Why We Have To Have Those Nerdy Scientific Names

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I've noticed that nature bloggers tend to be taxonomists. Many always include a scientific name along with the common name. This may seem poindextery nerdy at first, but there are some pretty valid reasons for including the scientific name. That said, I usually don't, mainly due to being too lazy to look up the ones I don't know by heart.

(Actually, I think there are more important things to know by heart, like your children's friend's names, your anniversary date, and where the living room tv remote is.)

The fact is, we need those "official" names to eliminate the confusion of different languages and localized common names. Common names are what grandpappy called that flower, bug, snake, etc. He told your Dad and he passed it on to you. The problem is other grandpappys (and grandmammies) were sharing their knowledge with their children also.

The photo above is of a series of sandy mounds left by the pocket gopher (a mammal), which around here would just be called a gopher by most people, but oldtimers might call the same animal a "salamander". The salamander moniker comes as a corruption of "sandy mounder". Try saying it quickly. Seeeee? Just to confuse the issue, we also have a reptile, a tortoise, called a gopher and it too digs burrows and will make mounds of sand around it's burrow entrance. Lots of room for confusion here and we are still in the same language...

My favorite example of a cacaphony of common names for the same animal is the mountain lion, cougar, puma, panther, painter, cat o'mount, wildcat....whew! Same cat...different regions of the country.

Scientific names are decided by Gandalf The White and there are certain rules you must obey to use them correctly. It's not complicated.

Rule # 1: The standard scientific name has 2 parts. (yes, sometimes more, nerds)

Rule # 2: The first name is the genus and is always capitalized. This name represents a group of closely related organisms...kind of like your family surname.

Rule # 3: The second name is the species and is never capitalized. This is more like your first name, a more specific identifier.

Rule # 4: When you write a scientific name, you should underline or use italics.

This is wrong: Tursiops truncatus
This is right: Tursiops truncatus

Taxonomic trivia: Latin is used mostly. It's partly tradition and partly due to Latin being a "dead" language. Making it the official taxonomic language won't offend the Brits, Chinese, French, Russians, etc.

If this seems confusing, don't blame me.

Blame Linnaeus.

Deer Readers

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Florida deer tend to run small compared to other states. I don't know the reason for that. It could be poor nutrition due to our soils. I have never researched it, but I know that my deer hunting friends love to go to GA or SC where the deer are much bigger on the average.

This little deer is looking a kind of scruffy. Maybe it's ticky. I took this photo at Manatee Springs State Park which is tickiest place I have ever tromped through. I have literally sat a picnic table in the park and watched ticks crawling towards me through the leaf litter.

A coworker of mine, Bobby, was on his way to hunt deer in Georgia when he saw a large 12 point buck that had apparently just been struck on the side of the road. Being an avid deer hunter, he pulled over thinking he could salvage one of the beautiful antlers.

Bobby got out of his truck, walked to the deer, and took hold of an antler. He gave it a mighty twist to snap it off.

That was when the huge buck stood up.

Now Bobby had his hands full of the pointy end of a confused, ticked off deer. Apparently, this deer wasn't killed instantly when it was struck. They stared at each other face to face. Bobby hung on for a moment, afraid to let go, and then the deer collapsed again...this time for good.

He showed me the antler as he told me this story so it must be true.

Aren't all hunting and fishing tales true?

It's Strawberry Season!

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These beauties are Plant City Strawberries from south of here. They were from a local fruit stand and even though their size is silly big, they were red all the way through and actually tasted like strawberries. What a great way to get your daily dose of red antioxidant nutrients.

Like other fruits, the strawberry harvest will move up the peninsula as the calendar progresses. Plant City is a big strawberry center with lots of farms. As their season begins to wane, the small town of Starke (up here in nawth Florida) will begin to come on line with their harvest.

Strawberries reproduce mostly by vegetative propagation. Essentially, the parent plant puts out runners that root where they touch the ground and produce new plants. These new plants are what you buy as bundles of strawberry "sets" at the feed store or nursery.

Eventually, the strawberry harvest will move beyond Florida and you snowbirds will be eating locally grown berries while ours are but a pleasant, distant memory.

