB9Va9QTRKsYnH8jaa2XexqRKm2fhbf0H3xaWxYFuZ299k5bk3WYp9rZ5lfJte6kd12OrDuIm59_SEh14FMQohjv6mybFROA4bTNIo/s1600/geraniium+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Mth-AfveLAQ2BH5MzAqqed34mGY4qliYOihPTGiB9Va9QTRKsYnH8jaa2XexqRKm2fhbf0H3xaWxYFuZ299k5bk3WYp9rZ5lfJte6kd12OrDuIm59_SEh14FMQohjv6mybFROA4bTNIo/s640/geraniium+5.jpg" width="476" /></a></div>
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<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/4432/4432_900.jpg" height="640" title="" width="480" /></div>
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<br />
This is <i>Geranium molle</i>, native to the Mediterranean and now a lush carpet covering filling what used to be the lawn around our raised vegetable beds. The grass is pretty much gone. I didn't really notice it before the leaves started to turn red, but I think it's rather pretty. There's some buttercups in there too, and also a <i>Galium</i> species (cleavers or bedstraw), I can't tell which. It doesn't quite look like <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galium_aparine"><i>G. aparine</i></a> but I looked through a lot of botanical literature and I can't find any closer species. It may or may not be native to North America, but it is edible in small quantities (large quantities have a mild laxative effect).<br />
<br />
My grandma had a bed of a cultivated <i>Galium</i> species, sweet woodruff, next to the front walk, but it's almost entirely gone now. What little is left probably won't last much longer.<br />
<br />
What plants are weeds and what are proper plants seems to be a matter of
opinion, and of desire for the plant, and of frustration with it.
Especially if it's introduced. Most of the plants left in my grandma's
garden are foreign, and considered noxious or invasive weeds,
undesirable - but then, the prettier plants that she cultivated and
loved were introduced too. They just weren't resilient enough or
suitable enough for this climate to survive after she was gone. <br />
<br />
Rather a lot of the plants left in the garden turn out to be edible. There's also tall amaranth, and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rumex_obtusifolius">broadleaf dock</a>, whose leaves are developing reddish spots like rust:<br />
<br />
<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/4997/4997_900.jpg" height="300" title="" width="400" />
<br />
<br />
Dock leaves can be cooked and eaten in small quantities (large quantities can be hazardous, since they contain oxalic acid), and the leaves were described being used to wrap blocks of fresh butter in <i>Adam Bede</i>. The seeds can be ground and eaten, but they contain a lot of chaff and there's no way to remove it.<br />
<br />
There's <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonchus">sow thistle</a>, related to dandelion, old and bitter at this time of year but edible when the leaves are young:<br />
<br />
<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/5365/5365_900.jpg" height="640" title="" width="480" />
<br />
<br />
There's Himalayan blackberry everywhere, of course:<br />
<br />
<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/5630/5630_900.jpg" height="640" title="" width="480" />
<br />
<br />
It produces a fair bit of fruit on second-year canes, and I'm told the leaves can be made into tea, although I haven't tried it yet.<br />
<br />
Morning glory is everywhere:<br />
<br />
<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/5675/5675_900.jpg" height="640" title="" width="480" /><br />
It's not edible, and it strangles everything, but at least the flowers are pretty.
The burdock had pretty purple flowers earlier, but they've been replaced by brown burrs:<br />
<br />
<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/6262/6262_900.jpg" height="640" title="" width="480" /><br />
Probably the most striking thing in the garden at this time of year is the rose bush. Its hips are edible too, and can be made into tea:<br />
<br />
<img alt="" src="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/purplefigtree/61807074/6049/6049_900.jpg" height="640" title="" width="480" /><br />
It's so huge and vigorous and exceptionally thorny that I suspect a more tender rose was grafted to it and didn't survive, especially since it's right next to the fence where my grandma had roses planted. I didn't notice what sort of flowers it had this spring or summer.<br />
<br />
If Mary Lennox's secret garden were real, this is what it would look like after a decade left mostly to itself. The wildest of the roses would have survived and run rampant, and the crocuses and daffodils naturalised, but most of the cultivated plants would have disappeared and the small weedy ones that slipped in unwanted volunteered to take their places, and flourished, a carpet of green in the spring, dotted with white and yellow flowers in the summer, seed heads turning brown in the fall and leaves shading to yellow, touched with red, dotted with rust, fading to brown and falling crumpled to the ground. The plants lie dormant all winter, but finally the roots and stems spring to life again in March, as they do every year without fail.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
For two or three minutes [Dickon] stood looking round him, while Mary watched
him, and then he began to walk about softly, even more lightly than
Mary had walked the first time she had found herself inside the four
walls. His eyes seemed to be taking in everything—the gray trees with
the gray creepers climbing over them and hanging from their branches,
the tangle on the walls and among the grass, the evergreen alcoves with
the stone seats and tall flower urns standing in them.<br />
<br />
"I never thought I'd see this place," he said at last, in a whisper.<br />
<br />
"Did you know about it?" asked Mary.<br />
<br />
She had spoken aloud and he made a sign to her.<br />
<br />
"We must talk low," he said, "or some one'll hear us an' wonder what's
to do in here."<br />
<br />
"Oh! I forgot!" said Mary, feeling frightened and putting her hand
quickly against her mouth. "Did you know about the garden?" she asked
again when she had recovered herself. Dickon nodded.<br />
<br />
"Martha told me there was one as no one ever went inside," he answered.
"Us used to wonder what it was like."<br />
<br />
He stopped and looked round at the lovely gray tangle about him, and
his round eyes looked queerly happy.<br />
<br />
"Eh! the nests as'll be here come springtime," he said. "It'd be th'
safest nestin' place in England. No one never comin' near an' tangles
o' trees an' roses to build in. I wonder all th' birds on th' moor
don't build here."<br />
<br />
Mistress Mary put her hand on his arm again without knowing it.<br />
<br />
"Will there be roses?" she whispered. "Can you tell? I thought perhaps
they were all dead."<br />
<br />
"Eh! No! Not them—not all of 'em!" he answered. "Look here!"<br />
<br />
He stepped over to the nearest tree—an old, old one with gray lichen
all over its bark, but upholding a curtain of tangled sprays and
branches. He took a thick knife out of his Pocket and opened one of
its blades.<br />
<br />
"There's lots o' dead wood as ought to be cut out," he said. "An'
there's a lot o' old wood, but it made some new last year. This here's
a new bit," and he touched a shoot which looked brownish green instead
of hard, dry gray. Mary touched it herself in an eager, reverent way.<br />
<br />
"That one?" she said. "Is that one quite alive quite?"<br />
<br />
Dickon curved his wide smiling mouth.<br />
<br />
"It's as wick as you or me," he said; and Mary remembered that Martha
had told her that "wick" meant "alive" or "lively."<br />
<br />
"I'm glad it's wick!" she cried out in her whisper. "I want them all
to be wick. Let us go round the garden and count how many wick ones
there are."<br />
<br />
She quite panted with eagerness, and Dickon was as eager as she was.
They went from tree to tree and from bush to bush. Dickon carried his
knife in his hand and showed her things which she thought wonderful.<br />
<br />
"They've run wild," he said, "but th' strongest ones has fair thrived
on it. The delicatest ones has died out, but th' others has growed an'
growed, an' spread an' spread, till they's a wonder. See here!" and he
pulled down a thick gray, dry-looking branch. "A body might think this
was dead wood, but I don't believe it is—down to th' root. I'll cut
it low down an' see."<br />
<br />
He knelt and with his knife cut the lifeless-looking branch through,
not far above the earth.<br />
<br />
"There!" he said exultantly. "I told thee so. There's green in that
wood yet. Look at it."<br />
<br />
Mary was down on her knees before he spoke, gazing with all her might.<br />
<br />
"When it looks a bit greenish an' juicy like that, it's wick," he
explained. "When th' inside is dry an' breaks easy, like this here
piece I've cut off, it's done for. There's a big root here as all this
live wood sprung out of, an' if th' old wood's cut off an' it's dug
round, and took care of there'll be—" he stopped and lifted his face
to look up at the climbing and hanging sprays above him—"there'll be a
fountain o' roses here this summer."
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
- Frances Hodgson Burnett, <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/113/113-h/113-h.htm"><i>The Secret Garden</i></a>, Chapter XI, 'The Nest of the Missel Thrush,' pg 128-9.</blockquote>
The illustrated 1911 edition of <i>The Secret Garden</i> is available on the <a href="https://archive.org/details/secretgarden00burn">Internet Archive</a>.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-74215018584435808112015-10-17T20:24:00.002-07:002015-11-27T13:56:13.943-08:00Why lizards are your friend and Italian peasants love garlic, according to Erasmus<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I came across an interesting bit of folklore today. The Dutch Renaissance writer <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desiderius_Erasmus">Erasmus of Rotterdam</a> (1466-1536) reported in his <i>Colloquies</i> that snakes in Italy love milk, hate garlic, and will crawl down your throat while
you’re sleeping and take up residence in your stomach, but lizards are
friendly to humans and will warn you about them. It's an origin myth explaining why peasants love garlic and snakes and lizards are enemies, but I don't know if its origins are in actual folk belief, or if it's a different sort of popular story. Or some combination of the two. I can't find any other source for those snippets of story, but Erasmus did study in Italy so it's possible that belief existed there at one time. <br />
<br />
From<b><i> The Whole Familiar Colloquies of Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam</i></b>, translated by Nathan Bailey, 1877, <a href="https://books.google.ca/books?id=-eUdAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA388&lpg=PA388&dq=erasmus+colloquies+lizards&source=bl&ots=4wTuN_Bn7N&sig=hJS7Qaz5j4z6bGOMLfKyqCmBeNc&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0CCcQ6AEwAmoVChMI6Jagpu7KyAIVS36ICh37cwOI#v=onepage&q=lizard&f=false" target="_blank">pg. 388-9, Concerning Friendship: Ephorinus and John.’</a><br />
<br />
<blockquote>
Ep. Do you know the lizard? </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Jo. Why not? </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Ep.
There are very large green ones in Italy. This creature is by nature
friendly to mankind, and an utter enemy to serpents. […] </blockquote>
<blockquote>
The
husbandmen of that place related to us a wonderful strange thing for a
certain truth; that the countrymen being weary sometimes, sleep in that
field, and have sometimes with them a pitcher of milk, which serves both
for victuals and drink; that serpents are great lovers of milk, and so
it often happens that they come in their way. But they have a remedy
for that. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
<br />
Jo. Pray, what is it? </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Ep. They daub the brims of the pitcher with garlic, and the smell of that drives away the serpents. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Jo.
What does Horace mean, then, when he says garlic is a poison more
hurtful than henbane, when you say it is an antidote against poison? </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Ep.
But hear a little, I have something to tell you that is worse than
that. They often creep slily into the mouth of a man that lies sleeping
with his mouth open, and so wind themselves into his stomach. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
<br />
Jo. And does not a man die immediately that has entertained such a guest? </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Ep.
No, but lives most miserably; nor is there any remedy but to feed the
man with milk, and other things that the serpent loves. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
<br />
Jo. What, no remedy against such a calamity? </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Ep. Yes, to eat an abundance of garlic. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Jo. No wonder, then, mowers love garlic. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Ep.
But those that are tired with heat and labour have their remedy another
way; for, when they are in danger of this misfortune, very often a
lizard, though but a little creature, saves a man. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Jo. How can he save him? </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Ep.
When he perceives a serpent lying perdue in wait for the man, he runs
about upon the man’s neck and face, and never gives over till he has
waked the man by tickling him, and clawing him gently with his nails;
and as soon as the man wakes, and sees the lizard near him, he knows the
enemy is somewhere not far off in ambuscade, and looking about seizes
him. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Jo. The wonderful power of nature!</blockquote>
Wonderful indeed.<br />
<br />
The largest Italian lizard species I can find is the Italian wall lizard, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Italian_wall_lizard"><i>Podarcus sicula</i></a> - which is also the most abundant lizard species in Italy. They're up to 3.5 inches (9cm) long, so not very large.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/e0/Podarcis_sicula_on_branch.jpg/800px-Podarcis_sicula_on_branch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/e0/Podarcis_sicula_on_branch.jpg/800px-Podarcis_sicula_on_branch.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Podarcis sicula </i>on a dry branch near Urbino in Tuscany <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Podarcis_sicula_on_branch.jpg">(Florian Prischl/Wikimedia Commons)</a><i>.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.californiaherps.com/lizards/images/podarcissp410Bcu3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.californiaherps.com/lizards/images/podarcissp410Bcu3.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Podarcis sicula</i> found in Los Angeles county. They're very adaptable and have been introduced to part of the US and North Africa (<a href="http://www.californiaherps.com/lizards/pages/p.s.siculus.html">California Herps</a>).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Erasmus was an interesting guy who lead a busy life; he was the illegitimate child of a priest and a woman who was
possibly his housekeeper who lost his parents to the plague and was pressed into monasticism by poverty. He later left the monastery to become a secretary, and was permanently released from his vows by the Pope, which was unusual. He was ordained as a
Catholic priest at the age of 25, although he doesn't seem to have worked as one much. He
studied at the University of Paris on a stipend and then the University of Turin and became a classical
scholar and prominent Christian Humanist thinker and popular writer.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/94/Hans_Holbein_d._J._-_Erasmus_-_Louvre.jpg/453px-Hans_Holbein_d._J._-_Erasmus_-_Louvre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/94/Hans_Holbein_d._J._-_Erasmus_-_Louvre.jpg/453px-Hans_Holbein_d._J._-_Erasmus_-_Louvre.jpg" width="301" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A 1523 portrait of Erasmus by Hans Holbein the Younger, who painted him several times (<a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hans_Holbein_d._J._-_Erasmus_-_Louvre.jpg">Wikimedia</a>).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He was a professor at Cambridge at one point and complained about the lack of wine: <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
At the University of Cambridge, he was the Lady Margaret's Professor of Divinity and had the option of spending the rest of his life as an English professor. He stayed at Queens' College, Cambridge from 1510 to 1515.<sup> </sup>
His rooms were in the "I" staircase of Old Court, and he famously hated
English ale and English weather. He suffered from poor health and
complained that Queens' could not supply him with enough decent wine
(wine was the Renaissance medicine for gallstones, from which Erasmus
suffered). Until the 19th century, Queens' College used to have a
corkscrew that was purported to be "Erasmus' corkscrew" which was a
third of a metre long, though today the college still has what it calls
"Erasmus' chair." (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desiderius_Erasmus">Wikipedia</a>)</blockquote>
In the early sixteenth century, Erasmus produced a critical edition of the New Testament, including the late Greek texts and facing them a more polished Latin translation and his own notes, saying "It is only fair that Paul should address the Romans in somewhat better Latin."<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-33"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desiderius_Erasmus#cite_note-33">[32]</a></sup> <br />
<br />
Later editions of his New Testament were used by Martin Luther as a basis for his German translation, and probably also by Tyndale for the first English New Testament and by Stephanus for the English version that the translators of the King James Version based their text on.<br />
<br />
By the 1530s, the writings of Erasmus accounted for 10 to 20 percent of all book sales in Europe.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-64"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desiderius_Erasmus#cite_note-64">[63]</a></sup><br />
<br />
He died suddenly from dysentery in Basel, Switzerland in 1536. <br />
<br />
A little bit about his <i>Colloquies</i>, from <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colloquies">Wikipedia</a>:<br />
<blockquote>
<i><b>Colloquies</b></i> is one of the many works of the “Prince of Christian Humanists”, Desiderius Erasmus.
Published in 1518, the pages “…held up contemporary religious
practices for examination in a more serious but still pervasively ironic
tone”. […] </blockquote>
<blockquote>
The <i>Colloquies</i> is a collection of dialogues on a wide variety of
subjects. They began in the late 1490s as informal Latin exercises for
Erasmus’ own pupils. In about 1522 he began to perceive the
possibilities this form might hold for continuing his campaign for the
gradual enlightenment and reform of all Christendom.
Between that date and 1533 twelve new editions appeared, each larger
and more serious than the last, until eventually some fifty individual
colloquies were included ranging over such varied subjects as war,
travel, religion, sleep, beggars, funerals, and literature. All of these
works were in the same graceful, easy style and gentle humor that made
them continually sought as schoolboy exercises and light reading for
generations.</blockquote>
They are humorous, and very entertaining. I've downloaded that pdf from Google Books and will probably read more of it, unless I forget.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-28929947052978791672015-10-16T13:38:00.002-07:002015-12-01T20:28:04.761-08:00Harvest 2015: too much zucchini, and cranberry ginger ale<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A few days after the harvest moon (September 27th this year, I think), my brother and cousin carried huge zucchini into the house in armloads like firewood. We had six zucchini plants, and that never seems like too many when you're seeding them, but more than one or two zucchini plants is really Too Much Zucchini. He gave me a smaller one (it's like six inches thick and two feet long) and some cherry tomatoes, and I have no idea what I'm going to do with it. I don't really eat much these days. My mom suggested I carve the zucchini like a jack 'o lantern, which they used to do when they couldn't afford to buy pumpkins.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLmehtS9JS7P2JW-r5llYNiif6yjvz5rOouxn235m9Ze0vq4THJ8drnO1NVFZT1WuTRI1ekFT9NNywB2x_3XGmZaa58pd9N44hg2XeV1xXdVdpvb3y8oEeKLHvQatLXvcfNrxApObD41Hd/s1600/zucchini+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLmehtS9JS7P2JW-r5llYNiif6yjvz5rOouxn235m9Ze0vq4THJ8drnO1NVFZT1WuTRI1ekFT9NNywB2x_3XGmZaa58pd9N44hg2XeV1xXdVdpvb3y8oEeKLHvQatLXvcfNrxApObD41Hd/s400/zucchini+1.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left: a sink full of pickling cukes that turned into little blimps. Right: a row of zucchini, and in front of them a row of Long English cucumbers.</td></tr>
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My cousin spent his day off peeling the sink full of pickling cukes so he could slice them and make basically every sliced pickle recipe he could come up with. They got big enough that the skins were too tough to leave on. His mom came over and helped him for a while. I would have helped too, but I didn't know it was happening until it was already finished, because I went to bed at 6am.<br />
<br />
He intends to mix the Long English cucumbers and zucchini together and grate them and make yellow relish, and chocolate zucchini cake, and soup, and anything else he can think of. I made zucchini marmalade one year. I think they have a food processor up there, but he's still going to be grating and canning and bagging (you can freeze grated zucchini in flat ziploc bags) for a long time. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long English cucumbers that got too big and yellow. I didn't even realise we had that many in there.</td></tr>
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We tried the Long English cucumbers that went yellow, and I was expecting them to be bitter and inedible, but they were actually alright. My cousin said they tasted sort of like watermelon, and my brother said they tasted like the watermelon rind (they were pretty hard), and I told them about pickling watermelon rind with the green skin cut off when I was a teenager. I used to pickle anything that would hold still long enough, because not having anything to eat was a real fear. I don't know how I found the energy to do all that, but it's probably still in the cellar that nobody goes into because it's extremely creepy and the light doesn't work. My mom and grandmother and p much every female relative I have known do the same thing; my mom has an amazing amount of fish in the freezer and discount dried pasta in the cupboards. We still have stacks of plastic yoghurt containers and ice-cream buckets my grandmother saved, and pickles and canned fruit she made in the nineties that nobody knows what to do with. We might need it someday. She's been gone nearly a decade.<br />
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(They ended up throwing most of the old yellow cucumbers out, though. We're not hungry enough for it to be worth the work of canning all those).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yellow pear tomatoes in late August.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grape tomatoes in early August.</td></tr>
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None of the pics I took of the tomatoes we picked in bowls worked out, but I got some of the greenhouse a week or so before they were picked.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tomatoes on September 17, just after I revived them. The plants were a lot yellower and more bare than they look here.</td></tr>
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They're in one-gallon pots and it's around 30C in the greenhouse at that time of year, so the tomatoes have to be watered a couple times a day. I was too sick to leave the house for a while, and when I eventually went out into the garden, the tomatoes were completely limp and nearly dead. I was really puzzled, because the guys had been watering them all year (and I'd been doing it occasionally), so why would they stop right before they finally produced some fruit?<br />
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I asked my cousin, and he said that they just got tired of having to water the damn things all the time on top of going to work etc. If I'd known, I might have gone out sooner, but I don't talk to them often.<br />
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I watered the tomatoes and kept watering them, and broke all the old dead leaves and extra suckers off, and they perked up pretty well. I really didn't expect them to survive, but the fruit that was already half-ripe did end up ripening. The green fruit was completely shrivelled and the flowers died, so I don't think we'll be getting any more tomatoes this year. We only got a few handfuls, and like twelve partially-eaten apples. It was not a good year for anything but zucchini and cucumber.<br />
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(Update: Actually, it's October 16th now, and the tomato plants have new flowers, so we might get a few more tomatoes.)<br />
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Unfortunately, watering the tomatoes after a period of drought made a lot of the fruit split.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfOSOR7LnosJK3gWWQvXrqkphDSnAx3fIc8xTaK7eLgVaR_J9UnH8BR00l9jiSViW9XwL-SOwf5Ohfzi5uwizzcIx9sqf3u_fJwXI3shcrSRotbuhb1tczlXhYYpUC3Kct-yRN5JEXL4L/s1600/split+tomatoes.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfOSOR7LnosJK3gWWQvXrqkphDSnAx3fIc8xTaK7eLgVaR_J9UnH8BR00l9jiSViW9XwL-SOwf5Ohfzi5uwizzcIx9sqf3u_fJwXI3shcrSRotbuhb1tczlXhYYpUC3Kct-yRN5JEXL4L/s320/split+tomatoes.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They're still edible.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cucumber flowers in early August.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pickling cukes and zucchini at the end of August. That's a 4" pot for scale.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zucchini in late August. As soon as it rained the plants were covered in mildew, so that's it for them.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mildewed zucchini plants on September 17. They'd had a chance to grow some since the rain. It's now a month later, and they're definitely toast.</td></tr>
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Artist Ursula Vernon created the little-known anthropomorphic Saint Wombus:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
St. Wombus, a little known saint of the late middle ages, achieved
fame and beatification for what came to be known as the Miracle of the
Zucchini.<br />
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Namely, there was only ever the ONE zucchini.<br />
<br />
This feat, a sort of vegetable inversion of the loaves and fishes,
was so astonishing and obviously counter to nature that Wombus was
beatified at once.<br />
<br />
His blessing is sought by gardeners who have foolishly overplanted.
