Got a nice mention in the Minneapolis Star-Tribune’s WebSearch blog, along with a handful of other US nature bloggers. Thanks to Randy Salas.
Wampum has just gone what the optimistic would refer to as “on hiatus.” is down one blogger, as MB has decided to hang it up. Say something nice to them, or just go look at the photo that — finally — made me pine for something other than blonde fur. Have fun out there, Williamses.
The long awaited We Are All Global Nuclear Running Joke Now Party blog has been launched. Oaktown Girl, in private and confidential email, insinuates that I have nothing better to do than write something for it. She doesn’t realize just how interesting this drying paint here really is.
I owe about a thousand of you emails. I owe about a hundred of you phone calls. I owe one of you a lifetime of avuncular devotion and an email even though you totally abandoned me and moved to Greenland or something. I’m pretty sure I don’t owe any of you money, except possibly Matthew. I think I’m emerging. The gales of desolation have slackened a little. I only spend a few minutes a day, these days, feeling like the whole reason the universe came to be was to give rise to Zeke. Which feeling makes the continued existence of said universe something of an anticlimax. Bathetic, if you will. Or even if you won’t.
The garden has played a role. As has Thistle, who seems to have had a personality transplant since Zeke died. Becky and I will be sitting on the back porch and he’ll actually come up to us, inquisitive and affectionate, asking to be petted, then run crazy stochastic leaping circles around the new-planted herbs and come back to us. He never approached us before, not outside anyway. He’s also claimed the one remaining dog bed, a papasan cushion, and he sits there lordly and comfortable, a raisin on a slice of pita bread.
Speaking of the garden, a free Creek Running North membership (recommended retail: free) goes to whoever can remind me which genus this bromeliad belongs to. I keep wanting to say “Tillandsia” because of the flower, but I don’t think it’s a Tillandsia.
Happy Equinox, Chris. If you’re so inclined, it’s a good time for emerging.
Hey there, Dr. Free Ride kicks the WAAGNFNP off with a serious post about science and religion. They leave the kicking the dead horse stuff to me.
Why don’t you think it’s a Tillandsia?
It could be. But it’s got a smooth epidermis and a typical bromeliad water bucket in the rosette center.
That’d be my guess, Bev.
Sure looks like this:
Chris, you cunning linguist. The phrase “crazy stochastic leaping circles” made my day. A perfect description of bunny play. I love the little leaps that include extra hind-foot kick action.
My Botanist Bride believes it’s a Tillandsia cyanea (“Pink quill”). I suspect she’s right, not only because she so often is, but also because she did her Masters work on a Tillandsia species (though it’s a pretty big genus—something like 400 species).
After looking for an appropriate photo, I declare the Botanist Bride the winner of the Free Creek Running North membership.
I saw your blog mentioned in the paper this morning. Congratulations.
Thanks, Joanna!
And Natalie, what are you doing in the spam bin? Get outta thar!
Should be, “We Are All Running Jokes (not “Joke”) Now Party.” It took exactly one post for Lutheran Surrealism to be mentioned.
I’ll put the free CRN membership on the mantle next to the Pandagon cookie :)
I’d say a lifetime of avuncular devotion and a phone call, at least.
Glad to hear you’re feeling better, tío.
I don’t know!!! Apparently, it didn’t like the link I posted, which was to a picture of a Tillandsia cyanea.
Here I was all excited, since I’m terrible at genus and species stuff. I was a microbiology student for a while… I couldn’t have cared less what parasites’ genus(es?) and species were… I sat in front of the first exam and just laughed cuz I didn’t have a clue!