Saturday, June 5, 2010

Squash Bugs

I posted pics of squash bug eggs a few days ago, promising a photo of the adults. This is what adult squash bugs do to squash leaves:

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Here's one of the same leaves with an adult squash bug enjoying h/er lunch. They stick a proboscis of some sort into the leaves and suck the juices out, creating the unsightly splotches you see here. (This squash bug's lunch got rudely interrupted.)

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On a zucchini leaf I found this female beginning to lay down a group of eggs. (Alas, she wasn't allowed to finish.)

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On another note, anybody know what's up with this lizard's tail? Did it get cut off and is now growing back? Or is this normal? I've never seen a lizard's tail that looks like this.

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Friday, June 4, 2010

Aarrgghhhhh! Hallelujah!

Aarrgghhhhh:

For the last several months I've been fighting a battle in my house (kitchen and living room areas) with the little bugger on the left: the Indianmeal Moth, also known as the Pantry Moth or "Flour Moth" (they are about 1/4" long). Anyone who keeps grains (especially flours), nuts, or seeds in their kitchen in non-airtight containers has seen this tiny moth. They are attracted to those products as a food source. I've seen them off an on over the years—but they are slow flyers and can usually be dispatched on sight.

What I didn't know until recently is that these moths can chew through plastic storage bags (ZipLock, etc.) to get to a food source. I have a lot of dry bulk goods stored in glass containers with screw-on lids, and those have been safe. But stuff I move through quickly usually stays in plastic bags, even the thin bags in which bulk foods are purchased at the store, like this:

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Bad move.

For the last several months I've seen an inordinate number of these moths flying around but could not find the source or reason. And they were reproducing! I would find the tiny caterpillar/larvae inching up the wall to the juncture of the wall and ceiling where they create cocoons in the ceiling-wall right angle. I have killed scores of the flying moths and have had the vacuum cleaner sitting out for the last week in order to use the hose extension to grab moths, larvae, or cocoons off the ceiling or wall.

Hallelujah:

But this morning I found the source: a plastic, unsealed tub containing a dozen or so bags of sprouting seeds. The bags had holes chewed in them, the seeds were "a mess," there were moths and larvae and cocoon remnants—an entomological crime scene. So all that got thrown away, the sprouting containers thoroughly washed, and hope restored. There are no doubt a few moths remaining in hiding, but hopefully I've broken the cycle having destroyed their breeding ground.

On a hunch that the plastic bags might have been part of the problem, earlier this week I went to Ikea and bought a bunch of quart-size GLASS food storage containers. They don't have screw on lids, which I wanted, but the lids seem pretty tight. So I proceed with a new rule: no dry bulk items get stored in anything edible or permeable by Pantry Moths. If you see any of these little moths around, make sure all your dry, bulk foods are stored in tight containers. (I occasionally see these moths in the bulk section at Earthfare. I wouldn't be surprised if I'd brought some home with me. I'm sure they can get into the bulk containers at the store.)

Never a dull moment.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

How to Celebrate the Resurrection

A few weeks ago, on April 4, 1,300 (mostly) young people in Budapest, Hungary—all members of amazing Faith Church in Budapest—celebrated the resurrection of Christ with this amazing choreographed dance in the middle of the city. Why do we, in the West, think so poorly of these formerly Eastern-bloc nations? I don't recall anything this vibrant and joyful happening in America this past Easter (or maybe it didn't get reported in our media):

Growing Things

This is what happens when you don't check the zucchini plants the day after a heavy rain (that's a 12" ruler!). Zucchini get bland with tough seeds at this size—not much fun to eat. So I hope to make zucchini bread out of these:

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Two more pics for scale:

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I enjoy the presence of green things growing in the house. L. to R. . . .

finished wheatgrass

inch-high wheat grass

germinated mesclun mix (from Johnny's Selected Seeds, contains the following lettuces: tango, red salad bowl, parris island, royal oak, dark lollo rossa, deer tongue, sweet valentine, and firecracker)

new tray of just planted mesclun mix (from Cook's Garden, contains chervil, endive, selvatica arugula, lolla rossa lettuce, royal oak leaf lettuce, red salad bowl lettuce, frisee galia arugula, deer tongue lettuce, rocket arugula, slaad bowl lettuce, black seeded simpson lettuce)

The germinated mesclun needs to be thinned, but I'll probably let it grow as-is to experiment. I made 1/4" deep trenches in the soil with a knife blade, dropped in the seeds, covered the trenches with sand, then misted with a sprayer until they germinated.

