... with my head on my desk for an hour.
And now I have a stiff neck.
I'm going to bed. Cya tomorrow!
Cabin with a view.
Seen in the alleys and lanes last week:
No, I'm not going to subject you to all 36. But I could. Easily.
Sunday afternoon, we went to Boundary Bay, as usual, but this time turned north, away from the park and the populated areas.
The tide was very low; it seemed, almost, as if we could have walked across the bay to the Surrey side. And all that expanse was dedicated to lugworm (Abarenicola pacifica) poop.
Try the following trick: poke a finger into a burrow hole, and see if water springs up out of another hole, showing that the two holes are connected by a common burrow.
Looking for photos of lugworms (for my next post), I re-discovered WaveLength Magazine, a kayaker's mag. The lugworm page was not what I wanted, but "leafing" through back issues, I found this interesting photography assignment:
"Before you leave on your next trip, you should take 36 photos of an egg."An egg? Why an egg?
"Think about an egg. An egg can represent many things. Whiteness, fragility, birth, food, purity, growth—these are some themes of “eggness.” Your assignment: take 36 different pictures of that egg. There are no other rules. Better yet, get a couple of friends to do the same exercise, and share your results."Anyone want to try this? Let's compare notes: post your results in your own blog, and add a link in the comments here or on my egg post (in a couple of days).
. Thanks, Cis! You made my day!
"Let's go look for flowers in Beach Grove," Laurie says. Well, it's warmer down there, one block north of the US border; maybe it was time.
The cliff face from White Rock to Kwomais Point is steep, high, treacherous and prone to mudslides. That hasn't deterred the residents of the upper slope from making tracks to the beach; walking the railroad tracks at the bottom, we see trail outlets at every little gully or creek mouth. Some are private, some public, some well-built, railed paths and staircases, some just a few boards or logs jammed in the muddiest spots, some foot-paths made by running and sliding teenagers. On the way down, trails or staircases from the individual houses above angle across the slopes to join the main routes.
None of these trails are mapped. None are visible on Google maps; the trees above hide them.
We have been driving down each short street and alley off Marine Drive, scanning the gaps between houses, looking for a way down. Our latest find, last Thursday, is at the dead end of Terry Street (one block long).
199 solid steps, railed, and a long, sometimes steep trail.
This is a lousy photo; my camera protests at the difference in light and dark; the houses above in full sun, aimed at from the dark of the ravine. But it gives an idea of the terrain. This was from about 1/2 of the way down. The bare patch on the right is a mudslide scar. Laurie has scrambled across the blackberry canes to the creek; off the trail.
Not very pretty. Looking back up, anyhow. Tangled, scrubby bush, overrun with blackberries, dry and brown at this time of year.
But look down!
Quite a bit more climbing to do, and then the blue ocean.
On these slopes, the trees, alder, pine, birch, etc., adopt fantastic shapes, lop-sided and broken. Several had recently fallen across the trail and been chain-sawed out of the way. In a couple of spots, the trail was sprinkled with sawdust from woodpecker carpentry too far above to locate.
Outside my bedroom window, Wednesday morning:
We hiked down another set of steps to the White Rock beach today (well, yesterday, since it's well past midnight now). 199 steps down, plus a steep trail, 199 steps up, plus ditto. I am too tired to blog about it at the moment. Tomorrow, I'll have the goods.
How to clean your computer's screen.
And I had just used Windex and a micro-lint cloth! But this method is so much more ... simple? ... labour-saving? ... No; "thorough" would be the right word; an intensive, deep cleaning, cleaning from the inside out.
... I don't want them in my carpets. Nor in my sweaters. And definitely not in my insect collection.
I dusted and vacuumed my collection corner today, and later found this beetle walking up the wall. It was just a dot, like a fleck of dust, but when I looked closely, I could see a hint of legs. A varied carpet beetle, Anthrenus verbasci.
Food: The larvae of this pest will feed upon a great variety of animal and plant products, such as carpets, woolen goods, skins, furs, stuffed animals, leather book bindings, feathers, horns, whalebone, hair, silk, fish manure, and dried silk worm pupae. Also it will attack plant products such as rye meal, cacao, corn and red pepper.Well, they're welcome to any dried silk worm pupae or fish manure I have around the house (none), but not to my book bindings, nor anything else on that list.
(From PestControl Canada.)
Carpet beetle controls include eliminating the beetles by cleaning or destroying infested items (clothing, food products, etc.). Often, the source may be difficult to find or there may not be a single source. A major part of carpet beetle prevention and control is thorough vacuum cleaning to prevent the accumulation of lint, hair, and other carpet beetle food materials. ... Pay close attention to areas where lint accumulates (corners, baseboards, shelves, etc.). Be sure to dispose of the contents of the vacuum cleaner bag after you clean. Clean or dispose of infested clothing, cloth, blankets and other fabrics. Freeze-treat small items such as ornaments and fur toys by placing them in the home freezer for a week. Periodic brushing and sunning of stored fabrics is helpful in prevention and control.I noticed today that the vacuum cleaner I have been using does not deal very well with the edges, at the baseboards. And that's where the eggs will be. Looks like I'll have to dig out the old monster with the good crevice tool.
