Happy New Year!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
A Long Line of Anal Retentive Shovelers
I was thrilled to be in the middle of some snowy weather on my trip! I even got to go sledding. Of course, this also meant I was additional shoveling labor for those I was staying with. My first stop had lots of snow and people who were too busy to really fret about it. They have a big tractor too, and I suppose that can solve pretty much all snow problems in rapid fashion. Next stop saw a dusting turn to 6" which required some maintenance of the walkways and unplowed areas. Getting the snow off was the name of the game and I was laughed at for trying to get the driveway clear to the pavement...it was then that I realized I was pulling a Dad.
Well, my final stop taught me that shoveling perfection is not only one generation deep--instead, I come from a long line of anal retentive shovelers! As the snow turned to wintry mix (my least favorite New England concoction), I periodically broke away from the Patriots game to clear the porches and sidewalk. No problem. A short time later, wintry mix turned to rain and made the snow impossibly heavy to move. The trouble was, I could not be outdone by my octogenarian Babci who had decided she needed some fresh air. So, shovel to the pavement I did, until I was soaked and my biceps were about to pop. The best part was that Babci was out there in her high heeled fashion snow boots--the least functional winter footwear I could imagine--and she seemed to be enjoying herself!
Well, my final stop taught me that shoveling perfection is not only one generation deep--instead, I come from a long line of anal retentive shovelers! As the snow turned to wintry mix (my least favorite New England concoction), I periodically broke away from the Patriots game to clear the porches and sidewalk. No problem. A short time later, wintry mix turned to rain and made the snow impossibly heavy to move. The trouble was, I could not be outdone by my octogenarian Babci who had decided she needed some fresh air. So, shovel to the pavement I did, until I was soaked and my biceps were about to pop. The best part was that Babci was out there in her high heeled fashion snow boots--the least functional winter footwear I could imagine--and she seemed to be enjoying herself!
I Got Licked By A Cow
With a load of work looming for January, I decided to sneak away after my final exam (which I think I passed!) for the wilds of the snowy north. Travel from our present spot on the globe to New England just couldn't be easier--no more 5 hour plane rides and strandings in various mid-country airports! I left home exactly 1 hr. and 15 mins. before my flight and still had time to park the car, get checked in, and enjoy (?) a cup of shwag airport java before my flight. A bit over an hour later, I was over Boston Harbor.
First stop was a few days on the farm. I consider myself pretty agrarian when it comes to gardening and landscaping, but animals (other than a nutty dog, a few squirrels, and some ornery raccoons, the latter two of which I'm not really responsible for) are not in my picture, despite my best wishes to acquire some hens. So, when on the ride north, I discovered I'd be palling around with a bevy of animals (more in the summer, but they're dinner now), I was pretty excited.
With the snow falling and the light fading, I got to assist as farmhand--which, really is not all that different from fish biology: you carry lots of buckets filled with water. Thankfully, I got to duck the stall mucking in favor of child care (which sometimes may not seem that much of a trade, but at this time was a favorable exchange). The next morning it was bright and sunny with several inches of fluffy snow everywhere, so I took another stroll outside and introduced myself to "Bob" and Buddha, two steers (not cows!). Before I knew it Buddha gave be a big old wet one right across the belly--he lifted up my 6 layers of down, fleece, and wool, and got me! The girly scream was perhaps unnecessary but hilarious all the same. Steers have raspy tongues! Funny dudes, these two are.
Also on tap was to check in on the ladies--17 hens of various colors, sizes and plumage--and pick up some breakfast. Apparently, according to the farmer, I must have lost the Easter egg hunt when I was a kid, as I left a few tucked-away, hidden eggs un-gathered. Ooops. Good thing for quality control. These are some fluffy chickens living in a pretty deluxe coop--and they must be happy because they lay lots of very yummy eggs! Apparently, I'm not the only visitor to the farm that got excited about collecting eggs, I guess I just need to hone my technique.
With a storm looming, everyone's plans were thrown into high gear and I had to say goodbye to Crooked Rainbow Farm--I will for sure be back!Of course, I couldn't leave before getting a few good runs in on the hill with the old flying saucer. The snow was perfect sledding snow and with the dogs chasing me down the hill, I let out another girly scream before filling my farm boots full of snow and lodging myself in a snow drift downslope.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
A Energy Ethic--Is There Hope Still?
An exam I'm writing had me pondering the finer points of Aldo Leopold's call (in 1949) to take up a "Land Ethic." I'm really not sure we're there (but read below, as I've decided my exam response-which was really an extra credit question-could serve double duty as pontificating blog post too). However, I got a bit distracted while writing that response and stumbled upon the news that Obama has assembled his environmental and energy team. After reading the article and doing a little deeper research, I am hopeful: I am thinking we may be headed toward an energy ethic.
This crack team (notably lacking any marine or biological scientists, I might add, not to diminish the credentials of the selected few, but to point out that it's still not perfect), will be headed by Dr. Steven Chu from the Lawrence Berkeley National Lab (who, while not trained in biology, has shown an increasing interest in biosciences in recent years). This guy is a smarty-pants. He won a Nobel Prize in Physics in 1997 and has written a ton, taught a ton, innovated a ton, and seems kind of engaging to boot (see video of him at the National Energy Summit). Additionally, he was a part of ScienceDebate2008, showing that science and public support of science is a priority. I hope, despite the falling gas prices and distraction of the flailing economy, that as we move into 2009 we will take energy efficiency, energy policy, energy dependence and more importantly, energy and non-energy science, in general, more seriously.
--------------
In “A Sand County Almanac” Aldo Leopold wrote of his observations of nature, the changes that had befallen much of the American West, and he culminated with his chapter “The Upshot,” a call to arms about what the future could hold, given a commitment to “The Land Ethic.” He wrote:
“An ethic, ecologically, is a limitation on freedom of action in the struggle for existence…In short, a land ethic changes the role of Homo sapiens from conqueror of the land-community to plain member and citizen of it…A land ethic, then, reflects the existence of an ecological conscience, and this in turn reflects a conviction of ecological responsibility for the health of the land.”
