Silene Latifolia

Among my finds yesterday were a geocache in bad need of TLC (which I provided), a trail I had never been on before, and Silene latifolia (White Campion), an introduced species which nonetheless occupies a soft place in my heart. Why? I don't really know, except that it was one of the first plants I learned to identify. As for the trail, I only went up it far enough to find the geocache because I was actually on my way home, cold and tired following a caching CITO event, and because from that point on, the track began climbing Osborne Mountain on a sharp incline I didn't feel up to tackling. It was on my way back that I found the Silene, its slender, long leaves telling me "latifolia." I like it when the Latin is informative. All in all, I'd say it was a nicely productive day, and the Osborne Mountain trail and I will have to have another discussion in the future.

Candy Canes in June

Today was the annual geocaching CITO in which we set up the platform tents in the volunteer campground at Longmire. I always watch for the mycoheterotrophic species here, and was rewarded with a lovely cluster of Allotropa virgata, aka "Stick Candy," which looks like peppermint sticks. I don't think the handful of people I collared en route back to the picnic pavilion were expecting a botany lesson, but y'know, I just couldn't help myself. This plant is among my favourites, not only because it's pretty and unusual, but because it survives in spite of incredible odds. First of all, it requires the assistance of a specific fungus for breaking down soil components into something it needs, that fungus has its own set of requirements. Some mycoheterotrophs are more "sociable" than others, which is to say they rely on a wider range of fungi, but in my experience, the rarity of a plant seems to correspond to the number of fungal partners it is willing to accept. Ah, to be fifty years younger, and to have it to do all over again! Mycoheterotrophy fascinates me like nothing else.

Garden Cart

I've had this garden cart for several years, and it only just occurred to me that instead of lugging plants in and out of the house morning and evening, I could just put them in the cart and wheel it into and out of the garage while I'm hardening them off for planting. I'm going to take a chance and put them out later this week, although our nighttime temperatures are still dipping into the low 40s. If I have to, I'll put protective covers on them if there's a threat of frost. What you see here includes two Sungold tomatoes (a friend calls this variety "tomato candy," and I have to agree), one zucchini (no one needs more than one), an eggplant (experiment!), and four peppers (two sweet and two jalapeno). Given how well my other plants are doing, this year may well be the best garden I've had in the 35 years I've lived here!

Columbine Collection

The flower bed beneath my east window is the prettiest it's ever been this year with many plants in bloom all at once. Even though the peonies are past their prime and the delphiniums having retired of their own volition after 35 years of service, the whole bed is a live with colour as displayed by the columbines. This old-fashioned favourite provides a backdrop of foliage even after the blooming season is over. Trim the flowering stems back, leaving graceful mounds of leaves, and save the seeds! I've never managed to sprout them successfully indoors, but several have re-sown themselves in the garden. There's no such thing as too many columbines.

Sculptured Pine Borer, Chalcophora Angulicollis

There are times when discovery gets a little too exciting, for example, when you come in the house after working in the yard, scrubbing at an ear because a gnat is tickling you, only to find a much larger...significantly huger and ginormouser bug walking casually around your neck! This Sculptured Pine Borer (Chalcophora angulicollis) was easy to identify because of its size: a full 30mm by actual measure. That's one big bug! After knocking it off me and taking photos of it on the hearth, I contained it in a lidded petri dish long enough to assure myself of the identification. I think I must have disturbed it yesterday when I took out some old cedar fencing. There are no pines in close proximity, and it was not designated invasive or introduced, so after Merry had thoroughly investigated the petri dish and was contemplating releasing it himself, I let it go outside.

Nålbinding Slipper-socks

With everything else I've been doing, this Crow-original nålbinding project went by the wayside, and I really hoped to get it done in time to put in the Puyallup Fair. But wait...! There's a problem. I can't find a Division to submit it under, let alone a Class! Obviously, it doesn't belong with Knitting or Crochet, and the closest I could come was an "Other" classification under a catch-all which seems primarily dedicated to embroidery. I even contacted the Fair, but they were no help.

So, lemme tell ya, that braid was a pain in the neck! I quickly discovered that the instructions I had for making it were not going to work well, so I designed another way to apply it, working each strand of the braid separately. Even that was a nightmare! I took the third row out of one sock twice before discovering that the reason it wasn't twining correctly was because I'd made a mistake in the second row. That experience taught me to run a "guide thread" through the legs of the braid to keep track of where I was supposed to weave over/under. But aren't they adorable? I think they were well worth the work.

Towel Day 2026

Do you know where your towel is? "...any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the Galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through and still know where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with."

I resisted the draw of Douglas Adams' books for many years, but when I finally gave in and read them in order to find out what the hoopla was all about, I found myself caught up in his web of words. Admittedly, sometimes I questioned his possible relationship with mind-altering substances, but there was something in his mad verbal meanderings and the (at times) nonsensical and tangential interludes in the books which had a magnetic appeal. I identified deeply with Arthur Dent, the hapless human in a situation clearly not of his own making, who craved desperately for one item of normality: a cup of tea amid the chaos. There is much in "A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" which is relevant in modern times, so I ask you again: Do you know where your towel is?