Creative Anachronism Comes To Pure Florida

Before there was this ...



There was lots of this ...

And a little bit of this ...

(Is my Emma the cutest thing ever or WHAT?!!)

That's real steel chain mail Junior's wearing .... weighs about 30 pounds.

They were serious looking men ... totally focused on their mission ...

Lords and ladies off to the Hoggtowne Medieval Faire ...

Let the serfs walk, we prefer a suitable chariot.

Winter Is Coming

The shield above is taken from Amazon.com. It was the inspiration for my attempt ...

I don't read the George R. Martin series ... A GAME OF THRONES, A CLASH OF KINGS, blah, blah, blah, but I am surrounded by people that do.

It sounds cool, a land of decades long seasons, competing clans, swords, sorcery, ... hmmm, now why does that sound appealing and familiar?

OH YEAH, Robert Howard did all that back in the 30's when he wrote the Conan series and invented the sword and sorcery genre.

Now I remember.

(Kevin, 'Billy, ... even without dipping into Martin's series, WE know the Cimmerian could kick these newcomer's butts).

Even so, I will probably take the plunge at some point ... if just for the ability to stay in a conversation around here, now that I am totally surrounded by fans of Martin's apparently excellent books.

Or I may just watch the HBO series about them that is coming soon.

So, if you have been paying attention, (YOU! In the back row, Yes, YOU! Pay attention!)

... you know that I have been working on a shield for Junior to tote at the Medieval Faire.

Today was to be the day, but it's cold, grey, windy, and rainy, so I got to put the finishing touches on hold until this morning. Looks like tomorrow will be the good fair day, after this front moves through.

After I finish this post, I will be zipping out to the barn to finalize it.

Don't judge me too harshly artisans. This was just supposed to be a rush job, circular plywood shield with no adornments. Junior's swordcrazed buddy was coming to stay and they needed one more shield so they could bash each other silly with their wooden swords.

I got it in my head to make a shield based on Junior's favorite character from the books. What I didn't realize is that he would not want to ding it up when he saw it.

"No, Dad, I want that one for the medieval faire. It's too cool to bang up ... can you whip up a plain one for our dueling?"

Sure.

I sketched the wolf emblem on to the plywood and did a quick etching job with my Dremel tool to give it some relief. This was done back when the shield was going to be just a quick rush job, so I didn't do any real fine tuning.

Today, the straps go on the back and I may mess with something to bring out the relief on that white wolf.

It's a messy day ... a good one to be stuck in the shop with some wood and some sharp tools.

Pine Pups Planted

BEHOLD SHADOWMAN, PLANTER OF PINES!

Last week, I noticed middle school kids roaming the halls with these pine seedlings. Each pine pup was in a ziploc bag with planting instructions attached.

When I asked one girl about the source of the baby pines, the response was, "Huh, I don't know, ... the FFA teacher was giving them out. What do we do with them?"

"Well, you take them home and plant them."

"I don't want to do that."

"Well, why did you take one?"

"They were free."

"If you really don't want it, don't throw it away. Give it to me and I will plant it for you and provide it a good home."

She handed me the pine and bounded away into a nearby classroom.

In a few minutes, about 3 other kids from that class zipped over and gave me their pine orphans.

Florida's Arbor Day falls earlier than the National Arbor Day due to our climate, so I believe the Ag teacher had presented an Arbor Day lesson that day and the free pine pups were a nice touch to the lesson.

I took them home and planted them around the bare skeleton of a massive turkey oak that just up and died on my about two years ago. The soil is good there and the leafless turkey oak no longer shades the ground, so I'm predicting good times ahead for these young longleaf pines.

About a hundred years from now this little guy is going to be awesome!

Avocet

This avocet was dibbling late in the day at St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge last December. It looks like he got something ... perhaps a snail on that last dunk.

The name "avocet" sound so tres Francais, that I had to Googly it.

Alas, no translation came back, just variations of the word in Italian and French.

Apparently, it's just the name of the bird.

Cabbage Ahead, Slaw Down

I found this cabbage field (and others) somewhere in the back end of Flagler or Volusia County a few weeks ago while I was roaming backroads on my way home from St. Augustine.

Yes, I know you wish you had taken this cabbage photo ... it's so cabbagey.

Sorry, but I slaw it first.

Atlast Alittle Atlatl Advance

Do you realize that it has been 2 years since I started this atlatl?
Two years!!!!

Where does the time go?
In those two years I have picked up the atlatl exactly 4 times.
Pretty sad. If you had asked me, I would have said I first got the itch to make an atlatl about a year ago.
I was shocked when I searched backwards through PF to find it was TWO years ago.
Do I sound shocked?
I'm telling ya, ... I was shocked.