What Leopold was invoking was the need for each citizen to be a part of the land and to act accordingly as a steward—he observed that we saw the land too much as a commodity belonging to us and needed to view it “as a community to which we belong.” Leopold was a forester by trade and had seen the destruction not only to the landscape, but also to the waterways, resulting from poor agricultural and forestry practices. In 1949, when he published this book, he acknowledged a fundamental flaw of natural resources: that when the emphasis is put on the economic value of the land and the products we extract from it, comes detriment to the land itself. This was obviously before the era of off-road vehicles, large-scale industrial agriculture, and off-shore drilling, yet his message seemed as urgent and timely then as it seems now, 60 years later.
Sadly, we (the collective “we”) have not grabbed ‘hold of “The Land Ethic” of which Leopold wrote. The current spate of research and published papers describing “ecosystem services” (see Costanza 1997 and Balvanera 2001) in effect acknowledges our need to see the environment as a commodity in order to justify conserving, protecting, and restoring it. This is as true in the marine system as it is on land. Off-shore drilling, industrial fisheries, eutrophication and contamination of our coastal waterways are evidence of our continued role as conquerors rather than stewards.
Leopold wrote that “The ordinary citizen today assumes that science knows what makes the community clock tick; the scientist is equally sure that he does not. He knows that the biotic mechanism is so complex that its workings may never be fully understood.” Our role as marine scientists is to communicate to Leopold’s “ordinary citizen” that science doesn’t know what makes the community clock tick in its entirety, but that the discipline of science, in its compartmentalized fashion, is learning more and more with each question asked and it is the ordinary citizen’s responsibility to be as keenly interested in the “biotic mechanism” as he is in his 401K. Additionally, with this “biotic mechanism” changing so rapidly due to our actions, we must devote increasing efficiency to the pursuit of understanding, lest we have no land-community and water-community to write about in 60 years.
Balvanera, P., G.C. Daily, P.R. Ehrlich, T.H. Ricketts, S.Bailey, S. Kark, C. Kremen and H. Pereira. 2001. Conserving biodiversity and ecosystem services. Science 291: 2047.
Costanza, R., R. d'Arge, R. de Groot, S. Farber, M. Grasso, B. Hannon, K. Limburg, S. Naeem, R.V. O'Neill, J. Paruelo, R. G. Raskin, P. Sutton, M. van den Belt. 1997. The value of the world's ecosystem services and natural capital. Nature 387(6230):255.
This crack team (notably lacking any marine or biological scientists, I might add, not to diminish the credentials of the selected few, but to point out that it's still not perfect), will be headed by Dr. Steven Chu from the Lawrence Berkeley National Lab (who, while not trained in biology, has shown an increasing interest in biosciences in recent years). This guy is a smarty-pants. He won a Nobel Prize in Physics in 1997 and has written a ton, taught a ton, innovated a ton, and seems kind of engaging to boot (see video of him at the National Energy Summit). Additionally, he was a part of ScienceDebate2008, showing that science and public support of science is a priority. I hope, despite the falling gas prices and distraction of the flailing economy, that as we move into 2009 we will take energy efficiency, energy policy, energy dependence and more importantly, energy and non-energy science, in general, more seriously.
--------------
In “A Sand County Almanac” Aldo Leopold wrote of his observations of nature, the changes that had befallen much of the American West, and he culminated with his chapter “The Upshot,” a call to arms about what the future could hold, given a commitment to “The Land Ethic.” He wrote:
“An ethic, ecologically, is a limitation on freedom of action in the struggle for existence…In short, a land ethic changes the role of Homo sapiens from conqueror of the land-community to plain member and citizen of it…A land ethic, then, reflects the existence of an ecological conscience, and this in turn reflects a conviction of ecological responsibility for the health of the land.”
What Leopold was invoking was the need for each citizen to be a part of the land and to act accordingly as a steward—he observed that we saw the land too much as a commodity belonging to us and needed to view it “as a community to which we belong.” Leopold was a forester by trade and had seen the destruction not only to the landscape, but also to the waterways, resulting from poor agricultural and forestry practices. In 1949, when he published this book, he acknowledged a fundamental flaw of natural resources: that when the emphasis is put on the economic value of the land and the products we extract from it, comes detriment to the land itself. This was obviously before the era of off-road vehicles, large-scale industrial agriculture, and off-shore drilling, yet his message seemed as urgent and timely then as it seems now, 60 years later.
Sadly, we (the collective “we”) have not grabbed ‘hold of “The Land Ethic” of which Leopold wrote. The current spate of research and published papers describing “ecosystem services” (see Costanza 1997 and Balvanera 2001) in effect acknowledges our need to see the environment as a commodity in order to justify conserving, protecting, and restoring it. This is as true in the marine system as it is on land. Off-shore drilling, industrial fisheries, eutrophication and contamination of our coastal waterways are evidence of our continued role as conquerors rather than stewards.
Leopold wrote that “The ordinary citizen today assumes that science knows what makes the community clock tick; the scientist is equally sure that he does not. He knows that the biotic mechanism is so complex that its workings may never be fully understood.” Our role as marine scientists is to communicate to Leopold’s “ordinary citizen” that science doesn’t know what makes the community clock tick in its entirety, but that the discipline of science, in its compartmentalized fashion, is learning more and more with each question asked and it is the ordinary citizen’s responsibility to be as keenly interested in the “biotic mechanism” as he is in his 401K. Additionally, with this “biotic mechanism” changing so rapidly due to our actions, we must devote increasing efficiency to the pursuit of understanding, lest we have no land-community and water-community to write about in 60 years.
Balvanera, P., G.C. Daily, P.R. Ehrlich, T.H. Ricketts, S.Bailey, S. Kark, C. Kremen and H. Pereira. 2001. Conserving biodiversity and ecosystem services. Science 291: 2047.
Costanza, R., R. d'Arge, R. de Groot, S. Farber, M. Grasso, B. Hannon, K. Limburg, S. Naeem, R.V. O'Neill, J. Paruelo, R. G. Raskin, P. Sutton, M. van den Belt. 1997. The value of the world's ecosystem services and natural capital. Nature 387(6230):255.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
I am Thankful for McIntosh Apples
As I popped into Trader Joe's today to finish up the last of my Thanksgiving shopping (namely, The Bird) I stumbled upon a display of absolutely scrumptious looking McIntosh apples. I'm an impulse food shopper anyway, but this was really too much of a magnet to just bypass. So, I scanned the offerings and selected for myself a bag of bright red, modest sized McIntosh apples.For the uninitiated (all you West Coasties who just have to have your Cameos and Braeburns), the McIntosh is the quintessential New England apple, with a dark reddish skin, tender white flesh, and a pleasing crispness when fresh--additionally, they smell wicked good! For years living on the Left Coast, I have tried each fall to find a reasonably good McIntosh in the local markets, only to be disappointed by mealy middles and no sweet-tart bite. Like fresh haddock, I decided the Mac's place was firmly rooted in the Northeast and it was better to stick to the local varieties.
