signs all around us

It's true, our American political landscape is littered with on-the-down-low corporatists who seem to despise the common man.

Our oceans are filling with oil, and natural resources and possibly unknown species of deep sea fish are being destroyed daily.

I worry for my children's future and their right to live on a planet where they can breathe clean air and drink non-toxic water.

Combine that with the usual annoyances like bikini razor burn, oily skin and pimples at age 38, and an informidable flea takeover of my house since we brought home two cats.

It can be upsetting...sometimes infuriating. (I keep finding little curly black pieces of flea shit on my kitchen table after I've shooed a sleeping cat off, and it's grossing me out. This seems to be one of the joys of living in sub-tropical Tennessee.)

But life doesn't stop. It can't stop, or we've lost the battle. I won't stop being silly here, or anywhere, although sometimes I may get into a little ranting funk. But lucky for everyone who reads this blog, I usually reserve my diatribes for facebook, where I think I secretly enjoy aggravating online "friends."

We can't allow ourselves to quit looking at the world with a sense of wonder. Anger and disappointment aside, there is something new and beautiful to be discovered each day.

Now I know I'm seriously late with posting some Nashville flood photos. But does anyone care anymore? They're interesting photos, if for nothing more than historical significance.

But today, I have something more timely to share with you--signage highlights from my recent trip through Virginia on our way to D.C.

If you want to see stuff like this, you have to get off the highway...there's just no other way.

Every state likes to act all normal from the safe and impersonal confines of the high-speed roads, but once you get to really know that state...well, you know what I mean.

Okay, this one isn't weird. It was late afternoon and we had just arrived at the Virginia state line. I found the cloud behind the sign to be breathtaking. I love cumulonimbus. No, the rest stop didn't smell bad, so I still had breath to behold the cloud. Although Tennessee has much nicer waysides--ours smell like potpourri and ham, and they have rocking chairs too, just like at Cracker Barrel!

I did not note any sort of crumpacking factory in the area. Apparently, in the early colonial days of Virginia, there was a Dutch Crumpacker dynasty going on, with family members soldiering and farming and all that good colonial stuff, later emigrating to Indiana where they became all political. Are you questioning whether or not I need to get a life? Because I am.

I begged my husband to stop so I could get a photo of this sign. What sort-of name was that for a state park anyways? I thought it was pretty funny. I guess anyone would think that if they didn't know the story behind the name. It's actually very sad. This story would make a good bluegrass or folk song.

The Legend of Hungry Mother

Legend has it that when the Native Americans destroyed several settlements on the New River south of the park, Molly Marley and her small child were among the survivors taken to the raiders’ base north of the park. They eventually escaped, wandering through the wilderness eating berries. Molly finally collapsed, and her child wandered down a creek until the child found help. The only words the child could utter were "Hungry Mother." The search party arrived at the foot of the mountain where Molly collapsed to find the child's mother dead. Today that mountain is Molly’s Knob, and the stream is Hungry Mother Creek.

(copied from http://www.dcr.virginia.gov/state_parks/hun.shtml)

Southern food and gasoline in one place! Sure beats the usual gas station taquitos.

Have a great week! I'm off to stir my enchilada sauce :-)

cabbage worm invasion

The heart of organic gardening goes beyond a desire for natural, pesticide- and chemical-free food. What it ultimately encompasses is the belief that all creatures have a purpose in this world and each is essential to the interdependent food web, and a loss of any single species of creature would throw the environment out of balance. Reaching the "end," which equates to a prosperous garden and wholesome food, should not justify an inhumane or destructive means. Each creature is precious, and no matter how annoying to our gardening activities, must be dealt with respectfully.

Last night when I checked on my lettuce plants, they were perfect. I woke-up this morning to sheared and holey leaves and a scene of destruction:

It amazes me how fast these sneaky creatures work!

Hidden in the leaf vein, this big guy was well-concealed.

The smallest larvae were found on the underside of the leaf. This is the first place you should look when searching for the culprits. It's a good hiding spot for them, and a common area for the adult female to lay the eggs.

I've found the method that best satisfies me in my quest for completely organic gardening is to manually remove the larvae from the plants and take them to the other side of my yard. I'm still a little squirmish about touching them, so I use a narrow popsicle stick to scoop them up, then drop them into a cup. For the past few years that I've done this, I have not found repeat offenders. Next year I may grow a special "veggie butterfly garden" just for them, far away from our food, since I know that by moving them to the other side of the yard, I am essentially sentencing them to death by starvation.

How do butterflies and moths find the correct place to lay their eggs? I have only three trial lettuce plants in my backyard. How on earth did they locate them within the sprawl of suburban grass in my neighborhood?

"Because each species of butterfly or moth is adapted to eat specific species of plants, females are very selective about where they lay their eggs. These plants are called “host plants.” The female butterfly instinctively recognizes the correct leaf shape, color, odor, taste, and appearance of this host plant. Once satisfied, she lays her eggs, coating them with an adhesive that fastens them to the leaf." (http://www.flmnh.ufl.edu/education/guides/butterfly-guide.pdf)

But more specifically, the December 1985 issue of The Quarterly Review of Biology contains the essay "Communication of Insects," which goes into further detail on how larvae select suitable food for themselves, outside of the proper egg-laying site by the female moth:

"Insects recognize food and food plants by means of tactile stimuli (e.g. smooth and hairy surfaces vs. rough and hairy surfaces) and by nonvolatile chemical cues. The latter require for initial recognition some contact with the plant's surface by the antennae or by the chemosensory apparatus associated with the mouthparts. The initial contact is followed by sampling the chemicals by biting the plant."

Once the larva breaks the surface of the plant, amino acids, steroids, salts, sugars and other complex chemicals are released. The caterpillar has specific gustatory receptors to respond to them. This is how they know which food they should be eating. In addition to biting, simply tasting the plant food source can give feeding clues:

"Host-plant selection requires biting to release the soluble signals, whereas cuticular cues can be tasted directly from the surface. [Larvae and adult moths] can identify ovipositional stimulants, feeding stimulants, antifeedants, repellents, and toxins."


Just a little bit of research a day is all it takes to gain a greater appreciation of the common things in our lives that we see everyday but don't have any personal knowledge about.

Humans have sought to harness and control the wilderness since the beginning of time. But ruling over nature can have harmful, long-lasting, and irreversible effects. It's much better for everyone involved--meaning all of the creatures that live and breathe on this blue earth--for us to try and gain a greater understanding of other species, which will in turn bring about environmental harmony. To do otherwise will bring destruction for all, including us. We must learn to reconnect with our natural world.