An icon of St. Wombus, buried upside down in the vegetable patch, is
believed to keep most members of the squash family at manageable levels.<br />
<br />
(Image and description from <a href="http://www.redwombatstudio.com/studio/anthropomorphic/st-wombus-and-the-zucchini/">Red Wombat Studios</a>) </blockquote>
<br />
(An anthropomorphic Christian saint is really not that far-fetched; see <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cynocephaly">cynocephaly</a>. Some saints were popularly depicted with the heads of dogs in Russian Orthodox traditions, especially St. Christopher).<br />
<br />
When my cousin brought me down an armload of vegetables, he threw a
frozen salmon steak he had caught and packaged on top because they have way too
much fish in the freezer. And then they all sat on the porch in the evening sun
drinking cranberry Canada Dry ginger ale mixed with vodka. It was extremely
Canadian.<br />
<br />
Mixing cranberry Canada Dry with vodka and some fruit (blackberries or raspberries in summer) and ice in a large glass or mason jar is really popular (the guys upstairs go for the mason jar), but the soda itself is pretty much the official
special occasion drink of children and people who don't drink in Canada. As far as I can remember, we only had it at birthday dinners and
Christmas when I was a kid, so it was pretty fancy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f3/f4/f9/f3f4f9be9fcf7c8e68f53fed22acb1a2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f3/f4/f9/f3f4f9be9fcf7c8e68f53fed22acb1a2.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From a whole <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/403846291557190665/">Pinterest board of stereotypically Canadian foods</a>. It's kind of embarrassing how accurate it is.</td></tr>
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The soda is a reddish-pink colour, like the can. The colour is 98% of the appeal; I don't remember it tasting any different from regular ginger ale.<br />
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If you look up recipes for non-alcoholic drinks made with cranberry Canada Dry, you'll find them mostly on mom blogs and food blogs. They have some fantastic photography of very pretty drinks, but I won't use it without permission. <br />
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(Putting cranberries in Christmas drinks made with cranberry gingerale is popular in online recipes, but nobody actually likes eating raw cranberries and they're kind of a pain to drink around, so another sort of berry is probably a better bet.)<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-52466226352832257062015-10-04T06:21:00.000-07:002015-10-04T06:23:31.207-07:00Book Review: Farm Rhymes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This 1905 edition is selling for $140, but you can get the ebook free (<a href="http://www.bookstellyouwhy.com/pages/books/24882/james-whitcomb-riley/riley-farm-rhymes">source</a>).</td></tr>
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Verdict: enjoyable, three out of five stars. <br />
<br />
American poet <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Whitcomb_Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</a> (1849-1916) had only an eighth-grade education (he graduated when he was twenty), but he was a successful newspaper reporter and a very popular poet in the 1880s and 1890s. <span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401"><i>Farm Rhymes</i> was first published in 1888 and the poems are quite
Victorian and sentimental, but I think this collection holds up better for
modern adult readers than Riley's children's poems or humorous poems do,
although the latter two were more popular in his lifetime.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401"><span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401"><i>Farm Rhymes</i> is a short collection of simple poems about rural life, written in
either Indiana dialect (I didn't find it hard to understand, and I'm
not American) or standard late nineteenth century American English. Topics include harvest, fishing,
family, nostalgia for childhood, and descriptions of nature - birds and
woods especially. There are black and white illustrations for each poem;
only a third of the pages have text on them, and there's not a lot of
text on each page. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<br />
<span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401"><span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401"> </span></span></span></span><span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401"><span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401">I read this book in about an hour one morning, it's really
very short. </span></span></span></span><span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401"><span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401"><span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401">My
favourite poem out of the collection is 'When the frost is on the
punkin.' It's fairly widely published on the internet, and seasonally
appropriate.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock<br />
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey cock<br />
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens<br />
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence<br />
O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best<br />
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest<br />
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock<br />
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock <br />
<br />
They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere <br />
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here <br />
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees<br />
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees<br />
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze <br />
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days <br />
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock <br />
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock. <br />
<br />
The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn, <br />
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn; <br />
The stubble in the furries kindo' lonesome-like, but still <br />
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill; <br />
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed; <br />
The hosses in theyr stalls below the clover over-head! <br />
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock, <br />
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock! <br />
<br />
Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps <br />
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps; <br />
And your cider-makin' 's over, and your wimmern-folks is through <br />
With their mince and apple butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too!<br />
I don't know how to tell it but ef sich a thing could be <br />
As the Angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me <br />
I'd want to 'commodate 'em all the whole-indurin' flock<br />
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!</blockquote>
<span id="reviewTextContainer1408021401"><span id="freeTextreview1408021401">A scan of the 1901 edition of<i> Farm
Rhymes</i> is available for free <a href="https://archive.org/details/rileyfarmrhymes04rile">on the Internet Archive</a>. The epub doesn't
preserve the line breaks and the scanning program garbled the dialect beyond comprehension,
so I read the PDF.</span></span> More of Riley's works are available for free on <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/356">Project Gutenberg</a>. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-57732225302108277992015-10-04T01:36:00.002-07:002015-10-04T02:55:20.333-07:00you tread lightly on the surface of this autumn day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's early October; the days are getting shorter, and the leaves are changing colour. The colours here are a lot more muted than they are back east, but it's still pretty. I had forgotten about fall, not having experienced it in so many years, and I'm rediscovering it.<br />
<br />
The maple leaves are changing from green to yellow and brown.<br />
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<br />
Fallen leaves are collecting on the grass:<br />
<br />
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<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"October, crisp, misty, golden October, when the light is sweet and heavy." - Angela Carter,<i> The Magic Toyshop</i> </blockquote>
<br />
Halloween is definitely coming; pumpkin spice lattes are advertised outside the coffee shop in town, the drugstore is selling bags of Halloween candy, and there are pumpkins for sale on the roadside outside small farms.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://scontent-sea1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xfp1/v/t1.0-9/12011261_1521897208102126_2374829983360870978_n.jpg?oh=b63a65f4870fbf355a0aa8d7cb228c50&oe=568D93F7" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://scontent-sea1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xfp1/v/t1.0-9/12011261_1521897208102126_2374829983360870978_n.jpg?oh=b63a65f4870fbf355a0aa8d7cb228c50&oe=568D93F7" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They're between $8 and $15. Too much for me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The hardware store has fancy kale plants for sale. You can actually eat decorative kale, but I don't think people usually do.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiaKZI8OS91Gsl1Xyz6l5ZaeyDiHonyieY3mJjhmRDQGL8oM3fC8RdjxWFn_lf_dz1YV9lTbaUuwnq3LyUc9cGuCCMaioIqcEqA4ygTQbLAXqtLw2QT4lwhfFRE0nMaEzbWq56V4OD3OE5/s1600/purple+kale.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiaKZI8OS91Gsl1Xyz6l5ZaeyDiHonyieY3mJjhmRDQGL8oM3fC8RdjxWFn_lf_dz1YV9lTbaUuwnq3LyUc9cGuCCMaioIqcEqA4ygTQbLAXqtLw2QT4lwhfFRE0nMaEzbWq56V4OD3OE5/s400/purple+kale.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Purple-heart kale.</td></tr>
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The blue hydrangeas outside the church are turning purple with the colder weather:<br />
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<br />
Most of the landscape is still green, though:<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://36.media.tumblr.com/e9004d648bcd7db32c70e9f710ccf0d1/tumblr_nvoctsNble1s3itmfo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://36.media.tumblr.com/e9004d648bcd7db32c70e9f710ccf0d1/tumblr_nvoctsNble1s3itmfo1_1280.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three cows in a neighbour's field.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Someone has grape vines growing on their fence, but the fruit and leaves only start above deer height. I think it's kind of funny:<br />
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<br />
The fir and cedar trees will stay green all year. Aside from a few sweet gum or Japanese maple trees planted in parks, the only brightly coloured fall foliage you see around here is Himalayan blackberry leaves:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://41.media.tumblr.com/cadac1d1e3a06f58dab5397dfea198ad/tumblr_nvocrsV2OY1s3itmfo4_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://41.media.tumblr.com/cadac1d1e3a06f58dab5397dfea198ad/tumblr_nvocrsV2OY1s3itmfo4_1280.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm told blackberry leaves make good tea, but I haven't tried it yet.</td></tr>
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The rosehips on the wild rose bushes that are everywhere along the sides of the roads and along fencelines have turned red too:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took this photo on Eid al-Adha morning this year. Shortly after, it started to rain hard.</td></tr>
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Mist hangs over the fields in the early morning:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://scontent-sea1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xla1/v/t1.0-9/11988471_1518658625092651_5193541845225411587_n.jpg?oh=255ddcb55e9ef157f19901cfed8c091a&oe=569B171B" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://scontent-sea1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xla1/v/t1.0-9/11988471_1518658625092651_5193541845225411587_n.jpg?oh=255ddcb55e9ef157f19901cfed8c091a&oe=569B171B" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took this photo around 6:30 am, and it was already dissipating.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
O hushed October morning mild,</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Should waste them all.</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
The crows above the forest call;</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Tomorrow they may form and go.</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
O hushed October morning mild,</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Begin the hours of this day slow.</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Make the day seem to us less brief.</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Beguile us in the way you know.</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Release one leaf at break of day;</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
At noon release another leaf;</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
One from our trees, one far away.</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Retard the sun with gentle mist;</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Enchant the land with amethyst.</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Slow, slow!</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
- <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/238116">'October', Robert Frost (1915)</a></div>
</blockquote>
I found my first woolly bear. I must have seen them as a kid, but this one is the first one I can remember:<br />
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<br />
It's the caterpillar of the Isabella Tiger Moth; I think the caterpillar is a lot more interesting than the adult moth is. Some fuzzy caterpillars are poisonous and will sting you if you touch them, but woolly bears are harmless. They hatch in the fall, and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyrrharctia_isabella">Wikipedia</a> tells me that they freeze solid in the winter. In spring they thaw out and pupate<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pupa" title="Pupa"></a>. Once it emerges from its pupa as a moth, it has only days to find a mate. Because the summer is so short in the Arctic, up north they can live through as many as fourteen winters before they eat enough to pupate.<br />
<br />
There's an old bit of folklore that says that the bands of brown and black on the woolly bear can be used to predict how severe the coming winter will be, but it doesn't look like anyone's been able to demonstrate that it's accurate:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
According to folk wisdom, when the brown bands on fall woolly bears
are narrow, it means a harsh winter is coming. The wider the brown band,
the milder the winter will be. Some towns hold annual woolly worm
festivals in the fall, complete with caterpillar races and an official
declaration of the woolly worm's prediction for that winter.<br />
<br />
Are
the woolly worm's bands really an accurate way to predict the winter
weather? Dr. C.H. Curran, former curator of insects at the American
Museum of Natural History in New York City, tested the woolly worms'
accuracy in the 1950's. His surveys found an 80% accuracy rate for the
woolly worms' weather predictions.<br />
<br />
Other researchers have not been able to replicate the success rate of Curran's caterpillars, though. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Today, entomologists agree that woolly worms are
not accurate predictors of winter weather. Many variables may contribute
to changes in the caterpillar's coloration, including larval stage,
food availability, temperature or moisture during development, age, and
even species. (<a href="http://insects.about.com/od/insectfolklore/f/woolly-bears-winter.htm">about.com</a>) </blockquote>
It's getting colder and rains a fair bit, so the cats spend a lot more time indoors, or laying in the sun on afternoons when it's not raining:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiotZdeLKihc90gJYw8St8rE3G76nRF-45BtvjciVokYHHfbgQluObmW7vNqvd7NywcYwPo3m5QDUp14xzjs3C1jrMY7rd0cCI_eUt33wAGYOk9anN2zpvvGEWHSfz1eh8EE1-zprM1nUI6/s1600/jesse+sept.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiotZdeLKihc90gJYw8St8rE3G76nRF-45BtvjciVokYHHfbgQluObmW7vNqvd7NywcYwPo3m5QDUp14xzjs3C1jrMY7rd0cCI_eUt33wAGYOk9anN2zpvvGEWHSfz1eh8EE1-zprM1nUI6/s400/jesse+sept.png" width="386" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting in the garden reading one chilly afternoon. He was comfortable, but eventually my hands went numb and I had to go back inside.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpG0Zh9OKkT8Tx7OGMxs9KHxwDGPGokDMU-MiPloFDxQHFjvleTsv1c2IVQhFUzXIJqnyVLg2pVMFlQJ5_1iIH9_hU8cFBJc0sIBtoa-b9Wj4M8Clz3MACDEZZtD2SGTHyU0NC_ddRW0p/s1600/gracie.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpG0Zh9OKkT8Tx7OGMxs9KHxwDGPGokDMU-MiPloFDxQHFjvleTsv1c2IVQhFUzXIJqnyVLg2pVMFlQJ5_1iIH9_hU8cFBJc0sIBtoa-b9Wj4M8Clz3MACDEZZtD2SGTHyU0NC_ddRW0p/s1600/gracie.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gracie laying on the garden path.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Jesse sleeps on my lap all day while I read, and then follows me around the fields meowing at me to pet him. Which I do.<br />
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<br />
Right before I took this picture he was on the other side of a blackberry bramble yowling like a lost toddler because he couldn't find me, and I had to go get him. Silly cat. He's sitting in a catloaf next to me on the couch right now, huffing because I'm using the laptop and he can't sit on my lap.<br />
<br />
The skies are brilliant blue and mostly clear, but I catch some interesting clouds occasionally. It's overcast here, most of the year.<br />
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<br />
I was reading a passage from Mahmoud Darwish today, and thought it was fitting. This was his last work; he knew he wouldn't live much longer. I think it's his best.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="post_title small">
<span class="quote">This is your autumn,
opening, spreading the strong scent of exile and empty letters. So fill
them with the yellow, coffee-brown, gold, and copper – nonsynonymous
colors – of leaves that take their time in bidding farewell to the tree
because the wind is absent today. You are so lonesome you do not think
of loneliness. Because you have not bid farewell to anyone since
yesterday, you do not care if your shadow “walks before you or behind
you.” The air is light and the earth seems solid.
And this is not one of the attributes of exile, as they said.<br />
<br />
This is your autumn, emerging from a hot summer, from a season of global
fatigue, from a seemingly endless war. An autumn that ripens the
forgotten grapes on high mountains. An autumn that prepares for grand
gatherings where the assembly of old gods reviews drafts of fates still
being written, hammering out a truce between summer and winter. But
autumn in the east is short. It passes like a quick wave from one
traveler on horseback to another, as they pass each other, going in
opposite directions. No one can rely on such an autumn, on dust storms,
or on a temporary marriage.<br />
<br />
As for autumn here – the autumn of a Paris returning from its long
vacation – nature, tempted by rain, devotes itself to writing its lush
poems with all of its skill and with the help of aging wine. A long,
long autumn, like a Catholic marriage contract that does not betray its
joy or misery to someone like you, a bystander. A patient autumn. An
erotic embrace of light and shadow, male and female, of a sky that
descends respectfully over trees disrobing with dignity, before the
confusion of temptations between raining drops of light and luminous
drops of water. An autumn showing off. An autumn becoming one with the
beginnings of three seasons: summer’s nudity, winter’s intercourse, and
spring’s youth.<br />
<br />
And you, you tread lightly on the surface of this autumn day. You are
invigorated, infatuated, and stunned: “How can anyone die on a day like
this?” You do not know whether you live in autumn or whether it lives in
you, even if you remember that you are in the autumn of life, where
mind and heart master listening to time with a harmonious collusion of
pleasure and wisdom. A noble rhythm raises the body to sense what is
missing, so it is filled all the more with the beauty of cloudlessness
and cloudiness. It prepares itself, like a weather station, to observe
the appropriate weather conditions for a passing conversation: “It’s a
beautiful day, isn’t it? So why don’t we meet for coffee?” The aroma of
coffee has doors that lead to another journey: to friendship, love, or
loss without pain. Coffee moves from the metaphorical to the tangible.<br />
<br />
A secret rhythm leads this experience to an absolute sense of departure;
to the encounter between an autumn strolling through squares with the
crowd, people and doves, and your own private autumn, your inner autumn.
You wonder, as someone else has: Are we what we do with time, or are we
what time does with us? Finding a response does not interest you as
much as slowing down time. You do not want this autumn to end, just as
you do not want the poem to grow to fullness and end. You do not want to
reach winter. Let autumn be your private eternity.<br />
</span></div>
<table class="quote_source_table"><tbody>
<tr><td class="quote_source_mdash">—
</td><td class="quote_source">Mahmoud Darwish, ‘In the Presence of Absence,’ Chapter X, translated by Sinan Antoon (2011).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</blockquote>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-30073716871210928722015-09-27T23:43:00.001-07:002015-10-04T05:57:37.650-07:00Neighbourhood fruit banditry and a supermoon<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We picked the last of the apples on the bear tree this evening, before the crows could peck holes in the rest of them. (Jesse helped by crouching under the porch watching and yowling at me to come pet him. I obliged. He’s currently sprawled on my lap purring while I pet him with one hand and type with my other hand).<br />
<br />
Every time my brother opened the upstairs window, a huge flock of crows took flight from the tree; the sound of deer chomping on apples in the middle of the night was creeping out his girlfriend; and the fruit was attracting bears. My brother saw a bear wander around the yard and then climb the poor tree again. They're eventually going to totally break it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://41.media.tumblr.com/cfd2bc9352698f0f837fd41838c5f454/tumblr_nvd7y49dSN1s3itmfo1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://41.media.tumblr.com/cfd2bc9352698f0f837fd41838c5f454/tumblr_nvd7y49dSN1s3itmfo1_400.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crows sit in the tree and peck at the apples. They got pretty much all of them, but they're still edible. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://36.media.tumblr.com/926eab0ab3a0ea4e2538d23e3365b5e0/tumblr_nvd7y49dSN1s3itmfo2_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://36.media.tumblr.com/926eab0ab3a0ea4e2538d23e3365b5e0/tumblr_nvd7y49dSN1s3itmfo2_400.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My brother had to pick most of the apples, me and his girlfriend are both too short.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I thought the guys had borrowed a ladder and picked the other trees last month, but it turns out the next door neighbour called my brother and asked if he could come over with his kids and pick some fruit. My brother went out the next day, and all four full sized apple and pear trees and the old crabapple tree were completely stripped, the neighbour must have gotten a 30 foot fruit picking ladder from somewhere and spent a lot of time at it. He even picked up every single windfall from the ground and took them, too. Rude.<br />
<br />
What is he even going to do with all that fruit? Maybe he’s extremely fond of applesauce, I have no idea. We're not even mad, that's the sort of thing the guy does. Too bad about all that fruit though, we were looking forward to that.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://36.media.tumblr.com/a1865c72aead8bb3a844efc0c40920b6/tumblr_nvd7y49dSN1s3itmfo3_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://36.media.tumblr.com/a1865c72aead8bb3a844efc0c40920b6/tumblr_nvd7y49dSN1s3itmfo3_400.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tree after we picked it. We left some apples on the ground for the deer. That furry black blob on the right hand edge under the porch is Jesse.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://41.media.tumblr.com/ecb61a7b1b3cb6dad3fc0b3123084771/tumblr_nvd7y49dSN1s3itmfo5_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://41.media.tumblr.com/ecb61a7b1b3cb6dad3fc0b3123084771/tumblr_nvd7y49dSN1s3itmfo5_400.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
So the only fruit we got this year was the few crow-pecked apples from the bear tree that the wildlife didn’t completely eat. My brother and his girlfriend are going to cut them up and make a crumble. She’s trying to convince him that it’ll be fine without butter or much sugar, but he’s not buying it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqA4thowOOtxCTvFP32JMqQSVLed1BTQajRke6TlR8p48WAtXt6L_ausc-5XXygzufYQ7RFh08jEf0P_1ex6SkBzlkpwTEXQ27XlGdZ-qyTCqhWb95gKXxmEKjI1h7p6Q5Vwpe4H0pIw3s/s1600/apples+sept+16+2015.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqA4thowOOtxCTvFP32JMqQSVLed1BTQajRke6TlR8p48WAtXt6L_ausc-5XXygzufYQ7RFh08jEf0P_1ex6SkBzlkpwTEXQ27XlGdZ-qyTCqhWb95gKXxmEKjI1h7p6Q5Vwpe4H0pIw3s/s400/apples+sept+16+2015.png" width="383" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The apples on September 16th, untouched by crows. We should have picked them then. Oh well.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Tonight was the harvest moon and also a combination supermoon (when the moon is full and at its closest point to the earth, so it appears much larger than usual), and lunar eclipse, which colours the moon red. (<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/science/space/11884692/What-is-a-supermoon-lunar-eclipse.html">Watch the NASA video explaining it</a>). That coincidence hasn't happened since 1982, and won't happen again until 2033. But we are as far west as it gets, so the moon didn't make it over the horizon before the eclipse ended, much less over the trees. That's okay though, I have seen supermoons and lunar eclipses before, and there are lots of great photos of the event on the internet.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://40.media.tumblr.com/a3b30bcbb2b69113fb6c85fe16102c9b/tumblr_nvddijplCM1s3itmfo1_540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://40.media.tumblr.com/a3b30bcbb2b69113fb6c85fe16102c9b/tumblr_nvddijplCM1s3itmfo1_540.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A flock of birds fly by as the supermoon rises in Mir, Belarus, 95 kilometers west of capital Minsk (<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/11895052/Supermoon-lunar-eclipse-2015-Amazing-pictures-of-once-in-a-generation-event-live.html">Telegraph</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
I imagine the moon would have looked like this in Canada. It was a clear, sunny day today and there were a lot of birds flying around.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://41.media.tumblr.com/08f43bc643bbda53db70b6b2212783ba/tumblr_nvdazd86SF1rdntffo1_540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://41.media.tumblr.com/08f43bc643bbda53db70b6b2212783ba/tumblr_nvdazd86SF1rdntffo1_540.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://40.media.tumblr.com/80fac085ec1df7f3b72f364e58a157e2/tumblr_nvdazd86SF1rdntffo2_r1_540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://40.media.tumblr.com/80fac085ec1df7f3b72f364e58a157e2/tumblr_nvdazd86SF1rdntffo2_r1_540.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The supermoon rises near the minaret of a mosque in Wadi El-Rayan Lake in Fayoum Governorate, southwest of Cairo (Sources: <a href="http://m.oglobo.globo.com/sociedade/o-eclipse-da-superlua-17623111">O Globo</a>; <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/picturegalleries/worldnews/11894255/Blood-Moon-in-pictures-Total-supermoon-lunar-eclipse-seen-around-the-world.html?frame=3455418">Telegraph</a>).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Muslims see eclipses as a reminder of the Day of Judgement<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">, when the sun, moon, and stars will all lose their light.</span></span><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span><span lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Traditional Arabic"; font-size: 16.0pt;"> فَإِذَا بَرِقَ الْبَصَرُ <span style="color: green;">﴿</span><span style="color: maroon;">٧</span><span style="color: green;">﴾</span> وَخَسَفَ الْقَمَرُ <span style="color: green;">﴿</span><span style="color: maroon;">٨</span><span style="color: green;">﴾</span>
وَجُمِعَ الشَّمْسُ وَالْقَمَرُ <span style="color: green;">﴿</span><span style="color: maroon;">٩</span><span style="color: green;">﴾</span>
يَقُولُ الْإِنسَانُ يَوْمَئِذٍ أَيْنَ الْمَفَرُّ </span><b><span lang="AR-SA" style="font-family: "Traditional Arabic"; font-size: 16.0pt;"><span style="color: green;"><br /></span></span></b><br />
<h2 class="text-left" data-reactid=".2b9uph1yark.0.1.2.0.0.1.$undefined-7-ayah.1.1:$0.1">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">So when vision is dazzled</span></span></span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: verdana, geneva;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">, and the moon darkens, and the sun and
moon are joined together: </span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Man will say on that Day, "Where is the [place of] escape?"</span></span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: verdana, geneva;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></span> </span>(<a href="http://quran.com/75">Al-Qiyamah 75:7-10</a>)</span></span> </h2>
</blockquote>
<br />
The pre-Islamic Arabs believed that celestial bodies had power over events and people's fates, and sometimes worshipped them or associated them with their gods, but this is not part of Islamic belief.<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> وَمِنْ آياتِهِ اللَّيْلُ
وَالنَّهارُ وَالشَّمْسُ وَالْقَمَرُ لا تَسْجُدُوا لِلشَّمْسِ وَلا
لِلْقَمَرِ وَاسْجُدُوا لِلَّهِ الَّذِي خَلَقَهُنَّ إِنْ كُنْتُمْ
إِيَّاهُ تَعْبُدُونَ </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Among His signs are the night and the day and the sun and moon.