So, not exactly being in New England at the moment, I was prepared for more shattered apple dreams and broken apple promises. But, with my first bite delivering a resounding pop, I knew I had bit into the apple of my childhood! It seems Sunrise Orchards of Cornwall, VT had delivered!
So, in addition to everything else I am thankful for this week, the humble yet noble McIntosh Apple is high on my list. And I can once again savor it's fragrant, apple-y goodness each fall.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Is the Missing Carbon Wrapped up in Leaves or Dog Fur???
For years I have been convinced that the so called "Missing Carbon" in the global carbon pool was actually wrapped up in dog fur. The ephemeral nature of dog fur makes it exceptionally difficult to quantify the amount of carbon from this source; however, judging by the immense quantities of fur vacuumed up from various corners in our house and houses like ours, it seemed no doubt, a potentially significant contributor (disclaimer: I actually have no idea how much carbon a single strand of Canis lupus familiaris might contain). Fortunately, in our new abode, the fur tends to be masked by a carpet of a similar color, so my ability to ponder the finer points of dog fur and the carbon cycle has also been obscured.
But, looking out at our yard, I'm thinking tree leaves may be another under-represented carbon source. These leaves seem to be infiltrating our house every time the door opens ("entropy" MN says). Now, I know New England lays claim to the most beautiful fall colors, and having spent a significant part of my life in that region and forever maintaining a fondness for the little states, I'm not about to deny that. But, in sheer volume of leaves generated, I think my new adopted state may take the cake. Granted, there are a lot of oaks, which just don't hold a candle to the beautiful deep reds and bright oranges of maples, so while this fall was one of the most spectacular I've been in the middle of in the last decade, it was the quantity of changing trees in hues of yellow, gold, orange and brown (with the occasional bright red maple), that really captivated.
While many of my neighbors (including the National Park Service) have succumbed to the scourge of humanity known as a leaf blower, we went out and purchased a super-sized rake to deal with our problem. But, not being silly or inclined to do more work than is necessary, I'm not going to be the first on our block to rake up the earthy, decaying, golden-brown bits of carbon! That would be silly...because of entropy.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Smart = Cool?
Maybe being the Smart Kid will become cool.
Kristof said it better than I could in his most recent column, Obama and the War on Brains.
Kristof said it better than I could in his most recent column, Obama and the War on Brains.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Swinging No More...We're Blue, Baby!
My new adopted home state is, in fact, as blue as the great big sea.
With relief and gratification, I can sleep easily!
Congratulations, President-Elect Obama!
Cake by Obambastic baker, M. Dolan
Barack Hussein Obama was elected the 44th president of the United States on Tuesday, as the country chose him as its first black chief executive.
With relief and gratification, I can sleep easily!
Congratulations, President-Elect Obama!
Cake by Obambastic baker, M. DolanBarack Hussein Obama was elected the 44th president of the United States on Tuesday, as the country chose him as its first black chief executive.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Swinging For A Little Bit Longer!
I cast my vote a few hours ago and, yes, it felt good! No lines, no waiting and the Diebold didn't flip my vote so far as I could tell. It seems we're in Swing-State Limbo still for the moment, but things are looking good and Obama is in fact in the lead in what I figured to be this McCain stronghold of southern VA. Mark Warner pulled out a can of whoop-ass on Jim Gilmore for the Senate seat! Woohoo!
In other election news, bummer that Tom Allen couldn't unseat Susan Collins in Maine, but it looks like a few more Senate seats are going to the Dems with Tom Udall, Jeanne Shaheen, and Kay Hagan with early wins!
Hoping the West Coasters got out the vote and we can wrap this thing up as soon as the polls close on that coast!
In other election news, bummer that Tom Allen couldn't unseat Susan Collins in Maine, but it looks like a few more Senate seats are going to the Dems with Tom Udall, Jeanne Shaheen, and Kay Hagan with early wins!
Hoping the West Coasters got out the vote and we can wrap this thing up as soon as the polls close on that coast!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Bad-Ass Arachnid
I've been spending the last month or so watching this amazing spider build and re-build its web outside of a kitchen window. Given the perfect position of the web, my family members and I have been able to watch this thing in action for days on end...savage amusement. It is very cool to see how the spider intricately re-creates the web and the stabilimentum that zig-zag across it. I'm not 100% sure, but it seems like the yellow garden spider, Argiope aurantia, in the link above.
Yellow garden spider
Order: Araneae
Family: Araneidae
Genus and species: Argiope aurantia Lucas
Incidentally, I just checked The Other 95% for the first time in a few days and Eric did a post on a similar orb weaver...albeit one that's maybe a bit more nefarious than this dude (dudette?), who seems to dine mostly on midges and the like.
Unpacking and More Unpacking
We're now officially living in a Swing State. Movers dropped our loads of stuff off last week and we spent the weekend unpacking box after box after box--as far as I can tell it was mostly dog towels, toothbrushes, and lots and lots of packing paper.
These people were professional in their use of packing paper. There was not a thing that went unprotected (well, save for the fancy sushi platter, but oh well). Seriously, I unwrapped some whack things. First off, as I was unpacking the box entitled "Master Bedroom" I came across a rock wrapped in 3 pieces of packing paper. Yes, it was precious to me (I scavenge such items from beaches of note from time to time) but I am certain that years, probably millenniums, of ocean pounding did nothing to hurt that rock. Better yet, there were 4 more just like it, each individually wrapped. Awesome!