Store fabrics that contain wool or other animal fibers only after they have been brushed and cleaned. Storage in tightly sealed chests or storage closets is recommended. Cedar chests provide protection only for fabrics that are initially free from carpet beetles and clothes moths. Moth crystals,flakes or balls can be used...
I have a tiny backyard, in deep shade, and sandwiched between a 3-storey building and a line of evergreens hiding a public foot-path. It's not prime birding territory, and I consider myself extremely fortunate to have the patronage of my small flock.
I have 2 feeders, with an additional bowl that I set out when the weather is atrocious. There's a bucket of assorted bird seed hung on a post; the juncos and a pair of squirrels mainly use this. Sometimes a fox sparrow or two joins in; mostly they just pick up the handful of seeds I throw under the shrubbery.
The other feeder is my own invention; a home-made pop-bottle feeder full of black oil sunflower seeds. I've been using one of these for about 10 years, and it has never failed to attract the chickadees.
I've posted this photo before, but it shows the feeder in operation:
More gleanings from our stored photos; these were from a few summers ago.
Laurie, out biking, takes a break in a park, and discovers a runaway. (Should that be "flyaway"?)
... plus a few extras.
February 15th, the first day of the Great Backyard Bird Count, turned out to be cold and rainy, so we stayed home and did our observation through the windows. Still, Laurie counted over 60 pigeons at dawn, and in the afternoon, a varied thrush, braver than he usually is, foraged in plain view at the edge of the lawn for a good 10 minutes. So we had something to submit. Tomorrow will be better.
The GBBC website has the 2008 Photo Gallery already loaded up with current submissions. One birder caught a Cooper's Hawk in an unusual pose; go look.
And on to bird blog posts:
Hugh, at Rock, Paper, Lizard, writes about The Stately American Coot, including a description and photo of "The ultimate act of coot contempt."
More not-so-polite bird antics: Julie Zickefoose tells us of The Rising of geese, and "a patter of warm goose poop."
Well, since I'm on the subject, I may as well link you to this;
from Sagehen News, a Local Mystery Solved
and this, from Hugh, again; A late winter walk to a beaver pond, with rodent droppings .
Enough? Change the subject? Ok, Snail's Tales has a series of great photos of slugs; Limax maximus mating .
Life is messy, and sometimes ewww-making. But consider the alternative; GrrlScientist reports on the findings of research scientists from OSU studying Oceanic Dead Zones off the Oregon coast.
"Thousands and thousands of dead crab and molts were littering the ocean floor, many sea stars were dead, and the fish have either left the area or have died and been washed away."The killer? Oxygen depletion. And the cause; global warming.
"We seem to have crossed a tipping point," Lubchenco observed. "Low-oxygen zones off the Northwest coast appear to be the new normal."
Blue skies! Warm sun! Delightful! We hurried down to Crescent Beach.
The tide was low, and we walked along the water line almost to the end of Blackie Spit. At a creek outlet, a heron was catching fish (2 while I watched), several crows were begging him, noisily, for scraps, and a mallard pair, side by side and rarely moving, lay head under in shallow water. Something tasty must have been in that creek mouth.
In deeper water, the divers were fishing. Buffleheads and Barrow's goldeneyes, dressed to the nines, and a solitary loon. On the spit, seagulls mobbed a lone walker, evidently with goodies in hand.
But there were others, lying doggo; out of sight.
As we approached the pier, I heard the pigeons coo-coo-cooing. There were none on the railings above, so I inspected the supports from underneath.
Perfect pigeon perches! Out of the rain and hidden from the eagles and hawks that patroll the spit. Each beam held at least one bird. And this one had a nest built:
The water comes up pretty close to these beams; the pilings supporting them are encrusted with barnacles to about a foot below. It seems like a damp and awkward place for a land-based bird to raise young.
From the top of the pier: the board at the top is the edge of the deck.
... well, ginger, at least. The "Venus" part is debatable.
Found today in Kin's Farm Market:
A chunk of ginger root.
... Heart of Stone. Not the thing for Valentine's Day.
Found at Mud Bay, last summer.
Left where I found it.
Rainy day bug blogging:
If I can't get outside because of the weather, I can always bring the outside in. I went to the edge of the garden and collected a cupful of topsoil, brought it in and inspected it.
It's still too cold for baby slugs and spiders, but the springtails were swarming. I popped them under a bright light and aimed the camera at them.
Aren't they cute?
No eyes.
Here they are, on 1/2 inch of water.
Comes the mist ...
On the way home yesterday, taken while driving.
As planned, we went antiquing. And it was a rainy, misty, rainy, foggy, rainy day. But I managed to sneak in a bit of birding, anyhow.
And what a haul! At least two dozen separate species of birds, some lifers, several previously undocumented species or variants! And quite a few blown well out of their normal migratory routes, as well.