Do not prostrate yourselves before the sun or the moon; rather
prostrate yourselves before Allah, Who created them both, if you
truly are His worshippers. (<a href="http://www.alim.org/library/quran/ayah/compare/41/37/the-best-in-speech-is-the-one-who-calls-people-towards-allah,-do-good-deeds-and-say,-%22i-am-a-muslim%22-and-example-of-allah's-signs-and-nothing-is-said-to-muhammad-which-was-not-said-to-the-prior-prophets-and-al-quran-is-a-guide-and-healing-for-the-believers">Fussilat 41:37</a>)</span></span> </blockquote>
On the day the Prophet Muhammad's <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ibrahim_ibn_Muhammad">infant son Ibrahim died</a> in the year 10 AH/632 AD, there was a solar eclipse and people thought the sun was eclipsed in sadness over the death Ibrahim's death, but the Prophet said:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
«إنَّ الشمسَ والقمرَ من آيات اللهِ، وإنهما لا يَنخسفان لموتِ أحدٍ ولا
لحياتِه، فإذا رأيتُموهما فكبِّروا، وادعو اللهَ وصلُّوا وتصدَّقوا» <br />
Sahih Muslim, narrated by A'ishah bint Abu Bakr, no. 901 (<a href="https://ar.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D8%A5%D8%A8%D8%B1%D8%A7%D9%87%D9%8A%D9%85_%D8%A8%D9%86_%D9%85%D8%AD%D9%85%D8%AF#cite_note-7">Wikipedia</a>)<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“The sun and the moon do not eclipse
because of the death or life (i.e. birth) of someone. When you see the
eclipse praise Allah, make dua and pray and give charity."</span></span> </blockquote>
<br />
There was an eclipse when I was in college in Jordan, and the students in the dorm prayed salaat al<span style="font-family: inherit;">-kusoof (the</span> eclipse prayer) in congregation, although it can be prayed individually.<br />
<br />
Salaat
al-kusoof is two raka'at with long recitations of the Quran in each,
prayed after a solar or lunar eclipse starts and lasting no longer than
the eclipse does (although it doesn't have to be that long). If it's a
total eclipse, surat al-baqarah is often read in the first raka'ah.
There are a number of hadith describing how to pray it, including two
well-known ones narrated by Aishah. It's mostly considered a confirmed
sunnah (<a href="http://www.onislam.net/english/ask-the-scholar/acts-of-worship/prayer/supererogatory-prayers/169765-solar-aamp-lunar-eclipses-a-muslim-perspective.html">instructions on how to pray it here</a>).
The Imam ash-Shafi'i and two of the other four sunni imams (not Hanafi)
recommend that a khutbah (sermon) be given after salaat al-kusoof, but
at school or at home there was no one to give one.<br />
<br />
(Sorry about the allcaps on that one Quran verse in English, I didn't mean to shout. Some of the formatting is weird here, but I couldn't fix it. Getting html to work when you're pasting in both English and Arabic quotes is such a pain, and my favourite Quran site no longer uses images of the verses in Arabic so I can't just put those in and avoid the formatting problems). </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-37838958589439568752015-09-24T22:49:00.000-07:002015-10-05T23:19:31.926-07:00Mafra Palace Library<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/d1fd60721a361d20b495d4582cd02f78/tumblr_n0qj1euugq1rdntffo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/d1fd60721a361d20b495d4582cd02f78/tumblr_n0qj1euugq1rdntffo1_1280.jpg" height="248" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">
Mafra Palace Library, Portugal</div>
<br />
From <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/books/10382588/The-most-spectacular-libraries-in-the-world.html?frame=2705756" style="-webkit-animation: documents_linkInserted 1ms; color: #0f6f9f; text-decoration: none;">The Telegraph:</a> <br />
<blockquote style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since its opening in 1771, the Mafra Palace Library has been home to a colony of tiny bats; they roost behind the cases in winter, and in the orchard outside in the summer, swooping in during the night to eat insects which would otherwise damage the books.</div>
</blockquote>
More about the library and the colonial history behind its creation under the cut.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a> From the <a href="http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/brainiac/2013/09/bats_eat_bookwo.html">Boston Globe</a>:<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">In a new book, "</span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Library-A-World-History/dp/022609281X" style="-webkit-animation: documents_linkInserted 1ms; background-color: white; color: #45569c; cursor: pointer; font-family: georgia; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-decoration: none;">The Library: A World History</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">," author James Campbell and photographer Will Pryce survey the world's libraries... The book is full of interesting asides, including the fact about the bats, which live at the Biblioteca Joanina and the Mafra Palace Library in Portugal. In an email, Campbell explained that the bats, which are less than inch long, roost during the day behind "elaborate rococo bookcases" and come out at night to hunt insects which otherwise would feast on the libraries' books. The price of this natural insect control is paid in scat: The bats, Campbell writes, "leave a thin layer of droppings over everything. So each morning the floors have to be thoroughly cleaned...and the furniture has to be covered at night."</span></blockquote>
<span style="color: #202020; font-family: Georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Official website of the</span></span> <a href="http://www.palaciomafra.pt/en-GB/Library/ContentList.aspx">Palácio Nacional de Mafra</a>:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Some
rare works furnish its shelves to this day, as incunabula (books
printed until 1500) like the Nuremberg Chronicle (1493), and other
precious books as the Theatrvm Orbis Terrarvm by Ortelius (1595), the
famous Nuremberg Chronicle and the firts enciclopidiae - known as
Diderot et d'Alembert.Also, a nucleus of scores from musicians such as
João de Sousa Carvalho or Marcos Portugal, composed expressly to be
played on the Basilica's six organs.<br />
<br />
Attesting its importance, a
Papal bull of Pope Benedictus XV, from 1745, allows this Library to
shelter the Index of prohibited books and forbids under excommunication
“to anyone of any state or condition, in any time or in any way, to
take, remove or lend from the Library without the permission of the
Portuguese King, any printed books or manuscripts inhere stored”.<br />
<br />
The Library is open to scholars, researchers, historians or occasional readers over 18 years, by appointment.</blockquote>
From <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mafra_National_Palace">Wikipedia</a>, which does not include any inline sources in this section:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Besides natural techniques of conservation for the books, such as the lack of space between the wall and the book (so it doesn't create humidity), there are also a few bats that inhabit this library eating any insect that could destroy this invaluable treasure. The bats are kept in boxes that are placed under the bookshelves. At night, the boxes are opened and the bats feed themselves 500 insects, equivalent to the double of their weight. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The Library was used in [the TV miniseries] <i>Gulliver's Travels</i> (1996) as the Great Chamber of War for the Emperor of Lilliput.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Initially it was a relatively small project for a friary of 13 Capuchin friars, who were to observe strict poverty. However, when the flow of gold from the Portuguese colony of Brazil started to arrive in Lisbon in abundance, the king changed his plans and announced the construction of a sumptuous palace along with a much enlarged friary. This immense wealth allowed to king to be a generous patron of arts.</blockquote>
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colonial_Brazil">Colonial Brazil gold cycle:</a><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The discovery of gold was met with great enthusiasm by Portugal, which had an economy in disarray following years of wars against Spain and the Netherlands. A gold rush quickly ensued, with people from other parts of the colony and Portugal flooding the region in the first half of the 18th century. The large portion of the Brazilian inland where gold was extracted became known as the Minas Gerais (General Mines). Gold mining in this area became the main economic activity of colonial Brazil during the 18th century. In Portugal, the gold was mainly used to pay for industrialized goods (textiles, weapons) obtained from countries like England and, especially during the reign of King John V, to build magnificent Baroque monuments like the Convent of Mafra. Apart from gold, diamond deposits were also found in 1729 around the village of Tijuco, now Diamantina.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
In the hilly landscape of Minas Gerais, gold was present in <a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alluvial_deposit" style="-webkit-animation: documents_linkInserted 1ms; background-image: none; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Alluvial deposit">alluvial deposits</a> around streams and was extracted using pans and other similar instruments that required little technology. Gold extraction was mostly done by <a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slaves" style="-webkit-animation: documents_linkInserted 1ms; background-image: none; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Slaves">slaves</a>. The Portuguese Crown allowed particulars to extract the gold, requiring a fifth (20%) of the gold (the <i>quinto</i>) to be sent to the colonial government as tribute. To prevent smuggling and extract the <i>quinto</i>, in 1725 the government ordered all gold to be <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casting_(metalworking)" style="-webkit-animation: documents_linkInserted 1ms; background-image: none; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Casting (metalworking)">cast</a> into bars in the <i>Casas de Fundição </i>(Casting Houses), and sent armies to the region to prevent disturbances and oversee the mining process. The Royal tribute was very unpopular in Minas Gerais, and gold was frequently hidden from colonial authorities. Eventually, the <i>quinto</i> contributed to rebellious movements like the <i>Levante de Vila Rica</i>, in 1720, and the <i>Inconfidência Mineira</i>, in 1789.</blockquote>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://books.google.com.om/books?id=gzBHJt4FtC8C&pg=PA190&lpg=PA190&dq=colonial+brazil+gold+cycle&source=bl&ots=TF992x1FWr&sig=PqrDVuUuVlUpDj8w8f2bJDK7FD8&hl=en&sa=X&ei=VcT8UuTmHcuprAfaiIHgAw&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q&f=true">Colonial Brazil: the gold cycle pg 196-197</a></span><br />
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In 1701 the king prohibited communication or transportation
of cattle or foodstuffs from Bahia to the ‘mines of S<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">ã</span>o Paulo’, or commerce
in the opposite direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Insufficient
numbers of enforcement officers, coupled with the virtual impossibility of
patrolling the vast areas of the hinterland, limited the effectiveness of such
orders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1704 the crown forbade the
re-export from Bahia to the mines of commodities imported from Portugal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such restrictions were equally ineffectual;
the lure of higher profits from sales in the mining areas was inducement enough
to lead cattle drovers and merchants to evade controls and even to engage in
hand-to-hand fighting with enforcement patrols rather than renounce their
trading practices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>[…] </blockquote>
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The crown also acted to protect the society and economy of
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if it were as a cabin boy or sailor, on payment of ten or fifteen gold coins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Measures were not strictly enforced as ports
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi;"></span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi;">Oporto was notorious for the laxness of its authorities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1733 three ships from Oporto arrived in
Bahia carrying over 700 passengers without permission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1742 the viceroy, the Conde das Galv</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi;">ê</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi;">as, noted the large numbers of migrants to
Brazil from Portugal and the Atlantic islands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Their destinations were Bahia, Pernambuco, Maranh</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi;">ã</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi;">o, and especially Rio de Janeiro as affording
quickest access to the mining areas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
estimated that some 1,500 to 1,600 persons left Portugal annually for Brazil
and that the majority went to the mines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because so few returned to Portugal, he sounded a warning note on the
prejudicial effects such migration could have on the mother country.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.all-about-portugal.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/mafra-national-palace-library.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.all-about-portugal.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/mafra-national-palace-library.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.all-about-portugal.com/mafra-national-palace/">(Photo by Xavi Llunell via about portugal)</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">
<a href="http://www.all-about-portugal.com/mafra-national-palace/"></a><br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/6a/14/library-6a145ae219a280413db5d206f6866986_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://cdnimg.visualizeus.com/thumbs/6a/14/library-6a145ae219a280413db5d206f6866986_h.jpg" height="400" width="335" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Droid Sans', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=tYrXafVIG5uNMM&tbnid=7b0fD2yTe2fkRM:&ved=0CAMQjhw&url=http%3A%2F%2Fvi.sualize.us%2Fthe_national_palace_in_mafra_portugal_library_picture_AeXQ.html&ei=nnH8UpKtN8ip0QXs6IAw&bvm=bv.61190604,d.d2k&psig=AFQjCNE8xWZ4_jQxL3hvPQhvotnS5_j-qw&ust=1392361783882607">(source)</a></span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cdn1.vtourist.com/4/5896991-Mafra_library_Portugal_Mafra.jpg%3fversion=2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://cdn1.vtourist.com/4/5896991-Mafra_library_Portugal_Mafra.jpg%3fversion=2" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=_M2h1M6e3B5OmM&tbnid=eWWfePTnd39khM:&ved=0CAQQjB0&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.virtualtourist.com%2Ftravel%2FEurope%2FPortugal%2FDistrito_de_Lisboa%2FMafra-285773%2FGeneral_Tips-Mafra-TG-C-1.html&ei=snL8UvunA4WI0AXYjYHABw&bvm=bv.61190604,d.d2k&psig=AFQjCNE8xWZ4_jQxL3hvPQhvotnS5_j-qw&ust=1392361783882607">(source)</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://secure.flickr.com/photos/8724323@N06/6918020146/">(source)</a></td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-86035631140816608682015-09-24T22:15:00.000-07:002015-10-04T03:16:20.589-07:00also topped with yellow peaches<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Some of this is a little inappropriate, but we could all use a laugh and it involves cats, an interesting woman from history, and a Japanese folktale.<br />
<br />
So there are pictures circulating of Japanese internet sensation Shironeko and a cat friend doing...something with...something:<br />
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<a href="http://blog-imgs-81.fc2.com/k/a/g/kagonekoshiro/f15092415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://blog-imgs-81.fc2.com/k/a/g/kagonekoshiro/f15092415.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://blog-imgs-81.fc2.com/k/a/g/kagonekoshiro/f15092416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://blog-imgs-81.fc2.com/k/a/g/kagonekoshiro/f15092416.jpg" height="315" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Images from <a href="http://kagonekoshiro.blog86.fc2.com/blog-entry-11462.html">Shironeko's blog, in Japanese</a>. I also ran the post <a href="https://translate.google.com/translate?sl=auto&tl=en&js=y&prev=_t&hl=en&ie=UTF-8&u=http%3A%2F%2Fkagonekoshiro.blog86.fc2.com%2Fblog-entry-11462.html&edit-text=&act=url">through Google Translate</a>).</td></tr>
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Those are real peaches; they're yellow peaches and they really are as big as they look. I'm not the only one who thinks they look like butts:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEielXKDFr6XnzQ0dKj6u0CVrDDBd9hLqVvh-pZyFx5F5t-hTlh9BB4_6-DAxy284OWc-DwjobchvrCmjwUPTqj7KTJHfuYUmLB_WREwZCY0XF02ldVjXxksf-UwyjMFaM20HFEuucWVJ-F0/s1600/like+butts.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEielXKDFr6XnzQ0dKj6u0CVrDDBd9hLqVvh-pZyFx5F5t-hTlh9BB4_6-DAxy284OWc-DwjobchvrCmjwUPTqj7KTJHfuYUmLB_WREwZCY0XF02ldVjXxksf-UwyjMFaM20HFEuucWVJ-F0/s1600/like+butts.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(From the comments on the original blog post. I took screenshots of the Google translation of the page).</td></tr>
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About five other commenters said the same thing. Butts! Whomever took those photos does have really great photography "put skills" (I can't think how else to phrase that), and very cooperative cats.<br />
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Someone in the comments wrote a little story about the cats and their peaches, but I have no idea what's going on:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI9CCbf7szXR1b8NE-GwRjbuk8cz11vURuX1B8eaGjeyUkjyX-5Hi_vyY8kiQPo164qpwcmPR2ZKFmBjsDgKa81XOzr1_sCnS75SanST4ms-tt7VN0zG7_LGAOlSF09vGL4rsQETpeNjDh/s1600/tea+tiger+diary.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI9CCbf7szXR1b8NE-GwRjbuk8cz11vURuX1B8eaGjeyUkjyX-5Hi_vyY8kiQPo164qpwcmPR2ZKFmBjsDgKa81XOzr1_sCnS75SanST4ms-tt7VN0zG7_LGAOlSF09vGL4rsQETpeNjDh/s1600/tea+tiger+diary.png" /></a></div>
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"Bugger also topped with yellow peaches." Indeed. Thank you, Google Translate. I have no idea what word it's translating as "bugger"; it doesn't look like it's any better at translating Japanese into English than it is at translating Arabic into English.<br />
<br />
Low-acid, fragile clingstone peaches are popular in Japan, different from the varieties popular in North America and the Middle East:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<table cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" style="width: 100%px;"><tbody>
<tr><td><span class="old_text_2">
<b>Momo</b> (Peach)
</span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span class="old_text_2">
Japanese peaches are generally larger, softer and more expensive than
Western peaches, and their flesh is usually white rather than yellow.
Peaches are commonly eaten raw after being peeled. Japanese peaches are
in season during the summer.
</span></td></tr>
<tr><td><span class="old_text_2">
Peaches were introduced from China as early as the <a href="http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2131.html" target="_top">Yayoi Period</a> (300 BC- 300 AD). Peach production in the prefectures of <a href="http://www.japan-guide.com/list/e1217.html" target="_top">Yamanashi</a> and <a href="http://www.japan-guide.com/list/e1208.html" target="_top">Fukushima</a>
make up the majority of the country's total output. The peach features
prominently in the Japanese folklore tale of Momotaro (The Peach Boy),
which is set in <a href="http://www.japan-guide.com/list/e1232.html" target="_top">Okayama Prefecture</a>.
</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2347.html">(From Japan Guide)</a></blockquote>
<br />
A summary of the story of Momotaro, from <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Momotar%C5%8D#Story">Wikipedia</a>:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
According to the present form of the tale (dating to the Edo period), Momotarō came to Earth inside a giant peach,
which was found floating down a river by an old, childless woman who
was washing clothes there. The woman and her husband discovered the
child when they tried to open the peach to eat it. The child explained
that he had been sent by Heaven to be their son. The couple named him Momotarō, from <i>momo</i> (peach) and <i>tarō</i> (eldest son in the family).<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-Ozaki_1-0"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Momotar%C5%8D#cite_note-Ozaki-1">[1]</a></sup><br />
<br />
Years later, Momotarō left his parents to fight a band of marauding <a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oni_%28Japanese_folklore%29" title="Oni (Japanese folklore)">oni</a> (demons or ogres) on a distant island. En route, Momotarō met and befriended a talking dog, monkey, and pheasant, who agreed to help him in his quest. At the island, Momotarō and his animal friends penetrated the demons' fort
and beat the band of demons into surrendering. Momotarō and his new
friends returned home with the demons' plundered treasure and the demon
chief as a captive. Momotarō and his family lived comfortably from then
on.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-Ozaki_1-1"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Momotar%C5%8D#cite_note-Ozaki-1">[1]</a></sup></blockquote>
The whole story is in <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Japanese_Fairy_Book/Momotaro,_or_the_Story_of_the_Son_of_a_Peach"><i>The Japanese Fairy Book</i> (1908)</a>, written by Iwaya Sazanami, illustrated by Kakuzo Fujiyama, and translated by Yei Theodora Ozaki. It's not very long.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/df/Japanese_Fairy_Book_-_Ozaki_-_247.png/450px-Japanese_Fairy_Book_-_Ozaki_-_247.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="382" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/df/Japanese_Fairy_Book_-_Ozaki_-_247.png/450px-Japanese_Fairy_Book_-_Ozaki_-_247.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Momotaro emerging from the giant peach (illustration from <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Japanese_Fairy_Book/Momotaro,_or_the_Story_of_the_Son_of_a_Peach">The Japanese Fairy Book</a>).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yei_Theodora_Ozaki">Wikipedia</a> gives a little bit of information on Yei Theodora Ozaki's life, but it's all from an introduction to one of her books:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Yei Theodora Ozaki</b> <span style="font-weight: normal;">(<span class="t_nihongo_kanji" lang="ja">英子セオドラ尾崎</span> <i>Eiko Seodora Ozaki</i><sup class="t_nihongo_help noprint"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Help:Installing_Japanese_character_sets" title="Help:Installing Japanese character sets"><span class="t_nihongo_icon" style="color: #0000ee; font: bold 80% sans-serif; padding: 0 .1em; text-decoration: none;">?</span></a></sup>, 1871 – December 28, 1932)</span> was an early 20th-century translator of Japanese short stories and fairy tales. Her translations were fairly liberal but have been popular, and were reprinted several times after her death.<br />
<br />
According to "A Biographical Sketch" by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Crawford_Fraser" title="Mary Crawford Fraser">Mrs. Hugh Fraser</a>, included in the introductory material to <i>Warriors of old Japan, and other stories</i>,
Ozaki came from an unusual background. She was the daughter of Baron
Ozaki, one of the first Japanese men to study in the West, and Bathia
Catherine Morrison, daughter of William Morrison, one of their teachers.