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Close-ups:

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What happens when you don't turn the compost often enough. I'm not sure what these plants are yet:

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Monday, May 31, 2010

The Importance of the Table

I have been ruminating on some thoughts in the following quote but haven't had time to create a lengthy comment, so I'm just going to post the quote. The subject is the food movement in the United States, from a recent article by Michael Pollan, "The Food Movement, Rising." I commented on one aspect of the article earlier; this part of his article deals with a different topic: the disappearance of certain values that are inherent in the family/communal meal as a result of said meal losing its place in the culture. I was especially struck by some of his quotes from a new book by Janet Flammang, The Taste for Civilization: Food, Politics, and Civil Society (I have just begun to read Flammang's book; more on it soon). I have put in bold/green a few of Pollan's and Flammang's thoughts that caught my attention: (note: Pollan's reference to "bowling alone" refers to the 2001 best-seller by Robert Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community)

But the movement’s interest in such seemingly mundane matters as taste and the other textures of everyday life is also one of its great strengths. Part of the movement’s critique of industrial food is that, with the rise of fast food and the collapse of everyday cooking, it has damaged family life and community by undermining the institution of the shared meal. Sad as it may be to bowl alone, eating alone can be sadder still, not least because it is eroding the civility on which our political culture depends.

That is the argument made by Janet Flammang, a political scientist, in a provocative new book called The Taste for Civilization: Food, Politics, and Civil Society. “Significant social and political costs have resulted from fast food and convenience foods,” she writes, “grazing and snacking instead of sitting down for leisurely meals, watching television during mealtimes instead of conversing”—40 percent of Americans watch television during meals—”viewing food as fuel rather than sustenance, discarding family recipes and foodways, and denying that eating has social and political dimensions.” The cultural contradictions of capitalism—its tendency to undermine the stabilizing social forms it depends on—are on vivid display at the modern American dinner table.

In a challenge to second-wave feminists who urged women to get out of the kitchen, Flammang suggests that by denigrating “foodwork”—everything involved in putting meals on the family table—we have unthinkingly wrecked one of the nurseries of democracy: the family meal. It is at “the temporary democracy of the table” that children learn the art of conversation and acquire the habits of civility—sharing, listening, taking turns, navigating differences, arguing without offending—and it is these habits that are lost when we eat alone and on the run. “Civility is not needed when one is by oneself.”

These arguments resonated during the Senate debate over health care reform, when The New York Times reported that the private Senate dining room, where senators of both parties used to break bread together, stood empty. Flammang attributes some of the loss of civility in Washington to the aftermatch of the 1994 Republican Revolution, when Newt Gingrich, the new Speaker of the House, urged his freshman legislators not to move their families to Washington. Members now returned to their districts every weekend, sacrificing opportunities for socializing across party lines and, in the process, the “reservoirs of good will replenished at dinner parties.” It is much harder to vilify someone with whom you have shared a meal.

Flammang makes a convincing case for the centrality of food work and shared meals, much along the lines laid down by Carlo Petrini and Alice Waters, but with more historical perspective and theoretical rigor. A scholar of the women’s movement, she suggests that “American women are having second thoughts” about having left the kitchen. However, the answer is not for them simply to return to it, at least not alone, but rather “for everyone—men, women, and children—to go back to the kitchen, as in preindustrial days, and for the workplace to lessen its time demands on people.” Flammang points out that the historical priority of the American labor movement has been to fight for money, while the European labor movement has fought for time, which she suggests may have been the wiser choice.

At the very least this is a debate worth having, and it begins by taking food issues much more seriously than we have taken them. Flammang suggests that the invisibility of these issues until recently owes to the identification of food work with women and the (related) fact that eating, by its very nature, falls on the wrong side of the mind–body dualism. “Food is apprehended through the senses of touch, smell and taste,” she points out, which rank lower on the hierarchy of senses than sight and hearing, which are typically thought to give rise to knowledge. In most of philosophy, religion, and literature, food is associated with body, animal, female, and appetite—things civilized men have sought to overcome with reason and knowledge."

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Before Chemical Fertilizers

Several years ago I came across this picture in a "coffee table" book (from my parents' house) on the history of America. The picture covered a full spread in the book—two full pages. I was able to get the whole thing on my scanner to make a copy.

The picture had no accompanying text other than something like a "Farm Family." But here's what amazed me about the picture: Chemical fertilizers weren't introduced into American agriculture on a widespread basis until after World War II. Based on the dress and appearance of this family, I'm guessing this picture was taken before that era. Also, American topsoil was still relatively prevalent then, not having been destroyed by commercial farming and poor management practices in the post-War agriculture boom. That means this farmer probably plowed with a horse(s), used manure as fertilizer, and practiced traditional (= organic) farming techniques. I could be wrong—these are just assumptions based on the picture.

And look at the bounty! These vegetables are HUGE—especially the root crops (carrots, turnips, etc.). A huge head of cabbage on the left front corner of the table, huge eggplants (?) on the right front corner. I would imagine these vegetables are multiple times higher in nutrients than today's vegetables because of the soil they were grown in.

I may be romanticizing, but I question the amount of progress we've made in farming if a hardscrabble couple like this could produce these kinds of results. (Forgive me if this is a duplicate post. I searched my blog but couldn't find that I'd posted it previously.)

Giant Veggies

Yesteryear Garden

Came across these photos of my previous garden consisting of 8-9 large raised beds in the backyard. (Can't remember if I've posted this before.) This shows about half the beds. I deconstructed it all when I thought I was going to sell my house. I'm still here, sans garden. It was a nice place to hang out in the early mornings:

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