Next up came some surprises from the kitchen box: bamboo skewers and a used piece of aluminum foil...wrapped up like they were prized Fabergé eggs. And the winner: From the bathroom box, an ace bandage wrapped perfectly in multiple pieces of wrapping paper, sandwiched neatly between multiple toothbrushes in their original packaging, also wrapped up. Unbelievable. If I had been packing, that ace bandage would have been used to wrap up the prized sushi platter. Perhaps I shall take each of these items and construct myself a Halloween costume (of course, if it rains, my packing paper shell will be in a heap). The good news is that we found a user for all of these packing goods and so we won't be quite so hard on our local landfill or recycler (and yes, Williamsburg actually has curbside recycling, for free!!! We're still working on the clean green).
In between unpacking and making 300 trips up and down the stairs, we did manage a trip to the local Saturday morning Farmer's Market, which exceeded expectations: farm fresh meat, delicious oyster mushrooms, eggplants, arugula (still not sure it beats Nash's, but close!), herbs, and pies (we had to pass on the pies on account of our austerity plan, but there will be other occasions...). We also took a spin through the 'hood and liked what we saw, including some beautiful fall foliage. Things are looking good.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Haiku Hysteria
People for the American Way, a progressive social justice organization, ran a contest for the best McCain/Palin (a.k.a. McPain) haiku. Of the 4,000+ submissions, they've selected twelve gems for people to vote on, winners to be published in The Nation.
And my winner is:
And my winner is:
Dust thick on text books.
Evolution was a fad.
Science dead? You betcha.
— Laura Welch
Evolution was a fad.
Science dead? You betcha.
— Laura Welch
To see the rest of the best and vote for yourself (good practice), click here.
Friday, October 17, 2008
The Saline Canine Takes on Sandbridge
It had been a really long time since the Salty One had a good dunking and so we decided to make for the beach a few weekends ago to explore our new surroundings and let the pup accumulate some Atlantic Ocean copepods in her furs. Realizing that our new local beach was not nearly as liberal about free roaming canines as our former local beach, we looked around for the dog laws. It was a mixed bag—some said “No Dogs Allowed” and others said “No Dogs Allowed between Memorial Day and Labor Day.” Hmmmm. What was a responsible dog owner to do? Let the pup have a swam and claim ignorance, of course.
Despite it being a very sunny, warm, calm day, there were some waves churning. In addition, the recent storms had probably changed the beach slope quite a bit. So, when our no-fear water dog suddenly was up to her eyeballs in briny goodness not 5 m from the water’s edge, she was a bit surprised—only to be whapped upside the head by an incoming roller. We laughed. Tough love. The thought of sharkies did cross my mind (and I found out later that there are plenty along there), but we let her have a good swim, chasing tennis balls and having a grand old time rolling them around in the sand in her beach-soccer kind of way. The dog was happy!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
This Little Piggy…
Okay, okay...enough of this horrible ALCS playoff series...
Pig Roast VI has come and gone with all the usual fanfare, albeit without the typical canine extravaganza! We left our Saline Canine back in the most popular Swing State and toted ourselves across the great US of A via the big bird in the sky and landed in our former, and still most loved, city of Seattle. After napping off 2 days of extreme exam-taking and travel prep, we secured ourselves some delicious noodle soup from the former “Super Bowl Noodle,” and with bellies full and eyes rested, made our way in Mom’s Subaru (hey, it could have been Your Father’s Oldsmobile) to Whidbey Island for the annual convening of the Swine Committee.
Self-imposed Rule #1 of the Swine Committee meeting (imposed only after years of convening) is control the alcohol intake at the outset because dressing a pig at 6:30 am with a hangover is really ugly—raw pig does nothing to settle the stomach. So, with restraint, it was a grand old time catching up with the other committee members and strategerizing [sic] about the roast. We ate some Cordellian home-grown chow, drank some adult beverages, held an apple tasting session to refine our piggy palettes and then, feeling oh-so-good, tapped the keg! It also happened to be at this time (late in the evening) that the swine acquired her name. With past porcines running the gamut from the civil and even stuffy (Rosemary) to the enlightened (Orwell) to the thematic (Glenn, after innumerable bottles of Scotch whiskey appeared on the counter), it was with great pleasure and not just a few snide comments that we arrived at Sarah, aka “Maverick.” And with that, the roast was off to a marvelous start!
The Swine Committee arose when the rooster crowed the next morning. All geared up to get the party started despite the near freezing conditions (and very glad for the preemptive prep work that took place the previous evening), the tasks were knocked off with true pig-roasting veteran aplomb. With coffee brewed and garlic being prepped, the pig was given some love, and nestled into the expertly designed cradle to set about roasting. To add a new twist for this year (the roasting of the pig is evolutionary, after all) and because the swine came in a bit wee, King Cordell procured a few turkeys to squeeze on the spit next to Sarah. It only seemed wise to name a couple of roasting turkeys after other members of the GOP, so Dino and Rover (after Karl) rounded out the line-up. It was perhaps by chance or maybe on purpose that the better part of Sarah’s snout was firmly planted up Rover’s ass…how the heck did that happen???? Could it be…Satan????
At any rate, ‘round, and ‘round, and ‘round they all went, the humble masses engaging in kick-off keg stands, extreme croquet, and plenty of nibbling until the deliciously roasted beasts were too tempting for the Committee to handle any more rotations. We organized the pig processional, Brian the Bagpiper tuned up the pipes, and away we processed from the marsh to the spit to to pull them off! Yum! (Note: In true evolutionary fashion, we learned from our past mistake and will not be coating the pig plank in rubber plastic before putting it over the coals next year. While I don’t think we’ll have the EPA after us for our PAH-emissions, I’m pretty sure we’d all be a bit healthier minus the oozing and smoking plastic!).
Damn, did those beasts turn out well! I’m pretty sure the well-planned 2-day brine had a significant impact. Good work, King! With the carving complete and the Swine Committee and close associates satiated with prime cuts, Brother John brought out some delicious apple pies! What a fine dessert! I think that’s why my belly hurt for 4 hours. Or perhaps it was my 15th beer for the day! The Plankton Pickers set to work, turkey vultures circled overhead spying the carcasses from afar, and Katie roared home on her mower to round out the day!
Three cheers and lifelong immunity against trichinosis to the Swine Committee and our fellow revelers!