In other "plants as prey" news, my carrots, mesclun mix, snow peas, spinach, and lettuce ( green ice and black seeded simpson) are all up and doing well. The collard transplants are only down by one (armadillo digging crushed it) and are getting bigger.

My blueberries have bloomed, but the earliest lost some blooms to a hard freeze about 10 days ago. That pretty apple blossom I posted a while back on the signs of spring post....frost killed.

Wild hog plums are aglow with white clouds of blossoms. Sparkleberry, redbuds, and jessamine are dressing up the woods.

On my black cherry trees, the tentworms showed up in tiny colonies about 4 days before the tender new black cherry leaves burst from their buds. Talk about timing your eggs!

Getting back to strawberries, I like 'em best just like in the picture...fresh and plain.

What's your favorite way to eat strawberries? 

I May Not Be Sophisticated

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Occasionally, while reading other blogs, I get the feeling that I may be an unsophisticated nabob.
Could it be that choosing a life here on the Florida frontier has made me as out of place in hip society as Ma & Pa Kettle? I started pondering the possiblility and I came up with a list of "characteristics" that seem to show I am not likely to be doing any power lunches at Chez Glitz.

1) I used a laptop for the first time Thursday.
(Did you know they fold up?)

2) I had my first biscotti last weekend.
(Are they supposed to be stale?)

3) I still use 35mm film.
( The girl at the one hour photo center needs a job and she's my ex-student)

4) I never learned to tie a necktie.
(This flaw gets me face to face with my wife, who did learn)

5) I don't enjoy beers that taste like burnt wood.
(Whose BRILLIANT idea was that?)

6) I like wine that tastes like fruit.
(You know that white zinfandel with the screw top? I like it.)

7) I still use dial up.
(My only option would be direcway satellite, kind'a pricey)

8) I go from confident guy, ready for anything, to indecisive wobbler when I enter a Starbucks.
(Coffee, C-O-F-F-E-E, I just want a coffee)

9) I hate salad forks.
( I can't stand a short fork, and why must we dirty two forks?)

10) I hate musicals.
(The suspension of reality required to really get into a movie vanishes as soon as two people begin singing to each other.)

So, there it is. There are other things, but no need to overshare. I imagine the photo above points out one last unsophisticated characteristic (besides having a cluttered kitchen table)...

...I think cheap champagne goes great with collard greens, blackeyed peas, and barbeque ribs on New Years.
 

A Friday Puzzler

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Here's a Friday puzzler for you.

What in the world is that thing?

It's being held by a few cropped and anonymous ex-students of mine on a fieldtrip to Cedar Key. (That was a vague and mostly useless clue)

Update with answer coming later this evening.


UPDATE TO THE PUZZLER: ...AND THE ANSWER IS.....JEEZ, I WAS JUST GOING FOR BATFISH, BUT THEN YOU NERDS STARTING BANDYING ABOUT "POLKA DOT" AND "SHORT NOSED" ....THIS PHOTO IS TWO YEARS OLD AND THE ANGLE ISN'T GREAT FOR CHECKING THE FINS FOR POLKADOTS. MY UF FISH SITE SAYS THE POLKA DOT BATFISH IS RARE...THESE GUYS ARE VERY COMMON AT CEDAR KEY...I'M LEANING TOWARDS SHORTNOSE, BUT IT IS DEFINITELY A NICE LITTLE BATFISH. WE DID RETURN HIM TO THE SEA AND HE HOPPED AWAY. THAT'S RIGHT, HE HOPPED AWAY. SLOWLY. YOU CAN WALK UP TO A BATFISH AND PICK HIM UP.

I THINK WAYNE GETS THE 'FIRSTEST WITH THE MOSTEST AWARD ON THIS PUZZLER. GOOD BACKUP FROM THE REST OF THE ICHTHYOLOGISTS WHO COMMENTED.

DYNAMIC DUO = BATFISH AND SEA ROBIN... I need a sea robin pic.

THANKS FOR PLAYING!

Home Sweet Home

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This is our house. The view is from the south looking north. The porch wraps around this south side and the front, which faces east. It's a fairly hard house to photograph because of the shade tossed at it by large oaks.

I actually like the shade in this picture since it's hiding beaucoup stuff stacked all over the porch.