Her parents separated after five years of marriage, and her mother
retained custody of their three daughters until they became teenagers.
At that time, Yei was sent to live in Japan with her father, which she
enjoyed. Later she refused an arranged marriage, left her father's
house, and became a teacher and secretary to earn money. Over the years,
she traveled back and forth between Japan and Europe, as her employment
and family duties took her, and lived in places as diverse as Italy and
the drafty upper floor of a Buddhist temple.<br />
<br />
All this time, her letters were frequently misdelivered to the unrelated Japanese politician <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yukio_Ozaki" title="Yukio Ozaki">Yukio Ozaki</a>, and his to her. In 1904, they finally met, and soon married.</blockquote>
<a href="http://www.cabinetdesfees.com/2011/east-meets-west-yei-theodora-ozaki%E2%80%99s-japanese-fairy-tales/">Cabinet des Fées</a> has a very thorough article about Ms. Ozaki's life and environment and their influence on her work. It mentions Ms. Ozaki's desire to change contemporary Western ideas of Japanese culture, and particularly of Japanese women as oppressed and passive: <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Ms Ozaki’s biographer Mrs Fraser tells us that one of O-Yei’s
motivations for writing was to dispel misconceptions of Japan that she
found in the West, and to show the “good old ideals and sentiments”[6]
of Japanese culture portrayed in the old stories. We are told that one
of O-Yei’s particular concerns was the perception of Japanese women in
the West. She wanted to put an end to the notion of the Japanese woman
as an oppressed, passive Madame Butterfly figure. Mrs Fraser records her
as saying: “When I was last in England and Europe… very mistaken
notions about Japan and especially about its women existed generally. I
determined if possible to write so as to dispel these wrong
conceptions.”[7] In this way, she was very much a woman of her time. The
Meiji Period (1868-1912) was a time of great social and political
change in Japan, as the country was keen to show itself as equal to the
Western powers. Women led the way in this as much as men; and O-Yei
herself belonged to several educational, charitable and patriotic
ladies’ societies. At the same time, things were changing for women in
England too. The suffragettes were to riot in 1911 and the Women’s
Institute was to be founded in 1915. As a well-connected, bi-cultural
woman, Yei Theodora Ozaki stood in a good position to address these
contemporary issues, at the same time as she looked back to the past for
inspiration. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
(Elizabeth Hopkinson, '<span class="post-format-icon"></span><a href="http://www.cabinetdesfees.com/2011/east-meets-west-yei-theodora-ozaki%E2%80%99s-japanese-fairy-tales/">East Meets West: Yei Theodora Ozaki’s </a><i><a href="http://www.cabinetdesfees.com/2011/east-meets-west-yei-theodora-ozaki%E2%80%99s-japanese-fairy-tales/">Japanese Fairy Tales,'</a> </i>May 2011)<i><br /></i></blockquote>
<br />
Ozaki's<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yei_Theodora_Ozaki"> Wikipedia page</a> has links to online copies of her books; they're in the public domain.<br />
<br />
I couldn't find a whole lot of information on Japanese yellow peaches in English, but the Wall Street Journal has an article on Chinese water honey peaches, which are related:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Thai bananas are long-lived compared with China's honey peaches.
Picked in the morning, the peaches are flown to Beijing or trucked to
Shanghai in the afternoon; in many cases, they are selling in stores the
same evening. On a recent Saturday afternoon in Yangshan's wholesale
peach market, I asked a grower to find me a carton of peaches that I
could take home with me to Bangkok on Monday. No peach in the market
would last that long, he replied; I'd have to go with him to his orchard
so he could pick me hard, green ones. He warned me that I'd be
sacrificing some taste because they would be picked too early. By
Tuesday, the green peaches I ended up taking home with me were so soft
that I had to put them all in the refrigerator. They were still
delicious.<br />
<br />
Tang Haijun, a big honey peach grower and an industry
spokesman, says another problem with Chinese peaches is that they are
extraordinarily fragile. "They're so tender, if you press on one, in an
hour there will be a black spot," he says. Over a lunch of local
specialties (snails, pigs feet, pumpkin stems, his peaches for dessert),
Mr. Tang explained that to keep away insects, he has every peach in his
orchard individually wrapped with newspaper while it is ripening on the
tree. All this special handling comes at a price: A honey peach sells
for as much as $3 in a Shanghai or Beijing grocery store.<br />
<br />
In the
U.S., peach technology produces a very different product. "It's
unfortunate that many of our peaches are bred to have superior shelf
life and exterior color," says Karen Caplan, chief executive of Frieda's
Inc., a Los Alamitos, Calif., high-end distributor of imported and
domestic produce. "The growers don't focus on flavor. They refrigerate
them in transit, put them on the shelf, and they go mealy." [...]<br />
<br />
The best bet, then, is to eat honey peaches in China, and that's what
I did with wild abandon, consuming 10 peaches, averaging half a pound
each, in a single day in Yangshan. Under the tutelage of Mr. Tang, I
learned that Chinese peach-eating is a very different process. First,
you should gently massage the peach for several minutes, releasing the
juice. When it starts feeling like a sponge, it's ready to be peeled;
the skin slips off like a glove. Then you just pick it up whole and
slurp away; cutting it would result in waste of the delicious juice. (<a href="http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB10001424052970203946904574300192082040918">The Best Peach on Earth, August 21, 2009</a>) </blockquote>
There is a bit more information on Japanese and Chinese (and other) peach cultivars and breeding programs in <a href="https://books.google.ca/books?id=xLW3mKQbcUUC&pg=PA169&lpg=PA169&dq=japan+yellow+peach&source=bl&ots=_xDAmwMdrQ&sig=twfCSniO1sQL1FxIorjr__JJVjI&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0CEsQ6AEwCmoVChMIworSiZuRyAIVhCmICh1LEA7_#v=onepage&q=japan%20yellow%20peach&f=false">The Peach: Botany, Production, and Uses</a>
(Layne and Bassi, 2008, pg 168-9). The ebook is over two hundred
dollars, so hopefully nobody wants to read the redacted sections very
badly.<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-52457566924429093452015-09-03T03:12:00.000-07:002015-09-03T03:12:19.876-07:00On Aylan Kurdi's Death<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I don’t know if publishing the photos of three year old Aylan Kurdi’s body washed up on the beach was necessary or not. It may have been necessary to move the Harper government to let more Syrian refugees into Canada (which hasn’t happened yet, but it looks likely, since Kurdi’s family was refused entry to Canada in June. Our culpability here is obvious), but I don’t know if it was necessary in Europe. The tide of public opinion was already shifting there. #refugeesarewelcome was trending on Twitter, and Angela Merkel was all over the news and frequently being praised and supported. I think reports of more refugees dying, after the many this week, and especially children found dead on the beach, may have been enough to sway political opinion there. There's no way to know.<br /><br />But it doesn’t matter now, the images have already been released and gone viral. I’m not sure there’s any point in second-guessing that in retrospect, or if the question of whether it was necessary is even the point here.<br /><br />What I do know is that the people who are the farthest from Syria and those least affected by this issue share those images the most freely and the most lightly, and are least aware of the human costs to doing so. White non-Muslims especially, but Muslims in the West are sharing them a lot too, and the Muslim community has this contentious discussion about whether it should be done every time something like this happens.<br /><br />If Aylan Kurdi was a white Western child, the image of his corpse would not be plastered all over the newspapers and tweeted and shared by millions on Facebook. It wouldn’t be ethical or even imaginable to do so. If he was a white child, it would not have been necessary to share that very personal evidence of the tragedy to make anyone sympathise with or help his family and others like them. And now everyone scrolls past the image of his corpse countless times a day. It’s dehumanising, in more ways than one, and it doesn’t help people not to dehumanise Kurds or Syrians or Muslim refugees. This shouldn’t have to keep happening. Haven’t enough people died?<br /><br />People in the West are already very used to seeing images of foreign brown and non-Christian dead, and desensitized to it. There was a lot of very heated debate over whether the picture of Alison Parker (one of the Virginia news anchors who was murdered last week) with the gun being pointed at her, much less her death, should have been shown. Because it was disrespectful of her and her family, and sensationalist, and giving her killer the publicity he wanted, and unnecessary. But not nearly so much so for Kurdish or other Syrian refugees, or Rohingya, or black Africans, or non-white victims of ISIS. It’s much more acceptable and normalised then, for obvious reasons.<br /><br />Kurds and Syrians and other Arabs, especially nations people are fleeing, or even just Muslims, are going to have to see those images of Aylan hundreds of times in the next days. It’s easier to see Aylan as your child and his death as your tragedy when you are part of one of those groups. He’s not just another foreign body in a faraway place you know little about and feel little for. Seeing the image of him dead is painful, and brings home how much you are dehumanised and how little the rest of the world cares about or would even notice your death and remember you as a person and not just another mangled corpse in the news. <br /><br />Many of Aylan’s family are still alive. His five year old brother Ghalib and mother Rehan and at least eight other refugees died in the same boat today, but his father Abdullah survived. The family told the National Post today that “[Abdullah’s] only wish now is to return to Kobane with his dead wife and children, bury them, and be buried alongside them.” They are going to have to live with all this publicity. And hope it actually helps. <br /><br />It’s often a lot less clear to people directly affected by this that sharing those images was the appropriate or humane thing to do. It’s certainly much harder to watch happen, and the cost is a lot clearer. Many of us were already grieving.<br /><br />Rest in peace Aylan and Ghalib and Rihan Kurdi, and everyone else who has died. There are too many to name or to count accurately. To Allah we belong, and to him we are returning. I hope this isn’t necessary next time. I hope people realise the cost and the inhumanity of it.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-68201034634603343222015-09-01T21:27:00.000-07:002015-10-05T23:22:25.819-07:00Torrential rain; hay bale theft; deer teeth dentures<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The Canadian news continues to be really odd. I have no idea if this is normal, since I didn't pay attention to it for nearly a decade, and before that I just read one local newspaper. That was before I had internet, so I didn't see anywhere near as much news. A lot of the Canadian news is boring or sad, but some of it is just plain weird. <br />
<br />
There was a really unusual windstorm (for August) in southern BC, centred on Vancouver and starting on Saturday afternoon. We just caught the edge of it, but there were high winds, trees whipping, rain and hail pelting down, constant power flickering. It hadn't rained in months, so the ground was really dry and couldn't absorb all that water. <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/b-c-storm-man-escapes-car-after-tree-falls-on-it-while-he-s-driving-1.3208911">The trees are brittle from drought </a>and covered in leaves which make them act like sails, so there are a lot of downed trees, causing power outages, blocking streets, and damaging vehicles and houses.<br />
<br />
It wasn't a big problem here, but there was flooding elsewhere, and 710,000 people in Vancouver were without power for at least a day. Some of them are still without power, three days later. It's not that cold, but they haven't been able to cook, or flush the toilet, or possibly run water at all for three days. <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/b-c-storm-hydro-1.3210919">BC Hydro is saying</a> that it's the single largest power outage event in their history.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3210968.1441122808!/cpImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/original_300/storm-bc-20150830.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3210968.1441122808!/cpImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/original_300/storm-bc-20150830.jpg" height="254" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hundreds of trees were uprooted during Saturday's windstorm, including
this one that lifted a Vancouver sidewalk. <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/b-c-storm-hydro-1.3210919">(Darryl Dyck/Canadian Press)</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.cbc.ca/gfx/topvideo/2015/bc-storm-thumbnail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.cbc.ca/gfx/topvideo/2015/bc-storm-thumbnail.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
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Lots of people were posting pics of the damage on Twitter. <br />
<br />
One woman in Vancouver <a href="http://www.theweathernetwork.com/news/articles/heavy-rain-ahead-for-vancouver-brings-risk-of-flash-floods/56390/">was hit by a tree</a> while out walking with her daughter and is in hospital with life-threatening injuries.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
At least two people were killed in Washington State. One man was
driving when a tree came crashing down on top of his car. A 10-year-old
girl was playing outside at a friend's house when she was struck and
killed by a fallen tree branch.<br />
<br />
Vancouver's Stanley Park was
closed to the public. The east side of the park has since been reopened
as crews work to clear the remaining trees and debris caused by the
storm.<br />
<br />
A number of ferry crossings were cancelled or delayed due
to rough seas, and the Vancouver SkyTrain was temporarily delayed after a
tree fell across the tracks, smashing the front of an oncoming train. <a href="http://www.theweathernetwork.com/news/articles/heavy-rain-ahead-for-vancouver-brings-risk-of-flash-floods/56390/">(Weather Network)</a></blockquote>
<br />
<a href="http://www.theweathernetwork.com/news/articles/heavy-rain-ahead-for-vancouver-brings-risk-of-flash-floods/56390/">We got more rain in four days </a>than we have the whole summer and the winds were up to 90km/hr. While it's slowed down, it's still raining and it's expected to keep raining. I'm used to it raining only once or twice a year in January, so this much rain and wind and cold weather in August and early September is pretty strange to me. It was just starting to be warm for a little while, and now it's winter again. Thanks, Canada.<br />
<br />
The hay bale theft and deer teeth dentures stories are under the cut.<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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Similar to the trend of beehive rustling (<a href="http://pomegranatebitter.blogspot.ca/2015/08/some-odd-canadian-news-mostly-beehive.html">which I wrote about a few days ago</a>), I read a report of hay bale theft yesterday. 100 bales of hay were stolen from a field near Kelowna during the day, likely motivated by rising hay prices.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
A B.C. farmer was shocked to discover thieves took 100 bales of hay from her farm near Kelowna, B.C., last week. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"It'd definitely be a two-person job," said Sheila Sutton, who lost
approximately one-third of her crop at her Ellison farm in what she
called a "quite bold and really disheartening" heist. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The hay was baled around 12:30 p.m. and was stolen some time before 4 p.m., said Sutton. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"It was laying on the field just how it would've been baled by the
baler so that when people come around, you just drive in big circles and
start throwing it in the back of your truck." </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Sutton said most of her neighbours were working at that time, and none saw anything unusual. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Nobody really thinks twice about people being out in the field,
throwing hay in the back of their truck, because it's not something you
hear of being stolen very often. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"There's the feeling that there's going to be quite a shortage now,
just due to the amount of people who lost all their hay in Rock Creek,"
Sutton said. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Kevin Boone, general manager with the B.C. Cattlemen's Association,
said the price of hay has doubled over the past year to somewhere
between $180 and $225 per tonne. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"When that price goes up and there is a scarcity, it opens the door and the vulnerability of that producer in their product."<a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/hay-prices-soar-fuel-brazen-theft-1.3209813">(CBC August 31 2015)</a></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3209858.1441037114!/fileImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/16x9_620/hay-heist-stolen-bales.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3209858.1441037114!/fileImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/16x9_620/hay-heist-stolen-bales.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thieves stole 100 bales of hay from a field in Ellison, just outside of Kelowna. <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/hay-prices-soar-fuel-brazen-theft-1.3209813">(Getty Images)</a></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
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#<br />
<br />
There was an eccentric hunter and amateur inventor in the Interior of BC in the fifties who made his own dentures out of deer teeth and wood, and apparently wore them.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3211936.1441144112!/fileImage/httpImage/image.png_gen/derivatives/16x9_620/francis-wharton.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3211936.1441144112!/fileImage/httpImage/image.png_gen/derivatives/16x9_620/francis-wharton.png" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Francis Wharton smiles in this photo from the Kamloops Sentinel. Yes,
those are the deer teeth dentures he's wearing. <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/francis-wharton-killed-deer-dentures-teeth-1.3211739">(Museum of Health Care)</a></td></tr>
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He was reportedly quite proud of his ingenuity:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Francis Wharton was far from civilization when he found himself needing a pair of dentures. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Never at a loss, Wharton, a resourceful hunter and inventor, who
lived near Little Fort B.C. in the 1950s and 60s, shot a deer and used
its teeth to make dentures for himself. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Then turned around and ate the deer ... with its own teeth. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"He made a nice little set of teeth for a full upper denture,"
said Kathy Karkut, collections manager at the Museum of Health Care in
Kingston, which now has Wharton's teeth on display. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I think he was just an unusual man. He was quite proud of his
ingenuity, and he didn't need to go pay for dentures like everybody
else." </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Wharton's teeth were made of filed down deer's teeth, put into a base of plastic wood and held into place with household cement. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
A contemporary magazine article about him reported he used the teeth
for at least three years, despite Karkut describing them as "loose" and
"dark and dirty." <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/francis-wharton-killed-deer-dentures-teeth-1.3211739">(CBC September 1 2015)</a></blockquote>
The Museum of Health still has his deer teeth dentures and provided a picture of them:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3211981.1441144617!/fileImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/original_220/teeth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3211981.1441144617!/fileImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/original_220/teeth.jpg" height="146" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Francis Wharton's dentures, made from filed-down deer's teeth and
plastic wood. They were held in with household cement. <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/francis-wharton-killed-deer-dentures-teeth-1.3211739">(Museum of Health Care)</a></td></tr>
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I don't know how he managed to wear them, because it shouldn't have been <b>remotely </b>possible for him to get them to fit. Fitting even professional dentures is a long and frequently painful process that takes months of adjusting.<br />
<br />
And household cement doesn't seem like something you should be putting in your mouth. Or like it would come off easily, if you could get it to stick.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://elmers.com/images/default-source/product-catalog-images/e1001-jpg.tmb-thumb230.jpg?Status=Master&sfvrsn=7" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://elmers.com/images/default-source/product-catalog-images/e1001-jpg.tmb-thumb230.jpg?Status=Master&sfvrsn=7" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://elmers.com/product/detail/e1001">Elmer's household cement. Will bond most household items together, tough and rubbery when dry.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Another question: who pulled the remains of his teeth out? He doesn't seem like the type to go to a dentist, and it's unlikely that they just fell out. Did he pull them out himself, or get a buddy to do it?<br />
<br />
He was quite a character and had a reputation for eccentricity. He also had a vendetta against bears:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Wharton, nicknamed "The Backwoods Wizard," was a fairly well-known eccentric in the Interior in those days.<br />
<br />
According to a 1960 issue of <i>Guns</i> magazine, Wharton survived a bear attack by scaring the animal off with a shot from his .22-calibre rifle.<br />
<br />
The bear still managed to swipe at him with its claws. The experience
inspired him to design his own guns and bullets that were massive,
handheld cannons to fight off any angry animals he came across.<br />
<br />
And fight them off, he did. <i>Guns</i> reported that Wharton, in
one case, killed eight bears in "revenge" after one killed his pet ram
and, in a bizarre role reversal, ate the bear meat with his deer teeth. <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/francis-wharton-killed-deer-dentures-teeth-1.3211739">(CBC)</a></blockquote>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-4483505109773215512015-08-28T20:48:00.000-07:002015-10-05T23:23:13.103-07:00Some odd Canadian news: mostly beehive theft<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/calgary/bee-theft-in-alberta-has-farmer-offering-1-000-reward-1.3205794">Friday August 28, 2015</a>: Twelve full beehives were stolen from a field in Innisfail, Alberta. That was a loss of about 600,000 bees, and honey, and hives, totalling about $10,000. The beekeeper, Kevin Nixon, is offering a $1000 reward for information that helps find them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3208051.1440798696!/fileImage/httpImage/image.JPG_gen/derivatives/16x9_620/nixon-honey-farm-theft.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3208051.1440798696!/fileImage/httpImage/image.JPG_gen/derivatives/16x9_620/nixon-honey-farm-theft.JPG" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Nixon honey farm on Wednesday. You can see the stands where the hives are missing <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/calgary/bee-theft-in-alberta-has-farmer-offering-1-000-reward-1.3205794">(CBC)</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I can think of two possibilities here:<br />
<br />
1. Someone wanted to start a beekeeping operation, for free, with very heavy hives carried from the field and loaded into a truck by hand, while full of agitated bees. That doesn't seem like a very good plan, aside from the loss it cost Nixon.<br />
<br />
2. Activists have "liberated" domestic honeybees. Not a good plan either.<br />
<br />
While I was reading about this, I found a bunch of other cases of honeybee theft, and I wasn't even looking for them. Beehive theft has been a growing problem for a number of years (more under the cut).<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
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- <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/edmonton/millions-of-bees-stolen-from-alberta-honey-producer-1.1166208">Grande Prairie, Alberta, July 2012.</a> 150 hives were taken over several weeks, for a loss of about $60,000 which was not covered by insurance. Bill Termeer suspected somebody else in the industry stole them. The province's chief beekeeper said that bee thefts were rare, but expected to increase as new diseases and parasites killed bees and people looked for ways to replace them.<br />
<br />
- <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/hives-containing-500-000-bees-stolen-in-b-c-1.1290800">Abbotsford, BC, July 2012</a>. 100 hive frames with half a million bees and about 3,600 kg of honey were stolen, for a loss of $100,000. Bee theft rare but large scale thefts reported that year in Alberta and New Zealand. The president of the Surrey Honeybee Centre said that the theft would be complicated and you would have to be a semi-experienced beekeeper to pull it off. He speculates that the culprit is likely a small-time contract pollinator,
who would rent bees to farmers to help pollinate their crops. Because of the falling bee populations, they would need more bees to fulfill their obligations to farmers.<br />
<br />
- <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/5-beehives-stolen-from-coldstream-beekeeper-1.2714469">Coldstream, BC, July 2014</a>. Five hives are stolen, each weighing between 50 and 150 kg, for a loss of $10,000. Thieves would have had to have knowledge of the industry. There were several beehive thefts from the Vernon area the previous year. Honey is valuable and hard to trace, and the hives are full in late summer.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/thieves-abandon-beehive-theft-after-5810466">June 2015, Staffordshire, England.</a> A farmer finds a beehive off its stand and carried to another field. He suspects that when someone tried to steal it, the bees must have come out and defended themselves. It's a foolhardy thing to do, especially if you're not very experienced.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/thieves-abandon-beehive-theft-after-5810466">Chicago, May 2015.</a> Three beehives are stolen from a city park. The supervisor of the Illinois Department of Agriculture’s Division of Natural Resources says he hasn't heard of any other cases in Illinois, but it's common in states such as California, where there is a high demand for bees to pollinate almond trees and other crops. And honey prices are high due to falling bee populations.<br />
<br />
“It’s like cattle rustlers, people who know about bees that steal them
are like bee rustlers,” [American Beekeeping Federation vice president Gene] Brandi said. “Generally, bee thieves are people
who know about bees and know how to handle bees.”<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.express.co.uk/news/uk/482768/Beekeepers-urged-to-microchip-bees-after-rise-in-hives-being-stolen">Date unknown.</a> The British Beekeepers Association is urging beekeepers to get
their hives micro-chipped so police can identify them if they are
stolen. The proportion of hives stolen is small, but it does happen. "Only beekeepers are likely to have the contacts to sell on colonies of
bees as these are not easily sold as one-offs to other than beekeepers."<br />
<br />
<a href="http://modernfarmer.com/2014/10/crime-fighting-beekeepers-catch-rustlers-educate-law-enforcement/">Modern Farmer, October 2014.</a> Since <a href="http://www.ars.usda.gov/News/docs.htm?docid=15572" target="_blank">Colony Collapse Disorder</a> began
decimating hives by the thousands across the United States in 2006, the
incentive to steal bees is greater. As rural law enforcement and the
courts struggle to keep up, commercial beekeepers are stepping in to
catch the bee rustlers.<br />
<br />
The problem of bee theft is relatively minor and low-priority for law enforcement, and beehives can't be impounded or kept as evidence. It’s hard for cash-strapped rural county law enforcement to contact
witnesses for interviews and pay for their accommodations should a case
actually come to trial.<br />
<br />
There was one major case in California where Viktor Zhdamirov was arrested for stealing hundreds of hives from a field where they had been placed to provide pollination. More than two years went by before Zhdamirov was put on trial, for what was eventually valued as a $65,000 bee robbery.<br />
Yolo County did convict Zhdamirov and he received a
three-year sentence in the county jail and restitution payments of
$65,000.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Joe Romance, a commercial beekeeper based out of the vast almond growing
acreage surrounding Bakersfield, also organized his own effort to
recover 180 stolen bee boxes in January this year. Not too long after
his hives went missing, a stranger showed up in town with an odd
proposition.<br />
<br />
It was apparent to the local beekeeping community that something
fishy was up when a “new person who said they were local,” Romance says,
“approached a bee broker saying they were looking to rent out bees.