Pig Roast VI has come and gone with all the usual fanfare, albeit without the typical canine extravaganza! We left our Saline Canine back in the most popular Swing State and toted ourselves across the great US of A via the big bird in the sky and landed in our former, and still most loved, city of Seattle. After napping off 2 days of extreme exam-taking and travel prep, we secured ourselves some delicious noodle soup from the former “Super Bowl Noodle,” and with bellies full and eyes rested, made our way in Mom’s Subaru (hey, it could have been Your Father’s Oldsmobile) to Whidbey Island for the annual convening of the Swine Committee.
Self-imposed Rule #1 of the Swine Committee meeting (imposed only after years of convening) is control the alcohol intake at the outset because dressing a pig at 6:30 am with a hangover is really ugly—raw pig does nothing to settle the stomach. So, with restraint, it was a grand old time catching up with the other committee members and strategerizing [sic] about the roast. We ate some Cordellian home-grown chow, drank some adult beverages, held an apple tasting session to refine our piggy palettes and then, feeling oh-so-good, tapped the keg! It also happened to be at this time (late in the evening) that the swine acquired her name. With past porcines running the gamut from the civil and even stuffy (Rosemary) to the enlightened (Orwell) to the thematic (Glenn, after innumerable bottles of Scotch whiskey appeared on the counter), it was with great pleasure and not just a few snide comments that we arrived at Sarah, aka “Maverick.” And with that, the roast was off to a marvelous start!
The Swine Committee arose when the rooster crowed the next morning. All geared up to get the party started despite the near freezing conditions (and very glad for the preemptive prep work that took place the previous evening), the tasks were knocked off with true pig-roasting veteran aplomb. With coffee brewed and garlic being prepped, the pig was given some love, and nestled into the expertly designed cradle to set about roasting. To add a new twist for this year (the roasting of the pig is evolutionary, after all) and because the swine came in a bit wee, King Cordell procured a few turkeys to squeeze on the spit next to Sarah. It only seemed wise to name a couple of roasting turkeys after other members of the GOP, so Dino and Rover (after Karl) rounded out the line-up. It was perhaps by chance or maybe on purpose that the better part of Sarah’s snout was firmly planted up Rover’s ass…how the heck did that happen???? Could it be…Satan????
At any rate, ‘round, and ‘round, and ‘round they all went, the humble masses engaging in kick-off keg stands, extreme croquet, and plenty of nibbling until the deliciously roasted beasts were too tempting for the Committee to handle any more rotations. We organized the pig processional, Brian the Bagpiper tuned up the pipes, and away we processed from the marsh to the spit to to pull them off! Yum! (Note: In true evolutionary fashion, we learned from our past mistake and will not be coating the pig plank in rubber plastic before putting it over the coals next year. While I don’t think we’ll have the EPA after us for our PAH-emissions, I’m pretty sure we’d all be a bit healthier minus the oozing and smoking plastic!).
Damn, did those beasts turn out well! I’m pretty sure the well-planned 2-day brine had a significant impact. Good work, King! With the carving complete and the Swine Committee and close associates satiated with prime cuts, Brother John brought out some delicious apple pies! What a fine dessert! I think that’s why my belly hurt for 4 hours. Or perhaps it was my 15th beer for the day! The Plankton Pickers set to work, turkey vultures circled overhead spying the carcasses from afar, and Katie roared home on her mower to round out the day!Three cheers and lifelong immunity against trichinosis to the Swine Committee and our fellow revelers!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
My Pet Rock Is More Qualified Than Sarah Palin To Be Vice President
Well, no, I can't just leave this alone. I joined this little group "My Pet Rock Is More Qualified Than Sarah Palin To Be Vice President" on Facebook (I'm a student again, I need to engage in such things to put off calculating chemical reactions and being scared by differential equations!). I thought it was just a joke, but sadly, I'm beginning to think it's true. At least my pet rock doesn't say much to offend me.
Is this woman for real? Yeah, yeah, yeah, the media is being unduly hard on her, I know. Bullshit. The media is hard on everyone and it's not the media's fault that she doesn't know which newspapers she reads ("All of them"--yeah, right) or who Hamas is. To quote Jon Stewart, "Jeeeezzussss."
I've been catching the slow-release Katie Couric news clips and am in awe. Seriously, I could have come up with something to say where she said nothing and talked herself in a circle. At least I know what newspapers I read (The New York Times daily, occasionally the Seattle Times, Boston Globe, and Washington Post, USA Today only when I have to and the International Herald Tribune, when abroad, and yes, I have been to more countries than Sarah Palin). Really, is this the best they have to offer? Couldn't Karl Rove put someone a little more credible up for grabs. When Palin debuted and the McCain camp said they were hoping to get some of the Hillary supporters I was a bit insulted--clearly Sarah Palin and Hillary Clinton don't stand for the same thing. Now, it's just abundantly clear that Sarah Palin doesn't know what she stands for because she's so politically illiterate it hurts to watch her (though it is a bit like bad comedy and I'll be watching the VP debate with bated breath tonight!). This woman is completely unqualified for the position she may, but hopefully will not get to, fill.
Well, I know she can see Russia from her home state and that qualifies her as an expert on Puty Poo. In fact, I used to be able to see Canada from my old town and you know what, it looked pretty good!
Is this woman for real? Yeah, yeah, yeah, the media is being unduly hard on her, I know. Bullshit. The media is hard on everyone and it's not the media's fault that she doesn't know which newspapers she reads ("All of them"--yeah, right) or who Hamas is. To quote Jon Stewart, "Jeeeezzussss."
I've been catching the slow-release Katie Couric news clips and am in awe. Seriously, I could have come up with something to say where she said nothing and talked herself in a circle. At least I know what newspapers I read (The New York Times daily, occasionally the Seattle Times, Boston Globe, and Washington Post, USA Today only when I have to and the International Herald Tribune, when abroad, and yes, I have been to more countries than Sarah Palin). Really, is this the best they have to offer? Couldn't Karl Rove put someone a little more credible up for grabs. When Palin debuted and the McCain camp said they were hoping to get some of the Hillary supporters I was a bit insulted--clearly Sarah Palin and Hillary Clinton don't stand for the same thing. Now, it's just abundantly clear that Sarah Palin doesn't know what she stands for because she's so politically illiterate it hurts to watch her (though it is a bit like bad comedy and I'll be watching the VP debate with bated breath tonight!). This woman is completely unqualified for the position she may, but hopefully will not get to, fill.