When we first moved on to this property with one toddler and one baby on the way, we lived in a 42 foot single wide for a year or so. The house seemed enormous when the kids were small and our brains were still used to the single wide mobile home. Now, everybody is bigger and we realize, it's a pretty small, but very cozy house by modern standards. Hence all the interior remodeling that I write about from time to time.

Essentially, we have been trying to make new space without the new mortgage expense of a major addition. That is still in progress, (my surgery put a hold on remodeling for a month) and good progress was made this week.

Unfortunately, I was reminded recently, that we have neglected the outside as we focused on the interior. The girl's boyfriends were visiting last weekend (it's okay...they're pretty nice boys) and we were watching some of our older family home videos.

At one point, a view of the front yard and house came on the video and almost simultaneously both of the boyfriends said, " Is that this house?"

Translation: "Gee, the yard and the porch looked a lot better back then."

In truth, it did. The video was a summer scene with green freshly mowed grass, a picket fence long gone added a nice framing effect, and the cedar siding was freshly stained...oh yeah, and the porch was not full of tools, compound miter saw, dry wall scraps,lumber, and my weight machine.

It was a wake up call.

The "Honey Do" list just got longer.

Real Men Don't....except when it comes to their daughters

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It used to be, that if I needed to remoisten my contacts, I could just close my eyes and think of my best dog Ranger. He's been gone for about 5 years now, but it always seems to work.

Last Friday, I discovered another way. The workday was over and I was alone at my computer trying to write the text for Katie's senior page in the yearbook. A senior page is a full page tribute to your graduating senior that parents create. The page is a photo collage with a "We're so proud" type letter from the parents. The pictures for Katie's page had been chosen and the yearbook teacher told me that she needed the text to complete the page. The deadline was close, could I do it before I went home for the weekend?

So, there I was, staring at a monitor and trying to put into words what a wonder a daughter is, how proud we are of her, how happy we are for this milestone she is approaching. This was a lot tougher than I thought it would be. Her senior year had always been this point far in the future, a sort of nebulous destination that seemed light years away. Yet, here I was...

I scrolled through her pictures looking for inspiration. Some bit of chalk dust must have drifted into my eyes, they began to water. I typed a little, but then more of that damn chalk dust must have entered my throat, because I had a lump in it. I got up and locked the classroom door.

I sat down and resumed typing my Katie tribute. Stupid chalk dust! Now my eyes were leaking, my nose sniffling, and I had a lump the size of a roundrock in my throat. I grabbed a paper towel, wiped and blew.

Deep breath now as I wrote about this baby, this toddler, this child, this teen, this young woman. Like every parent who gets to this point, I can't believe we HAVE gotten to this point, and yet here we are. I think I had ignored that fact until that moment.

It was hitting home pretty hard, and in that empty classroom, I reached for a wad of paper towels and kept writing. Finally, I finished. I rinsed my face in the lab sink, did some deep breathing, slapped on a pair of dark shades and headed up the hall to the yearbook sponsor's classroom.

She took the paper and read it. She looked at me. She hugged me.

She knew.

Shhhh...Don't Tell The Florida Tourism Department

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Not to burst anybody's balloon, but it gets cold as a dreamsicle fresh out of the freezer down here in Florida. Last week had us in the mid-20's for a couple of nights and the highs barely hit 50. It's a damp cold too that gets in ya'.

The picture is of Emma and Kate scraping the ice off their truck before driving to school. They're using their drivers licenses or some other plastic card from their purses...we don't usually carry ice scrapers in our Florida cars.

Florida freezes...just ask my severely frost-nipped banana trees.

Pelicanepathy

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I was standing on the fishing pier (old A1A bridge remnant) not long ago, taking pix of people luckier than me...they were fishing, when I noticed a Brown Pelican giving me the eye.

That's pretty normal, pier pelicans are the worst form of street hustler. Catch a fish, they are right there with the poor pitiful me look. Reach in the bucket for a piece of fishy bait...same thing. Occasionally, they get a little pushy and wave that hooked bill and flap that 6 foot wingspan.

This guy was more introspective and as I got closer for a photo, he spoke.
"That's close enough buddy", he blinked and turned to face me.

