It was 28 degrees when I went out to walk this morning! Thankfully, I had read the weather forecasts, so Jessica and I had picked all the peppers, and I had pulled all the dead and dying flowers a couple days ago. Now we have small green peppers ripening on several windowsills, as well as two hanging plants that I have no idea where to position for the winter. They were lush and dark green out on the porch all summer, but sadly, they’re looking pale and yellowish green inside the house. I am hoping they will pull through.
Archive for the 'Flora' Category
It was mid-morning and, having read the Bible, ordered stamps, taken the taken the mail out, watered the garden, done part of the breakfast clean up, and graded and assigned math, I went to take a shower. Hobbling as I do with my super shoe off, I waddled to the bathroom and approached the porcelain throne. But what on EARTH was in there? Neatly balanced on a bed of toilet tissue that covered the drain was a large handful of small green plums!
We have a plum tree and it always produces scads of tiny (1.25″ diameter) plums. They ripen in early August and one year a neighbor asked if she could have them to make plum jelly. That was fine with me, so she made it and brought us a jar that was ultra-yummy. I had decided that this year I would try it myself, so a few days ago, Andrew gathered about a pound-and-a-half of them. They’re in the fridge, because we need about six pounds for the recipe.
So anyway, I called together the available kids (Katie having already left for AIM) and directed their attention to my unusually adorned toilet, querying, “Okay, WHO put the plums in my toilet?!?!?!”
They all laughed uproariously, and Josiah confessed that he was the culprit. WHY did he do such a thing? “I just wanted to see what your reaction would be!”
Have you noticed that flowers in the spring don’t just gradually open? They BURST forth, and I have been trying to figure out why.
We have two plum trees in our front yard. They were really planted too close together, but we didn’t plant them, so we don’t worry about that. In fact, we only really think about the plum trees a couple times a year. One time is in August when the fruit ripens and Andrew hauls in bags and bags of them (which we usually throw out, because I am too lazy to make plum jelly – although last year I did actually buy jelly jars and pectin to do so, but then the plums just kind of fizzled out; probably as a result of the snow we had after they bloomed last April), and the other is in April when I carefully (12 times so far) try to discern exactly when they bloom and why.
See, yesterday, they were not blooming. They had little nubs that looked like they might bloom in a week or so, but no evidence of anything white and flowery. Today half of the smaller tree is in bloom, and a few white blossoms have popped out on the larger tree. My guess is that if the trees don’t turn brilliantly snow-white by late this afternoon, they will by tomorrow.
Now how can this be? I have given much thought to the matter, and I think I have it figured out. My hypothesis is that it’s all hydraulics. Somewhere in the trunk of the tree is a solenoid that controls the flow of power to the branches. On a certain warm night in early April, a mother opossum, with nine young clinging to her back and/or hanging off her tail, climbs the plum tree in order to get a birds’ eye view of the nearby highway and initiate the eruption of some tasty plum blossoms.
The weight of the possum family on the branch is transferred to the trunk, causing a shift differential which generates an electric current of some eight volts; thereby opening the solenoid which releases the fluid pressure that has been steadily building up within the trunk. As this pressure rushes at 40 mph through the plum tree’s limbs, it thrusts the blossoms forcefully out of the stems with a soft “plop-plopping” sound. The pace is akin to popping popcorn, but the sound is more muffled. In forty-seven seconds flat, the entire tree is loaded with brilliant white, extremely pungent blooms.
The possum family feasts till dawn, but considering the huge numbers of flowers, makes an imperceptible dent in the supply. We humans awaken the next morning to a visual feast and wonder how on earth the plum tree(s) managed to burst into bloom overnight.
I am fully convinced that God simply holds the fully-formed flowers (folded flat for easy storage) in each twiglet until the possums arrive. Then, once the switch is tripped, BOOM: flowers appear.
It’s really all just hydraulics.
Not one. And none in the grass, either. This is truly amazing, because all the other ten falls we have lived here, we have been inundated with copious quantities of walnuts. They fall off the trees, and bounce onto to the roof – sounding like golf balls – then roll down to the gutters, where they either stop (creating multiple mini waterfalls during our predictable November rains) or plop (onto the ground or whoever happens to be walking on it at the time).