Well, I know she can see Russia from her home state and that qualifies her as an expert on Puty Poo. In fact, I used to be able to see Canada from my old town and you know what, it looked pretty good!
Friday, September 5, 2008
Ouch...Knuckle Down
After approximately a month off of field work, my burly field muscles had begun to atrophy and my butt seemed to be getting wider, as sitting at a desk (and in a car) for days on end, is prone to do. But alas, with Ike and the Ladies abrew in the Atlantic, I got to carry some buckets and lift some shit to make my new environs safe and secure! Incidentally, in my previous locale we typically had storms of this size, except they weren't named and no one ran to the store to stock up on baked beans, toilet paper, and C-cells. I guess we also didn't need to worry about the effects that a 1' storm surge might have--it's one of the benefits of having a topographically endowed coast!
One of the benefits of being office-bound is the reversion of the hard-working "man hands" back into something more lady-like. Just when I thought my man hands were over, I got back outside and promptly shredded a knuckle...ouch. Perhaps I need to ease back into it?
For now, we've battened down the hatches and she's good to blow...
One of the benefits of being office-bound is the reversion of the hard-working "man hands" back into something more lady-like. Just when I thought my man hands were over, I got back outside and promptly shredded a knuckle...ouch. Perhaps I need to ease back into it?
For now, we've battened down the hatches and she's good to blow...
Friday, August 29, 2008
Obambastic!
This guy is good!
After watching many of the speeches from the DNC this week, capped off with Obama's address last night, I have hope that the we may soon see a positive upturn in the way things are done in this country. Throughout the week, there have been a number of references to climate, science, energy policy, and other timely topics--topics our current administration has ignored, if not scorned. What a relief!
Obama may not be the most experienced candidate, but he is bright, talented, seems to have solid intuition, can rally the masses, and understands that this country is here for more than pumping up the wallets of the oil companies!
Obama/Biden 2008!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Some Ponderings From An Adult Learner
So, it's a tough choice tonight: Bill Clinton's Democratic National Convention Speech or Red Sox v. Yankees in HD. I'm bouncing back and forth, and figured I'd make a few notes about my first day of school. To put it bluntly, I've had a bit of anxiety about returning as an "adult learner." I was in the CVS the other day and the cashier dude asked me if I was a William and Mary student--I replied, "Yes, of sorts" and he asked me if I was in the law school. After hashing out the details of my situation, he told me he was headed to college at ODU in January and couldn't wait...although, he was a bit nervous already. I assured him that despite being on my way to my 3rd degree, I was pretty nervous too! I mean, what do the kids wear these days? And I didn't even have time to stop into Grand City (aka "Grand Shitty," Maine Street, Brunswick, ME) to pick up my new pack of Crayolas and some notebooks. And until late last night, I didn't even know what class I was taking today...turns out, I had two! At any rate, I'm not the only adult learner and I survived, but made some of the following observations:
- Flip-flops are de rigueur
- Everything is electronic (except for the telephone list, which I think is just an oversight...or perhaps a southern thing)--even the syllabus is electronic!
- All the lectures are recorded and available as MP3s--how cool is that???
- Professors send out their lectures as PowerPoint files the day before the lecture!
- Textbooks can be downloaded from the internet! Thanks to some professor named R.H. Stewart at Texas A&M, I am saving 100 bucks in textbook fees and merely downloading a PDF of his constantly updated book--what a concept! This guy is awesome. If I ever meet him at a conference I think I will hug him. He will think I'm nuts!
- I fired up my shiny new computer today and found it chock full of every program I could have asked for, including Tides and Currents--finally, an organization that realizes the importance of having the resources you need!
- 50 minutes goes by fast!
I'm sure there's more, but perhaps the humidity has gone to my brain. The heat of earlier this week nearly killed me, but thanks to a well air conditioned car, I was able to regain my senses on my commute home and it has subsequently cooled. I'm off to a good start! School is fun!
Friday, August 22, 2008
Everybody Loves a Great Grand-Dogger
Before we left Maine we snagged a case of Old Thumper to start our new lives with and some fresh haddock at Gilmore’s fish market…and we couldn’t resist a snack of golden fried clams, so added that in to our order as well. Yum. Nothing like hitting the road on a belly of delicious, perfectly crisp, piping hot, briny fried clams…
We rolled in to Witch City and unleashed the hound on Babci. I sort of figured Babci would be a little indifferent to the Four-Legged Beast, but they became fast friends (despite the fact that Babci kept referring to the poor doggy as “he”—I guess technically she’s an “it” at this point, but I don’t think we can make a case for “he”). Babci tried to offer “him” some food—ham, perhaps? And something to drink—milk, maybe? When I told her the pup eats kibble and drinks water she seemed a bit surprised and a little bit dejected—after all, a good Polish Babci is put on this earth to make sure no one goes hungry, dogs inlcuded! It was only a matter of time though until Babci treated the dog—with a piece of misguided lobster that launched out of her lunch-time roll and smack onto the floor. She dismissed it saying, “Oh, ‘he’ probably doesn’t like that.” Figuring it could do no harm, we gave the nod and the Salty One was treated to a choice piece of Homarus americanus and soon realized this Babci lady was all right, even if the gender thing was a bit puzzling!
We had some good times catching up with the eldest member of my clan. Some typically choice mixed metaphors and comments about various athletes and politicians made it all the more humorous. One comment in particular should be relayed:
An ad for McCain came on the TV during an Olympic break. She disgustedly remarked that she received a letter from him. He wanted money. Hubby and I chuckled and I asked what she did about it. “I shredded it,” she said with disdain. Way to go, Babci!
After a scrumptious lunch, we said our goodbyes (with the majority of the sentimental moments being handed to the Fuzzy One) and we hit the road again—armed with home-grown tomatoes, Toll House cookies, and some Bagel World loot. That Babci, she’s okay.