Now, I've had these animal to human conversations before, so I took it in stride. What was different this time was the fact that his "lips" didn't move when he "talked".

"Dude, are you telepathic?" I thought.

"We prefer to call it pelicanepathic" He preened a little.

Now this was good, very good. Usually I try to be away from people when discoursing with animals...and especially with plants or fungi, because of the "psycho maniac nutcase" label which I am trying to avoid. Here, I could have a "discussion" covertly in public.

I tried some polite chit chat thoughts, " So how's it going?"

" Not too bad, the spring run of mullet hasn't begun yet, but these pier fishers toss me the pinfish and small stuff. It's nice not to work so hard for a change."

"You're lookin' kind of "fluffy", are you sure that's good for you? Aren't you worried about losing your skills or getting a little out of shape?"

"A little, but the pier is empty often, so I still work for a living...excuse me just a minute." The man nearby was unhooking a small grunt and the pelican opened his bill to catch the proffered fish. It disappeared with a swallow.

"So is it hard catching fish the way you do, spotting them from above and dropping out of the sky?" I pretended to fiddle with the camera as a lady nearby was staring at the bird and I. Unfortunately, I could not tell what she was thinking. I just hoped it didn't start with "psycho, nutcase..."

The pelican drew me back, "Like most things, it looks tough from the outside, and like most things it takes some practice to be good at it. From above, the fish are easier to see..."

"Like when I bungee a step ladder in my Carolina Skiff so I can get higher to see fish cruising the flats." I interjected.

" Yes, now try not to interrupt." He fixed me with a pelican glare. "As I was saying, the fish can be seen easier..."

"What about their countershading?" I thought blurted. "Sorry...it's harder to control thoughts than tongue..."

"Yes, well countershading of course is a defense many fish have evolved that makes my job more difficult in deep water. Having a dark top half helps them blend in with the darker, deep water background..."

"...and the light underside protects them from fishy predators looking up into the bright surface background...oops, dang, this pelicanepathy is hard to get used to." I stared at my feet.

"Well, some master it faster than others, that's for sure." He had a smirk on his bill now. How did he do that? He continued, "Countershading is an excellent defense true, but it has flaws and it can be used offensively too. Have you noticed my countershading?"

"Yes, I had...um, I suppose it helps you be less obvious to a fish looking up into the brightness, what about this flaw of countershading?"

He was stroking his bill near his tail now and I wasn't sure if I should be looking or not. He sensed my awkwardness.

"My oil glands are back there, I have to stay waterproof you know." He raised a wing and rubbed his oily bill over it. "The wonderful flaw in countershading occurs over shallow light colored sea bottom like at the beach or over the tidal flats. Sure, the fish can adjust their pigment some, but overall, their darker backs stand out like grapes in chicken salad."

"Man, I hate that when people mess up good chicken salad with grapes or nuts... hey wait a minute. You eat chicken salad?"

"They don't toss me just fish you know, I get left over lunch scraps too."

"That can't be good for you."

"And that Snicker's bar you are eating? Is that good for you?"

"Touchet" I looked at my watch. "Well, I've gotta be going...just one more thing."

"Yes"

"Has anyone ever told you that you really look like a pteradactyl?"

"Oh, if I had a mullet for everytime I've heard that one..."

Here's A Family Picture While I Make A Cake

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This picture has nothing to do with this post, which is not really a post as much as an excuse. It's my bride's birthday and I don't have enough butter or sour cream in the house to make her poppyseed cake that she requested. So I'm off 15 miles to the nearest grocery store. Arrrghhhh!

I hope she likes the new table saw I got her...something we can enjoy together.

UPDATE: THE CAKE MAKING WENT WELL. THE FLOUR WAS FLUFFY, THE SUGAR WAS SUGARY, AND THE EGG WHITES WHIPPED COOPERATIVELY INTO STIFF PEAKS...this was no mix cake, it's the recipe on the back of the SOLO poppyseed filling label.

I'm Special!

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My new tag.