The antique show is held on the outskirts of Abbotsford, in farming country. Every time we've been there, so far, we've seen eagles perched in the trees overlooking the parking lot. This time, I was ready for them, camera in hand.
So, no eagles. Nary a one. And it was raining steadily, to boot.
We're off early tomorrow morning to the "Cabin Fever" antique show in Abbotsford, a one-hour drive if the weather's good. Which it won't be.
So I'm off to bed now. Full report tomorrow.
(And yes, I know it's spelled "geoduck". But that's what it sounds like.)
I have been a turtle collector for many years. I started out with Mexican hand-made turtles, in pottery, onyx, obsidian and glass, then branched out into live turtles (mostly rescued from road crossings), then hand-made turtles from around the world.
So when my kids find a cute turtle somewhere, they buy it for me. My son brought me a carved wooden monster a couple of years ago.
He had found it in a garage sale, on sale for 25 cents, probably because the wood was splitting and had rotted away towards the tail. It's a big one; just under 2 feet, nose to tail.
He's beautiful, but he didn't look right to me, somehow. Not quite turtle-ish enough. The neck is far too long, for one thing, the carapace too peaked, too rugged, too slim. He looks sometimes like a slug with a growth on his back, sometimes like a geoduck with eyes. I didn't know what to make of him.
Until today. Over at Rock, Paper, Lizard, Hugh relates his hair-raising adventure with a snapping turtle that had a whole camp terrorized. (Go read, then come back here.)
Reading his post, I realized that he was describing my geoduck/slug/turtle. Long neck, long enough to reach to his back to bite you? Check. Ugly? Check. "Formidable beak"? Check. Stegosaur tail? Check.
Since the weather is still behaving miserably, Laurie and I have continued cleaning out old files and boxes. He's been looking at old black-and-white photos; I've cleaned out my grandkids' toy box and re-arranged my bedroom dresser drawers. And we've filled the storage area with stuff to take to the MCC thrift store.
Since I'm now in the mood for "oldies", I am posting some very old photos from my Bella Coola album. They are not the best quality; I took them with one of those ancient Instamatic cameras, back in the early 1980s, but one of these was "favourited" on Flickr, so I have hopes that you may enjoy them, too.
Bella Coola, for those who didn't see my series on it last year, is some 300 miles north of Vancouver, as the crow flies (600 miles by road: we drive north 300 miles, turn left, and drive west, back to the coast, for another 300). We lived there from the late 70s until the fall of '85. For most of those years, we lived in a snug log cabin and raised kids, animals, and most of our own veggies.
Pink
Yellow
White
And all the colours together.
I've been working on the innards of the blog today, updating, tidying, monkey-wrenching. The "house" is a mess, and I've got my hands full of tools.
So, no pics today. Why don't you go on over to Andrea's place, instead; she's hosting the 29th Circus of the Spineless, and she's got all kinds of goodies for visitors. There's a post on finding ant nests with Google Earth, and a great soup recipe that nobody wants to try, on Snail's Tales.
Well, it's back to work for me. Come on back tomorrow; I'll have the kettle on.
At last! The sun came out and stayed out; most of our snow melted. The ice in the bird bath thawed around the edges. We grabbed our cameras and headed for the beach.
Very few people were out; it is still quite windy and chilly along the shore, even in direct sunlight. The birds had the water to themselves.
New buds.
I just had to show you these three last banknotes. Laurie picked them up around the same time, same place, but these were either pre-war, or produced by the pre-war governments.
A couple of differences stand out: first, these notes do not carry the Japanese lettering that the banana dollars do, no matter what language they were printed in.
And second, they do have serial numbers.
The dour queen, Queen Willhemina of the Netherlands, on a one rupee note for the Dutch East Indies. And a bit of a tongue-twister in two long words, "Nederlandsch-indische gouvernementsgulden".
King George IV of England, on a Malayan 10-cent note. In English and, I'm guessing, Malay. An oddity about this bill is that the backside is completely blank.
And King George, again, on an Indian one rupee note. Look at this one closely.
Frontside, I think.
And backside. I was intrigued by the white area, framed so nicely with flowers and trim, but blank, front and back. I held the bill up to the light, and there was George!
He's sandwiched in the centre of the paper, invisible except this way. (To photograph him, I propped the bill against my desk lamp, with a tissue behind to soften the glare.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back to the fruit bills; I think the $1 bill has a fig tree and a coconut palm, the $5 bill shows coconuts and papaya, and the $10 has bananas and breadfruit flanked on either side by coconuts. I could be wrong; I am open to suggestions.
During WWII, from 1942 to 1945, Japan occupied a fair territory of South East Asia, including part of China, down through Thailand, Indochina (Vietnam), part of Burma, Malaya, and so on, as far south as New Guinea. They invalidated all the currencies of the area, and issued their own equivalent. The new paper bills used the languages and units of each country occupied, but were "guaranteed" by the Japanese government.
