Closet Whovian

Day 298: A couple of months ago, I caved in to peer pressure and started watching Doctor Who, beginning with the 2005 series. I had some background on the premise and wasn't sure how I was going to take to a show where the main character changed rather frequently, and grilled my friend Kevin as to whether or not subsequent actors were able to successfully portray enough personality traits to make it believable. On his assurance that I would "see" the Doctor in each regeneration and that the one villain I knew something about would recur, I decided to give it a go. I am happy to say the series did not disappoint. I liked Christopher Eccleston as the Doctor and had no trouble adjusting to David Tennant's assumption of the role. Best of all, there were Daleks: "Exterminate! Exterminate!"

Now this is quite a leap for an old Trekkie. Initially, I had a hard time believing that any series could hold a candle to Star Trek, but my other favourite (Farscape) proved to be a strong competitor for my loyalties. I liked the fact that Farscape's story was an on-going one, unlike Trek's stand-alone episodes. Many of the episodes of Doctor Who appear to be isolated stories, but subtle hints dropped here and there begin to stack up to a larger plot. I haven't quite pulled Farscape down from its pre-eminent position nor dropped ST:TNG below second place, but Doctor Who is definitely running a strong third. I will save judgment until I've survived another regeneration. For right now, I'll say that David Tennant's "slightly mad from having seen and done so much" Doctor will be hard to lose.

Woodland Skipper, Ochlodes Sylvanoides

Day 297: "Hey, Crow! What are those cute little orange and brown moths with the weird wings that are all over my dandelions?"

I hate to break it to you, but you're wrong on both counts.

In the first place, those foot-tall "lawn daisies" which plague our yards and shoot up stiff, tough stems from a basal rosette of leaves resembling harsh-textured velour are Cat's-ear (Hypochaeris radicata). In the second place, that ain't no moth. It's a butterfly. How can you tell? The easiest way is by looking for club-shaped tips on the antennae. Butterflies have them; moths have feathery antennae. However, this little fellow's wings don't seem to fit the familiar profile for either, and because he's fuzzy, many people mistake him for a moth. In fact, he's a Woodland Skipper, Ochlodes sylvanoides.

When in "alert mode" (i.e., preparing for take-off), many Skippers exhibit a distinctive wing position peculiar to the species. The hind wings are held flat and the forewings are held at an angle to the body. Imagine the Skipper in the photo with only its hind wings spread. At rest, the wings are folded as shown. The odd morphology allows Skippers to dart about and change direction quite quickly.

Having Skippers in my yard by the dozen isn't simply entertaining. It gives me the perfect excuse to leave the lawnmower in the garage. They really like the Cat's-ear, and who am I to deprive a cute little butterfly of a treat?

We Can Dance If We Want To

Day 296: "We can dance if we want to / We can leave your friends behind / 'Cause your friends don't dance and if they don't dance / Well, they're no friends of mine." That was what I thought when I saw this grasshopper waving at me from the sidewalk. The words, of course, are from "The Safety Dance," a Men Without Hats pop song my younger readers probably won't recognize. The lyrics are an excursion into the surreal, not quite nonsense but definitely not unintelligible, promising levels of hidden meaning which invite the listener to theorize from their own perspective. Me, I just think they're silly. That brings us 'round to my motto for life: The world needs more silly. Go dance with a grasshopper. It'll do you a world of good.
 

Thanks to the entomologists at BugGuide.net, I now know that this is a Crackling Forest Grasshopper, Trimerotropis verruculata suffusa.

Zip Trip Adventure

Day 295: Four of us met at my house this morning in time to be first through the gate at Northwest Trek, lining up to purchase tickets for the zip-line Adventure Course, second only to the Sensation Course in terms of difficulty. I'd completed the Discovery Course last week and was ready for something a bit more challenging. Ian was an old hand at zip-lines, and Maureen was excited by the prospect of a thrilling ride. Her cousin Kathleen might not have had quite as clear a picture of the day's agenda, but was game to try something new. Standing at the base of the first obstacle, a 30-foot climbing wall, she may have had some doubts. Maureen led the way, followed by yours truly, then Ian, and then Kathleen came up and was met with our cheers of encouragement.

Ian reaches the top of the wall

There were some suspension bridges to cross, each one gaining a bit of altitude between platforms, and there were also cargo nets to clamber through. The course is just that: an obstacle course. Over the next hour and a half, we'd progress from the easier challenges to tougher ones, with six different zip-lines up to 650' in length to give us a break from our physical exertions. Trust me, climbing through cargo nets on an incline isn't easy, especially when there's a gap between two of them on the way to the next platform.