However, the greatest risk of walnut-induced injury is actually not a concussion, but a broken ankle. In every previous year, the entire area from the breezeway door to the driveways is completely covered with walnuts. Getting to your car is like roller skating on tennis balls. Avoiding the walnuts is not possible, as they are inevitably buried under six inches of leaves. Stepping on a relatively ripe one will cause it to squash open and dark brown (well, walnut-colored, duh) stain will stain your shoes, which will then stain the carpet in your car or in your house, depending on which way you are headed as you cross the mine field.
We were out raking the other day, and I chose the area between the driveways. If you haven’t been here, it’s kind of hard to explain how/why we have two driveways, and if you have been here it’s not necessary, so I won’t try. I selected that area to rake because its boundaries are clearly defined and it is small. Halfway through the job, it suddenly dawned on me that I was standing upright with no greater effort than usual. Something was clearly amiss, and I realized with a start that there were no walnuts on the ground.
I paused, I pondered, and I surveyed the situation carefully. No walnuts on the ground. No walnuts in the gutters. No walnuts on the roof. And no walnuts in the trees. No leaves up there, either. Where on earth had the walnuts gone? And if all our walnuts were gone, what about everyone else’s? Were other homeowners skating on walnuts while we blissfully sauntered? Did anyone have walnuts? How much would a bag of walnuts cost at Sam’s if NO ONE had walnuts?
My lightning quick mind finally turned on. Last spring, after the tulips came up and the daffodils bloomed, after the pear trees blossomed, and after I planted both my flower beds, we had a hard freeze, with the result that, the iris and the peonies never bloomed at all, I had to re-do all my bedding plants, and in August we had a lot fewer plums than usual. Aha! Maybe that same freeze did something wonderful terrible to the walnuts.
As we drifted lazily along in our tubes, we were able to watch the three otters for over ten minutes. They slipped through the water with the grace of dolphins, tumbling playfully over each other. We saw them walk up onto the shore, scoot under rocks and tree roots, and then emerge way downstream from where they went in. They’d swim around for a moment, dive under the surface (sometimes we could see their air bubbles), and reappear back upstream of us. They certainly had no lack of energy.
A couple times they swam out toward us and we stayed very still, hoping they would come even closer. I’d say they swam to within fifteen feet of us! We saw one of them catch a fish and chomp on it while swimming, but what I thought was really neat was when one of them caught a crawdad, carried it up on the bank and ate it. We could hear every bite: “crunch, crunch-crunch, crunch, crunch.” I guess it was pretty tasty.
At one point, two of them left the third, who was walking on the shore, and swam out to the middle of the river and slightly upstream. I think the lone otter must’ve been a youngster, because once he realized he was alone, he ran back and forth on the bank, clearly looking for the other two. They, diving around some rocks midstream, ignored Junior completely, and after a minute or so, he began to squeak! He sounded like a forlorn puppy whimpering for its mama. His squeaks became louder and more insistent, and we wondered why the other two weren’t coming to his aid. Finally he let loose with all he had – not as loud as a sea lion, but the same kind of sound – and eventually, the other two came back to him.
Together, they dipped and dove a while longer, then abruptly turned upstream. About that time, we floated to within site of the upper reaches of our campground. I guess the otters knew there’d be too many people around if they kept going downstream with us, so they turned back.
Seeing and hearing them in the wild, so “up close and personal” was a wonderfully memorable experience. Yet another gold star for Buffalo Point.
Visible Mammals and Visible Meat (camping post #3)
Published June 23, 2007 Flora , Food , Recreation 1 CommentOnce the camp was all set up – and when we set up camp it is akin to constructing a small city – we were all so hot and sweaty we could no longer stand it, so we trotted down to the river and waded in.
Ahhhhhhh! The cool, cold, refreshingness of it all! The river at that point is quite shallow - maybe knee deep to hip deep – so Jessica and I waded upstream a bit seeking enough depth to submerge our shoulders. Something on the far shore caught her eye. It was dark and scampering along the bank, moving sort of like a cat. I didn’t have my glasses on, so I didn’t have a very clear shot of it.
Whatever it was sat on a rock and looked at us, so we inched our way closer and closer. When we were about fifteen feet away, it dove into a hole under a rock, just above the water line. It might have been a baby otter, but we weren’t sure. Edging closer, we were able to actually see into the den, and there were THREE little noses, sets of eyes, and whiskers peering at us!
