One Step Closer To Real Internet

Day 4: As of yesterday, I moved one step closer to being lifted from "third-world country" status and toward having access to true internet. Friends are always surprised when I tell them that my top speed with Century(blankety-blank)Link is supposed to be 768 kbps...yes, that's a K...but I seldom approach half that. It takes five or ten minutes every morning just to connect via CenturyLink's crap service, and then I have to deal with slow page loads. The new service will be through our electric company, although the work won't be completed until some time in the coming year. Yesterday, they tunnelled beneath the road and installed a vault for the optical cable they'll be running later. It was fascinating to watch the digger operation. The machine shoots a jet of water into the soil, and then sucks it up, rocks and all. I presume it works its way around big ones, but I did see one melon-sized one brought out and laid aside. The crew will be back today to finish up this phase of the operation here, moving on to do the same thing up and down the line. Even if it costs more, I am looking forwward to the day when I can tell CenturyLink to take a flying...um..."leap through" a rolling donut as I join the real world on line.

Some Is Better Than None

Day 3: "Some is better than none." I use that phrase frequently when I gather less of a comestible than I'd hoped (usually mushrooms), or when I find myself with only a few inches of thread left from a project. This year, I got six figs, the first my tree has borne to ripeness. Likewise, I will have harvested exactly six kiwis from my small-fruited hardy vines when all is said and done. The first two were delicious! The remaining four will probably reach ripeness today or tomorrow. Some, albeit a scant few, is better than none. I think this tiny harvest was kept at a minimum by several factors, most notably spring weather which went from scorching hot to freezing, cycling between the two for the better part of April and May. The vines produced only a few flower buds and even fewer flowers. That said, the fruits which did develop prove that the plants are indeed "self-fertile," but a lack of pollinators also played a major role in keeping berry production at a minimum. Maybe next year's crop will be better, but in any event, "just enough to fill my hollow tooth" is better than none at all.

Refreshing!

Day 2: A few days ago, I mentioned that there were very few lichens which grow on cedar. I should have specified live cedar, as opposed to ancient cedar fence rails and long-dead stumps. For some reason, old cedar (presumably that which has released almost all its volatile oils) is very prone to developing lush and diverse colonies of Cladonias, Platismatias (several shown in the photo), Parmelias and Usneas as can be witnessed on a brief walk around my yard. Three weeks ago, these lichens were so crisp, you could have crumbled them between your fingers, dry as bones and brittle as sugar-glass. A little rain and cooler temps restored them to full splendor, and in no time, some had begun to fruit (one of the Cladonias above shows its brown apothecia, the fruiting bodies of the species). Autumn and winter are refreshing times for lichens!

Abhorrence

Day 1: Nature abhors a vacuum. Crow abhors a mistake. Having finished the birds cross-stitch, I decided to work on making a small hardanger wall ornament on which to display Dorset buttons, and it has become a serial nightmare. It started badly. I wasn't happy with the colour, wasn't happy with the weight of thread I'd chosen. I cut the stitching off at least half a dozen times in the process of working out how I wanted it to look. Once I finally settled the issues of colour and weight, I made no end of miscounting errors in the buttonhole stitching outlining the piece. After sorting that out, I realized I'd set the design too high on the scrap of cloth I wanted to use up, and didn't have enough to turn for a rod pocket, but I was so far into it that I decided to keep going and turn it into something else. I thought everything was coming along nicely until I turned the final corner and discovered that if I continued, I'd have 21 threads on one side of "middle" and 22 on the other. I counted. I counted again. I counted several different ways. I couldn't see where I'd made the mistake. Thinking I might have messed up in the planning phase I'd only done mentally, I charted it. No, I should have had 21 stitches on either side. I counted again. And again. Somewhere in there, there's a mistake, and I can't find it. Now I have two choices: cut the stitchery off the cloth, or throw the whole bloody thing in the bin. I'm 'bout ready to opt for the latter choice.

Footnote: Found and fixed!

Almost Missed The Boat

Day 366: I very nearly missed the boat with respect to gathering Shaggymanes. I knew I should have gone hunting them earlier, but last week got away from me somehow. When I visited Coprinus Corner a few days ago, most of them had already turned to ink. In the hopes that my second patch would still have a few fresh ones, I started up the hill, but found myself facing a new "No Trespassing" sign within a quarter mile. Sigh. I've lost many good mushrooming spots to logging, development and "strip-mining" by commercial pickers over the years, but never before to a sudden announcement that an area where I've gone walking many times has become private property. This also means that one of my favourite loop hikes is no longer possible. With a great sadness of spirit, I returned to Coprinus Corner and did an intensive search, finally coming up with enough Shaggies for a pitifully small bowl of soup.

Stack O' Pancakes

Day 365: Following on the heels of the aurora borealis, another phenomenon put on a spectacular display yesterday morning: lenticular clouds over the summit of Mount Rainier. While this is much more common than aurorae, it never fails to awe. Sometimes, the Mountain just puts on a hat, a single lenticular worn like a sombrero. Other times, it presents...well, when I threw back the curtains at dawn, I said, "Wow! A whole stack o' pancakes!" I've lived here almost 35 years. I still went running out to capture the scene with the camera from a position where I could avoid telephone lines, poles and a butt-ugly political sign. Visitors to the area often pull over here to take pictures of the Mountain whenever it's visible, even when there is no alpenglow or cloud formation to photograph. It's the only spot along the road where the Mountain can be seen. That said, the Mountain looms large over much of the Pacific Northwest landscape, and friends in Eatonville also had "pancakes" for breakfast on this fine, crisp morning.

Red Aurora

Day 364: It may not have been nearly as spectacular as that seen in other parts of the country (notably New York and New Hampshire, where my sisters-of-the-heart enjoyed a much more colourful and intense display), but I am happy to have seen the red aurora mounting over Elbe Hills last night around 8 PM. It seemed to last about half an hour from the time I began observing it before it began to fade. I checked again between midnight and 1 AM, and there was nothing. The camera captured more colour than I could see, but even with the naked eye, the rosy glow was evident. If the phenomenon persists into the night tonight, I suspect incoming clouds will prevent me from seeing it again.