Sunday was one of those days where I just stayed home and "piddled". Mostly, I worked in the shop on two outstanding projects ... the atlatl and Junior's John Longclaw Shield that he needs for his extremely cool persona at the Hoggetowne Medieval Faire this weekend.
He tried on his stuff last night and let me tell ya, he's going to top out at around 9.8 on the swoonometer ladies.


As for the atlatl, I started shaping the gator face from a blocky "It might sposed to be a gator" to "Oh, it's gonna be a gator."
No real detail yet, just getting the contours of his face and roughing out his eyes. The painstaking, drive you insane, stuff is coming up ... jaw line, teeth, nostrils, eyes.

This stick has some challenges though. There are spots here and there with weak, black, crumbly wood where small branches once connected with the Persimmon tree. They are small and mostly cosmetic, but one sits right between the eyes of the gator.
That's a bit of a bugaboo, but I have a plan. It will involve a bit of carveable, stainable wood epoxy tucked in the cavity.

Moving to the opposite end ...
I'm going to inset this raccoon tooth into the tail end of the atlatl. It will serve as the notch to hold the end of the dart ( a six foot fletched arrow really).


It was pretty groovy to be carving wood again. I fine-tuned my finger grip grooves some more so it feels right in your hand.

It fits!

Lots more to do of course, but I've got the bug again so that is good. God only knows if it will chunk a spear when it's done ... I may just wind up with a cool stick.

The Longclaw shield has to take priority this week though, since the fair is this weekend. It just needs a final coat of paint, something to accent the relief carving, and straps on the back so it can be used.

I'll try and get a picture up here when it's done.

Heck ... I'll get a picture of Junior all kitted out so you get the full effect.

Was It Only A Week Or So Ago?

The first thing I want to say is thank you for all the birthday comments yesterday ... much appreciated.



Was it only a week or so ago that we were freezing down here in Florida?

I vaguely remember conditions so cold that ponds froze, beards were needed, and gloves were for warmth, not protection.

Today, it's not even 8:00 am and the temperature is 64.
Yesterday, I shed my shirt and slapped on some sunscreen while working in the blueberry patch.

Two weeks ago I bundled up in layers and gloves just to rake some pine straw.


In the southwest corner of PFHQ I planted rows of pines years ago. The one in the picture was already there, my planted pines are not quite that big yet, but they are big enough to produce a nice carpet of pine needles for me.
Pine straw is a really good mulch for my blueberry bushes and it's a lot more fun to rake it in cold, low humidity weather. So, I grabbed my trusty, very rusty, garden cart and headed into the piney corner.

We use this old cart for everything and it is starting to show it's age. The rusted handle broke off a few weeks ago when Junior was hauling a load of firewood, so he rigged this rope in it's place.
I made a few trips back and forth that day ...



That twiggy dead looking stick between you and the cart is a young, dormant blueberry bush. There are about 4 in a row in this area that are the newbies. They've only been in the ground for a year or two and never had any decent mulch so they should enjoy the pine needles.

All of that blueberry maintenance above was on January 9th when we were enduring a record breaking series of freezing days.

Yesterday, I transplanted a couple of big blueberry bushes from pots to ground. They had started out as little bare root babies, about a foot tall in a box of 4 from Sams.

At the time I potted them so I could nurture them a little, rather than just sticking them in our sand and saying, "Good luck little blue dudes!"

Somehow, two seasons slipped by, and they were 4 feet tall and really, really, ready to get out of those pots.

Planting them, I noticed one potentially disastrous effect of the long cold period we just went through.

Their buds are swelling ... one was actually opening.

Poor little guys think they've been through a whole winter due to all those chilling hours,

It's only late January, there are more freezes to come ... maybe really bad ones based on this year's record so far.

If those blues bud out and then we have a hard freeze, my summer blueberry crop is toast.

Let me tell ya, a lack of blues will really give me the blues come harvest time.

Wassup?

What?












Hmmmmmm .... what could be up?





FC never (well almost never) posts other people's stuff here at PF.

Is he trying to pump up PF?

Nope.






Perhaps, ... perhaps FC is not playing with a full deck?


What could possibly make this day, in this week, different from the other 7 .0048 X 52?

So many questions ... wait, here's more ...

Is there a theme running through this post ? ... only time will tell.

Is it a day for cake?


Yes ... perhaps it is.

Oh Mon Dieu, Non Pas Gumbo Again!