My state has about 2,499,872 specialty tags. There's tags for education, astronaut memorials, manatees, panthers, college teams, NFL teams, whales, social causes, coral reefs, the Indian River lagoon, flat tires, soup spoons, and dry roasted peanuts. ( Well, there probably will be soon)

Our almost totally corrupt, lobbyist infested state legislature loves making these, because it makes some group happy at home (= votes).
That said, these tags are not a bad idea. There have been a few that bounced around in the separation of church/state area, but they were reworded in more generic ways or withdrawn.

The positive thing about them besides getting something besides our generic orange symbol (which looks like a peach) is that the extra money spent goes to the cause represented by your tag.

They finally made a specialty tag for me.

I love the sea, fish, and really love the idea of farming aquatic animals instead of market hunting, which is what commercial fisherfolk do.We banned the market hunting of land mammals and birds a hundred years ago. If people felt warm fuzzies for scaley, coldblooded fish the way they do for the furry and feathery clans, there would be no driftnets or trawls stripping the ocean of it's inhabitants.

Alas, we are highly biased in favor of our warmblooded cousins. Couple that with the fact that fish live in a separate earth, mostly unseen, and it's not hard to see why they are essentially out of sight...out of mind.

Okay, ...I was soapboxing. I really just wanted to show you my cool new tag. The extra money I paid for the tag instead of buying my wife a nice dinner out will go to support Harbor Branch Oceanographic aquaculture research. Of course the actual tag has letters and numbers not black blotches. That was just for a little privacy.

...I'm still not sure if any of you are internet stalker ax murderers who hate fish.

Waterfront Condo For Rent

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If you snowbirds get tired of grey slush, here's a nice breezy condo on the water.

Getting Ready For Melons

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Our county is a major melon producer and each melon farmer gambles on getting the melon crop in as early as possible in the season. If you have a good crop early, you will enjoy premium prices for your fruit. A delay of even a few weeks can allow other farmers a little farther north to dilute the melon market so much that it's literally not worth it to harvest. At that point melons are left to rot.

I posted this field earlier.

Since then the field has been neatly plowed, rowed, probably fertilized, and plastic mulch has been laid down. The mulch will warm the soil since this will be an early planting. It will also hold soil moisture and reduce some of the fungi disease problems we have.

Surprisingly, one of the watermelon pests is the coyote. They will roam the field, taking bites out of random melons.

Melons are planted as young transplants, one day the black plastic is vacant and waiting, the next day it's dotted with tiny green plants.

I'll try to post a shot once in a while as this field metamorphoses.

Testing The Waters

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The photo above shows a recent dissolved oxygen test of my catfish pond. There are all kinds of water test kits out there and they have gotten more user friendly in the past decade. This kit uses small glass ampules that are filled with an indicator solution. When mixed with a water sample, the indicator will change color to "indicate" the amount of dissolved oxygen present. There is also a partial vaccuum in the ampule.

To test a sample, you fill a small vial with 25mL of the water to be tested. Then the ampule is inserted into the vial with the long skinny end of the ampule down in the vial. A little pressure breaks the sealed tip of the ampule allowing the right amount of your water sample to be pushed into the ampule due to the slight vaccuum in the ampule.
The ampule is then inverted a few times to mix things. Wait two minutes and then compare the color in the ampule to the color comparison set.

There's some judgement at this point depending on how color blind you are...but essentially the comparison tube closest to your sample color will tell you dissolved oxygen in ppm...parts per million.

My sample last Saturday at midmorning seemed to be between 6 and 8 ppm. The fish seemed happy and active with this level.

In a pond, oxygen levels will rise and fall with time of day. Typically, dissolved oxygen is highest during the peak photosynthesis hours and drops off at night when oxygen is being used, but photosynthesis has gone into idle. If you are going to have a low oxygen fish kill in your pond, it will probably happen in the morning since the fish were using it all night even though little oxygen was being released by plants in the dark.
The graph below (which I borrowed from the University of Florida/IFAS program) shows how oxygen levels change diurnally.












This applies to goldfish bowls with a fish and a plant, backyard goldfish ponds in Washington state or Pinellas county, empty (except for otters) fish ponds in Alabama, a frozen headwater lake in Michigan, aquaculture wannabe ponds in Florida,reservoirs in northern California, frozen ponds in Illinois or New York, and even potential ponds in Missouri.

