Saturday, March 29, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
The NYT had an article this morning describing the mass-deaths of bats that are occurring in the US. "In what is one of the worst calamities to hit bat populations in the United States, on average 90 percent of the hibernating bats in four caves and mines in New York have died since last winter."
Apparently over three species of bats are dying in record numbers in their hibernaculums (winter resting places): little brown bats, Indiana bats, and small footed bats. Unsure the exact reason and causes for the deaths, scientists are referring to the phenomena as 'white nose syndrome'.
What do you think? What's killing off all our pollinators?
Also, I'd been looking for a reason to use Montage-a-google. Just enter your search word and the program compiles linked images.
This is the result from searching for "Bats".
Monday, March 24, 2008
(typed with a white-trash southern accent) So I got me one of them sitemeters (stop accent, it's too annoying). I’ve always thought my own little blog was read by only my sister, my pen-pals, and my guy. But apparently, dear lurkers, there are quite a few of you.
I was kind of hoping that they would all be referred from 20 something bloggers. But no. It made me so happy to see the familiar and expected from Redlands, Carbondale, Oulu, and Chicago. But why were there so many from Memphis? The people I’d always assumed were reading were significantly absent, as well. Where’s the hit I expected from the middle of the ocean? (Where my aunt and gparents are now, on a cruise). Where’s the traffic from the fam in Missouri? Why, oh why are there so many from Memphis?
I’ve been struggling with the idea of internet anonymity lately…. maybe I should learn some. What do you think? (and, my lovely lurkers, you’re welcome to answer as well. Though to do so might cause you to disappear in a poof of logic).
Saturday, March 22, 2008
I found this group of bloggers the other night called 20 something bloggers. So far, I've already found another blogger in my hometown (hi Laura!) and with a population of only 25,500 that's quite the feat. I've found so many interesting blogs I hardly know where to start reading. And they're all so honest. I don't know if I can write with that kind of honesty here, but seeing how well it works for others, I just may give it a try.
And weirdly, I feel pressure to step-up my own blogs, make them as interesting as the ones I've been finding.
Maybe I'll take one of their prompts, or memes, or whatever the hell the word might be, and use that as a jump-start for creative blogging.
But, if I'm going to do any writing, it really ought to be for the two term papers hanging over my head that are making breathing and writing and eating and waking up the most stressful events. I'm a little stress ball.
I need to find a man and a woman this weekend to interview about 'what it means to be a man' or 'what makes a good man'. Unfortunately, it seems I only have guy friends, and when asked that question they do NOT respond well. My co-worker laughed and ran away. My buddy responded "Hotdogs. Hotdogs and beer". and then refused to say anything further. And while I like his answer I can't turn "Hotdogs. Hotdogs and beer" into a workable paper.
So, when I finish this and take a shower, I'm going to start writing about Women in Agriculture. Or maybe about the urban community garden I worked with in Memphis. Or maybe I'll send out those emails I've been meaning to... or I'll dick around with photoshop and read endlessly entertaining blogs.
I've had this turning around in my head for a while: if you like snarky, self-obsessed, highly privileged, wine drinking, book reading, needy, verbose, acerbic, witty, debt building, and culture humping blogs, then 20 something bloggers is for you.
(I fit most of those.)
Thursday, March 20, 2008
I needed something from Rural King. Dog-food, I think. Amelia has a corn allergy which means if I do not buy her ridiculously expensive food she chews on herself.
Do you know about Rural King? Its a small chain in the Midwest USA, and (unfortunately for how this reflects upon me) usually has that strange or obscure item I cannot find anywhere else.
This last trip I even found something goofy for my treasured pen-pal (also the author of Pretty things I see). I won't say what yet because she reads the blog (hi!) and, by the way, she's one of the few people who read this blog that also leave me comments. (HINT, HINT).
I have always loved feed stores, something you might not expect from a lifetime vegetarian, but they hold such possibility with the seeds and the food and the tools, and they smell so good!
I've loved going to the ancient feed store, Dillingers, since I was a kid- it's a tiny, darkly lit little store in the old part of town that still has brick streets an hardly no one goes to. Dillingers has an old wood burning stove and the dusty, earthy smell of hay and grain and old wood. Each year near Easter they would have a box of hatched chicks for sale. My mom never let us get one, she always said the coyotes would eat it and I would feel bad when they died. Which was an accurate assessment (and she almost never said no to new pets, so I didn't pitch too much of a fit).
But anyway, I was at Rural King, which is vaguely like the Wall-mart version of Dillingers, when I spotted a horse trough with live chicks in it.
I don't really like chickens- they're usually pretty mean- but the babies are so adorable, even as they fight and poop and lay in their food.
As I was shooting pictures a rural man and his father pushed their shopping cart up, and the man said "Oh, lets stop and look at the baby chicks".
Both men smiled down at the chicks, and the older man said
"They sure are purdy".
Seeing me, the younger man cracked a joke, "I'll pay a dollar for 'em when they're big enough to eat".
I really think this was for my benefit, so that I would know he's a man, and would never see chicks as 'just' cute.
But he did think the chicks were cute, and so did his dad. And none of us were under any illusions as to how the chicks would ultimately end up. I can relate with those chicks. Born, raised and devoured in Southern Illinois. OK, OK, I'm not devoured. But nibbled, at least.
Of course, I won't always be here, its just that I feel as tied to the land as these adorable fuzzy flightless birds. And, well, we are cute as hell.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Monday, March 03, 2008
Ode to the cold/flu:
Body aching, nasty medicine taking,
My tissue is soaked and obscene,
Head throbbing, I’m so close to sobbing,
This cold is really quite mean.
I’m cold, I’m hot, I’m tired, I’m snot,
I know I have work that is due
If only tomorrow were not so filled with sorrow
For I know I will still feel like poo