Slithy Toves

"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogroves,
And the mome raths outgrabe."
from Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll

Ever seen a slithy tove? Here's one -



Ok, ok, it's really a skink, a Five-Lined Skink to be precise. But whenever I spot a skink, I can't help but think of the poem Jabberwocky and all the made-up words Carroll throws about in those few stanzas. For one thing, the word "skink" seems to fit right in with the other nonsense words. (The entire poem is fun to read aloud to oneself or to others. I recommend you try it soon.) But I also just think that these wiggly, shiny creatures look like what a slithy tove might be. What do you think? What's your favorite nonsense word in Jabberwocky?

Five-Lined Skinks are common across most of Missouri. I think this particular skink may be a male because his stripes are not very visible. Females have visible stripes and a bluish tail. Young male Five-Lined Skinks have a bright blue tail. That feature makes it really easy to identify its species. Apparently the colorful tail helps protect the young skink from aggressive adult males.

The skink in the photo was sunning himself on the garden tool shed. He stayed still long enough for me to snap his picture, then gimbled hurriedly into the grass and I lost sight of him. He was probably heading off to the borogoves, leaving me to wonder if the mome raths were outgrabing yet.

Poetry, nature. Fact and fiction. Let it all in. Each day can be an adventure.

A Garden Junkie Goes to Heaven

For myself and 300+ like-minded people, heaven was in Iowa this past weekend. Decorah, Iowa to be precise, way up in the northeast corner of the state. Enthusiastic gardeners from across the country gathered at the Seed Savers Exchange Heritage Farm for the annual conference. The Heritage Farm is a magical place, a showcase for heirloom flowers, vegetables, fruits, and even livestock. Spending the weekend here gives gardener/seed savers the opportunity to connect with each other, swap seed, attend workshops, and to explore the display gardens, trial fields and orchards.




Tucked in a tree-cloaked valley, Heritage Farm is the heart of this network of seed savers who are passionate about growing and preserving the genetic diversity of plants. No matter how often I visit, it is always a treat for all my senses to wander through the plots of flowers and veggies. I always come away with new ideas for growing strategies and a few more "must try" varieties added to my already lengthy list of tomatoes and peppers.









In addition to plants, the Heritage Farm has a herd of Ancient White Park Cattle, a rare breed. Fifty calves were born this season, and on a hay wagon ride out to their pasture, we got to see some of the calves cavorting among their mothers. As all young creatures do, they were busy exploring, so it was hard to snap a photo that wasn't blurry.



Several breeds of poultry also live on the farm in the growing season. The chickens with the kooky headdresses were fun to watch but I thought the Chinese black ducks and the grey hens were especially beautiful.








The annual conference also features a wide variety of workshops presented by knowledgeable speakers. I learned something in each of the four workshops I chose. In one of the workshops I attended, author/gardener Rosalind Creasy explained how and why she dug up a 100 square foot patch of her lawn and raised $700 worth of fresh produce from it.



Meals at the conference are another treat. It goes without saying, everything is fresh and organic, and there are tasty selections for both vegetarians and omnivores. This year's conference marked the thirty-fifth anniversary of the Seed Savers Exchange. Check out this birthday cake at Saturday's supper. On top of being a culinary work of art, it had moist layers of pumpkin and chocolate - delicious!



All in all, it was a marvelous weekend, stuffed with enough "food for thought" (sorry, I couldn't resist) to keep me motivated for quite some time. Oh, and Decorah, for being a small town, has a lot more to offer in addition to SSE, but that will have to be another post.

Exposure, Part 2

Late yesterday afternoon the rain stopped and it seemed as if the sky was going to clear. I decided to hike down to the woods to get some more photo practice. Somewhere in my mind's recesses I knew that it would be wet down there and that after all the rain we've had this summer, the understory plants would be growing like mad. But these vague mental musings became mosquito-biting reality as soon as I reached the gate.



Not only was the undergrowth lush, wet and thick, but the creek which is normally a lazy trickle, was rushing over the crossing. It looked like a true creek, water tumbling along, with burbling, refreshing sound effects.



I wasn't in the mood for bushwhacking through a sloshy jungle, so I took a few shots at the edge of the woods and turned back to the pasture. Close to the woods is an old skeletal pick-up truck. It always attracts me with its jumble of parts and rusty surfaces, so I played around with the camera's exposure settings and various angles of the truck.






Within minutes, thunder rumbled and drops started to fall. I leaned into the driver's side of the truck for one last shot and quickfooted it back to the house.

After loading the photos onto the computer, that final shot made me laugh. It's such a mishmash of colors, textures and shapes. I'm already thinking about it as inspiration for some weaving. Just goes to show - you just never know where a muse will pop up!