One thing to remember is, plants do not make oxygen. In photosynthesis, the plant is trying to make glucose (sugar). To make a molecule of glucose, you need 6 atoms of Carbon, 12 atoms of Hydrogen, and 6 atoms of Oxygen. Photosynthesis breaks water and carbon dioxide apart to reassemble the parts (C,H,O) into glucose. After the glucose is formed there are some extra Oxygen atoms lying around and these are released as waste.

It's as if I gave you a little pirate ship made of 36 leggo blocks (that would be the water and carbon dioxide) and said tear it apart and make something new from those 36 blocks. You decide to make a cool tower (glucose molecule), but you only needed 24 blocks to make the tower perfect...the extra 12 blocks (oxygen) weren't needed. They are essentially waste as are the oxygen atoms given off by the plant in photosynthesis.

The more light, the more photosynthesis, the more waste (oxygen) the plants produce. It's easy to see why Oxygen levels in the pond climb during the day and drop at night.

Photosynthesis ...it's like a miracle, but it's not. It's a little like magic, but it's not.

It's just some fellow organisms passing gas.

Breathe deeply.

Top Ten Signs Of Spring In Pure Florida

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Here are some current signs of spring in Pure Florida:

1) Carolina jessamine blossoming in great clusters of yellow.

2) Red maples laden with clusters of red winged seeds on bare branches.

3) Blueberry blossoms swelling and opening into white promises of blue fruit.

4) Black cherry trees unfolding delicate, unblemished new leaves.

5) A lost apple tree blooming pink and leafing out in perfect green.

6) Sparkleberry trees with clumps of white blossoms even as last year's black fruits still hang.

7) Redbuds in other people's yards awash in glorious pink...not red.

8) Bream beds in the shallows of a creek.

9) Sneaky lawn grass greening and lengthening.

10) Valentines Day. Bah humbug! :)

The Wrong Funeral

Twice, my family has shown up at the wrong funeral...

The first time was when our neighbor passed away. I don't really have many neighbors due to the large tracts of land that everyone owns...that spreads us out. Still, I do have people on 3 sides and even if I only see them a few times each year, they are my neighbors.

Mr. O. was a kindly old gentleman who lived with his wife on our southern boundary. They were perfect neighbors, mostly out of sight, out of mind. Mr. O would talk to me over the fence or occasionally wander over looking for his tiny dog which was quite the escape artist. Our kids would take extra cookies over to visit once in awhile, and Mr. O and his wife went to the same church as my crew.

One day, my wife sadly informed me that Mr. O. had died. She had read the obituary notice in the local paper. The services were to be held during the work week, I couldn't make it, but my wife took the kids to say goodbye. They were pretty young, but she wanted them to be there as a comfort to Mrs. O. They were seated at the funeral feeling sad that their kind old friend had passed, when in walked Mr. O. and his wife. He saw them immediately and made a point to walk over and express his gratitude that they would come to his brother's funeral.

My wife played along as if that had been the plan all along and the kids just stared wide-eyed at him, Lazarus as it were...

Fast forward to a couple of years ago. My mom called me from St. Augustine to tell me that the father of one of my highschool buddies had died. Mr. G. was a funny part of my youth, always cracking jokes and even though I had not seen my old buddy (his son) for a long time...decades actually, I felt it was important to be there. I checked the obit for the name of the funeral home and the cemetery. The funeral was in Lake City, about 80 miles away, so I printed a map also. My ducks were in a row.

I left early on funeral day so I could find the cemetery and be on time for the 11:00 am graveside service. When I got to Lake City, the cemetery, Memorial Gardens was harder to find than I had expected. Why can't real life be more like the Mapquest maps?

Finally, I pulled into a little country store and asked about the cemetery. "Go here, take a left, go about 2 miles..." It was getting close to the 11:00 am start time so I took off in a hurry.

Finally I spotted a big cemetery, Memorial Gardens. In the center, beyond a line of parked cars, a green funeral tent was surrounded by mourners. I whipped the Jeep into the entrance, parked, and walked quickly towards the tent. I looked at my watch, 10:54 am. I had made it.