Except nobody knew who this guy was.”<br />
<br />
So Romance and his beekeeping friends set up a sting.<br />
<br />
One of Romance’s beekeeper friends posed as an almond grower looking
to rent bees and called the new beekeeper. He offered very top dollar to
rent the “local’s” hives, $250 apiece, just so he’d be allowed to view
the hives. As soon as Romance’s undercover beekeeper friend saw men
inside the “local’s” razor wire-enclosed bee yard, grinding beekeeper
brands off of hive boxes, he called Romance. Since the bee rustlers were
currently engaged in illicit activity, Romance called the Bakersfield
sheriff.<br />
<br />
Sheriff’s deputies were delayed by several “shots fired” calls. When
deputies arrived after a few hours, Romance and the undercover beekeeper
entered the illegal bee yard with them. Romance recognized some of his
own hives. He informed deputies. They interrogated two men working in
the illegal bee yard and arrested one of them. They had to let the other
go.<br />
<br />
“He convinced them he really didn’t know what was going on with the
bees or their hives or where they had come from,” says Romance. The man
arrested quickly made bail and disappeared. At least Romance says, he
was able to recover his hives.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
[...] With increasing awareness on the part of law enforcement of the
importance of bees to California’s economy and the willingness of
beekeepers like Romance to educate them, perhaps bee rustlers will find
their crimes less profitable in the future. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<a href="http://modernfarmer.com/2014/10/crime-fighting-beekeepers-catch-rustlers-educate-law-enforcement/"> (Modern Farmer).</a></blockquote>
<a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/trending/narrowest-house-in-toronto-hits-market-at-750-000-1.3208214">August 28, 2015.</a> Perhaps the narrowest detached house in Toronto, at eight feet wide, is up for sale for $750,000. Which is very low for a detached house in Toronto, but then, it's eight feet wide and has two bedrooms and three bathrooms and no parking space and is 1,000 square feet. It was built in 1890 with only one story, and then more floors were added later. It does have a garden which is just as narrow, surrounded by a wooden fence. There have been a lot of inquiries already, because of the novelty factor.<br />
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<a href="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3208238.1440808284!/fileImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/original_620/back-garden-nail-house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://i.cbc.ca/1.3208238.1440808284!/fileImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/original_620/back-garden-nail-house.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/victoria-s-gorge-waterway-needs-cleanup-after-barge-full-of-scrap-cars-tips-1.3208163">Friday August 28 1015</a>: On the Gorge waterway in Victoria, BC, a crane that was loading scrap cars onto a barge apparently tipped and dumped 50-100 crushed cars into the water. No one was injured, but that's going to be a pain to clean up.<br />
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<a href="http://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/polopoly_fs/1.2538424.1440801950!/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/landscape_960/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/polopoly_fs/1.2538424.1440801950!/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/landscape_960/image.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
<a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/harperman-tony-turner-scientist-investigation-1.3207390"> CBC August 28, 2015.</a><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
A scientist with Environment Canada has been put on administrative leave with pay pending an investigation for creating a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ei50lM6ab1c">politically charged protest song</a> about ousting Conservative Leader Stephen Harper.<br />
<br />
Tony Turner, a physical scientist at Environment Canada and longtime
singer-songwriter in Ottawa's folk music scene, wrote the controversial
tune <i>Harperman</i>. Turner was sent home in mid-August, according
to his union, over concerns that his song breached Environment Canada's
value and ethics code.<br />
<br />
The song touches on the Duffy trial, <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/beverley-mclachlin-says-she-s-moved-on-from-spat-with-harper-mackay-1.2736594">Harper's spat with Chief Justice Beverley McLachlin</a> and includes
highly political lyrics like "Who muzzles the poor
scientist?" and "Won't buy into climate change until it's sold on
the stock exchange." Its chorus ends with the blunt line "Harperman,
it's time for you to go."<br />
<br />
Turner has been a public servant for nearly 20 years and was planning
to retire in roughly one month. He was working on a project involving
migratory birds.<br />
<br />
Debi Daviau, president of the Professional Institute of the Public
Service of Canada (PIPSC), confirmed to CBC News that Turner is
under investigation. PIPSC is the union which represents federal
scientists.<br />
<br />
"[Environment Canada] is alleging … [Turner] has violated the
departmental code of values and ethics in that the writing and
performing of this song somehow impeded his ability to impartially study
migratory birds," she said.<br />
<br />
"There doesn't seem to be a lot of formal grounds to base this
in and certainly the courts have been loud and clear on the matter of
how public servants can legitimately participate in a federal
election."<br />
A spokesperson for Environment Canada wouldn't comment on the case,
citing privacy, but said public servants are expected to comply with the
values and ethics code, regardless of their job.<br />
<br />
Turner told CBC News he is not speaking to media while the investigation is ongoing. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
A video for the song was recorded in June and posted on YouTube, where
it has racked up more than 50,000 views. The video includes more than
40 different singers who belt out the chorus. They're fronted by Turner
on guitar. [...]</blockquote>
<br />
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ei50lM6ab1c" width="560"></iframe>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-29717205985928250732015-08-12T23:32:00.001-07:002015-11-27T14:05:14.992-08:00Fields<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was bored this evening, so I went out into the fields and took photos with my phone. I spent so much time walking and playing in these fields and in the woods as a child and a teenager, but they are suddenly become small. The hut that I built and used to live in is gone now; even that corner of the field where it was is gone, taken over by alder trees and blackberry brambles. I found the rusted woodstove on its side in a patch of thistles, and a wooden bench nearly a foot thick, and some mint I planted still growing along the fence. That's all that's left.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXL3QYzq7Cja54c_S26BWCmqgiX9KVS-wFUcnEaDhlgMki9fUMy4lAgFqCOiw6p3vf8EcEb2g0hli0TjKgxirc4cYJt9j8npCkP3fcNYUz8IrEb_D6m99Xq5rT6Gx8y5PWaGOEbuvKWg6N/s1600/fields+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXL3QYzq7Cja54c_S26BWCmqgiX9KVS-wFUcnEaDhlgMki9fUMy4lAgFqCOiw6p3vf8EcEb2g0hli0TjKgxirc4cYJt9j8npCkP3fcNYUz8IrEb_D6m99Xq5rT6Gx8y5PWaGOEbuvKWg6N/s320/fields+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Those are reed seedheads in the foreground, and behind them silky white thistledown starting to blow away, and cedar trees in the background. The fields are boggy most of the year, hence the reeds. It's no good for keeping horses in, because the lush grass and the wet causes them to founder. Foundering is really awful; it's laminitis, an inflammation of the tissue that attaches the hoof to the bone inside the horses foot. It's pretty gruesome if it's not stopped and can kill the horse in severe cases; you can google it if you want the details. I ended up selling our pony to a horse rescue for a dollar quite a few years ago, because he was foundering, but there was nowhere to put him that wasn't grassy and I couldn't pay for a vet.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpKQ0dHBWwTIRcwKsyxUzcoYKzpmuEZOMCgDsehc0bE4RXOcqdlafRwNWoZixbwzAVYGo0caN7fZz5s5TDqUlSpAHZT9X7rzrTvt4miOW31aZ8MNx7jVr7JIo_M31ltXKWPrgec4DKCEr/s1600/fields+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpKQ0dHBWwTIRcwKsyxUzcoYKzpmuEZOMCgDsehc0bE4RXOcqdlafRwNWoZixbwzAVYGo0caN7fZz5s5TDqUlSpAHZT9X7rzrTvt4miOW31aZ8MNx7jVr7JIo_M31ltXKWPrgec4DKCEr/s320/fields+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Another view of the same field. Those are alder trees on the left. There's a creek in there. It used to be big, my mom and her sibling used to swim in it. By the time I was a child, it was smaller, but there were still fish in it and you could still fall in and get totally soaked. Now it's only a trickle, hardly even a stream. So many tributaries have been covered over or diverted by the new subdivisions that there isn't much water in it anymore, and no fish or tadpoles.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaArn5LUTvl5eUUjafQQC0IUpngP13Q8zuR2ywbZ0HPhKimJeNNoCAsO6ban6MkqLujpUE13mkj9Conn4tfBXV_lfw8wvzkY2ABO0AoXmoPftdNDDnJ50m7Eyv4_SYDfx18ttzNR1GcNY6/s1600/fields+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaArn5LUTvl5eUUjafQQC0IUpngP13Q8zuR2ywbZ0HPhKimJeNNoCAsO6ban6MkqLujpUE13mkj9Conn4tfBXV_lfw8wvzkY2ABO0AoXmoPftdNDDnJ50m7Eyv4_SYDfx18ttzNR1GcNY6/s320/fields+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cirsium_arvense">Canada thistle</a> (<i>Cirsium arvense</i>) going to seed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="http://bcinvasives.ca/invasive-species/identify/invasive-species/invasive-plants/canada-thistle/">Canada thistle is an invasive weed</a> commonly found along roadsides and in cultivated fields; it spreads laterally by root to form huge patches, and by seed. Its common name in the US and Canada is misleading, because it's native to Europe and northern Asia. It's widely considered an injurious weed even where it's native, but the seeds are an important source of food to European Goldfinch, Linnet, and other finches; the leaves are food for over 20 species of butterfly and moth caterpillars, including the Painted Lady; and lots of insects visit the flowers.<br />
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<div id="stcpDiv" style="left: -1988px; position: absolute; top: -1999px;">
Canada thistle <i>(Cirsium arvense)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FeZ_26ZLzcrjzwcuyGY_ddAq1WUeaZ4lS13nwGtqiPhuDlfcqOJCIJXGJc10MxnLFVC70N0auQMcyR0BREiCX3qV0oA02mVVNBXpXCvjOWpAMJ0Afai9XMPYd07MHtsy7jtSSrP5EOcY/s1600/fields+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FeZ_26ZLzcrjzwcuyGY_ddAq1WUeaZ4lS13nwGtqiPhuDlfcqOJCIJXGJc10MxnLFVC70N0auQMcyR0BREiCX3qV0oA02mVVNBXpXCvjOWpAMJ0Afai9XMPYd07MHtsy7jtSSrP5EOcY/s320/fields+4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
These alders by the creek are the biggest alders I've ever seen. The fields were probably cleared by logging at some point in the late nineteenth century, but there are young alder trees springing up in the middle and they'll going to go back to forest given time. But the farm will be sold and subdivided before that can happen, so nobody is bothering to pull them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_ap-SV9B0W-2ZF7q6YZCEyEhMA-6tv0Cr1GlNwIOu2cRe-b3otgmEwTO_OP9yMrbVWjHhYf5PPTXuGumNlDrSivL93qUDVlRo5SAVTApVLTXxDx8K5Y1qzQ4K8BC-V0H4Lm2InIUb1ju/s1600/fields+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_ap-SV9B0W-2ZF7q6YZCEyEhMA-6tv0Cr1GlNwIOu2cRe-b3otgmEwTO_OP9yMrbVWjHhYf5PPTXuGumNlDrSivL93qUDVlRo5SAVTApVLTXxDx8K5Y1qzQ4K8BC-V0H4Lm2InIUb1ju/s320/fields+5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grass seedheads behind the barn.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8DQZnGQLB8mwx5PyFE7_amYXhTGtDfgBtTJovS_DbcC0rXlSPpT_yXK1gJ7ee8W7HqY_jnC11SJnRPsshIzxdt5YE0W1u65rRG0nEjiwBIVayZuXXl8z21EWpRj_4DSjDEmv5eLecuevW/s1600/fields+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8DQZnGQLB8mwx5PyFE7_amYXhTGtDfgBtTJovS_DbcC0rXlSPpT_yXK1gJ7ee8W7HqY_jnC11SJnRPsshIzxdt5YE0W1u65rRG0nEjiwBIVayZuXXl8z21EWpRj_4DSjDEmv5eLecuevW/s320/fields+6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The wild roses are still going, surprisingly. I knew wild roses flowered in June, but if I ever knew that they continued all summer (I must have, I spent so much time in the fields), then I forgot.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLx3lAvXcdzohT-7OlBxGmSJ6izCZ1sRcBhQ4FMFlDvYfUS8BeSpjit_5J8I5P-8aaMNxV5T37ue_Bemq0sv0RZA4GMYwx-s-riANdypXc5NmFSGBcu0554pH56aCnz86COnSPvr2-qWGT/s1600/fields+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLx3lAvXcdzohT-7OlBxGmSJ6izCZ1sRcBhQ4FMFlDvYfUS8BeSpjit_5J8I5P-8aaMNxV5T37ue_Bemq0sv0RZA4GMYwx-s-riANdypXc5NmFSGBcu0554pH56aCnz86COnSPvr2-qWGT/s320/fields+7.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
The blackberries are still doing their thing.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrIy0rLQeIxCoVs788rPz59t8MA3ucwjd5CbcvPhWMXNesHrgBia8RMS4GUZ8TnhS_7uM3L_IQElRyiEKVqsss6XrkkIfVI-SsKuiGZqNhW8jmbGawPvVMUUmfOiLcpahxb6Pw5vTgX-h/s1600/ragweed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrIy0rLQeIxCoVs788rPz59t8MA3ucwjd5CbcvPhWMXNesHrgBia8RMS4GUZ8TnhS_7uM3L_IQElRyiEKVqsss6XrkkIfVI-SsKuiGZqNhW8jmbGawPvVMUUmfOiLcpahxb6Pw5vTgX-h/s320/ragweed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Common ragwort, native to Britain. The English poet John Clare wrote a poem in praise of it in 1831:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Ragwort thou humble flower with tattered leaves</i><br />
<i>I love to see thee come and litter gold...</i><br />
<i>Thy waste of shining blossoms richly shields</i><br />
<i>The sun tanned sward in splendid hues that burn</i><br />
<i>So bright and glaring that the very light</i><br />
<i>Of the rich sunshine doth to paleness turn</i><br />
<i>And seems but very shadows in thy sight.</i></blockquote>
<br />
The alkaloids in ragwort make it somewhat toxic to livestock, although they don't usually eat it when fresh because it's bitter. It is usually removed from fields that are mown for hay, because livestock will eat dried ragwort in hay and in large quantities it causes cirrhosis of the liver, although confirmed cases of poisoning are rare.<br />
<br />
In ancient Greece and Rome a supposed aphrodisiac was made from the plant; it was called satyrion. Ragwort leaves can be used to obtain good green dye, and the flowers to make brown, orange, or yellow dye. <br />
<br />
John Clare, the poet who wrote that verse, lead an interesting and very sad life. He was born the son of illiterate farm labourers in Northamptonshire in 1793 and had very little schooling, but he is known for his poems about the country. He suffered from depression and psychosis and spent nearly thirty years in an asylum. He was mostly forgotten until being re-published in the 20th century.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
He
became an agricultural labourer while still a child; however, he
attended school in Glinton church until he was 12. In his early adult
years, Clare became a pot boy in the Blue Bell public house and fell in
love with Mary Joyce; but her father, a prosperous farmer, forbade her
to meet him. Subsequently he was a gardener at Burghley House. He
enlisted in the militia, tried camp life with Romani, and worked in
Pickworth as a lime burner in 1817. In the following year he was obliged
to accept parish relief. Malnutrition stemming from childhood may be
the main culprit behind his 5-foot stature and may have contributed to
his poor physical health in later life. [...]<br />
<br />
Clare was constantly torn between the two worlds of literary London and his often illiterate neighbours; between the need to write poetry and the need for money to feed and clothe his children. His health began to suffer, and he had bouts of severe depression, which became worse after his sixth child was born in 1830 and as his poetry sold less well. In 1832, his friends and his London patrons clubbed together to move the family to a larger cottage with a smallholding in the village of Northborough, not far from Helpston. However, he felt only more alienated.<br />
<br />
His last work, the Rural Muse (1835), was noticed favourably by Christopher North and other reviewers, but this was not enough to support his wife and seven children. Clare's mental health began to worsen. As his alcohol consumption steadily increased along with his dissatisfaction with his own identity, Clare's behaviour became more erratic. A notable instance of this behaviour was demonstrated in his interruption of a performance of The Merchant of Venice, in which Clare verbally assaulted Shylock. He was becoming a burden to [his wife] Patty and his family, and in July 1837, on the recommendation of his publishing friend, John Taylor, Clare went of his own volition (accompanied by a friend of Taylor's) to Dr Matthew Allen's private asylum High Beach near Loughton, in Epping Forest. Taylor had assured Clare that he would receive the best medical care.<br />
Clare was reported as being "full of many strange delusions". He believed himself to be a prize fighter and that he had two wives, Patty and Mary. He started to claim he was Lord Byron. Allen wrote about Clare to The Times in 1840:<br />
<br />
<i> It is most singular that ever since he came… the moment he gets pen or pencil in hand he begins to write most poetical effusions. Yet he has never been able to obtain in conversation, nor even in writing prose, the appearance of sanity for two minutes or two lines together, and yet there is no indication of insanity in any of his poetry.</i><br />
<br />
During his first few asylum years in High Beach, Essex (1837–41), Clare re-wrote famous poems and sonnets by Lord Byron. His own version of <i>Child Harold</i> became a lament for past lost love, and <i>Don Juan, A Poem</i> became an acerbic, misogynistic, sexualised rant redolent of an ageing Regency dandy. Clare also took credit for Shakespeare's plays, claiming to be the Renaissance genius himself. "I'm John Clare now," the poet claimed to a newspaper editor, "I was Byron and Shakespeare formerly."<br />
<br />
In 1841, Clare absconded from the asylum in Essex, to walk some 90 miles (140 km) home, believing that he was to meet his first love Mary Joyce; Clare was convinced that he was married to her and Martha as well, with children by both women. He did not believe her family when they told him she had died accidentally three years earlier in a house fire. He remained free, mostly at home in Northborough, for the five months following, but eventually Patty called the doctors in. Between Christmas and New Year in 1841, Clare was committed to the Northampton General Lunatic Asylum (now St Andrew's Hospital). Upon Clare's arrival at the asylum, the accompanying doctor, Fenwick Skrimshire, who had treated Clare since 1820, completed the admission papers. To the enquiry "Was the insanity preceded by any severe or long-continued mental emotion or exertion?", Dr Skrimshire entered: "After years of poetical prosing." He remained here for the rest of his life under the humane regime of Dr Thomas Octavius Prichard, who encouraged and helped him to write. Here he wrote possibly his most famous poem, I Am.<br />
<br />
He died on 20 May 1864, in his 71st year. His remains were returned to Helpston for burial in St Botolph’s churchyard. Today, children at the John Clare School, Helpston's primary, parade through the village and place their "midsummer cushions" around Clare's gravestone (which bears the inscriptions "To the Memory of John Clare The Northamptonshire Peasant Poet" and "A Poet is Born not Made") on his birthday, in honour of their most famous resident.<br />
<br />
In his time, Clare was commonly known as "the Northamptonshire Peasant Poet". His formal education was brief, his other employment and class-origins were lowly. Clare resisted the use of the increasingly standardised English grammar and orthography in his poetry and prose, alluding to political reasoning in comparing "grammar" (in a wider sense of orthography) to tyrannical government and slavery, personifying it in jocular fashion as a "bitch". He wrote in his Northamptonshire dialect, introducing local words to the literary canon such as "pooty" (snail), "lady-cow" (ladybird), "crizzle" (to crisp) and "throstle" (song thrush).<br />
<br />
In his early life he struggled to find a place for his poetry in the changing literary fashions of the day. He also felt that he did not belong with other peasants. Clare once wrote:<br />
<i><br /> "I live here among the ignorant like a lost man in fact like one whom the rest seemes careless of having anything to do with—they hardly dare talk in my company for fear I should mention them in my writings and I find more pleasure in wandering the fields than in musing among my silent neighbours who are insensible to everything but toiling and talking of it and that to no purpose."</i><br />
<br />
It is common to see an absence of punctuation in many of Clare's original writings, although many publishers felt the need to remedy this practice in the majority of his work. Clare argued with his editors about how it should be presented to the public.<br />
<br />
Clare grew up during a period of massive changes in both town and countryside as the Industrial Revolution swept Europe. Many former agricultural workers, including children, moved away from the countryside to over-crowded cities, following factory work. The Agricultural Revolution saw pastures ploughed up, trees and hedges uprooted, the fens drained and the common land enclosed.<br />
<br />
This destruction of a centuries-old way of life distressed Clare deeply. His political and social views were predominantly conservative ("I am as far as my politics reaches 'King and Country'—no Innovations in Religion and Government say I."). He refused even to complain about the subordinate position to which English society relegated him, swearing that "with the old dish that was served to my forefathers I am content."<br />
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Clare">(Wikipedia)</a></blockquote>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/ae/John_Clare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/ae/John_Clare.jpg" width="326" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Clare, painted by William Hilton in 1820 <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Clare#/media/File:John_Clare.jpg">(Wikipedia)</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1a/John_Clare%27s_birthplace%2C_Helpston%2C_Peterborough_-_geograph.org.uk_-_217344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1a/John_Clare's_birthplace%2C_Helpston%2C_Peterborough_-_geograph.org.uk_-_217344.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The house where Clare was born in Hepston, Peterborough. The house was subdivided, with Clare's family renting a portion (Wikipedia).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Clare's poem "Autumn:"<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
The thistledown's flying, though the winds are all still,
</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
On the green grass now lying, now mounting the hill,
</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
The spring from the fountain now boils like a pot;
</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Through stones past the counting it bubbles red-hot.
