Walking in Color

Pokeweed is strangely beautiful. I always thought I was the only person to feel that way, until I read the Wikipedia article on the subject, which says, “Some pokeweeds are grown as ornamental plants, mainly for their attractive berries.” The dark and glossy berries do indeed attract the eye, but what got my attention during Monday’s walk, when I took the pictures below, was the transition of colors as the berries develop. The flower cluster is initially white but eventually turns purplish-red. The flowers turn first into green berries, then into purple ones, eventually becoming so dark as to be almost black. The transformation is really quite stunning, once you notice it.

Here the white flowers are turning into green berries and the stems are changing color.
Here the green berries are turning to purple.

The entire plant is poisonous, so much so that Wikipedia recommends never touching any part of it with your bare hands. When I was a child, my parents warned me that it was poisonous, so I never ate the berries. I seem to recall mashing the berries in a bucket, though, so I must have touched them when I picked them from the plant. Oh, well. What did not kill me must have made me stronger.

Having long been aware of pokeweed’s poisonous nature, I was shocked to learn that people in parts of the South eat it, though only at a certain time of year, and only a certain part of the plant, and only after many rounds of preparation to remove the toxins. I found a good article about the practice. This post also mentions it. I’m not going to try it because, as everyone who writes about it mentions, people can get sick, even die, from eating this stuff. IMHO, it is a starvation-level food: good to know about in the event of an apocalypse, and otherwise just another pretty weed to look at as you’re walking. But I’m happy to know that the berries provide food for many of our local animals, including cardinals, mourning doves, raccoons, squirrels, and foxes.

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I Now Pronounce You Correctly

Forte: I refuse to say that something is someone’s forte. The reason for that is the pronunciation of the word “forte.” I know that it rightly rhymes with “port.” But, if I were to say it that way, someone else would say, “You mean for-tay.” Then I’d have to explain the difference between the French version (which sounds like “fort” and means “strength”) and the Italian (which sounds like “for-tay” and means “loud”). I don’t want to have that conversation. Who would?

Mien: It sounds like “mean” and rhymes with the similarly-spelled “lien.” It pains me to think of how many times I’ve said “me-en.”

Exacerbate: Someone once tried to tell me that this word has a hard C in it. It does not. The C is soft. It sounds sort of like egg-zasser-bait.

Flaccid: A toughie. I’ve heard flass-id, flak-sid, and even flak-id. The first two are correct (and listed in order of preference). The third is incorrect.

Quinoa: Like almost everyone else in America, I used to say “quin-oh-uh.” I got an early start on the correct pronunciation (“keen-wah”), because the pronunciation was given on the box of the first package of quinoa that I ever bought. Lucky!

Niche: I used to pronounce this word “neesh,” as seemed appropriate for its Frenchiness. Then other people’s pronunciation convinced me that it was “nitch.” Both pronunciations are included in Merriam-Webster, but “nitch” is preferred. It’s good that they’re both OK, because I can’t make up my mind over which one I prefer, and I tend to switch back and forth depending on my mood.

Quay: Until very recently, this was always “kway” to me, but then I found out most people say “key.” How odd! Merriam-Webster says that “key,” “kay,” and “kway” are all acceptable pronunciations, in that order of preference.

Queue: I used to avoid ever saying this word, because I wasn’t sure how to pronounce it. In my head, it was “cue-ee-oo-ee,” and more realistically speaking, I thought it might be pronounced “kie.” But then I heard someone call a waiting line a “cue” and the light bulb went on in my head. “Cue” it is. But let’s be honest: the spelling of this word is horrendous, and no one should ever be mocked for mangling its pronunciation.

Gyro: I saved this one for last, because it’s the special exception. I do not know how to pronounce this word correctly. It’s impossible to do so. Any pronunciation you use will likely get you schooled, because almost everyone has their own pronunciation, and they all think they’re right. Or, to look at it another way, all the pronunciations are simultaneously right and wrong. Accept it, and eat your gyro, and all will be well (that is, unless the “gyro” you’re referring to is a gyrocompass or gyroscope, neither of which you should attempt to eat, but which can both be safely pronounced “jie-roe”). Or you can say it the way Jimmy Fallon says to.

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So…

I hate when I end a sentence with “so.” But I keep doing it anyway, so…

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Cleaning My Desk

I sometimes tape interesting quotes onto surfaces in my workspace, but eventually they start to yellow and need to be taken down. Today I am removing three. I would like to remember them, though, so here they are.