The mourners were crowded around the tent, I couldn't see the family, but I knew they were sitting up front. I walked around the back of the crowd and blended in.

The preacher ascended the little podium stand and began to speak. I glanced around me at the well dressed people...hmmm, I don't see anybody I know. Still it had been a long time and I didn't really know Mr. G's extended family. The service was going along nicely, when a young girl was introduced prior to singing a song. The preacher said, " ...and now Janet's granddaughter will sing, Amazing Grace, one of Janet's favorite songs"

Janet? Who is Janet? I began to imagine the unimaginable. Funny how the brain tries to convince you that weirdness can't really be happening. I tried to rationalize who Janet might be as the little girl sang on. Then the song was over, the young girl stepped down and the preacher began to share Janet's life story. There was no longer any denying the truth. I was at the wrong funeral. We were a good 15 minutes into the service and if I didn't leave now, right now, I would miss the funeral of my friend's dad.

So, in the height of Janet's funeral, as the preacher was telling the story of her long life, I made my plan to exit. I began easing towards the back of the crowd, still facing the preacher, but trying to get outside the crowd. It seemed to take forever. Finally, I was out. Next, I had to walk around the crowd and the tent...in front of everyone. I fixed my eyes straight ahead and walked quickly out, around, and to the Jeep. Inside, I put the key in the ignition and hesitated. There was no getting around it, I had to start it up during Janet's eulogy.

I turned the key and drove quickly through the graveyard gate. Down the road about 3 miles, I spotted the funeral home from the obit notice. I turned in and went inside. Nobody was around. There was a bell on the desk, so I rang it. A guy came out eating a peanutbutter sandwich. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here for the G. funeral and I'm late." I gasped.

"I'll say, " he munched, " It's probably almost over".

"Where is it?"

"Uptown, the Memorial cemetery across from the National Guard armory."

I ran to the Jeep and headed downtown...in lunchtime traffic now.

Finally, I spotted the armory and there in the cemetery a funeral tent. The few cars left were leaving, the rows of chairs were empty, and there beside his father's grave was my old friend...just about to leave.

He stared at me, totally surprised to see me at all, much less after the fact.

I told him the story of my morning, and there, at the graveside of his father we laughed loud and long.

I imagine that somewhere...Mr. G. was laughing too.

Last Sunday At Twig Forest

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Last Sunday, Emma and Jr. asked if we could go out to Twig Forest. It was one of those glorious blue winter days...there's only so much of wonderful winter left, so off we went.

The dirt logging road into Twiggy was a gauntlet of muddy potholes as we had just finished with 5 inches of rain the Friday before. We flew through the mud spraying it up and over the windshield, bouncing, and having a grand time.

At Twiggy, machetes were distributed and the two kids disappeared to work on a maze of trails they are cutting through the gallberry thickets. I think they have future paintball battles in mind. As on the previous visit, I could hear the ring of machete and constant laughter and teasing so I knew that they were okay.
(That last sentence probably has some child psychologist freaking out right now)

My focus was the drive into Twiggy. On a previous visit the week before BCC surgery, I had cut quite a swath through gallberry and palmetto. The goal was to find and open a simple 4WD passable trail into the property without cutting any pines as this is a working tree farm.

The gallberry bushes and the palmetto, love a pine plantation. They quickly fill in the neat open lanes between the pines if the forest is not managed actively, (remember, it's a crop in this case...not a natural forest) .

Twiggy had been left to grow before we bought it and has gall berry thickets that reach overhead. These are woven together with greenbriar and carolina jessamine. The good news is, gallberry is easy to cut. The bad news is there is a lot of it and each cut leaves a "punji" spike that could be uncomfortable if you were to trip and fall.

We stayed for a couple of hours and I almost finished the drive. There's a windblown pine to remove, a little more palmetto and then I will be out to the front of the property. I found some evidence of pine bark beetle damage, but nothing widespread. That was a reminder that I really need to contact the county forester and ask her for "I'm a new pine tree farmer, help!" advice.

I don't plan to open that last little bit until I put in a few posts and a gate to prevent "Bubba" from driving in and dumping refuse.

I may just go out there when I finish this post.