Exposure

Last night was the first meeting of a digital photography class I'm taking. Our assignment for the coming week is to play around with the settings on our cameras. Today's stormy weather has been an excellent chance to learn how to get a little more out of my camera. Between downpours I've been snapping shots in the backyard, changing the EV and ISO settings, and taking notes as I go. I'm already excited about being nudged out of my Automatic comfort zone. Here's some of my homework from today.

Purple Coneflowers



Daylily



Narrow Leafed Green Milkweed



Daylilies and Reflection at the Edge of the Pond



Another Daylily Variety



For all of these photos I experimented with exposure settings and was pleased to learn that I could make the colors of the flowers "pop" and darken everything around the flower by choosing my own levels. It may be that my mood was influenced by the stormy surroundings, but I especially liked the brooding darkness of this pond photo.



Of course, it would be very informative (and fun even) to practice adjusting settings on sunny days too - if one ever comes round again ...

Watching You Watching Me

After dinner last evening I went out to the garden, hoe in hand, to plant some cucumbers and dill along one of the arbors. As soon as I started to work the soil, I saw this little guy looking up at me from the other side of the arbor.




I'm not knowledgeable about toads so I don't know his proper name. But I do know toads are welcome in my garden. As far as I can tell, they do no harm to my plants and they eat unwelcome insects and slugs.

He watched me as I hoed the soil, watched me tuck the cucumber seeds into the dirt, watched me cover the seeds and tamp the dirt lightly with my rake. The entire time he just looked up at me from his little hole, not even blinking. (Do toads have eyelids? I couldn't tell.) Only his elastic throat expanded and contracted.

After I finished planting, I went back to the house for my camera and took a couple of pictures of friend Toad. Then I just squatted there and looked at him for a bit. Some people might find toads "icky" or gross. If you take some time to really watch them, you'll see their skin is a patchwork of browns, tans and greys with a mottled texture. This toad's skin had lots of baggy wrinkles, almost like an elephant's on a very small scale. Toads don't leap up and growl at you. Mostly they just want to be left alone to dig their little holes and catch a tasty meal. Seeing this toad watch me so steadily for so long, I couldn't help but wonder what he was seeing and what went on in his brain. Mentally I wished him well and thanked him for adding some extra pleasure to my evening in the garden.

Raspberry Reverie

They're back! Rubus strigosus. A little bit sweet, a little bit tart. Dusky red when ripe and oh-so-fragile. Careful! Don't squeeze 'em when you pick 'em. An antidote to summer's swelter. Red raspberries.



Our bushes are a variety that begins to bear fruit in June. At first it's a modest crop and the berries are pretty small. I like to call them nuggets. Every few days we can gather several cups of them.

Here's a recipe for Raspberry Nuggets -
Take 10 to 12 nuggets.
Make a cup of your hand.
Pour the nuggets into the cup.
Open your mouth.
Toss the nuggets in.
Chew slowly. Let that delicate flavor play on your taste buds.
Smile.

In addition to this recipe, I put the berry morsels in yogurt, on granola, in my morning oatmeal with maple syrup, and, oh my gosh, on buckwheat pancakes. Right now there are even enough raspberries to make a pan or two of my Ruby Slipper Brownies. Brownies are always a treat but the berries take a starring role in these.

Come September the bushes usually kick up production and the berries get larger and more numerous. You have more to show for your picking time. But I'm in no hurry. A bowl of these lovelies every few days is enough to keep me in smiles for the next month or two...

Lettuce Leaves and Swallowtails

Thunderstorms rolled through this morning. Our rain gauge collected one and a half inches in the past 7 hours. About 15 minutes ago the sun appeared, so I ventured out to the garden. We obviously had pounding rain because a couple of my tender tomato plants are broken and all of the salad greens are flattened to the ground. I think (or at least hope) they'll revive in a day or two. But luckily I picked a huge basketful yesterday so we can still have salad with dinner tonight.



Isn't it curious? There was a time when iceberg lettuce was the ubiquitous lettuce in the grocery stores and restaurants. Now however, our lettuce choices are nearly as extensive as our yarn choices. I always plant several tried and true varieties - Green Ice, Red Sails, Oak Leaf, for instance. But I also try something new each year. This year the newbies include Red Salad Bowl, a burgundy red leaf with a smooth flavor and Blushed Butter Oaks. It's appropriately named. The ruffly light green leaves have a faint blush of red on the edges, and its flavor is, well, buttery-delicious!

After surveying the garden damage, I took advantage of the clearing sky to get a photo of one of my knitting works in progress - the Swallowtail Shawl by Evelyn Clark.



The yarn is from Alpacas d'Auxvasse, a hand-dyed laceweight blend of 90% Suri alpaca and 10% merino wool. I'm using size US3 needles.

Now that the garden is demanding lots of attention, my knitting projects are moving along slowly. In the case of this shawl, that's just fine. It's too hot and sticky to even think about wearing a warm, fuzzy shawl. But I know I'll be happy to have it when the seasons change once again, and colorful just-picked salads are only a photo in my garden journal.