It turns out that their house had a back door, and they scampered in and out and through the den without once wiping their feet. At one point, we could see one eating something and it sounded crunchy. Maybe a crawdad? I watched until I began to get a headache, which is what always happens when I try to focus intently sans glasses, and then we waded back to the near bank.
A park ranger had appeared there, and he was meandering among groups of people, inviting them to a night hike he’d be leading later in the evening. I asked him about the critters we’d seen, and he said that there were families of both otters and minks living along that stretch of the river. What we described to him (especially the white patch under each chin) sounded like mink.
I always take field guides when we go camping, but I usually take the wrong ones. For example, I might have birds, trees, and insects, when what we really want to identify is a lizard. Or, I could bring along trees, insects, and wildflowers, only to be helpless in identifying an odd bird. This time I decided to suck it up, deal with the weight, and bring all the field guides. Therefore, I was well-equipped with birds, trees, insects, spiders and their kin, reptiles and amphibians, AND Peterson’s First Guide to Common Mammals of North America. Turning to the page on minks, I was thrilled to read that their behavior, habitat, and markings (including a distinctive white chin patch) exactly matched what we had seen. So now I can honestly say I’ve seen and been seen by a mink family. How fun.
Back at C-41, I chopped potatoes and onions and put them in foil packs for Scott to cook with the steak. We never buy steak. Well, we buy it when we go camping, which is usually two or three times a year. Jessica and I were in the grocery a few days ago to buy camping groceries, including steak. I guess I’ve been living in a bubble, because I thought the cheap, tough stuff would be about $2.99 a pound and the good stuff would be maybe $4.99 a pound. Boy, was I wrong!!! $4.99 was the low end, and they went up to $14.99! Yikes!
We hemmed and hawed and tried to figure out what to buy. I finally settled on two packages (total: seven nice-sized cuts) that said, “griller’s choice.” I think they were around $6 a pound. I know that it was well over $20 worth of steak, which seemed like an awful lot, but then it was nothing compared to steak for six at a restaurant. I hoped they would be good.
By the time I finished with the potatoes and onions, the steaks were thawed, and I noticed that it was beginning to cloud up. Scott wasn’t around right then, but the fire was going. We were waiting for it to burn down to the right condition for grilling. I sat down to read a book. The book was riveting, and it wasn’t till the thunder started that I realized it was about to rain. We all did our “quick, grab the bag chairs and anything else that shouldn’t get wet and cram it all under the porch awning” routine, and just as we completed the task, down came the rain.
It was a hard rain; hard to see through and heavy enough that it almost flooded our campsite. That lasted some 15 minutes before lightening to a steady normal rain. The fire was nearly out (just smoldering) and all our extra wood was soaked. Scott could see that there would be no grilling of steak that night, so he started to get the propane stove going to heat up the leftover spaghetti casserole I had brought for the third night.
I was not happy about that and urged him to go ahead with the steak. I knew that if we didn’t cook those potatoes and onions tonight, we’d end up with what we had last camping trip – rubber steak and black potatoes! While Scott went to the bathroom, I persuaded Josiah to nurse the fire back to health. He did a great job. In a little while, he had a great blaze going. An hour later than we had planned – but who cared? we were camping – we ate the most delicious meal of steak, potatoes, and onions I’ve ever had. It was SO good, and between the six of us, we ate every bite of all seven steaks.
This morning I saw a hummingbird at my feeder on the porch. He didn’t stick around long, but at least now know he and his kin are back in the neighborhood. Once the hummers arrive, I always have to resign myself to the definite fact that we will NOT be getting any more snow this season. Sigh.
However, my tomato plants are doing well in their barrels, the seeds in the bed around the mailboxes are coming up, and the shade-tolerant flowers I planted in the bed around the tree in the front yard are also looking good.
I would love to write more, and there’s plenty to say, but right now I must discipline myself to get my deskwork done. You see, there is deskwork (checking math, proofing papers, recording homeschool hours, filing mail, recording ministry donations and writing thank yous, paying bills, planning lessons, etc.) and there is deskplay (blogging, surfing, looking for great deals on used books, etc.)
At this moment I am playing, but I should be working. Hence, I must stop here for now.
