Tales from Easement Acres
This year’s squirrel hunting wasn’t so successful, so I have no epic tales of glorious battle to recount.
But we did spot an epic mushroom. And I just so happened to remember seeing one of these before on a hunting trip.
That was 6 years ago. Apparently it made an impression on me. Mushrooms are cool. and creepy.
–Simon
We went up to the Biggs’ Family Reunion this last week (Dad’s Mother’s side). As expected, there were a lot of people I didn’t know, and just as many I only vaguely remembered. I guess I’m bad at networking, even when it’s my own extended family. Then again, I’m currently hiding from my nuclear family in the basement, so judge if you must.
I suppose that, when the world ends, we should know our kin, so that our collective clan can band together against violent wasteland raiders. Blood ties!
Amusingly, few of my photos involved this extended family, but rather the activities, so I present to you a montage summary:
–Simon
Memorial Day saw us into the unofficial start of Summer, not that we needed the reminder, as it’s been swelteringly hot for weeks now. But with Summer comes Summer activities, and the old man paid us a visit for some granddaughter time and fishing.
The Mad River provided some relief from the heat–ambient temperature drop from its evaporative cooling effects, though the kid chose a more direct approach (having quickly lost interest in fishing–not as easy as pulling out packs of ravenous bluegills). I remember being indifferent to the discomfort of wet clothes too as a kid.
The chubs were biting, and I pulled in a satisfying number. Dad got a shiner, too. It was much more successful than last year’s attempt at the local metroparks.
Plus, it’s a lot more pleasant to spend the afternoon in a clean and more secluded body of water. The metroparks are just dirty and I wouldn’t eat anything that came out of those ponds. Although that hardly matters, as we’re generally catch and release anyway.
–Simon
There’s an incredible amount of dandelions this year. And I can’t deny their charm, as their happy yellow blooms dot the landscape–a prelude to my daughter’s romp through their seeding masses, almost colloidal as they hang in the air.
Yet a part of me cringes as I watch countless potential dandelion progeny drift throughout my yard. I’m conflicted. Do I despise them as a blight, or tolerate them for their aesthetic/medicinal value?
I considered buying an herbicide, and I admit, I use Roundup. But despite the dandelion’s invasiveness, I’m opposed to fighting nature with such overkill tactics. History has proven that such measures always yield unforeseen, and undesirable, consequences. So I began removing them manually.
But the weeding tool proved inadequate.
And so I debated.
Many times have I learned that fighting the natural world results in only temporary victories, that instead I should either appease or compromise. Such was it that I’ve preserved many a garden crop by planting instead tastier alternatives for the neighborhood rabbits. So why should I dwell on the humble dandelion?
Nay, I shall harvest this plant. I will use this formerly unwanted bumper crop to instead experiment with salad and tea. Stay tuned!
–Simon
People are really weird about crystals. There’s the crystal cult goofs who I guess think they channel divine essence or something. And was it crystals that gave Merlin his magic? I dunno. I’m not terribly inclined to research it further.
But anyway, I was at some outlet with Liz and noticed a bin of geodes. I recalled geode-hunting once in New Mexico, an old memory from my Texas years, and while I found some fragments, no one in the group discovered an intact geode. And here was a pile of them as if they had been simply scooped up somewhere. Maybe they had. I didn’t know how common they were.
Wikipedia revealed the obvious answer: they are (the biggest one being a cave in Ohio) and no doubt $10 was a large up-charge for the small rock. Still it was cool and dredged up a childhood memory, so I bought it for the kid.
The cashier helpfully informed me that I should break it open gently, rather than wail upon it with a hammer, as they break easy and hitting it too hard would just crush it. Apparently that was a common complaint.
I had planned to saw it evenly in half, though it turned out that I lacked the equipment to do so. So I got a chisel and hammer. I held the chisel while the kid tapped the hammer, and the geode fell apart into 3 nice chunks.
It was a cool enough experience that even the kid exclaimed in delight, distracting her away from her tablet for minutes.
Then she put it back together.
Weird. OCD or something. I dunno where she gets that from.
–Simon