
I pulled the whole carrot crop, and now have a big bag of orange curlies. Bring on the carrot recipes!

I pulled the whole carrot crop, and now have a big bag of orange curlies. Bring on the carrot recipes!
Big thanks to Chris Tosdevin for permission to sketch from his photos.

Suzanne and I wandered around the pond at Rocky Oaks, marvelling over flowers, spiders, toads, birds of prey, lizards and insects. Attracted to these shelf fungi on a burned-out oak stump, I perched on a rock in the middle of a patch of nettles to sketch them.

I never thought of potatoes as having fruit, but there’s no reason why they shouldn’t. After all, the closely related tomatoes bear fruit. I’ll be interested to see how big these little nuggets get before the leaves die back, and I can harvest the rooty goodness.
Ah, I just did a little reading on the subject. The fruit are toxic (as are all parts of the plant except the tubers). Potato fruits are produced when the plants experience cool temperatures and sufficient water. Their seeds can be planted, though they will not produce clones of their parents, as tubers will. I probably won’t bother saving and replanting the seeds as I have limited space for potato experiments in my garden …. but good to know!
To clarify, ‘seed potatoes’ and ‘potato seeds’ are two different things. The former are sprouting tubers, and will grow as clones of the original plant. The latter are, well, actual seeds.

One of my favourite sit spots is under the silky oak tree, on the edge of the driveway. There’s a big Tagetes lemmonii bush (a fan favourite around here) right next to it. The species is named for John Gill Lemmon, husband of American botanist, artist and intellectual Sara Plummer Lemmon (1836 – 1923).
Sara was responsible for the California poppy being designated as our state flower. She established Santa Barbara’s first lending library, where she also sold art and music supplies and hosted cultural gatherings. She sounds like a really interesting woman — I’d like to know more about her.

One of the two eggs hatched several days ago, but I can’t tell if the baby is actually alive. I haven’t heard it cheep, and whenever I peek it appears to be sleeping in this same position. The mama is either away from the nest, or sitting on it; I haven’t observed her bringing food to the hatchling. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a successful outcome here, but I’m not feeling very optimistic.
I first journaled this passionfruit last December. Today I picked and ate it.

I learned a new word, and botanical term. Stipule. If something has stipules, it is stipulate (adjective).
The verb stipulate, meaning to make an agreement or covenant to do or forbear anything; to contract; to settle terms; to bargain, comes from the Latin stipulus meaning firm, which also has roots in stipes, a trunk.
So ultimately both uses of stipulate come from the same trunk, but have very different meanings. I love etymology.

The theme for this week’s Draw with Me was lobsters, both “true” and “spiny”.
Although they superficially resemble each other in terms of overall shape and having a hard carapace and exoskeleton, the two groups are not closely related. Spiny lobsters (Palinuridae family) can be easily distinguished from true lobsters by their very long, thick, spiny antennae and by the lack of claws. True lobsters (Nephropidae family) have much thinner antennae, and claws on the first three pairs of legs, with the first being particularly enlarged.
Spiny lobsters are found in almost all warm seas, including the Caribbean and the Mediterranean Sea, but are particularly common in Australasia (where they are usually referred to as crayfish or sea crayfish) and in South Africa.
On the other hand, the American lobster (Homarus americanus)—also known as Atlantic lobster, Canadian lobster, northern lobster or Maine lobster—thrives in cold, shallow waters. I wonder if the claw growth is an adaptation more useful in colder oceans. If so, why?