Well, you'll never hear me complain about gumbo again ... not in my très mal le français, or in my pretty decent Anglais.

I'm writing this last night (time travel is no problem when you have watched as much Star Trek as I have) after a day off due to an appointment with a new dentist.
Here's a little secret about me ... the dentist scares the pants off me. I had a childhood dentist who probably got his training at the Spanish Inquisition Dental School.
The result is, I'd rather wade through a swamp full of moccasins without those fancy snakeproof boots than go to the dentist.


Heck, that may not even be a secret ... I'm getting close to 2000 posts here and I have probably mentioned that before.

Today's appointment was the first introductory check up with a new dentist. Mrs. FC was really impressed with after they had worked together on some community health thang. I was to be the first of us to be seen as we make the switch from our previous dentist (an insurance thing).

I'll spare you the details, but let's just say this lady dentist was pretty incredible in a dental professional sort of way.
I'm feeling better about the next visit.
... but enough about my dentalwussnicity.

When I returned home from my appointment, I started a batch of low fat chicken and sausage gumbo. This gumbo is so low fat that when you put the leftovers in the fridge, there is essentially no fat layer at the top the next day.

We love it alot and it's been on this blog an embarrassing amount of times ... so, once more won't hurt.

Upper left: What the heck? Martian soil? Cocoa? No, flour browned in a 400 degree oven with no oil, no nothin'.
Lower left: bell pepper, onion, celery sauteing in a spray lubed cast iron pot.
Upper right: a spoonful of roux after the flower was added to the celery, pepper, onion mix.
Lower right: bubbling, almost fat free roux.

Below: A bowl of the finished product.


Only the knowledge that I had a zillion Mom baked original recipe Toll House cookies sitting at the end of the table kept me from eating waaaaaay too much gumbo. In fact, when I finish this post, I'm grabbing a glass of milk and a handful of those babies.

But first, I have to tell you about the legend of "Poony".

See the spoon in that last picture?
Nothing special about it, it's just your standard, round, soup spoon. Looks pretty institutional, nothing fancy, just stainless steel.

We don't know where this spoon came from. It seems to have just appeared here years ago. The spoon stands alone and is larger than our other soup spoons.

Somewhere along the way, it became my favorite soup spoon.
... and somewhere along the way, the girls named it "Poony" ... as in, "Stop everything, Dad can't find his wittle Poony and he can't eat his soup without it."


Now, I CAN eat soup without Poony, I just choose not to do so.
It just fits. I can't explain it and I don't mind the ribbing I get from Katie and Emma ... I think they secretly covet it.

As if my attachment to a spoon isn't odd enough, get this ...

Last weekend, I was home helping Mom and Dad with some chores. It was lunch time and Mom had made a big pot of lima beans and ham. If you are a long time reader here, you know my Dad had polio as a kid, broke his leg last year, and generally doesn't get around too well these days.

So, Dad was in his big comfy chair in the living room and I was getting his soup for him, so he would not have to get up.

I had his bowl of beans in one hand and was fishing a spoon out of the kitchen drawer when Mom stopped me.

"No Hon, don't use any of those for your Dad, he has to have his special spoon."


She handed me a spoon that did not match any of the rest.


"Don't ask me why, but you Dad has to have THAT spoon with soup."

I just stared at her ...

What are the odds of that?

The Rainbow Connection

Late in the day, a week or so ago, I found the end of the rainbow. It was in my backyard about 10 feet from an old aquarium full of rainwater, minnows, and snails.

Curiously, there was no pot of gold present.

98 Candles, Or Just 14?

We celebrate Flounder's birthday on MLK day so the big guy is officially 14 years old now.

At 14, he is blind and deaf, but I can't see that his amazing canine nose is diminished at all. He can't keep up with Bear and I on our runs, but he tracks us, nose down, following our every turn and twist.

He's wobbley when he walks, but he walks and even does a little canter at times. His hips are weak, but apparently not painful. A back rub causes him to just collapse to the ground, followed by vigorous rolling around. (that's happened to me before too ... heehee)

Junior thinks he's faking the frail old dog act as he caught Flounder in the act of knocking over an outside trash can for fermenting goodies this weekend.

I thought he might whither away after his sister Feather died a few months ago, ... they were so inseparable.

That didn't happen and he seems pretty content to spend his days sleeping on the porch and getting scritches and rubs from his family.

We are pretty content to just keep loving him.

Sandblasting Cannonballs

In a coastal morphology course at UWF, taught by a geologist named J.P. Morgan, I formally learned something that growing up on the beach had already taught me. (now THAT is a sentence.) If I remember correctly, Professor Morgan had taught at LSU before coming to UWF.