</div>
<br />
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
The ground parched and cracked is like overbaked bread,
</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
The greensward all wracked is, bents dried up and dead.
</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
The fallow fields glitter like water indeed,
</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
And gossamers twitter, flung from weed unto weed.
</div>
<br />
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Hill-tops like hot iron glitter bright in the sun,
</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
And the rivers we're eying burn to gold as they run;
</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air;
</div>
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.
</div>
</blockquote>
<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-26390183612806362212015-08-07T05:39:00.002-07:002015-10-04T03:30:36.986-07:00Lawrence of Arabia's Daggers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
T.E. Lawrence, British archeologist and later military officer who assisted the Arab forces against the Ottomans during the First World War, had three Arabian daggers he obtained during the desert campaigns, two silver and one gold. He gave one away, one is held by the University of Oxford, and one was bought at auction last month for nearly two hundred thousand dollars.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://36.media.tumblr.com/a344bb65d0493254ebd3d6bf82b75b60/tumblr_nspl22DKtd1rdntffo1_540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://36.media.tumblr.com/a344bb65d0493254ebd3d6bf82b75b60/tumblr_nspl22DKtd1rdntffo1_540.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The second silver dagger (Christie's).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Above is the second silver-gilt jambiya dagger (30cm long), gifted to T.E. Lawrence in 1917 by Sherif Nasir at Aqaba after <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Aqaba">the Arab capture of that town</a>
from the Turks. <b> </b><a href="http://www.christies.com/lotfinder/arms-armor/silver-gilt-mounted-arab-jambiya-dagger-ornately-tooled-hilt-5915241-details.aspx">The dagger was auctioned by Christie’s</a> on July 15, 2015, for a price realised of £122,500 (US $191,713). (The price realised is the hammer price plus the buyer's premium).<br />
<br />
Sherif
Nasir was an Arab leader and cousin of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faisal_I_of_Iraq">Emir Feisal I</a>, a Hashemite
prince who was the third son of the Grand Sherif of Mecca, lead the forces of
the Arab Revolt against the Ottomans from 1916-18, and was appointed king of Syria and then
Iraq after the First World War. Emir Faisal commanded the Arab forces alongside Abu ibu Tayi in the Battle of Aqaba, with Sherif Nasir
participating and Lawrence advising.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://40.media.tumblr.com/622acf2fe6bdd01db569214bf1ee0c75/tumblr_inline_nspjrwM9bQ1rueh3r_540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://40.media.tumblr.com/622acf2fe6bdd01db569214bf1ee0c75/tumblr_inline_nspjrwM9bQ1rueh3r_540.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emir Faisal’s delegation at Versailles, during the Paris Peace
Conference of 1919. Left to right: Rustum Haidar, Nuri as-Said, Prince
Faisal, Captain Pisani (behind Faisal), T. E. Lawrence, unknown person,
Captain Tahsin Kadry <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:FeisalPartyAtVersaillesCopy.jpg">(Wikipedia)</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In 1921, Lawrence left the dagger in the
possession of sculptor and society hostess Kathleen Scott (widow of
Antarctic explorer Captain Robert Falcon Scott), who had seen him at the
ballet and not known who he was. She would later comment to him in a
letter that when she had first seen him ‘you had a turban on and I think
I thought you had been born in it,’ which makes me wonder <b>why he was wearing a turban to the ballet, who does that.</b><br />
<br />
I have never seen Lawrence in a turban, and they weren’t worn by the Arabs where he was (they still aren’t),
so I suspect that when Scott saw him at the ballet he was actually
wearing a kefiyyah and agal like he did during the Arab Revolt. There
are many photos of him in one. Still, why would a Welshman wear that
at the ballet.<br />
<br />
Scott saw him again at Waterloo station and requested a sitting so she could make a sculpture of him: <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Lawrence acquiesced, stipulating only that she did not ‘do me as Colonel
Lawrence (he died Nov. 11. 1918)’. In fact, the resulting sculpture
depicted him in just this manner, in full Arab dress, dagger at his
waist. Of the sitting on 9 February 1921, Scott wrote: ‘Oh, what a very
pleasant day, first Col. Lawrence came. We had great fun about dressing
him up in his Arabian clothes, which he finally put on in the drawing
room’. After his final sitting on the 20 February, he left the present
dagger and robes with Kathleen, that she might continue her work while
he sailed to Cairo; it would be over a year later, on the 28 August
1922, that he would write to request their return – ‘There’s a little
artist wants to do an Arab picture, & has asked me for kit … Do you
think you could provide some from your store?’ – later mentioning in a
letter to Lionel Curtis in 1929 (see below) that the dagger still
remained in the possession of Lady Hilton Young [Scott having married
Edward Hilton Young, later 1st Baron Kennet, in 1922]. No such retrieval was
made, and the dagger and the robes have remained in the possession of
the family since then. <a href="http://www.christies.com/lotfinder/arms-armor/silver-gilt-mounted-arab-jambiya-dagger-ornately-tooled-hilt-5915241-details.aspx">(Christie’s). </a></blockquote>
Lawrence died in a motorcycle accident in 1935 and Lady Kennet died in 1947. This is the only
one of Lawrence’s three Arabian daggers known to remain in private
hands; it’s being sold by the estate of the last Lady Kennet following
her death.<br />
<br />
The first silver dagger was given to Lawrence by
Sherif Abdullah, elder brother of Feisal and future ruler of the
Transjordan. Lawrence presented it as a gift to the Howeitat chiefs in
the Wadi Sirhan at the urging of Sherif Nasir - an investment lavishly
rewarded by the support of the Bedouin in the assault on Aqaba,
according to Christie’s.<br />
<br />
Lawrence appears with a dagger in many photos, including this one from <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/celebritynews/11740087/Lawrence-of-Arabias-dagger-for-sale-90000.html">the Telegraph article about the auction:</a><br />
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<a href="https://40.media.tumblr.com/01967fa858858e443419fabc0968629a/tumblr_inline_nspjtgmlOO1rueh3r_540.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://40.media.tumblr.com/01967fa858858e443419fabc0968629a/tumblr_inline_nspjtgmlOO1rueh3r_540.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>
<br />
I can't tell which dagger he's wearing. It's not the gold dagger, because the gold dagger is a lot smaller and its front bulges. I think it might be the first silver-gilt dagger, which he gave away in Arabia, as it looks like the
shape’s different from the shape of the dagger in the photo provided by Christie's - the point of the dagger being auctioned curves up all the way to the hilt.<br />
<br />
Here's another photo of him in the desert somewhere, taken by B.E.
Leeson in 1917. I can't tell if it's the same dagger here either:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.npg.org.uk/800_800/8/4/mw07584.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://images.npg.org.uk/800_800/8/4/mw07584.jpg" height="400" width="305" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portraitLarge/mw07584/TE-Lawrence?LinkID=mp02655&role=sit&rNo=0">(National Portrait Gallery)</a></td></tr>
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Here's a hand-coloured photo of him from 1917. His dagger is tinted gold, but that doesn't necessarily mean it <i>was</i> gold. It's definitely not the same shape or size as the gold dagger held by All Souls:</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://huntingtonblogs.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Lawrence_photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://huntingtonblogs.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Lawrence_photo.jpg" height="400" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">T. E. Lawrence in a classic pose from a photo in the Metcalf collection,
1917 <a href="http://huntingtonblogs.org/2013/12/lawrence-of-the-huntington/">(The Huntington Library).</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
His third, smaller gold dagger was sold to his friend Lionel Curtis for £125, and subsequently presented to All Souls’ College, Oxford. Lawrence was a research fellow at the
college from 1919 to 1926. The college still holds a thobe
Lawrence wore, and the canteen set he used during the campaign. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.awm.gov.au/sites/default/files/tel-robes-custom1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://www.awm.gov.au/sites/default/files/tel-robes-custom1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lawrence's mother gave these robes to All Souls College after his death, in 1938. He adopted Arab dress in 1916 after being requested to when he joined the Arab forces, because he felt he could not gain the trust of the Arabs while dressed as a British officer, and because Arab dress was better suited to the desert. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.awm.gov.au/sites/default/files/agaldaggerbelt1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://www.awm.gov.au/sites/default/files/agaldaggerbelt1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lawrence wore the dagger, discreetly acquired in Mecca in 1917, during
the war; it also appears in the famous Augustus John portrait. He had it
made small because a full-size one would have been too cumbersome. After the war he sold it to pay for repairs to his Dorset
cottage, "Clouds Hill"; in 1938 it was given to All Souls College. Lawrence had purchased the head-dress in Aleppo in
1912 and given it to his mother the following year. He recovered it to
wear during the war because good quality examples were by then hard to
obtain. <a href="https://www.awm.gov.au/blog/2007/11/15/loans-from-all-souls-college-oxford/">(source).</a></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.awm.gov.au/sites/default/files/silverbowl-plate-spoon1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://www.awm.gov.au/sites/default/files/silverbowl-plate-spoon1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About 1917 Lawrence had a canteen set made in Jidda to his own design. It included the plate, bowl, and spoon which he carried and used throughout the desert campaigns <a href="https://www.awm.gov.au/blog/2007/11/15/loans-from-all-souls-college-oxford/">(source).</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.awm.gov.au/sites/default/files/horserider1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://www.awm.gov.au/sites/default/files/horserider1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> A Hittite horse and rider. Lawrence kept the terracotta figure in his room at All Souls
College in Oxford after the war. It dates from the ninth century BC and
comes from the area of his excavations at Carchemish before the war <a href="https://www.awm.gov.au/blog/2007/11/15/loans-from-all-souls-college-oxford/">(source).</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I haven’t been able to find a picture of the
sculpture of Lawrence that Christie’s says Kathleen Scott made, or any
other mention of it anywhere, so I’m not sure if it still exists or who might have it. In 1920
Scott did cast a sculpture of T.E. Lawrence’s younger brother A.W.
Lawrence, who was later Cambridge Professor of Classical Archaeology.
It’s a nude statue called "Youth" of a young man with his arms
outstretched, which Kathleen Scott (by then Lady Hilton Young) presented
to the Scott Polar Research Institute at the University of Cambridge
for the opening of the Institute’s building in 1934.<br />
<br />
Lady Hilton Young also presented a number of objects and papers to the
Institute in memory of her first husband and his four companions, who
died on their return journey from the South Pole in 1912. The statue of A.W.
Lawrence
still stands outside the building <a href="https://www.cam.ac.uk/museums-and-collections/working-together/my-museum-favourite/kathleen-scott-youth-1920">(you can see it here. It's a photo of the nude statue from behind)</a>. The Latin inscription on its pedestal – LUX PERPETUA LUCEAT EIS – is translated as "let eternal light shine upon them."</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-86795457411593601302015-08-04T00:03:00.000-07:002015-10-02T23:48:13.321-07:00Garden: August 03 2015<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I walked into town this morning to go to the bank and pay bills (I haven't payed my healthcare premium in four months, oops), but it was closed. It turns out it's BC Day, a statutory holiday. But I got a few things at the grocery store, and I took a few pictures along the way.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBZsI6cLYLNoOOo0VvOAgZQZPeqXwaMhprSTFemelcB569coFDNHBLN4_eepWuI4w5excTe3vYW9_1oRF2LP2CZL2-wvjAlmo8bH4HqxQrguoeNZHHEw6TkwEJ_xDvt6Rp9AZ829UGKXHh/s1600/begonias.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBZsI6cLYLNoOOo0VvOAgZQZPeqXwaMhprSTFemelcB569coFDNHBLN4_eepWuI4w5excTe3vYW9_1oRF2LP2CZL2-wvjAlmo8bH4HqxQrguoeNZHHEw6TkwEJ_xDvt6Rp9AZ829UGKXHh/s400/begonias.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angel wing begonias outside the grocery store.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicideFPxtRko27qHYVi4EqAVWRx0sEzu0oRkGFYss1Cev4Z3aqJ_X0puZ5ipjsrCEYbXNLX6clA2vAcH1P1DChZKlohplCvDdR54fpnZtgsYu5-lYE2YmTizWjMcryCY4hHI9tp3mdGGcS/s1600/fuschia.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="353" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicideFPxtRko27qHYVi4EqAVWRx0sEzu0oRkGFYss1Cev4Z3aqJ_X0puZ5ipjsrCEYbXNLX6clA2vAcH1P1DChZKlohplCvDdR54fpnZtgsYu5-lYE2YmTizWjMcryCY4hHI9tp3mdGGcS/s400/fuschia.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fuschias outside the grocery store.</td></tr>
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I believe that's <i>Fuschia triphylla</i> 'Gartenmeister Bonstedt,' which is bushy and upright but is not hardy. Carl Bonstedt of the Gottingen Botanical Gardens in Germany introduced it along with a bunch of other cultivars in 1904-1905, and it's still very popular. <a href="http://www.americanfuchsiasociety.org/articledirectory/triphylla-triphylla-type-and-tubular-fuchsias/">(American Fuschia Society)</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLOR0QWjk8mnZbCg1AZ7CUUKwTxqvPGJbPtGWnAGgJQr-PW27RFO8k9-_l3-1_g3f95GAPN_usQz4wEuXH-C7zu3jDaXaDSowzz6xY7aXHHVN1f3MupMpOzjHCSV3iEIGhY8vldjrG4DMD/s1600/rudbeckia.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLOR0QWjk8mnZbCg1AZ7CUUKwTxqvPGJbPtGWnAGgJQr-PW27RFO8k9-_l3-1_g3f95GAPN_usQz4wEuXH-C7zu3jDaXaDSowzz6xY7aXHHVN1f3MupMpOzjHCSV3iEIGhY8vldjrG4DMD/s400/rudbeckia.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Above, some flowers growing along the side of the road. On the left is rudbeckia, and I think the one on the right might be purple loosestrife (<i>Lythrum salicaria</i>), <a href="http://www.agf.gov.bc.ca/cropprot/weedguid/purplloo.htm">which is listed as a noxious weed in BC.</a><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPN4rH08Ok1MkfHhkJM-NeYeKCYzj9auHBQzA8hgl69uc2rmAb2BkCxyddtwcZtsuhP0DLbPTPOi_G0XgIXIcBP7GRQRXpOPnN77ECWIJ2JKwSE9KK_J_55A_xk4xbcpdKxtNun8YbnS4/s1600/blackberries+aug+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPN4rH08Ok1MkfHhkJM-NeYeKCYzj9auHBQzA8hgl69uc2rmAb2BkCxyddtwcZtsuhP0DLbPTPOi_G0XgIXIcBP7GRQRXpOPnN77ECWIJ2JKwSE9KK_J_55A_xk4xbcpdKxtNun8YbnS4/s400/blackberries+aug+3.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
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The blackberries are coming along. I ate a bunch and they're actually
sweet now. Himalayan blackberry is also a noxious weed, but at least
it produces something edible.<br />
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I was surprised when I came back, after nearly fifteen years away, and the gardens were gone and a thriving thicket of Himalayan blackberry and strapping alder trees in their place. There's blackberry and morning glory up to the eaves, and in some places you can't see out the windows at all. I've been back a few times over the years, but if I've looked at the gardens in that time I don't remember it. It's like being in Sleeping Beauty's castle.</div>
<br />
Our house is at the bottom of a hill just after the bend of a sharp corner. There's a concrete barrier along most of the front yard, but there's a 15ft gap in it at the bend. There's also a straight clear path between the road the the front right corner of the house. It's perfectly placed for drunks who lose control on the corner to shoot through the front yard and hit the house, which happens frequently. There used to be fruit trees between the road and the house, and there still are some around the side of the house, but over the years the drunk drivers have cleared a path to the house.<br />
<br />
My brother was telling me that last time a drunk hit the house, he was too plastered to find his way out of the yard. He drove all over the front lawn hitting trees and the concrete barrier. There is another gap in the barrier next to the driveway that a vehicle can fit through, but it was dark and he was too drunk to find it. While he's driving around, my brother calls the cops and gives a description of the truck and the driver, and then the guy gets out of the truck and staggers around, so my brother locks all the doors from the inside. A while later, he saw flashing lights and went outside to meet the cops, and the door slammed and locked behind him, and he didn't have his keys or his wallet on him.<br />
<br />
The cops saw a truck abandoned on the lawn and a tall youngish man standing in the yard looking at him, and they decided he was their suspect and would not listen when he said he lived there and he wasn't drunk and he didn't even have a driver's license. They unzipped his hoodie, and he was wearing a red t-shirt underneath. He had said the driver was wearing a red shirt, so that sealed it. They arrested him and put him in the back of the police car while they went to investigate the truck.<br />
<br />
Luckily our uncle came by from next door to see what the flashing lights were about, and saw my brother in the back of the cruiser. The cops believed my uncle that my brother lived there and didn't drive, and they didn't charge him with anything. I assume they found the driver eventually, since he was catastrophically drunk and had left his truck behind. All that's left now is a huge dent in the siding on the front right corner of the house.<br />
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I'm almost certain I grew this cactus from seed in the sixth grade. It's survived somehow, although it's barely been watered since my grandmother died eight years ago.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSt94qK9cKmUmdKM3ek3nYUKnqzIFdwrvqpiUXhyphenhyphenWm6RxB_X2bSbdnQJfMQzI85oIxiouMMwtqveIPk1unfwr2r_EINlaDewNCC3gwdSg-m-eAoU47AGKZmZp0ghDMXx4fEzhDm-BiCMv/s1600/sweet+cicely.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSt94qK9cKmUmdKM3ek3nYUKnqzIFdwrvqpiUXhyphenhyphenWm6RxB_X2bSbdnQJfMQzI85oIxiouMMwtqveIPk1unfwr2r_EINlaDewNCC3gwdSg-m-eAoU47AGKZmZp0ghDMXx4fEzhDm-BiCMv/s400/sweet+cicely.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet Cicely seedheads against the summer sky.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhoOMqZwS6jt1F5nY9ePbUBC6Oej6BJXzasUnD5MfNOXW1F-iWaOwnyTr8R3vPzNpkB7B_MoFTUAAAwXANDfF9iFSTjosNT9OnLAqja-33whnN_SKg57tmhTKzpmK-lb3kTobv1kRVApB/s1600/zucchini+aug.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="351" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhoOMqZwS6jt1F5nY9ePbUBC6Oej6BJXzasUnD5MfNOXW1F-iWaOwnyTr8R3vPzNpkB7B_MoFTUAAAwXANDfF9iFSTjosNT9OnLAqja-33whnN_SKg57tmhTKzpmK-lb3kTobv1kRVApB/s400/zucchini+aug.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can almost watch the zucchini plants grow. That little zucchini wasn't there before the weekend, but it's already 4" long.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUkM0d2LWso1iDJhbpLDwz7thI68yOCk8pZQoPIDjMYAamsp2iRgxAptfugZqxRGSLCtkHR4umtmB1ErBOHbopXKiMjvw17yPCNyo3npeOITJol_iC76Rv5JMejfau2dHc4zsbpUy0oPCu/s1600/mallow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUkM0d2LWso1iDJhbpLDwz7thI68yOCk8pZQoPIDjMYAamsp2iRgxAptfugZqxRGSLCtkHR4umtmB1ErBOHbopXKiMjvw17yPCNyo3npeOITJol_iC76Rv5JMejfau2dHc4zsbpUy0oPCu/s400/mallow.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rose mallow (<i>Malva sylvestris</i> 'zebrina') growing out of a crack in a concrete path.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://zvetki.ru/image/439_1996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://zvetki.ru/image/439_1996.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's a bigger mallow plant growing in Russia.</td></tr>
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It's a very old plant and an easy one to grow, technically a short-lived perennial, but ours only live a year. They reseed themselves and grow back the next year without an any effort or attention. They have a long flowering season, don't need a lot of water, and aren't invasive. A good-sized bush will be about three feet tall and two wide. My grandmother used to grow them, but the only ones left are growing in cracks in the pavement and not in the garden beds. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmVZ7kJfwoqdF690Zu4qZ1l9NdCDz9ZkOTCmFvgATG-PiyBCIeDx5QtfkISe5Nv6TyoibCHmJu9Skb2XaYodYXzR3qVCZr2AEzXlRt4S7Z7UA45SkbW2up3Nd5I0TgZcwnVgE6PNyJeApy/s1600/cats.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmVZ7kJfwoqdF690Zu4qZ1l9NdCDz9ZkOTCmFvgATG-PiyBCIeDx5QtfkISe5Nv6TyoibCHmJu9Skb2XaYodYXzR3qVCZr2AEzXlRt4S7Z7UA45SkbW2up3Nd5I0TgZcwnVgE6PNyJeApy/s400/cats.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our cats: left, Gracie; right, Jesse.</td></tr>
