Superior Ovaries

Day 322: Clintonia uniflora (aka Queen-cup or Bead-lily) has superior ovaries. No, no...I mean like they're really on top of it. No, wait...I mean the ovary is on top of the petals! Are we clear on that now?

Do you ever get the feeling that even though we speak the same language, we sometimes aren't the best at communicating what we mean? Scientifically, a "superior ovary" is one which develops above the petals in the traditional botanical four-part whorl arrangement of sepals, petals, stamens and stigma/style/ovary. Conversely, an "inferior ovary" occurs below the sepals/petals (an example would be the winged ovary of a begonia flower). "Superior" in this sense means "above," "inferior" means "below." However, someone unfamiliar with botany might think that I was speaking in reference to the plant's ability to reproduce successfully rather than describing the arrangement of its reproductive parts.

Communication is not always as simple as saying what's on your mind. A single word or string of words may signify something entirely different to different people depending on their backgrounds. Semantics (the selection of a word based on a precise definition, its placement in the word-order of a sentence, and sometimes even the euphonic resonance of its syllables) is the science of verbal exchange, and unless everyone is on the same page (i.e., from similiar verbal backgrounds), the message can go widely astray. The wise speaker chooses words to suit the audience. A "nicely tanned skin" might refer to bathing-suit cheesecake or to a cozy, curly fleece rug. I know how I'd be most likely to use the phrase, but do you?

And here you thought this post was going to be about botany! Not to disappoint, it has taken me a very long time to find and photograph Bead-lily's solitary blue bead. Some little critter seems to think they're very tasty. Out of several hundred plants I checked, all but half a dozen had had their "beads" bitten off neatly.

Patience Corner, Pieced In Post

Day 321: Before I could start on my next quilt, I needed to make a test block of "Patience Corner" in order to see how it should be assembled and to check whether the dimensions would satisfy my eye. My first attempt used up most of my own print scraps and yielded a 12" block which seemed rather too big and clunky, so I solicited additional fabrics from a friend to make a downsized version. The 10" block was satisfactory (the squares are 2.5" on a side, the rectangles 5" x 2.5"). For my readers' benefit, I replicated the finished block in post, rotated it accordingly and pasted it to create this four-block mini-quilt (the blue border is not part of the plan). The actual quilt will be made with four themed colours: green, purple, blue and aqua (?). Each colour scheme will have two variations, i.e., the print fabric used for rectangles in V1 will be used for squares in V2 and vice versa. The solids will be the same in both V1 and V2 for each colour, and will abut in the center (shown as four red blocks in the photo). I'll piece the blocks on the machine, but again, I plan to hand-quilt it. Hopefully, it won't take me twenty years to get this one done!

Summer's End

Day 320: Massed Morris sides danced the sun up on May Day, and last night Sound & Fury, Misty City, the Mossyback Morris Men and the Morris Offspring danced it down at Alki Beach in West Seattle, symbolically closing out the summer. It was a beautiful setting for a performance, and concluded with a processional with members of all four sides circling the down-scaled representation of Lady Liberty which overlooks Puget Sound. We still have several more gigs coming up over the next two months, and although we're taking September off from practices, we'll resume the drill in October at our indoor venue on Phinney Ridge. There are new dances and songs to learn, ale and cider to be drunk, new friends to be made. This is the celebration which is Morris!

Helluva Hive

Day 319: Let me state for the record that there is a 50' stretch on the eastern shore of Lake St. Clair which I did NOT check for invasive weeds, sundews or lichens. I think I heard this before I saw it; in any event, something made me look up to where it was hanging, almost concealed by cedar boughs 15' above the surface of the water. Only then did I notice the flurry of activity around and on it, dozens/hundreds of paper wasps engaged in their daily chores. By far the largest nest I have ever seen, it would have filled a two-gallon bucket easily, probably 14-16" in diameter and 20" tall. It was a magnificent piece of architecture to be sure, but like the works of Frank Lloyd Wright, best appreciated from the long view.

Pirates In The Plaza

Day 318: Although yesterday's "Pirates in the Plaza" event in Washougal wasn't quite what I expected it to be, it was good to be in the company of some of the Pacific Northwest's most notorious (if to me nameless) scallywags and scoundrels. I had thought the gathering would be more along the lines of the Portland Pirate Festival with vendors hawking garb and weapons, displays of nautical gear and art, and a welter of buskers to fill in the voids between stage acts; a venue packed with activities and things to look at (if perhaps not buy). This it was not. Nor was it a bustling place packed with pirates of various ilk rubbing shoulders with one another in their go-to-shore best kit, although enough of us were costumed to give the group some flavour. However, if you could put aside the shortfall of atmosphere, there was entertainment to be had (not all of it in period) and sea shanties to be sung, occasional conversation to be passed amongst captains and crews, and one or two engagements may have required skilfully planned action in the interest of avoiding confrontation. There was cannonfire and swordsmanship, grog and song, and best of all, there were Morris dancers. Let's hear it for Renegade Rose! Huzzah!

Pirate's Hideaway

Day 317: There are very few places where a small craft can be beached on the shores of Lac de Ste. Claire, and the hideaway of a certain notorious pirate certainly looks like an unlikely harbour from the water even at close range. It is set in deep shade, and although its particular shingle permits access, navigation into its protection is difficult to say the least, the line of course obstructed by deadheads of various shape and size. Only the most experienced helmsmen venture here, and only the most intrepid explorers go beyond the sanctuary afforded in its most immediate shelter. An ancient cedar stands as gatekeeper, ready to repel intrusion with its weaponry of sharply honed branches. The tangled lands beyond the shore are habitat for the most fearsome and enormous banana slugs known to exist, defended against all comers by the combined forces of well-armed nettle and blackberry.

Indigestible Bits

Day 316: Although the principle reason for my recent kayaking adventure was the removal of Spotted Jewelweed, no trip to Lake St. Clair is complete until I've visited my kids, i.e. the Sundews which occupy the logs adjacent to one homeowner's dock. Jack (the homeowner) knows me by sight now, and this time came out to ask, "How're they doing?" "Just fine, Jack," I replied. "They've been eating well and they're going to seed now." I went on to explain that I've been keeping tabs on them since early spring, watching them progress from initial emergence from hibernation through their blooming period. It was interesting to note how thoroughly they're managing to digest the abundant damselflies; only the gauzy wings are left behind, the "chicken bones" of Drosera's summer picnic (seen here most easily at top center). Even as I watched, a damsel made a fatal mistake, stepping from the safety of a blade of grass onto the sticky glands of Drosera's paddles. Its feet became entrapped immediately, another meal to sustain the Sundew colony.