How Not To Manage A Pine Plantation

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Running through the center of this photo is a person-sized (not the driveway) trail I whacked through an overgrown gallberry thicket. Thick growth like this beneath your crop of pines can put the whole forest at risk of catastrophic fire. 

The Way Forward

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This is what I was cutting trail through. The palmetto in the foreground is 2 feet tall, so the gallberry thicket is overhead. Emma and Jr. were elsewhere cutting tunnels through this. 

Pinebark Beetle Damage

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I am assuming this is pinebark beetle damage. The vast pine monocultures that grow across the south encourage this little beetle to overpopulate and then they can really kill large swaths of pines.

In a natural mixed forest, they spread less easily, and there are simply fewer of them.

Cause and effect. 

Puzzler Answer: The Fiddler Crab

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This little guy is the answer to the burrow puzzler, part A. You can tell this is a male fiddler crab by the one large claw which is used to wave at girl fiddlers in an attempt to lure them to his burrow to see his etchings.

B part answer: The little balls are produced by the fiddler feeding on detritus and other organic material in the marsh mud.

Thanks for playing.

Don't be crabby if you didn't get this one right, there will be more. 

Thursdays Vanished Puzzler And A Powerful Winter Storm One County Away

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This photo was the Thursday puzzler that vanished in a stream of electrons as soon as I clicked publish.

The puzzler has two parts, A) Whose burrow is this? B) What are those little balls?

Not as tough as the black drum teeth puzzler.

Meanwhile,
A strong winter storm is coming and is one county above us as I check out my Weatherbug radar. After this storm moves through, we are forecast to have our coldest temps of the season...mid 20's. Our county is also under coastal flood and wind advisories. The strongest winds from the West/ Northwest will coincide with a high tide, so seas will be running higher than normal.

Before this storm gets here, I need to bring more firewood up on the porch and secure a few things around the place.


I'll post the answer to the puzzler later this evening.

Soil Profile NonMeme

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So I was down at the pond feeding the bream little balls of white bread and timing how many seconds they could sink through the clear water before they were eaten...(" This is William Beebe in the bathysphere, I am descending and am currently at a depth of ...Oh my god! A giant fish ...arrrgh........." ) and it occured to me that a soil profile nonmeme might be something to share.

All it takes is a shovel, and a ruler for scale. If you want to play, give us a look at your soil, say at least 12 inches deep...don't hurt yourself, but go deeper if you want.

This profile is at my shooting range. I will post a closer image sans my profile and avec a ruler next.


FYI: Few of the bread ball bathyspheres descended more than 3 seconds before being eaten. 

Sandy Soil Profile

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This is pretty typical of anywhere on my place. Recently (geologically) exposed seabottom sands. This is about 2 feet deep, but if I dig deeper, I would pass through about two more feet of sand with the last layer becoming white like sugar. Beneath that layer...say 4- 5 feet down, I hit a 6 inch layer of yellow marine clay. Just below that is chalky limerock laced with marine fossils from the Eocene Era. I have never made it through the limerock....not sure what lies beneath, but I picture lots of limerock to go.

I haven't dug yet at Twig Forest, but I will.

The Big Picture

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Wayne of the large and deeply fissured cortex, recently challenged bloggers to post their watersheds. This is my attempt.

The map above shows major watersheds of the state. We are very flat topographically speaking and our streams are mostly slow moving and in no particular hurry to lose their individuality by joining the ocean.

With little topographic relief, much of our water tends to hang around in the form of swamps and ponds where it gradually seeps into the ground rather than running off. Couple the flatness with sandy porous soil and you get a lot of seepage downward rather than overland flow.

In the map above, the Suwannee River Watershed is mine. I'm down in the southern portion of the watershed just above the Withlacoochee and Crystal River watersheds..

An Interstate Watershed

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This map zooms us in a little closer to focus on the Suwannee River Watershed. You can see that it crosses the state line and much of our water is coming from Georgia. The Okeefenokee Swamp on the Florida - Georgia line acts as an enormous sponge and is the origin of the Suwannee River. Along the way, the Suwannee picks up water from many tributaries as well as dozens of our famous Florida springs.

Satellite View Of The Suwannee River Basin

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Here's what the Suwannee River basin looks like from atop my very tall extension ladder.