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Shortly after I took this picture, Gracie jumped off the couch and caught one of her claws in the afghan on the way down. I was reading something and it took me a few moments to realise that she was flailing around on the floor in a panic. Her paw was still stuck to the afghan sitting on the couch cushion. I yanked the afghan off the couch and dropped it on the floor. She freed herself and ran off.<br />
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Jesse used to only sit on my lap when he really wanted attention and I wasn't giving him any. He would sit on my lap and lick my hand while I tried to type on my phone, until I stopped and pet him. Then he would get off my lap and curl up against me on the couch. Except last weekend, he curled up on my lap and wouldn't get off. I moved him and got up and later sat back down again with my laptop on my lap, and he stood next to me on the couch and yowled at me until I put the laptop on the table and let him back on my lap. And then I was stuck reading on my phone, because I couldn't have both the cat and the computer on my lap at once, and I couldn't reach the coffee table from the couch.<br />
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He was really clingy, and I thought maybe he was sick, but he was eating fine and behaving normally, just sitting on me a lot. But this is the cat who wouldn't even come near me for four months, and then started wandering into my kitchen and demanding to be fed. I think he just levelled up in trust again. He's not on my lap all of the time anymore, he's beside me right now, but he still sleeps on me a lot. I guess that's normal for cats, I'm just not used to it.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-36636858821391585072015-08-03T16:51:00.000-07:002015-10-03T00:03:57.972-07:00Garden: late July 2015<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
(Another post I forgot in the drafts folder. Oops).<br />
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Most of the trees in the orchard died years ago and were never replaced, but there's a few types of apples and pears left. The plums are all gone, sadly. We do have one younger plum tree, and for the first time ever it has half a dozen plums on it, but it's been there for 20 years and it's never had plums before. It needs another tree to pollinate it. Maybe someone else planted a suitable one? We can hope. And whatever it was grafted to is now a thorny bush the size of a truck, and sending up thorny suckers all over the backyard. That tree was not a success.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3I8lT96RQdI25gx-NJK5eMYesf_0S1RMdUErwRMJpa36VU5bm-knsMRIgbtCeputiYUVloNOcfrbbSHQSoDhRCIsWgpHCVRMKBdeNS79MELsahCgFQi8_oFXnpsjQ2-qcTOcO-Io5cyI/s1600/apples+aug.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3I8lT96RQdI25gx-NJK5eMYesf_0S1RMdUErwRMJpa36VU5bm-knsMRIgbtCeputiYUVloNOcfrbbSHQSoDhRCIsWgpHCVRMKBdeNS79MELsahCgFQi8_oFXnpsjQ2-qcTOcO-Io5cyI/s400/apples+aug.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apples on the older tree. They're fine for cooking or sauce, but they don't taste nearly as good as the apples on the bear tree.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The two pear trees are very old and the fruit isn't that good, but it's fine for juice or canning.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWVfW-NkwuOvkxaJuhYy0p8WbQFluEJbSALqRdiibUhvIYq_XNMPIkyb5UDDkdw-0em-vVog1ge7GObL1s8aUHMMIjt-OVCGCZIkZyou3Fop0AnqGDDOb4xZs2o0OyVOgK5ZXYD0rarRCE/s1600/bear+tree+july.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="363" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWVfW-NkwuOvkxaJuhYy0p8WbQFluEJbSALqRdiibUhvIYq_XNMPIkyb5UDDkdw-0em-vVog1ge7GObL1s8aUHMMIjt-OVCGCZIkZyou3Fop0AnqGDDOb4xZs2o0OyVOgK5ZXYD0rarRCE/s400/bear+tree+july.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> The bear tree.</td></tr>
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A bear tried to climb this small apple tree to get at the fruit a few years ago, so now it's propped up by a stick. But it's still covered in apples, and my brother said they taste the best out of all the trees.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQl0s3iHqkPK6cqlN-z-dYJcKPzXgLhHJzoGuurUyim4rcKaz1PhP_1PR0vMDowtHqCHYnihaMPm9ZkUHW7DHCZ4Mn_TAz-ed0GITT7UJ5t7xmtY98pKCT7oURtRYsKqyiWDVS69slBpq/s1600/cows+july.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQl0s3iHqkPK6cqlN-z-dYJcKPzXgLhHJzoGuurUyim4rcKaz1PhP_1PR0vMDowtHqCHYnihaMPm9ZkUHW7DHCZ4Mn_TAz-ed0GITT7UJ5t7xmtY98pKCT7oURtRYsKqyiWDVS69slBpq/s400/cows+july.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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It was a hot day and the cows were all laying down. The goldenrod is starting to flower. I couldn't get any closer because
there's a ditch in the way and the ditches here don't fool around. The
ditch is big enough that there are cattails growing in it. And there's a
fence on the other side, so even if it was narrower, jumping the ditch
wouldn't work<br />
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Left: Buddleia. I haven't seen any butterflies on it, but the bees love it.<br />
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Right: Sunset on the night of July 23 2015.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-69990856508859740222015-08-03T16:46:00.001-07:002015-10-03T00:13:23.674-07:00Garden: late June / early July 2015<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I bought this phaelenopsis for I think ten dollars at Costco in February or March and the flowers lasted quite a while, but eventually they fell off. I never got around to cutting off the old flower stalk, since I didn't have scissors that could do the job, or pruner, and a while later I noticed that the plant was growing a new flower stalk partway up the old one. I didn't really think anything would come of it, but to my surprise it kept growing, and then developed buds, and another stalk branched off it. And now it's flowering again, and if the third stalk keeps growing, it will flower for many months. I've never seen a phaelenopsis do that before, or any orchid for that matter.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKE2Bs6dNDrxH5HzArtPidfG_N2nfFfxGmVCf_byfZTmWEfj2L5x2bBmLNngC5orB3h18p-KIpGqnySvoEawRplro5yx5uOb39waMlNclrXmY2F4yujVpfD5VuWv9siydXGgUmFDD1E8-/s1600/IMG_20150713_174434815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKE2Bs6dNDrxH5HzArtPidfG_N2nfFfxGmVCf_byfZTmWEfj2L5x2bBmLNngC5orB3h18p-KIpGqnySvoEawRplro5yx5uOb39waMlNclrXmY2F4yujVpfD5VuWv9siydXGgUmFDD1E8-/s400/IMG_20150713_174434815.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phaelenopsis</td></tr>
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In our front yard, up near the road, there's a crabapple tree. I don't know how old it is, or how old crabapple trees live to be. It was here when my family moved in nearly fifty years ago, and the house is over a hundred years old. It could be quite old. It's a small tree, and it's easy to pick the apples, which are less than 3cm across when ripe. Every year, without fail, it's covered in apples. They're sour and hard and not good to eat, but they can well. We used to can crabapples, in jars full of red syrup that dyed the apples red over time, and spiced with whole cinnamon sticks. We've had canned crab apples for decades, but I no longer have the energy to can. The tree still stands though. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHcLiqwSBrQhMieJHm-BXdvUtLLN1dxVfigRQKChlyDqt_0wPUwfEELFYQLjx3IcUu-QCKzdgYQZTQGHPQEM32U9uj_4dPN18ZkgVpGe6iRXlQDtOtxQLh1kCF8NOEQTB-8bJKHvIRj6zL/s1600/IMG_20150713_180954197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHcLiqwSBrQhMieJHm-BXdvUtLLN1dxVfigRQKChlyDqt_0wPUwfEELFYQLjx3IcUu-QCKzdgYQZTQGHPQEM32U9uj_4dPN18ZkgVpGe6iRXlQDtOtxQLh1kCF8NOEQTB-8bJKHvIRj6zL/s400/IMG_20150713_180954197.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crabapples</td></tr>
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My younger brother and cousin started vegetables in the greenhouse this year. The tomatoes are still inside, as you can't really grow them outside with much success here. The growing season is short and gets quite wet near the end, so the tomatoes get blight before they get ripe, and you can't even use the green ones if they're blighted. Before the greenhouse was built, we used to pick the tomatoes early while they were still green, and lay them carefully in dresser drawers lined with newspaper, and add an apple to each one, and pick them over every few days. They would ripen, mostly, but not as much as they would naturally under the sun, and they didn't taste nearly as good as sun-ripened tomatoes. Still, store-bought tomatoes are expensive and our family was large and not well-off.<br />
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The guys have around thirty tomatoes in the greenhouse in one-gallon pots. They're over two feet high now, and they don't have any tomatoes on them yet, but we're going to have more tomatoes than we'll know what to do with in a few months.<br />
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Below is a zucchini plant. There's about half a dozen of them, and they're planted in a bed outside right now. Six zucchini plants is a lot of zucchini plants, we're going to have more zucchini than we know what to do with too. I have no idea what we'll do with it all, probably give it to anyone who'll take some. We used to make zucchini relish tinted yellow with turmeric and mustard seeds, but that won't happen this year unless the guys do it. I used to make zucchini marmalade too, and zucchini bread.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZPW63RYZ0s7MVIMVssC6iTZCXLEi2ySk99GAqNZroesqG7gv6HGHHv1E5EOVONegYW1m0_zxqpug9qZl2gcO0ZgYi3ZPBSuOz8VDqdLJW-gLst9CU1_phBVgzfwmWm5SuDnNh9U0vAwc/s1600/IMG_20150718_075203589.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZPW63RYZ0s7MVIMVssC6iTZCXLEi2ySk99GAqNZroesqG7gv6HGHHv1E5EOVONegYW1m0_zxqpug9qZl2gcO0ZgYi3ZPBSuOz8VDqdLJW-gLst9CU1_phBVgzfwmWm5SuDnNh9U0vAwc/s400/IMG_20150718_075203589.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
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The guys are growing basil too, purple and green. They all like to cook, so they will probably use it for that. It's quite a bit taller now, I think I took these pictures last month. My cousin goes into the greenhouse and picks tomatoes off my one tomato plant (which I bought and which does have tomatoes, although they're very small) and wraps basil leaves around them and pops them in his mouth. He says it's very good, but I haven't tried it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwMDrVOj0_448DrLzvy_PG3GJaOVVRv6Hn9XcX-uKw4ozaNStMLMqfAQYr2ToB5mCxpnfu3DCszIVIH_7ZrgbVfKnxRihoyo8IxXYCKRESiuZLSWivXT4ste-wA6Baee1_oBSCvjp3WrPc/s1600/IMG_20150718_075216197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwMDrVOj0_448DrLzvy_PG3GJaOVVRv6Hn9XcX-uKw4ozaNStMLMqfAQYr2ToB5mCxpnfu3DCszIVIH_7ZrgbVfKnxRihoyo8IxXYCKRESiuZLSWivXT4ste-wA6Baee1_oBSCvjp3WrPc/s400/IMG_20150718_075216197.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basil</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It's late July, and we're in a level three drought, which is fairly normal for this area, although it's a bit worse than normal this year. I'm not sure when's the last time we had significant rain, probably May or early June. We did have one day of rain this month. The drought means we're under voluntary water restrictions, which is normal. So we don't water our lawn or anything else, although we probably wouldn't even if there wasn't a drought. We're not much for lawn care. My family mostly agrees with me that lawns are a waste of labour and water - seriously, during the growing season, my brother spends nine hours cutting the lawn. We have a lot of grass. There are tenants to help him now, and the lawn isn't growing at the moment because it's dry, but that's still a lot of work.<br />
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At least half the lawn was never seeded, we just let it grow in naturally after the addition was built and the second septic field was put in (our house is big. Three generations lived here until my grandmother died). So it's really a meadow, except that we mow it. And we only mow it because my mom says it's a fire hazard, it might be required by the house insurance, I don't know. It's only actually been cut like twice this year, my brother left it until my mom insisted he cut it and it got quite long (she doesn't live here, she lives in a tiny village about half an hour away. Seriously, it has a population of thirty and it doesn't even have a general store anymore. It's just a cluster of houses in the woods).<br />
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There are all sorts of plants in there, although it's mostly various grasses and yarrow. Right now, the only thing that's green are the huge patches of yarrow over the septic lines. The flowers mostly haven't opened yet. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Tto973LI4Ah2Cr8HYKH5SPvQQYdmEq2F2obb_82vHxKT8ijchJG5q7N4THlhP1Bq7mJxtfl1HBfa3fmnUGrH4FgrMLJbj1uSpGn0FDjJuM96Ysm886w788W2ISbOSrLQIIJIgIBvzOzK/s1600/IMG_20150721_181257914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Tto973LI4Ah2Cr8HYKH5SPvQQYdmEq2F2obb_82vHxKT8ijchJG5q7N4THlhP1Bq7mJxtfl1HBfa3fmnUGrH4FgrMLJbj1uSpGn0FDjJuM96Ysm886w788W2ISbOSrLQIIJIgIBvzOzK/s400/IMG_20150721_181257914.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yarrow</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We picked the first few blackberries a few days ago. My brother and cousin made some sort of (probably alcoholic) drink with whole blackberries in it in mason jars, but mine are still sitting in the fridge because I don't really know what to do with them. I'm told the blackberries are early this year (I've been gone so long I don't remember when they usually ripen. Today is July 23) and they looked ripe but maybe we should have left them a bit longer because they're very sour. They're so sour that I could only eat a few, and I don't like cooked fruit so I can't just bake something. Someone suggested I make smoothies with them, and I might, but I haven't felt like eating lately. I might just end up freezing them.<br />
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Blackberry flowers. I think I took this photo in June. Some of the brambles still have flowers, but they're mostly green berries right now.<br />
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There are apples now! I haven't seen apple trees in a very long time. There's a few trees, but the ones on the bear tree are tinged with red, they're the prettiest. And my brother says they taste the best too. It's called the bear tree because a bear tried to climb it to get at the fruit a few years ago, and now it's growing out of the side of the hill at a forty-five degree angle, propped up by a 2x4. It survived though, and it's covered in fruit.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTpibGld0Vds9BN5vmMal_Ra0H9XEKUywFjnEATk_nL2Xuj9grPXutKRSgu754YiDQjMrydGc_W4QHqRoFIyqUECcfSViRj8KKMC-PNbCP1zD8GY9E2lu8ufYxLqzX-W6ZdieanTi8K2Zt/s1600/apples+on+bear+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTpibGld0Vds9BN5vmMal_Ra0H9XEKUywFjnEATk_nL2Xuj9grPXutKRSgu754YiDQjMrydGc_W4QHqRoFIyqUECcfSViRj8KKMC-PNbCP1zD8GY9E2lu8ufYxLqzX-W6ZdieanTi8K2Zt/s400/apples+on+bear+tree.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apples on the bear tree</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Buddleia. Very pretty and drought-tolerant and fast-growing, and the butterflies love it. I haven't seen any butterflies though.<br />
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There are wild roses mixed in with some of the blackberry brambles at the bottom of the yard. They smell nice. I took this photo in June too.<br />
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There's a clump of tansy at the top of the hill beside the road. It's very pretty, and looks like it's tough.<br />
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Tansy has a long history of use. It was first recorded as being cultivated by the ancient Greeks for medicinal purposes. In the 8th century AD it was grown in the herb gardens of Charlemagne and by Benedictine monks of the Swiss monastery of Saint Gall. Tansy was used to treat intestinal worms, rheumatism, digestive problems, fevers, sores, and to “bring out” measles. <br />
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In England, sprigs of it were placed in bedding to drive out insects. A yellow dye was made from it.<br />
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In the 15th century, Christians began serving tansy with Lenten meals to commemorate the bitter herbs eaten by the Israelites.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-haughton_10-1"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tansy#cite_note-haughton-10"></a></sup> Tansy was thought to have the added Lenten benefits of controlling flatulence brought on by days of eating fish and pulses<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-mitich_5-3"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tansy#cite_note-mitich-5"></a></sup> and of preventing the intestinal worms believed to be caused by eating fish during Lent.<br />
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Tansy has also been cultivated and used for its insect repellent and in the worm warding type of embalming.<sup> </sup> It was packed into coffins, wrapped in funeral winding sheets, and tansy wreaths were sometimes placed on the dead.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-haughton_10-3"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tansy#cite_note-haughton-10"></a></sup> Henry Dunster, the first president of Harvard University,
was buried wearing a tansy wreath in a coffin packed with tansy; when
“God’s Acre” was moved in 1846 the tansy had maintained its shape and
fragrance, helping to identify the president’s remains.<sup> </sup>
By the 19th century, tansy was used so much at New England funerals
that people began to disdain it for its morbid association with death.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-durant_7-2"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tansy#cite_note-durant-7"></a></sup><br />
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During the American colonial period, meat was frequently rubbed with
or packed in tansy leaves to repel insects and delay spoilage.<sup> </sup>Tansy was frequently worn at that time in shoes to prevent malaria and other fevers; it has been shown, however, that some mosquito species including <i>Culex pipiens</i> take nectar from tansy flowers.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-13"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tansy#cite_note-13"></a></sup><br />
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(All info from <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tansy">Wikipedia</a>)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-41438330015353990162015-07-28T20:27:00.000-07:002015-09-24T22:40:07.979-07:00A buck in our garden<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I was out in the yard in the evening taking pictures of the garden today.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HejygeXFStgzCCw1wE7t_q0_12rhto-ANorgSKo80iyHg4MCtyc-kUw0VNc6azydgn9R4sCQwi38a_OlnBZKTBBxp57Zv3WchMNcxu_gfFOobK62YCGqKq6lC9YYf-VoPTsunJwIbs86/s1600/IMG_20150727_103321073_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HejygeXFStgzCCw1wE7t_q0_12rhto-ANorgSKo80iyHg4MCtyc-kUw0VNc6azydgn9R4sCQwi38a_OlnBZKTBBxp57Zv3WchMNcxu_gfFOobK62YCGqKq6lC9YYf-VoPTsunJwIbs86/s640/IMG_20150727_103321073_HDR.jpg" width="356" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rugosa roses</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It's mostly too late in the year and too hot for roses, but I took some photos of the last few rugosa roses in the village. They smell so sweet.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-yffMq3ZOySfHInCfzdmmgpHwKKtRqczzhiMpWRSaOh-ZWLqK0WvjHj1oAJAkJkPrUwwU2elISLUnagwTzcfkNfuV9Le5FHVlnrieXAhFEP4vhEBiq_NfycnVswGjFrLa_TAE7ENCMcH/s1600/IMG_20150727_173637948_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-yffMq3ZOySfHInCfzdmmgpHwKKtRqczzhiMpWRSaOh-ZWLqK0WvjHj1oAJAkJkPrUwwU2elISLUnagwTzcfkNfuV9Le5FHVlnrieXAhFEP4vhEBiq_NfycnVswGjFrLa_TAE7ENCMcH/s640/IMG_20150727_173637948_HDR.jpg" width="356" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mint</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I forgot to water my herbs and the thyme died, but the mint is still going strong and the fennel is doing pretty well too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBeeovUC2OSLDXNW0EItLwcZ1uV061UCoyC4c29sXvkIeZ2N5VdDbyRP6bEbv8Yh0EjDnCKSN5fKBe0hxbZU0Agn0hdli2K3UHQKZn_3q_mn2i63Gn0F9Jg5qrftadg8oEyl8jgmlWTxKV/s1600/IMG_20150727_174032286_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBeeovUC2OSLDXNW0EItLwcZ1uV061UCoyC4c29sXvkIeZ2N5VdDbyRP6bEbv8Yh0EjDnCKSN5fKBe0hxbZU0Agn0hdli2K3UHQKZn_3q_mn2i63Gn0F9Jg5qrftadg8oEyl8jgmlWTxKV/s640/IMG_20150727_174032286_HDR.jpg" width="356" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zucchini</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The first tiny zucchini! There are six or seven zucchini plants in a bed. We are going to have so much zucchini.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicntF0RV9UyBZRX_kI_qvAXjiCfnk0Y3TYMwhUIItyMgmxTrY6oZ5Uq1TL0Cw9i9wGT6Ysy5IEgaXWWkg5z_QCKl_HYk11KaZF2PuyV9VVHMOYxqdlRYkeLbhQaEw-irME1W3W5bBhPaFo/s1600/IMG_20150727_174215292.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicntF0RV9UyBZRX_kI_qvAXjiCfnk0Y3TYMwhUIItyMgmxTrY6oZ5Uq1TL0Cw9i9wGT6Ysy5IEgaXWWkg5z_QCKl_HYk11KaZF2PuyV9VVHMOYxqdlRYkeLbhQaEw-irME1W3W5bBhPaFo/s640/IMG_20150727_174215292.jpg" width="356" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cucumber flowers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Most of the cucumber plants are planted outside now, but this one seems to have been left behind.<br />
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That side of the yard used to be an orchard, but a lot of the trees are
gone now (they don't live forever) so it's just mown meadow.<br />
<br />
I took some pictures of the buddleia, but didn't manage to capture any
of the butterflies on it. They always move by the time the shutter goes
off. I took and deleted a lot of pictures of butterflies where the
butterflies were not actually present in the frame. Attempting wildlife
photography with a phone camera is frustrating.<br />
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There are some old fruit trees left, apples and pears and a crabapple.