On a chilly November morning, J.P. had us on Pensacola beach pointing out the scarp where powerful winter waves had cut into the slope. His message, "Summer beaches are depositional, winter beaches are erosional." In general, the energy of winter storms and nor'easters removed sand from the beach slope, while the gentler waves of summer pushed sand back on to the slope.

(Summer hurricane strikes are special events that cause both dramatic erosion and depositional changes, but they are the exception rather than the rule.)

JP would have loved the beach I was on yesterday. It was demonstrating everything he had said about the winter beach. Everywhere along that beach, a sharp escarpment, a miniature sand cliff, separated the upper beach from the intertidal zone.

The dunes closest to the sea were carved in half by an earlier storm, exposing their loess layers for all to see.

An offshore wind was blowing hardwon summer sand out to sea, biting my bare ankles and sugar coating all the flotsam.


This upside down Cannonball Jellyfish was frosted with sand crystals.


The whispy, white mist is actually swirls of sand blowing from the dune line to the Atlantic.

The waves and the wind were going head to head. The waves won, but the wind turned the spray around and sent it packing.

Here is a cannonball jelly plucked fresh from the water. Any jellyfish is essentially, (even more than us) a bit of living seawater. Some jellyfish are as much as 98% water. Cannonballs are the body builders of the jellyfish world, with a firm rubbery body that is high in collagen.

They are fished commercially for the (mostly) Asian market. Growing up, I would have laughed in your face if you said people actually eat jellyfish. That was my ignorance of course, turns out millions of people munch jellies.

I am not one of them.

So ...

...do cannonballs sting?

Depends.

I have handled a bazillion of them with no sting.

My assumption has always been that their nematocysts are too weak to penetrate tough ol'human skin.

If you research them on the internet, the articles speak of a stinging toxin and effects on the cardiac system.

Huh?

I do have this one bit of direct evidence of their sting.

Years ago, when Junior was a tadpole of about 8, I found a cannonball jelly in the shallows. Junior and his sisters were frisking in the surf like a pod of dolphins who just found a school of mullet. I called the kids over and held the jelly upside down, giving them a brief lesson on Cnidaria. They were good sports and listened even though they wanted to be back splashing in the waves and flexing their inner dorsal fins.

They asked a few questions, touched the jellyfish, and giggled at the rubbery feel of it.

The upside down cannonball was essentially a bowl and was holding about a pint of seawater. At the conclusion of my lesson, I dumped the water on Junior's belly. That was their cue to run laughing back into the waves.

Junior came back within two minutes, complaining of a burning, itching belly ... classic jellysting symptoms.

Severe parental guilt ensued. It seems that young human bellyskin is more sensitive than tough old hand skin. The jelly water probably contained detached nematocysts (stinging cells) which activated against his 8 year old skin.

We fixed the sting with a trip to Dairy Queen, but it changed my opinion of cannonball stingnicity.

Not for me of course, I still handle them, but I no longer dump them on small children.

If we peek under the cannonball jelly's skirt, we can see the inner workings. Cannonballs actively swim by pumping water and they congregate in vast schools. As they work through the water column, they are constantly slurping up the planktonic larvae of all manner of fish, molluscs, and crustaceans.

In turn, they are preyed upon by seaturtles ... especially leatherbacks. As I mentioned earlier, they are also preyed upon by us, mostly for the Asian market.

You can find them, packaged and dried, in your local Asian grocery store.

If you find them, enjoy! Along with beche de mer, urchin gonads, and cauliflower, it's a gustatory experience that I don't care to have.

Birds For Belle

Last December, these sandhills were feeding in the shallows at Payne's Prairie. It was a grey day, and they were too far away to photograph with photographic heat I carry, but I couldn't resist.

I cropped it a lot, and it doesn't really stand up to my sharpness standards for PF, but it does convey the steely grey winter prairie feeling.




Little blue herons are a favorite of mine.

All that delicate sleek beauty ... actually just the highly refined tools of the minnow killer.

Once I posted a pic of a little blue and a very talented glass artist down in Tampa turned the image into a masterpiece of glass that sits on my mantle today.

Notice the frost burned exotic water hyacinths little blue is traipsing through? THAT was before the big freeze of last week, so I'm hoping their out of place butts are toast right now.




Glossy ibis are a treat around here. This one was busy noodling for crawfish and other tasties in the canal that follows the dike at Payne's Prairie.




Glossy ibis have a really neat color scheme ... greens, reds, browns ... this photo, taken on that gloomy, grey December '09 day doesn't really do justice to the "glossy" aspect.






