pameladean: (Default)
I have hikes to write up, but seem to have no inclination to actually do so. [personal profile] yhlee kindly gave me three words.

Before I get to them, I want to say that if I gave you three words and you found them uninspiring, just say so and I'll pick three more.

Butterflies

I love seeing butterflies in their season. I'm not as attached to them as I am to dragonflies, but they are beautiful, and they give me a sense that, at least very locally, things are more or less right with the world. I like to look for the mourning cloak and red admiral ones in the spring and I feel a weird throttled hope any time that I see a monarch. In recent years I've learned to identify the hackberry emperor and the silver-spotted skipper. Raphael and I saw several of the skippers at Wild River State Park last week, at the Sunrise Landing. The hackberry emperors were all over Montissippi a year or two ago. Raphael could identify the butterflies and I could identify the trees -- the butterflies were, somewhat surprisingly, actually all over a grove of hackberries -- so that was a pleasant collaboration. A few summers ago, or maybe only last summer we saw a great many giant swallowtails at Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge. Those are magnificent. And at Sherburne in the fall of last year we saw part of the monarch migration. In the afternoon they were floating about all over the vegetation, and at dusk there were even more clinging to the trees. I kept thinking a little oak sapling was covered with dead leaves and then realizing that it was dozens of monarchs, opening and closing their wings in the last of the light.

Napkins

If I am going to have actual cloth napkins, I prefer really old soft linen ones, even if they have ineradicable turmeric stains on them. That said, the only story about napkins I can think of comes from Noreascon 3, the 1989 Worldcon in Boston. David was involved in a fairly ambitious photo project run by friends of his (ours). This was to recruit photographers to document many aspects of the convention and turn in their work to David, Scott, and Sally, who picked out the good ones, made them into slides, and put together a slide show of the entire convention to be shown at Closing Ceremonies. The slide show was great and seemed to be much appreciated. David didn't get much sleep and I didn't see much of him, but at least I always knew where he was. In any case, the room where they were working generally had some uncollected room-service items in it, since they mostly didn't have time to leave to eat. I helped a little with packing up everything at the end of the convention, and in the frenzy I ended up using some hotel napkins to pad fragile items. These went into a box or bag of some kind, went home to Minneapolis with us, and were unpacked quite some time later, when we realized we had inadvertently stolen one dark-red polyester napkin and three pink cotton or polyester-cotton napkins from the hotel. I think I thought we'd go through our stuff when we stayed with Scott and Sally for a few days after the con and retrieve the napkins at that point, but you can imagine easily enough how that never happened. I should have laundered the napkins, popped them into an envelope, and returned them, but that never happened either. I still feel vaguely guilty whenever I catch sight of them.

Spinach

I like spinach and have even grown it. Curly spinach collects an incredible amount of dirt while growing, it's really amazing. One of the people I cook for doesn't like raw spinach, which limits the uses I can make of it, though of course there's nothing preventing me from making myself a salad of it and nomming it all. That aside, for years vegetarians were warned off of spinach because the oxalates in it prevent the absorption of calcium and iron. Raphael and I have largely gone over to kale for this reason; you can put kale in most dishes requiring spinach and it will take longer to cook if it's mature kale, but it tastes fine, and it doesn't get slimy the way spinach does if you look at it sideways. I've also used mustard greens to replace spinach in some dishes. But sometimes I just give in and eat it. It has other nutrients in it and baby spinach is much easier to deal with than huge crinkly greens that are full of sand. I once clogged up the kitchen sink by washing mustard greens. Technically that was just the last straw, since the whole line was clogged and putting plain water down it would probably have had the same result not much later, but my brain still associates mustard greens with the sink failure. I've tried to look up recent research on whether spinach is really a serious problem for calcium absorption, but results were mixed.

P.
pameladean: (Default)
[personal profile] lydy has given me the following words to play with:

Geodes. When we lived in Nebraska, several times we drove to a place I don't recall the name or location of, but it was rich in small fossils and also in geodes. It was completely unshaded and rocky and dusty and barren, and you walked along sweating until you saw a dark lumpy round thing, which you then picked up. Sometimes we broke them open on the spot and sometimes we took them home and did it. I did not have the knack of choosing good ones, and never got the coveted purple crystals, but I did get one or two very small ones with white or clear crystals. I think I still have one somewhere.

Cardamom. I love the taste and smell of cardamom but haven't used it much in cooking. Raphael used to make a roasted carrot dish that used it. I just ordered some online because it's curiously hard to find in the places where I get my groceries. The coop usually has some in the bulk spice section, but they were out. I think of it as a dessert spice primarily, but I actually ordered it to put in a vegetable curry I want to try, if I can remember where the recipe for that was. I had been assuming it was in Made in India, which I was given for Christmas and have been cooking out of intermittently ever since, but I haven't tracked it down yet.

Elephant. I am actually too sad about the fate of elephants at the moment to write about them. But I will retell the story of how Eric and I got a very close look at an elephant seal because we had been firmly shooed away from the official elephant-seal viewing, which was by reservation only. I was visiting him in the Bay Area, before he moved back to Minnesota. It was a rainy day, so we decided to drive slowly down the coast and stop if the sun came out. It did so just as we saw the sign for Ano Nuevo State Park, so we pulled into the parking lot, only to be stopped by somebody in a uniform asking if we had reservations to see the elephant seals. We did not, of course, and said so, whereupon we were told firmly NOT to go to the right or down along the beach, where the group walk to see elephant seals was being held. We could go to the left and wander among the dunes if we wanted to.

We read some signage about elephant seals and dutifully set off in the direction indicated to us. We ended up following a little stream that meandered, as streams do, down to the ocean. We figured this was okay, since we were going the wrong way along the beach from the one intended for elephant-seal viewers. But one elephant seal had not gotten the memo. Asleep on the sand just the other side from the stream from us, in an increasing drizzle, was a young male elephant seal. He snorted and snored. Once he jerked awake, considered us, shook himself, rolled over, and went back to sleep. I had a camera and began to take photos, but the camera, an old Epson that David had handed down to me at some point, stopped working at that precise moment. It would automatically open the cover over the lens and extend the lens when told to, but it stuck partway through this process. I assumed it was the drizzle, but David thought that unlikely; it was just an old camera, and perverse in the way that inanimate objects sometimes are.

We stared at the young elephant seal with its imposing bulk and its goofy short flexible trunk until it stirred again, and then crept quietly away.

If you want three words from me I'll be happy to provide them; and if anybody wants to give me three more words, I'll be happy to write something about them.

Pamela

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