The pears are pretty but they don't actually taste very good so I don't
know if we'll bother to get the ladder out and pick them.<br />
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The gardens have been neglected since my grandma died nearly ten years
ago, so they've been mostly taken over by blackberry brambles. My
brother cut them back to the ground two years ago, but the garden looks
like the hedge around Sleeping Beauty's castle. Himalayan blackberries
are invasive here.<br />
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There are a lot more blackberries ripe, and they're no longer incredibly sour.<br />
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I turned around, and there was a buck looking at me. <br />
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He was about twelve feet away but he wasn't bothered by my presence. He looked up when I took photos and then he went back to eating grass.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmXe6DO7yOk3QjcNalI4_Xz4vupA3lyIilt3_QjxjYKPyUG30ZwARFuscWA2n8gjy5kiNUmdQTfr-fK7HemxnGS6RVj1rcRWJKT4sHZKnm8ymjZ4F0iDtb-zxbdOQZqoqK2W37uj_i28tA/s1600/IMG_20150728_193221128_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmXe6DO7yOk3QjcNalI4_Xz4vupA3lyIilt3_QjxjYKPyUG30ZwARFuscWA2n8gjy5kiNUmdQTfr-fK7HemxnGS6RVj1rcRWJKT4sHZKnm8ymjZ4F0iDtb-zxbdOQZqoqK2W37uj_i28tA/s640/IMG_20150728_193221128_HDR.jpg" width="356" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Nq-KdVcvqsrrcaFxnwXnL3RCuuPNN6hUveyO7VS03eNXZTSSkS_YAIjPlrIJcFSEZ6v_MFRhBM74pqwL9MY8xkU1PA3wLPOVpmN_tXjlXCM73XuAz0mbXo7eLZgo-SfFL7I275eMElKb/s1600/IMG_20150728_193139355_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Nq-KdVcvqsrrcaFxnwXnL3RCuuPNN6hUveyO7VS03eNXZTSSkS_YAIjPlrIJcFSEZ6v_MFRhBM74pqwL9MY8xkU1PA3wLPOVpmN_tXjlXCM73XuAz0mbXo7eLZgo-SfFL7I275eMElKb/s640/IMG_20150728_193139355_HDR.jpg" width="356" /></a></div>
</div>
<br />
Those pictures aren't great, but they're the best I could get. Deer
just won't hold still. I deleted a whole bunch of blurry pictures of
the buck with a derpy expression on its face and legs at awkward angles.
Deer look really weird when you photograph them mid-walk.<br />
<br />
It's really common to look out the window and see deer, but usually
they're does. Sometimes I look up from the computer and there's a deer
staring in the living room window at me. I haven't been around deer in
the better part of a decade, so it's kind of surreal to have all these
wild animals that aren't scared of humans wandering around. It's like
being in a fairy tale. I expect one of them to open its mouth and tell
me my future.<br />
<br />
The tree behind the buck in the second picture we call the bear tree.
It was planted about fifteen years ago when one of the old apple trees
died, but trees take a long time to grow so it's not that big yet. It
has the best apples out of all our trees, but a few years ago a black
bear climbed it to try to get at the fruit. So now it's at a forty-five
degree angle to the ground and propped up by a piece of 2x4, but it's
still alive and still covered in apples. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://41.media.tumblr.com/bdea32d496f02cf6cc65882cc728b61e/tumblr_ns8mtt86rG1rdntffo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://41.media.tumblr.com/bdea32d496f02cf6cc65882cc728b61e/tumblr_ns8mtt86rG1rdntffo1_1280.jpg" height="640" width="356" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bear tree</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqyuTzxnKX7hMM6XOCFGwmUUTzUXPNP5Fg_xfz2Gh6OZKFrD3acKwXOqmy3s469xrPJVATs35EzBtOEcLHZFCNIk7zE7NePBjijjuDFJ2axWjBKWNTtK19U6pu0UPFAHQJt2CGfejguDp/s1600/IMG_20150728_174258913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqyuTzxnKX7hMM6XOCFGwmUUTzUXPNP5Fg_xfz2Gh6OZKFrD3acKwXOqmy3s469xrPJVATs35EzBtOEcLHZFCNIk7zE7NePBjijjuDFJ2axWjBKWNTtK19U6pu0UPFAHQJt2CGfejguDp/s640/IMG_20150728_174258913.jpg" width="356" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apples</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Apples on the underside of the bear tree. We are going to have so many apples too. I don't like sweets so I probably won't eat many, but the guys upstairs will probably make blackberry-apple pie.<br />
<br />
The sun set and I went back inside and made a cup of coffee, and saw a
flash of movement through the living room window. I looked out, and
there were two bucks with velvet-covered antlers about six feet from the
house, standing up on their hind legs to pick apples off the underside
of the bear tree and then putting them on the ground to take bites off
them. I took a photo through the window of a startled buck looking at
me with an apple in its mouth. It was too dark and the flash reflecting
off the glass ruined the photo, but the buck had the funniest
expression on his face.<br />
<br />
I texted my brother upstairs about it, and he was annoyed. That's the
best tree and we're waiting for those apples and they're not even ripe
yet. Nothing is safe from the deer. He wanted to see a picture of the
deer at least, but I didn't have one, so he had to settle for me
describing the scene over text message.
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-66059455100853566922015-07-28T16:11:00.002-07:002015-07-28T16:11:35.090-07:00Stranded orca saved by volunteers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
At Hartley Bay on the north coast of BC, an orca stranded on the rocks was kept alive for eight hours by a team of whale researchers and volunteers. <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/stranded-orca-saved-by-volunteers-who-kept-it-cool-for-hours-until-high-tide-1.3164728">From the CBC July 24 2015</a>:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Early Wednesday morning, the group received a call from a
colleague about the beached orca, which was stuck on some rocks at low
tide.<br />
<br />
"We decided the best thing to do would be to keep her cool, that
meant to put water on her body and we used blankets and sheets,"
said Hermann Meuter, a co-founder of Cetacean Lab.<br />
<br />
"It was the only thing we could do."<br />
<br />
Meuter said they could see the orca's behaviour change as they began to help her.<br />
<br />
<div class="photogallery photogallery_story sclt-photogallery col4width floatright module">
</div>
"At first she was stressed, you could see that her breathing was getting a little faster," said Meuter.<br />
<br />
But after about 15 to 20 minutes, she began to calm down.<br />
<br />
"I think she knew that we were there to help her," said Meuter.<br />
<br />
Around 4 p.m. PT, the tide began to rise and the orca was able to start freeing herself.<br />
<br />
"It took her about 45 minutes to negotiate how best to get off the
rocks," said Meuter. "We all just kept our distance at that point."<br />
<br />
When she swam away, the orca was quickly reunited with her pod, which was nearby. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/stranded-orca-saved-by-volunteers-who-kept-it-cool-for-hours-until-high-tide-1.3164728">(CBC July 23 2015)</a></blockquote>
That's one lucky whale. People in the comments are arguing about the morality and wisdom of either saving whales or not saving them. My brother says he would have helped but a lot of people are saying it's a dumb idea. Canadians are the weirdest sometimes.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://assets.vancitybuzz.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/whalefeature.jpg?1f48cf" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://assets.vancitybuzz.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/whalefeature.jpg?1f48cf" height="202" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The transient orca was spotted beached on the rocks near Hartley Bay on
B.C.'s northern coast on Wednesday. (Whale Point/Facebook) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://media.twnmm.com/storage/22972351/15" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://media.twnmm.com/storage/22972351/15" height="363" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="irc_su" dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;">Volunteers wet towels and blankets in order to keep the orca cool and wet. Courtesy of Whale Point/Facebook</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.cbc.ca/gfx/topvideo/2015/orca-nat-brown-072315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.cbc.ca/gfx/topvideo/2015/orca-nat-brown-072315.jpg" height="217" width="400" /></a></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-46650427666337093622015-07-25T15:37:00.000-07:002015-07-25T15:37:01.952-07:00Garden: July 26 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's late July and the garden is doing great! This is all my brother and cousin's doing. I don't even water it, I just take photos.<br />
<br />
We have one lone hanging basket left that nobody's watered in about seven years. It's all sedum and grass now, but it's still hanging on. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvAjrWvZy1Bj_Zhr3yFDBO7Ongzc6QzODFh22fE5I8Wju61jUYzQxKNFp38L5Fc_vsS-w3Pmx4yyBit1avoGTC5sXkE-UoZf5jZUx5qeCNwalSHRhqVAvoEWbFHR3-XhHEoWD-IEbG3Bp/s1600/IMG_20150725_145229725.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvAjrWvZy1Bj_Zhr3yFDBO7Ongzc6QzODFh22fE5I8Wju61jUYzQxKNFp38L5Fc_vsS-w3Pmx4yyBit1avoGTC5sXkE-UoZf5jZUx5qeCNwalSHRhqVAvoEWbFHR3-XhHEoWD-IEbG3Bp/s400/IMG_20150725_145229725.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sedum and grass</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQRQoNbcVPn73v4akuwvQ5odRqjwPF2JUzQ5u28TBcZnTsyZvghEpOPIc_bz0DqxornYaeyN5qvskMwvqv7z6bnQToy9n7hl3fZRUXZrhJmrZcUTA48FMmlQ8-Zi4qG2RwPbxziSMcO1sy/s1600/IMG_20150725_145403474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQRQoNbcVPn73v4akuwvQ5odRqjwPF2JUzQ5u28TBcZnTsyZvghEpOPIc_bz0DqxornYaeyN5qvskMwvqv7z6bnQToy9n7hl3fZRUXZrhJmrZcUTA48FMmlQ8-Zi4qG2RwPbxziSMcO1sy/s400/IMG_20150725_145403474.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red basil</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_9aFl9MLiRBhdeKyBO5RDjBd_6GyYlpzg7mMvuwVfkhaGdG9MsH7C0cqFuohqjSTX-NHqke8SuDtG6YUayUVcIY7iX_dWWktwc-Ctr4slYOUg83Uff6netBWgboeBFZNMnthWYA_zQle/s1600/IMG_20150725_145423534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_9aFl9MLiRBhdeKyBO5RDjBd_6GyYlpzg7mMvuwVfkhaGdG9MsH7C0cqFuohqjSTX-NHqke8SuDtG6YUayUVcIY7iX_dWWktwc-Ctr4slYOUg83Uff6netBWgboeBFZNMnthWYA_zQle/s400/IMG_20150725_145423534.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet green basil</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvHTG0YHIhIh55cA7OKRTnyV6370R887a8sfADs3gMxVlbNy91X250Tjiiblvn7TNpYPgpqVwDdN6CyKvReYJSpiPjFSkAPb3aG4ht5GwiqPewlThVEKW6pPaPX6fySBAZn3hRmDopr10E/s1600/IMG_20150725_145541331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvHTG0YHIhIh55cA7OKRTnyV6370R887a8sfADs3gMxVlbNy91X250Tjiiblvn7TNpYPgpqVwDdN6CyKvReYJSpiPjFSkAPb3aG4ht5GwiqPewlThVEKW6pPaPX6fySBAZn3hRmDopr10E/s400/IMG_20150725_145541331.jpg" width="223" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomatoes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Most of those tomatoes are green because my cousin and I eat them off the plants as soon as they're ripe.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuIXY42qL3RxHxXqjbHe0ADM2wN8_t0cWAthZJLR1-TPK5cpY-VIhS806oudpleV6whlDVHH9qlcm3S9sWXrtVDbfFGH1Y24zzbKn0sYK8XpkdpZdiwkNnr43PhCPucrW9p8ersYFVS_gn/s1600/IMG_20150725_145605940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuIXY42qL3RxHxXqjbHe0ADM2wN8_t0cWAthZJLR1-TPK5cpY-VIhS806oudpleV6whlDVHH9qlcm3S9sWXrtVDbfFGH1Y24zzbKn0sYK8XpkdpZdiwkNnr43PhCPucrW9p8ersYFVS_gn/s400/IMG_20150725_145605940.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
The tomatoes the guys seeded are getting big and putting out green tomatoes now.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhalvZ9Apobmx-H90OldRqXhlgj_2a2PU1-TBaEoB9o67rxaDMV6ciy48TqwIL-NXMF6-ubKOzDaOdhmries953e7eeolTgdUzQN92p0IbahopkG9KGQMEkNlvsr7LaJ8Rt8RbCBHyJk71l/s1600/IMG_20150725_145650030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhalvZ9Apobmx-H90OldRqXhlgj_2a2PU1-TBaEoB9o67rxaDMV6ciy48TqwIL-NXMF6-ubKOzDaOdhmries953e7eeolTgdUzQN92p0IbahopkG9KGQMEkNlvsr7LaJ8Rt8RbCBHyJk71l/s400/IMG_20150725_145650030.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strawberries</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There's a few strawberries but usually the slugs get to them before we can.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqz2A8rE-ir_r7kcML1TFKS_G3ulkw1nXIU1J5vkZ-wU_MZuuKfHi4ickkB1f2BALzH8dp9IxsVtbWedWV8IXErp7v7K7mpAMD5EVoYwCPH0wtekx2s4hyI9yuSMv70w4G9pU5OvFTn04/s1600/IMG_20150725_151543584_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqz2A8rE-ir_r7kcML1TFKS_G3ulkw1nXIU1J5vkZ-wU_MZuuKfHi4ickkB1f2BALzH8dp9IxsVtbWedWV8IXErp7v7K7mpAMD5EVoYwCPH0wtekx2s4hyI9yuSMv70w4G9pU5OvFTn04/s400/IMG_20150725_151543584_HDR.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
My brother's weird old Russian Niva 1600. He wants to buy a Mustang.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjUUsi1HCbWzC-ov9nPbIduDSSVAEHtrnwv4_0LHCNKGv1BnOZArGzcWHF2c_QnLRKqBot6HcZSD3-VzxW1It5LDxntr33awF3VuhjPWLXnazYfE4xIqg823kLW5E7D6bPiWk-DHl9CaSz/s1600/IMG_20150725_151700394_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjUUsi1HCbWzC-ov9nPbIduDSSVAEHtrnwv4_0LHCNKGv1BnOZArGzcWHF2c_QnLRKqBot6HcZSD3-VzxW1It5LDxntr33awF3VuhjPWLXnazYfE4xIqg823kLW5E7D6bPiWk-DHl9CaSz/s400/IMG_20150725_151700394_HDR.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
The thistles are doing great. The bees like them too.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098687575127151279.post-10928285366164692602015-07-24T19:35:00.000-07:002015-10-05T23:31:05.453-07:00Did a Muslim walk on the moon?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div align="LEFT" style="border: none; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; padding: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">Someone once
insisted to me that a Muslim space shuttle made it to the moon before
the American one did. She was a teacher I had in college, and she
thought that fact proved that Muslims were superior to Americans. I
asked her when that was and what the mission was called and she just
kept repeating the word for “space shuttle” in Arabic and
eventually I gave up.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="border: none; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; padding: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="border: none; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; padding: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">Some time
later I got on the internet and did some Googling in both languages
and found out that there was a rumour that Neil Armstrong heard the
athan on the moon and converted to Islam there. (The rest of this story is under a cut).</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;"></span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;"> From <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Armstrong#Personal_life">Wikipedia:</a></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="border: none; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; padding: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div align="LEFT" style="border: none; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; padding: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="cite_ref-140"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="cite_ref-Hansen631_141-0"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="cite_ref-Hansen631_141-1"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="cite_ref-142"></a>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">Since the
early 1980s, Armstrong has been the subject of a hoax saying that he
converted to Islam after hearing the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adhan"><i>adhan</i></a>,
the Muslim call to prayer, while walking on the Moon. The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indonesia">Indonesian</a>
singer Suhaemi wrote a song called "<i>Gema Suara Adzan di
Bulan</i>" ("The Resonant Sound of the Call to Prayer on
the Moon") which described Armstrong's conversion; the song was
discussed widely in various <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jakarta">Jakarta</a>
news outlets in 1983.<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Armstrong#cite_note-140">[140]</a>
Other similar hoax stories were seen in Egypt and Malaysia. In March
1983, the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Department_of_State">U.S.
State Department</a> responded by issuing a global message to Muslims
saying that Armstrong "has not converted to Islam".<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Armstrong#cite_note-Hansen631-141">[141]</a>
However, the hoax was not completely quieted; it surfaced
occasionally for the next three decades. A part of the confusion
stems from the similarity between Armstrong's American residence in
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lebanon,_Ohio">Lebanon, Ohio</a>,
and the country <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lebanon">Lebanon</a>
which has a majority population of Muslims.<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Armstrong#cite_note-Hansen631-141">[141]</a><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Armstrong#cite_note-142">[142]</a>
</span></span>
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</blockquote>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">In the course
of researching this, I found out that Buzz Aldrin performed communion
on the moon, although it was not publicised at the time:</span></span></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">Before
Armstrong and Aldrin stepped out of the lunar module on July 20,
1969, Aldrin unstowed a small plastic container of wine and some
bread. He had brought them to the moon from Webster Presbyterian
church near Houston, where he was an elder. Aldrin had received
permission from the Presbyterian church's general assembly to
administer it to himself. In his book Magnificent Desolation he
shares the message he then radioed to Nasa: "I would like to
request a few moments of silence … and to invite each person
listening in, wherever and whomever they may be, to pause for a
moment and contemplate the events of the past few hours, and to give
thanks in his or her own way."</span></span> </div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
He then ate and drank the elements. The surreal ceremony is
described in an article by Aldrin in a 1970 copy of Guideposts
magazine: "I poured the wine into the chalice our church had
given me. In the one-sixth gravity of the moon the wine curled slowly
and gracefully up the side of the cup. It was interesting to think
that the very first liquid ever poured on the moon, and the first
food eaten there, were communion elements."<br />
<br />
He also read a section of the gospel of John. During it all,
Armstrong, reportedly a deist, is said to have watched respectfully
but without making any comment. (<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/belief/2012/sep/13/buzz-aldrin-communion-moon">The Guardian September 13 2012</a>)</blockquote>
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(That article has been written since I originally researched this. There's a lot more information about this on the internet than there used to be).</div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">The rumour
that a Muslim walked on the moon is partially supported these days by
Buzz Aldrin's one mention of Islam, when he talks about the communion
he performed on the moon:</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">In [his
book] Magnificent Desolation, Aldrin explains how astronaut Deke
Slayton, who ran the Apollo 11 flight crew operations, told him to
tone down his lunar communiqué. "Go ahead and have communion,
but keep your comments more general," he advised. Looking back
Aldrin writes that the communion was his way of thanking God for the
success of the mission. Yet, later he hinted that he could have been
more inclusive:</span></span></div>
<blockquote>
<i>"Perhaps, if I had it to do over again, I would not
choose to celebrate communion.<br />Although it was a deeply meaningful
experience for me, it was a Christian sacrament, and we had come to
the moon in the name of all mankind – be they Christians, Jews,
Muslims, animists, agnostics, or atheists."</i></blockquote>
O'Hair's case against Nasa eventually fizzled out, but it
dramatically changed the tone of the <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/science/apollo-11-moon-landing">Apollo
11</a> landing. Aldrin had originally intended a much more pioneering
Christopher Columbus-style ceremony on the moon. That was never to
be. (<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/belief/2012/sep/13/buzz-aldrin-communion-moon">The Guardian September 13 2012</a>)</blockquote>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">Prominent atheist
Madalyn Murray O'Hair was suing NASA for a ban on astronauts
practising religion anywhere, including in space, because she
believed it violated the separation between church and state. (The
Apollo 8 mission had previously read the creation account from
Genesis in orbit). So the communion was never broadcast.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">O'Hair's life did not end well:</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">She disappeared in 1995 along with her son Jon and granddaughter Robin
Murray. After a long hunt, their dismembered and charred bodies were
found in a field. Authorities believe that David Waters, a former
employee of O'Hair, masterminded a plot to rob and murder O'Hair. Her
born-again son, William Murray, who lost not only his mother but also
his brother and daughter to Waters and his associates, has spoken very
strongly about his upbringing under O'Hair. He mourns his family but
believes his mother was pumped up by her own hype and was even evil. In a
statement given in 1999 he said, "she honestly believed she had
singlehandedly removed prayer from school. She honestly believed she had
'liberated' America sexually". <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/belief/2012/sep/13/buzz-aldrin-communion-moon">(The Guardian September 13 2012)</a></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">Aldrin's
church, Webster Presbyterian Church in Houston, still celebrates
Lunar Communion Sunday every July, and they still hold the chalice
that Aldrin used on the moon and brought back with him.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">Armstrong has
publicly denied becoming a Muslim a few times, and the US State
Department said it was untrue, and Islam Q&A even wrote an
opinion saying that the story was untrue, but it still goes around.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;">I think the
story that our teacher told us was probably a combination of the
rumour that Neil Armstrong became Muslim, and Yuri Gargarin's 1961
orbit in Vostok 1. Someone heard that an astronaut was Muslim, and
that the Americans were not the first ones in space, and the stories
were combined and then a decades-long game of telephone was played by
people who had no internet (until very recently), and very little access
to books. These things happen. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="background: #ffffff;"> I do kinda blame my teacher for
teaching things she hadn't fact-checked, though. She also taught us
that fat people were stupider than thin people. It wasn't a very good
college.</span></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13443434334539569385noreply@blogger.com2