Thursday, October 29, 2009
Roasted Pumpkin Seeds
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Happy Halloween!
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" -
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never - nevermore'."
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore:
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Caterpillar Poop
From a Correspondent:
Can you help me identify this stuff on my plants? I have a raised bed and containers full of edibles. The unidentified problem things look like small peppercorns and collect on the leaves of my basil, mint, and arugula plants. It has not (so far) collected on my green beans, tomatoes, peppers, cilantro or thyme. Although they look like peppercorn, they're not hard. I wipe them off with a paper towel and they mush into a dark green slime, and look kind of like rabbit poop. I always notice them in the morning. They collect on the leaves, and especially in the hard to reach nooks of the folded leaf sprouts near the root of the plant. It's often, but not always clustered. So, there might be like two or five on a bigger leaf. They remove very easily, but there are so many that I can not possibly keep up.
Are these larvae of some kind? We have lots of moths, so maybe they're moth larvae? Or, is it the poop of some large bug or caterpillar? It's just now beginning to collect on my treasured wild arugula, so the damage remains to be seen. However, I'm worried, because several months ago, when I started noticing them on my basil and mint, those plants started to deteriorate. The leaves became holey, they stopped growing, or produced much smaller new leaves than previously. These symptoms may not be related...but I suspect they are.
Any thoughts?
Julie
Los Angeles, California
Good morning Julie,
Thanks for providing such a detailed description. Your third guess was a charm: what you're seeing is caterpillar excrement, left behind as the caterpillars eat the leaves of your basil, mint, and arugula, which tend to be great caterpillar favorites. We frequently see caterpillar poop as a hard blackish pellet, but if they're eating lush plants with plenty of moisture, the bug poop will be as you describe.
Caterpillars have extremely simple digestive systems, and what goes in the one end is much the same when it comes out the other end, just ground up a bit; caterpillar-made pesto, as it were. Little-known fact: caterpillar poop from caterpillars eating basil tastes like basil, from those eating mint, like mint, etc. At least that's what I'm told. Check it out for yourself. Go ahead, you first.
There are two effective methods for limiting the damage to your plants. The first is to go out at night, while they're feeding, and use a flashlight to locate them on the leaves and along the stems. Then pick them off and discard them away from the garden; they make great chicken food. This can be somewhat labor intensive, but it also costs nothing.
Because it sounds as if you might have a more extensive problem, your next best method is to spray your plants' leaves with a solution of Bacillus thuringiensis (also called Bt). This is a completely safe and effective biological control that works by giving the caterpillars a terminal stomachache. It works only on caterpillars and has no residual effect on the edibility of the plants. You should be able to find Bt at any nursery or garden center; Dipel and Thuricide are two brands, but there are others as well. As with all pesticides – even organic ones – always read and follow the label exactly.
Because the Bt needs to be ingested to work, don't be surprised if the damage continues for several days.
I hope this helps,
Tyler
The Desert Garden with Tyler Storey
September 19, 2008