We made for points south, but were way-laid by 35¢ tolls and a hella lot of NYC traffic. So, we decided for a dinner break on Exit 151 of the Garden State Parkway. If there’s one thing NJ can do well, it’s Italian food (and apparently Jamaican food too), so when we cruised by a little Italian joint, complete with shady parking, we decided to do a walk-up investigation. A quick assessment told us it was the right choice, but in our Seattle casual we would have stuck out like, well, an REI shopper at Tony Soprano’s hang-out. So, back to the car to reconsider dinner plans. But ah-ha! The virtues of carrying all of your belongings in a car is that, like Clark Kent, you can change! So, we pulled out some respectable but wrinkled togs and looked for the nearest phone booth. With those public changing rooms having gone the way of the dodo, we made like Hawaiians and discretely dressed up right there next to our car! Off we went to join Tony and his friends at dinner (note to Seattleites: we were still woefully underdressed). And it was a worthwhile stop. Good stuff. Maybe New Jersey is civilized…nah.
We’ll huff some natural and artificial flavors on the NJ Turnpike before turning in for the night, a few more states down and a few more to go.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Breathing Casco Bay Air, At Long Last
As already mentioned, there are parts of the country that are just better to fly over…like Gary, Indiana and Youngstown, Ohio. Wisconsin had some nice cows (at large) and we had a good time in Madison, eating tasty vittles and wandering around downtown, with a trip to the dog park before departing. Pennsylvania has some redeeming pastoral beauty, and spotting the vanload of Amish folks filing out of the McToilet did elicit a good chuckle, but mostly we were just eager to get to the Maine coast with some tasty lobster and salty water.
But before we get there, we should give a nod to Jamaican James in Ledgewood, NJ—these guys cook up some killer fried plantains and jerk chicken and provide papa’s homemade BBQ sauce to douse the stuff in. While he wouldn’t divulge the recipe, the cook admitted to a multitude of ingredients that we think probably included cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and all kinds of fruit juices. Jamaican James was a delicious hole-in-the-wall that provided great relief from the chain-restaurant juggernaut we had endured for the previous 2500 miles! Ah, civilization…NJ barely qualifies, but we’ll give it a pass on account of Jamaican James!
So, on to Maine we went, dodging all sorts of weekend traffic and nasty tolls. If my beloved complained about tolls one more time, I was going to relegate him to the rear and move the four-legged to the shotgun position. Tolls are a fact of life anywhere beyond the west…that means, well, just about everywhere we’ll be over the next several years. So, we bucked up and paid our tithe to NY, MA, NH, and ME, with a special deposit at the NH State Liquor Store for the traditional additional offering and to supply ourselves for the days ahead!
Upon arriving in Vacationland, I’m pretty sure I suffered a blood-pressure drop of about 25 points. Breathe deeply and smell the briny air. Amen. We swam, imbibed, sailed, tennis-ed, ate, golfed, ate, imbibed, walked, shopped, ate, boated, and chatted with our friends. All around a great stay in my favorite of places, albeit just a bit too short. The Salty Dog was back in her element too, with some running around, swimming, clam digging, and of course, getting a good dose of Atlantic brine. She seems to be weathering all the change—new scenery, new smells, and lots of attention—with aplomb. Of course, having more time in the sunshine and being free to run and play in the water may have something to do with it!
But before we get there, we should give a nod to Jamaican James in Ledgewood, NJ—these guys cook up some killer fried plantains and jerk chicken and provide papa’s homemade BBQ sauce to douse the stuff in. While he wouldn’t divulge the recipe, the cook admitted to a multitude of ingredients that we think probably included cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and all kinds of fruit juices. Jamaican James was a delicious hole-in-the-wall that provided great relief from the chain-restaurant juggernaut we had endured for the previous 2500 miles! Ah, civilization…NJ barely qualifies, but we’ll give it a pass on account of Jamaican James!
So, on to Maine we went, dodging all sorts of weekend traffic and nasty tolls. If my beloved complained about tolls one more time, I was going to relegate him to the rear and move the four-legged to the shotgun position. Tolls are a fact of life anywhere beyond the west…that means, well, just about everywhere we’ll be over the next several years. So, we bucked up and paid our tithe to NY, MA, NH, and ME, with a special deposit at the NH State Liquor Store for the traditional additional offering and to supply ourselves for the days ahead!
Upon arriving in Vacationland, I’m pretty sure I suffered a blood-pressure drop of about 25 points. Breathe deeply and smell the briny air. Amen. We swam, imbibed, sailed, tennis-ed, ate, golfed, ate, imbibed, walked, shopped, ate, boated, and chatted with our friends. All around a great stay in my favorite of places, albeit just a bit too short. The Salty Dog was back in her element too, with some running around, swimming, clam digging, and of course, getting a good dose of Atlantic brine. She seems to be weathering all the change—new scenery, new smells, and lots of attention—with aplomb. Of course, having more time in the sunshine and being free to run and play in the water may have something to do with it!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
The Part of the Country People Fly Over
A few years ago the venerable satirical publication, The Onion, led with a classic headline: “Midwest Discovered Between East, West Coasts” with the article discussing the discovery of this unknown area people have typically flown over. Amen. Unfortunately, traveling on I-90 between western South Dakota and eastern Minnesota, you might as well fly—not a lot going on besides corn.
But before the long, boring stretch of highway, we did see some classic American landmarks. We departed the Worst Western and headed for Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. In typical fashion, we decided the entrance fee was not worth paying and opted for some roadside photo stops. The red earth on the hills around the tower was almost as impressive as the tower itself and made for dramatic landscape vistas.
We cruised south toward the Wyoming/South Dakota border and set sail through the Black Hills…right about reaching the Jewel Cave stop, we got some good news on the house front and opted for a celebratory lunch at some chuck wagon-style joint in Custer. Not exactly gourmet in the style of foie gras and champagne, but it did the trick.
We cruised through the Crazy Horse monument, but again opted out of the entrance fee due to a lack of time to roam around the expansive complex and contented ourselves with some pictures of the monument. Then on to Mt. Rushmore, where the story was the same. While there’s no charge to view the monument, the Park Service has conveniently allowed a concession for parking—uh, I didn’t exactly see a public transit system allowing non-driving access to the monument (this is like the airlines charging for baggage, in my opinion). We boycotted on general principle and again were content to snap a photo of the dead guys on the hill from afar. So, lest you think we’re being cheap, we chalk it up to being principled!
After a swing through the Badlands, which was REALLY hot and had rattlesnakes, we got ourselves back on I-90 for the long slog east to Sioux Falls…thankfully our hotel was much better than the last one. Apparently, it was also a hot bed for Sioux Falls call girls (incidental, but very apropos pun, I may add).