Kathleen in the double nets

Previously, I'd been told I couldn't take my big camera with me, so today I brought along my little Sony point-and-shoot. If the photos aren't up to my usual standard, blame the camera!

As mentioned earlier, the difficulty in surmounting the obstacles increased as we worked our way through the course. I've tackled some pretty scary suspension bridges in my day, so those didn't bother me. However, swinging steps were something new, and I would have gotten through more easily if I'd remembered to check if there were stoppers on the cables before proceeding across. Clipped in, I got the carabiners stuck on a stopper, and then had to back up a step (yes, backwards!) to free it.

Swinging steps

The only other real problem I encountered was the tightrope. Although I'd breezed through an easier version of it last week, I tackled this particular challenge a little too directly. Halfway across, I did an unintentional pirouette. Maureen, waiting in the wings and gathering her courage, must have felt it falter just a little as I regained my balance. Ian crossed behind me with the grace of a dancer, and then Maureen followed suit. It was her most uncomfortable moment on the course (as it was mine).

The tightrope

Finally, two long zip-lines took us back to solid ground. There may have been some touchy moments, but not a one of us took a fall. I handed my camera off to Ian so he could get a shot of me zipping home. This course was both fun and exciting!

As the Crow flies

Lace And Lavender

Day 294: Silly as it seems, I had to remind myself that I wasn't growing lavender as a feature in my flower bed, I was growing it as a crop to be harvested. After making half a dozen lavender bottles (lavender wands), I wanted to make sachets, so picked several bouquets, cleaning the buds from the stems as they dried. I chose a wide glitter-dotted voile ribbon for the sachet fabric and hand-stitched it into two-inch pillows which were stuffed to the max with fragrant, lovely lavender; functional to be sure, but not particularly esthetically pleasing. They needed fancying up with some hand-made lace.

Initially, I'd planned to tat the edgings, but tatting cotton is getting terribly hard to find these days, at least in the #80 size I prefer. I dismissed crocheting as too coarse and common. Bobbin lace? "Little Hearts" from Geraldine Stott's "100 Traditional Bobbin Lace Patterns" is one of my favourites, but it meant that I would have to reduce the number of repeats for a handkerchief edging to one suitable for my sachets. That was easy enough to do, although it did mean making a new pricking.

"Little Hearts" takes 12 pair of bobbins and one gimp thread. I used sewing thread for the lace although it's a bit heavy for bobbin work, because the colour selection can't be beat. The gimp (the heavier thread outlining the hearts) is #8 perle cotton. The lace for each sachet takes approximately six hours to complete, time I spread out over several days, working on other projects in between bobbin binges.

I'm almost done with my fourth edging, and when it's done, I plan to make a few with finer white thread and variously coloured gimps just to have on hand for gifts. Who knows? You might even find a bit of bobbin lace in your Christmas stocking this year if you're good!

Fuzzy-Wuzzy Was A Phacelia

Day 293: We've all had an experience where we saw someone we were sure we recognized, but couldn't remember where we might have seen them. It happens quite frequently when that person normally wears a uniform and we encounter them in street clothes. They're out of context, effectively disguised as a civilian.

A few days ago, a Parkie friend stopped by to drop off some salad greens she'd grown, and I took advantage of the occasion to show her my garden which, incidentally, isn't at its best right now, thanks to another round of 90° temperatures. As we reached the kitchen end of the east bed, I pointed to the plant in the photo and said, "Don't ask me what that is. It was the only thing which sprouted out of a packet of 'bee flower' seeds."

She looked at it thoughtfully and replied, "It looks kinda like Phacelia."

I said, "Yeah, I thought so, too."

Well, d'uh! I know Phacelia. It's a common plant in our subalpine meadows. Ours are either blue or white, and are easily recognized by the long stamens. That said, they are not something I think of as a "garden plant," and therefore it never occurred to me that my "bee flower" (a favourite with the Bumbles) could be a tame variety of the Phacelias I see in the Park. Indeed, the leaf of this particular one is definitive. It is Phacelia tanacetifolia, the "Phacelia with tansy-like foliage." It just looked different out of uniform.

A Taste For Cilantro

Day 292: Of all the things they have to choose from in my garden, the Honey Bees (Apis mellifera) and several species of tiny non-aggressive wasps and flies seem to be particularly attracted to the cilantro (coriander). On the other hand, the Bumblebees are drawn to Phacelia, the only plant to grow from a mixed packet of "bee flower" seeds I was given by a friend. I had let one batch of cilantro bolt accidentally, but when I realized it was drawing pollinators, I allowed the rest of it to run its course. As a bonus, it looks like I'm going to have lots of coriander seeds, both for cooking and for saving over to plant again next year.