Archive for April 2006

Take a little trip

April 29, 2006

Take a little trip not with me, but with former boss and master of scatalogical discourse David Churbuck as he blogs his business trip to China. I went to China a bazillion years ago, late 80s; it was one of the major destinations I wanted to get to in my lifetime and I did it. Everything's different: the food, the color of the earth, the smell in the air. At the time I was there, most everything ran on coal — I bought a sweater because it was cold, and that sweater is infused with coal/China smell. I've never thrown it out, and every once in a while I unpack it just to bury my nose in it. The smell takes me right back to China, to Kunming wandering around (I think) Green Lake Park in the morning watching people do tai chi, and the old men who bring their caged songbirds with them to hang on a tree limb while they sit looking over the lake and the birds sing. You'd keep that sweater too.

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Listen up, birdie people

April 22, 2006

This is a great site — The Language of Birds.

Like:

  • why birdies sing at dawn and not so much at dusk (It is a cold time of day and the prey of the insect feeder is not yet active.)
  • do birdies listen to each other? (a whip-poor-will, on a slowed-down recording, sings 5 notes, not 3; a mockingbird, also taped then played back slow, sings a 5-note mock — not the 3 notes we aurally challenged humans hear)
  • another English mimic bird was tracked to a very specific summer spot in Africa because it picked up the song of a bird found only in that area of the world.

Great stuff now that the great migration is just about to make our mornings grand.

A Fishing Thought

April 15, 2006

Annual tradition with Husbando's family: First Day of Fishing in Connecticut. So you know where we're going today. I will post pictures of the event later, as I'm sure the world needs to know.  But first, a fishing thought:

When fishing for really big fish:

big fish fishing

people wear t-shirts, shorts, maybe deck shoes. They're after say a 50-100+ pound fish.

When we go freshwater fly-fishing in New England, we wear hats, polarized sunglasses, neoprene or breathable waders, felt-bottomed and sometimes cleated boots, special shirts with lots of pockets, fishing vests bespangled with junk like a Christmas tree: 

Fishing stuff

And we're after a 6-inch fish.

What's that all about?

PS: As long has I'm wearing a vest, I figure I'd wear a vest (courtesy LLBean):

Bean's girlie fishing vest

Cymbidiums — in bloom

April 2, 2006

Okay, make that cymbidium in bloom. Only one of the ingrates bothered this year. And after all I do for them — move to a drafty, unheated farmhouse for them, give them a glorious summer outdoor vacation in the Grotto di Orchidae, leave them til just before frost, then trundle all nine pots back upstairs to the unheated front room. And this year I only get one plant to bloom. Still, I can't complain; isn't he pretty?

 Cymbidium 06

But how come last year when we were renovating and all the cymbidiums huddled in the front room with no water and no attention and lay for three months up there through one mighty cold winter covered with construction dust — then they bloomed up a storm?