People want to know why I write such gross stuff. I like to tell them I have the heart of a small boy–and I keep it in a jar on my desk.

Stephen King

Heroes and winners aren’t the same thing.

Michael Kevin Farrell

Being healthy is hard. Being unhealthy is hard. Pick your hard.

Marilu Henner
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Question

If God didn’t intend us to subsist entirely on potato chips, why did He/She/It/They create them to be so tasty?

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Long Week

This week has not been a good week. It has, from the get-go, seemed long and difficult, so much so that by Tuesday I thought that it ought to be Friday, and today feels like a Monday.

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A Promise Is a Promise

In a recent post I said that if any of my bee pictures came out good, I’d share it. A promise is a promise. So here’s my favorite one.

I like bee butts and I cannot lie.
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No Work Today

I knew when I woke up this morning that I wasn’t going to work today. I just don’t feel like it. I stayed up too late last night, so I am tired, and I am angry at the state of the world. Concentration is elusive, and if there’s anything my job requires, it’s concentration.

It does not help that I have no work to do. Or rather, I have no deadline work, and I haven’t had any for a couple of weeks, meaning I’ve been left to my own devices to fill my days. My boss is on vacation, so she can’t send me more work. I always have a backlog of documentation to be written or updated, so I did a ton of that, but I need some answers and approvals from my boss before I can complete what I’ve done so far. I also did some editing for my next project and some work for another department. But I have used up all of my capacity to keep myself busy, and now I’m feeling thoroughly bored and unmotivated. By rights, I ought to have made my employer pay me to be bored today, but there’s so much beautiful sunshine outside, and I want more of it that I can justify taking on a break.

So to Hell with work. Today I’m just going to amuse myself. I will finish this blog post while I eat my breakfast, then I will go book browsing and Nature walking.

P.S. When I run out of vacation days at the end of the year and have to work during the two holiday weeks, remind me of how much I enjoyed this day off.

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Random Summer Thoughts

I am eating cantaloupe. It’s not my favorite fruit by any stretch of the imagination, but it does remind me that one of my favorite things about the summer is the wonderful variety of fruit that’s available. Last night at the grocery store, we bought not only the cantaloupe, but also apples, oranges, blueberries, cherries, and teardrop-shaped grapes. Yum.

The children’s shoes were getting beyond shabby, and because it was just about time for back-to-school shopping anyway, I took the kids to the Sketchers store last week. I used to buy the cheapest available sneakers for them, back when their feet were growing about an inch per day. Now the kids are growing more slowly, which means their shoes last longer, so I feel like I can spend more money on their shoes. Also, Payless went out of business, leaving us with no obvious alternative. Sketchers are expensive, but they’re fairly well-made, and more importantly, they’re wider than most shoes. Marshall and I both have wide feet, so Sketchers is a good brand for us, and the wideness doesn’t bother Livia, whose feet are narrower. I spent a fortune, but now the kids each have one nice pair and one “beater” pair. One of Marshall’s pairs has lights in the soles. Last night when we got home from furniture shopping, Marshall danced around on the darkest part of the driveway so we could admire the colorful lights. It was like the weirdest firefly display we’d ever seen, but wonderful.

Interesting item of note: Livia now wears the same size of shoe (8.5) as I do.

Honeybees like plantain flowers. Plantain flowers are so boring. Ugly, even. But the honeybees that I’ve seen in the yard lately just can’t get enough. They ignore the other, prettier (from my perspective) flowers and fly from plantain to plantain. I enjoy watching them at their work. It’s rare to see any honeybees in the yard anymore. To see more than one at a time is a little miracle.

Hummingbirds are curious birds. When we have the audacity to leave the house, thus getting close to both their feeder and the hosta flowers that they love so much, the hummingbirds fly away too fast for me to see. But if I look up, I often see one hovering above, giving us a look like, “You gonna be long?”

Bumblebees are adorable, and they like hostas, too. They climb all the way into the flowers, then wiggle their way back out. They’re even more fun to watch than honeybees. I often try to get pictures of them, but they move so fast that it’s difficult. I took a bunch of bumblebee photos the other day. If any of them came out good, I’ll share them later.

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Decisions, Decisions

Decisions are hard, and I hate making them. The more options there are, the harder the decisions are. But, all things considered, I’d rather make decisions for myself than let someone else choose for me, and I’d rather have too many choices than have none.

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