Memorable things that happened to me this week.
A break from the tension of our terrifying election
For some reason and no reason, last week was kind of a good week for me. So instead of taking another look at the insanity swirling around the election, which is being amply reflected upon by others, I thought I would take you on a guided tour of the less terrifying more entertaining insanity I encountered in my world .
1. When is a dog turd not a dog turd?
When it’s one of the many Pistolithus Areanariuses growing in my front yard.
As people all over the country were claiming they could see the Northern Lights, I knew I was not going to see them. I am speaking as someone who has spent my entire life failing to see the Leonid Meteor shower which always takes place right on August 13, my birthday. So, NO… I did not see any damn Northern Lights. However as spectacles go, I did see a few versions of something astonishing growing in my very yard
Look more closely. Here’s another one. Also not dog poop.
YOU: So someone else’s poop? Coyote? Bobcat? Pet-eating Immigrant?
ME: Not poop at all, my naive friend. It is a Pistolithus Areanarius, often referred to, unsurprisingly, as a Dog Turd Mushroom. It is a FRUITING BODY of the phylum Ascomycota. In other words, a fungi. A MUSHROOM!! And so it is my karma that now, even after I carefully clean up after my dogs, it still LOOKS like my yard is full of poop because of these mushrooms.
YOU: You’re a vegan? Did you saute them with some dry sherry and have them for dinner?
ME: No.You will be shocked to learn that they are not considered edible. Which, I think, proves beyond a shadow of doubt, that mushrooms do not believe in false advertising. I doubt anyone who was out foraging would consider eating them. With the possible exception of both of my dogs.
2. The Curious Meaning of ‘Thank You’.
A disheveled and wild eyed woman in her sixties came up to me in a parking lot outside the grocery store. She stared at me intently. I began calculating the amount of loose cash I had in my wallet, assuming that she would ask for money. But instead she said “Do you know what pellagra is?”
She looked pretty disoriented so I assumed there wasn’t going to be a prize if I got the right answer. “A disease caused by a vitamin deficiency?” I offered.
“No,” she said, “It causes people to disappear and then the birds get bigger.”
“Oh. Okay. “ I said, nodding and quickly putting my groceries into the trunk of my car, “I think maybe my uncle had that. Thank you.” And then I got into my car as fast as I could, locked the door and left.
But as I was driving home, the part of this exchange that most lingered in my mind was how it ended. I THANKED HER. Much has been written about how the human female has it hammered into her, from childhood on, to be obsequious, even in the strangest of circumstances. I definitely went the distance proving this to be true.
On the bright side, as nuts as this all was, I had no reason at all to believe that this had anything at all to do with Donald Trump or his campaign. This moment of apolitical craziness came as both a relief and a triumph.
3. The Market Equivalent of a Museum
I finally went into a Vietnamese grocery store I had been hearing about for some time. And it turned out it was one of those places that was so full of mysterious and amazingly labeled items that I couldn’t leave without buying a lot of stuff that will require googling before I eat them. For example, I had never seen one of these before.
Then there was this: my nominee for best package slogan of 2024.
They also were selling this, which may be the only thing I do not recall seeing in the freezer section at Trader Joe’s. And I have looked carefully through their freezer section.
5. LIFE ON MARS: Fourth quarter Butterfly Report
I know. I know. I have already written about my caterpillar/chrysalis/butterflies.
But a week ago, the last of my 18 Martian caterpillars heard the compelling voice of their invisible cult leader calling, calling, calling to them. “It’s Time, my children. It’s Time.” And every single one of them knew just what to do. So they took the first step in their pilgrimmage, sitting on top of stalks of the milkweed they had already denuded. And as they sat there, they kept listening to the voice of their cult leader. “Go now, my children. It is time. Crawl to the top of the cage.”
Next thing you know, they are on the move in groups of three and four, in various stages of their hypnotic trance. (below) The one on the left has already gotten into the J formation, which precedes the eventual transformation of a perfectly nice yellow and black striped caterpillar into a small green pepper (on the right.)
Soon all 18 caterpillars have disappeared forever. In their place, 18 small green peppers….just in case you have forgotten that no life we are ever destined to encounter on another planet could possibly be any weirder than the life currently here on earth. Two days later, the whole ceiling of the cage is dotted by 18 randomly located small green peppers …looking for all intents and purposes like someone’s very sad attempt at decorating for the office Christmas party
‘What became of their fetching yellow and black striped caterpillar onesies?”, perhaps you are wondering. Well, after they get into the J position, they wriggle out of them and throw them to the ground. Here is what that handsome bespoke caterpillar suit looks like, unworn, and un-ironed.
Then Wednesday night, I noticed that suddenly 6 of the 18 green peppers had turned dark. That is the butterfly equivalent of “her water broke
I tried to sit there to watch at least one of the butterfly births but it requires a serious amount of patience. I got up to make a cup of coffee and I came back to this.
But because I want you to see what went on while I was out caffeinating, here’s a video, shot by my friend and fellow butterfly foster parent Brooke Fischer, who is clearly a more patient, more devoted observer of butterflies than I am. Or just less antsy.
As of this writing, I have released 7 of the 18 members of the class of 24. Four more are about to be born today. That leaves 7 still hanging on the ceiling, pretending to be green while they finish up a few last minute details. Here are the graduates so far:
FUN FACT: The Fall Class has a much bigger set of responsibilities than the Spring Graduates did. The Spring class of Monarchs only live about 6 weeks. They lay some eggs and then they are done. However the Fall class,(who are the children of the Spring class) all migrate to either Mexico or central California where they are part of a big, very well attended Monarch convention. I don’t know what kind of strings the convention promoters pull to make sure there is good attendance. But the Fall Graduates live NINE MONTHS!
6. Bench farming.
I ate lunch at a place that was so organic, they are growing their own benches.
When you order your picnic lunch at this place, to insure maximum verisimilitude, you are entitled to a complimentary side order of these.
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7.Brush with Greatness
Chris Martin walked by when I was out walking my dog Rosie. I do not know him, but I think he may have been headed for the beach. He was not wearing shoes.
All that in ONE week. Am I the luckiest girl ever, or what?
Thanks for making me laugh.
Loved it, Merrill! the whole glorious thing!