Above a common egret (hey! who you calling common?!) striding through the pennywort.

Notice how the native plants are all nice and green?

All together now, "That's because they belong here."



Like I said, it was a low light grey day, and I had to work for a decent photo, so you're not seeing all the deletes I chunked. (well, ...duh, FC)
The Cooper Hawk shot from a few days ago made the whole day a success and IT happened as I was leaving. That is so often the case, ... hours out there searching, and then, one moment makes it all worthwhile.



Those photos are for Belle, who mentioned in a comment that the Prairie is a special place for her and her Beau.



In other news ...



I'm on the road this weekend, looking for critters, photos, maybe a little adventure. So far, the weather was not very cooperative, but today is looking good. In a few moments, I'm blowing this Popsicle stand with free wifi and getting back out there.



(Note: blueberry scones at Barnes and Noble can NOT compete with those at Mercier's Orchards in Blue Ridge, Georgia. The green tea is outstanding though.)



My soccer girls have completed their regular season and have only a tournament to deal with next Tuesday. They are seeded against the very best team in the first match of the tournament, so my soccer sojourn probably ends sometime Tuesday evening.



I know coaches aren't supposed to think that way, but I'm a science guy first and I can not ignore existing evidence.

I know this though, the ladies will give it everything they've got ... and that will be quite enough for me.



Rambling thoughts fueled by Tenbucks coffee ...

• Ever read "Dog On It" ... a detective story narrated by the detective's dog? I picked it up last night and so far, it seems like a fun read ... of course I'm a complete sucker for a dog story.

• Kevin, a single volume complete Conan series is on the discount rack (SACRILEGE!) at BN.

• Belle, I'll speak about tilapia growing soon. Just got my new permit from the state and will be installing fingerlings in my classroom fish farm ASAP.

• Running free this long weekend is fun, but I am experiencing Bear withdrawals.

Time for me to skedaddle, but I will bring back something to share with ya.

(spellcheck put one "e" in skeedaddle, I preferred two.)

Chet The Smooth Ibis

He: "So, it's decided then, we are going to the lily pad slough for snails and crawfish."
She: "Yes, that's fine."


He: "It's this way."
She:"No, I believe this is the way to the slough."
He: "I KNOW it's this way."
She: "You could ask that heron for directions."
He: "I don't need to ask anyone for directions, I KNOW how to get there."
She: " You're just being stubborn, Bill."
He: " Bill? My name is Chet."
She: "CHET? Oh ... I'm so sorry, all you white ibis look alike."
He: "No, problem babe, ... you come here often?"
She: "Oh yes, we single girls flock to this place every evening."

He: "Soooo, where did you say this lily pad place is?"

She: " That way ... we take a right here and it's not far at all."



He: "Lead the way babe. You can tell me about yourself while we walk."

Stress Fractures

Thanks for all of the ID help yesterday on that hawk.

I am going with Coopers, which was my original opinion too.

If you came here thinking I broke a bone, I apologize.

(not apologizing for the lack of broken bones, just the deceptive title)

I've never broken a bone (Drink your American milk!) ... unless having part of your finger sheared off counts as a break ... seems more like cutting bone than breaking ... anyway, it's back on so no biggie.

The stress fractures on exhibit today are the kind found in shifting ice.

Now bear in mind, this is Florida ice, so you Yanks can stop laughing at it's thickness. You Floridians can gasp along in amazement with me.

Before I explain what's about to happen in the video, let me just say that the ice yesterday was record breaking in it's thicknomagnificentness!

My koi pond had ice over an inch thick!

Heck yeah, I know I mentioned this in the comments yesterday, but DANG!

This is Florida and FC has been here since 3:00 am one cold night in 1958. I've seen multiple Florida snow events since then, but never the consistently freezing temps to produce PACK ICE.

We are all in awe this winter.

Okay, back to the video.

You went ahead and watched it already didn't you?

Fess up.

That's okay. The tank in the video is an aquaculture tank I installed in the 90's to grow tilapia. It has a bottom drain in it that is activated by a simple knife valve outside of the tank. Last week, just on a whim, I opened the drain.

When the ice began to groan and complain, I thought, "VIDEO!"

I had to shorten it a bit, but if you have a minute or two to watch ice relieving it's stress, then sit back and enjoy.

Cooper's Hawk (?) At Payne's Prairie

Birders, help me out here.
Is this rascal a Cooper's?



It's not a puzzler, I'm looking for either validation or correction.

Close Shave Puzzler

Hmmmm.

What could this mean?