We did get to experience a true midewestern thunderstorm, which, at 70 miles an hour, did a great job cleansing the Grey Goose of the zillions of bugs acquired over the past 2200 miles!
But before the long, boring stretch of highway, we did see some classic American landmarks. We departed the Worst Western and headed for Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. In typical fashion, we decided the entrance fee was not worth paying and opted for some roadside photo stops. The red earth on the hills around the tower was almost as impressive as the tower itself and made for dramatic landscape vistas.
We cruised south toward the Wyoming/South Dakota border and set sail through the Black Hills…right about reaching the Jewel Cave stop, we got some good news on the house front and opted for a celebratory lunch at some chuck wagon-style joint in Custer. Not exactly gourmet in the style of foie gras and champagne, but it did the trick.
We cruised through the Crazy Horse monument, but again opted out of the entrance fee due to a lack of time to roam around the expansive complex and contented ourselves with some pictures of the monument. Then on to Mt. Rushmore, where the story was the same. While there’s no charge to view the monument, the Park Service has conveniently allowed a concession for parking—uh, I didn’t exactly see a public transit system allowing non-driving access to the monument (this is like the airlines charging for baggage, in my opinion). We boycotted on general principle and again were content to snap a photo of the dead guys on the hill from afar. So, lest you think we’re being cheap, we chalk it up to being principled!
After a swing through the Badlands, which was REALLY hot and had rattlesnakes, we got ourselves back on I-90 for the long slog east to Sioux Falls…thankfully our hotel was much better than the last one. Apparently, it was also a hot bed for Sioux Falls call girls (incidental, but very apropos pun, I may add).
We did get to experience a true midewestern thunderstorm, which, at 70 miles an hour, did a great job cleansing the Grey Goose of the zillions of bugs acquired over the past 2200 miles!
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Montana is a Big State
We drove for what seemed like days, but was really just one really long day and a little…Montana is no tiny state. It is a big Western territory with all sorts of varied topography, geology, and character. And some very impressive scenery and fun towns, to boot.
We left our little cabin this morning after a visit by four beautiful loons and got a killer-great breakfast at the Montana Coffee Trading Company in Columbia Falls—truly D-Lish. We had a little biznes to conduct and managed to download what we needed while chowing down—and we forgot some things so poached more internet from a hotel in Kalispell (a little road-trip trick of the trade) before heading south along Flathead Lake. There was a pretty good fire raging somewhere west of Polson and we saw all the fire crew staging areas and lots of backcountry fire equipment out and about—this is a unique high-country concern. I think people who live outside of fire-prone areas fail to appreciate how much fire and fighting fire influences the way of life in the American west. Take a fire-evolved ecosystem, add people and houses, and you’ve got some issues.
At any rate, our travels took us to Missoula (for more biznes and a romp at the bark park for the 4-legged), Butte (for some spectacular landscape and crazy mountain pass driving), Bozeman (for chow and some leg stretchin’), and Billings (for…well, we didn’t stop—it smelled bad), before crossing into Wyoming and landing at our hotel. Note to self: do not stay at the Best Western in Buffalo, Wyoming. The people were nice, the hotel sucked. Our 189 bones (!) got us a dingy motel room next to the ice machine, with a leaky toilet, cigarette-burned bedding, paper thin walls, and no sleep...and internet was out of the question! Yee-hah! We’re just grateful we didn’t get bedbugs. Yuck. Lesson learned: we did some internet searching and are off to a better place at a lower price tonight.
To end on a high note: we picked up a SWEET beer kozy for the start of our collection today…it has bitchin’ flames!
Glacier National Park
Spoiler: The Going-to-the-Sun Road is one of the most stunning roads in America.
Story: We got to the entrance of Glacier National Park a little later than expected and joined the line-up of cars waiting to get in. Sadly, the Park Service has a no-win mandate: serve millions of visitors without making an impact to the landscape, on a pittance of a budget. Well, cynicism aside, it was our lucky day. We were waved right through the entrance--because the line was so long, the gate-keepers had to wave people through to get it slimmed down. While I was feeling quite lucky that we were let in free, it does make me a little sad that our car, as well as probably hundreds of others, got in without having to pay their dues, dues the Park Service is highly reliant upon for their operations. Okay, there’s some more negativity, which I will now abandon because we had a truly spectacular day.
We drove up to the Logan Pass visitor center via the Going-to-the-Sun Road upon entering. This drive is a bit harrowing, but takes you along the Flathead River where a hair-pin turn sends you several thousand feet upward around more crazy turns with amazing vistas in all directions! We had a lot of photo stops and I couldn’t help but notice the temperature plunging with each turn. By the time we got up to Logan Pass (at the Continental Divide and over 6,000’) it was a chilly 48 degrees F, with the wind blowing steadily and freezing the bejeezus out of my bare legs…as the doofus of the day, I had failed to bring pants. I donned all my jackets, fleecy things, a hat, and socks and shoes (blasphemy in summer!), and we headed up the Hidden Lake trail…along with hundreds of our best friends. We had planned to do the more off-the-beaten-track Garden Wall hike, but the noon-hour and the frigid weather made us reconsider the 11 miles or so. We got great views and saw lots of wildlife anyway, all without going hypothermic.
Of course there needs to be some mention of the charismatic megafauna, with some old goats making a grand appearance (and a baby goat too). And we saw some ground squirrels, marmots, and other little beasties of undetermined provenance. Fun! Even more impressive though, is the geology in the park. Basically my knowledge of geology stops at the major rock types: sedimentary, igneous, and…what’s that other one? But, I sure would have loved to have known a bit about what I was seeing—I guess there’s always the internet.
We headed down from Logan Pass and out the east side of the park, passing some grand attractions like the World’s Largest Wooden Spoon Shop and enjoyed some huckleberry pie at one roadside stop claiming they had the best (rarely do these claims pan out, but this was some respectable pie, even if not truly superlative!).We made one last stop for dinner at the Isaak Walton Hotel before heading home for some more relaxation at the cabin, where the heartier of us capped off the night with a dark-sky dip in the lake and some adult beverages and we all watched a little bit of the Perseid meteor shower filling the clear Montana sky!
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