Wildlife Alert

Eagle/not regal

captaink2 — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 20:37:07 +0000

So there I was, 80 feet up, in a tree that must have died during the Cuban Missile Crisis, when THE RAIN struck. Seriously. Never lend your big K2 golf umbrella to a bunch of turkey vultures, no matter what they promise to bring you from The Roadkill Cafe.

Wait'll I tweet my friends at the Weather Channel...

A Raise? I’ll give you arrays…

captaink2 — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 20:20:14 +0000

The world-famous, easy-to-spot, Very Large Array: …and the lesser-known Very VERY Small Array

“Turn it up–I’ve got Tierra del Fuego on the line…!”

The Eagle has landed

captaink2 — Sat, 22 Jan 2011 19:02:42 +0000

Mmmm, is that Juicy Fruit?!

Oh, sure, you’ve seen pictures of salmon-infested waters being liberated by squadrons of these white-crowned raptors, but have you seen what they eat when they’re on vacay (in this case, in the cell-phone waiting lot at Orlando Int’l, just a feather’s breadth from the Mouse Kingdom)? In person? Let me tell you, when one of these babies floats in like a C-5A on final, just inches above your car, and lands like right over there, it’s time to grab the old iPhone and start shooting before it’s all over.

Car's still here...Now, if I can just find the keys...

Monsters Crawl

captaink2 — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 18:30:54 +0000

It’s hard to remember what we noticed first. The ground, rumbling and shaking like they’d relocated the old Flagler RR track, and the 5:03 was On
Time but experiencing technical difficulties right in our own back yard? Or was it the subtler (but unmistakable) swishing of St. Augustine grass as it was ripped from the sandy earth by reptilian beaks powered by prehistoric muscle and instinct? None of that mattered as we raced outside to witness a rare, and highly entertaining annual event in these parts: The Parade of the Gopher Tortoises. So maybe it WAS only 2 this time. Sure sounded like more to our Wildlife-Alerted ears.

12-incher, cleared for take-off on CAT 2!

These critters, whose burrows (reaching 10-20 feet long, and wide enough for them, of course…) provide living quarters for dozens of different species of animals (when the Tortoises have moved on to their next burrows, which they do frequently), have earned protected status in scores of states, and are an animal of special interest here in FL.

They’ve certainly earned our special interest, and we were glad that we didn’t have to help these two cross the highway (a protective gesture that you’ll see often enough when you visit during Tortoise Travel Season. They were gone in a flash, about the time it takes to read The Economist. But after all, they ARE Tortoises.

An 18-inch tortoise? Here in MY yard?! Where?

Oh. THAT one. Thought it was a Vee-Dub...

Napalm

captaink2 — Fri, 01 Oct 2010 20:25:20 +0000

Now that hot sauces in the marketplace cost upwards of $3-5 ( for an itsy-bitsy, virtually non-dispensing microbottle with a pore-sized opening), it seemed like a good idea at the time. Johnna had presented me with a baggie just bursting with home-grown hot peppers, a gift from one of her accomplices at the salon where she works now, and for a brief, sizzling moment we both wondered “What SHALL we do with these pretty things, EAT them? Maybe with some nice dip?” Consensus said, “Naaah…”

The OLD Tom (actually the YOUNGER Tom) probably would have, although there WAS that time he munched a fresh habanero right there in the Farmers’ Market (an ill-advised alpha display), seconds before dropping to his knees and bashing his head against a milking stool while begging for anything cold and wet. He still remembers that one. But the NEW Tom (don’t call him OLD, not yet…) had a plan, and just as important, most of its ingredients, on hand.

[At this point I offer my apologies to Lexi, whose excellent agriculture/food prep blog "The CSA Files" is a bright and weekly ray of sunshine in our lives. THIS is strictly a one-off account of something I did yesterday, not a test-case for inserting such cooking adventures into my slim and disjointed narratives. But these peppers ALMOST qualify as wildlife, so read on.]

First, ASSEMBLE your HAZ-MAT suit: WASH any motor oil off the thick rubber gloves in the garage, Windex the impact-resistant safety goggles, break out the long-sleeved T-neck, jeans, socks and sneaks. SECURE the souvenir Three-Mile-Island core-tester’s APRON. Only then, SEPARATE stems and seeds from 13 Habaneros (at 200,000+ Scoville Units), 7 Cayennes (at 30-50k each), and 5 Jalapenos (at 2.5-8k apiece, the mild-mannered reporters of the group). DICE peppers and set aside.

SAUTE a big handful or so of chopped carrots and onions along with 4 cloves (chopped) garlic, in the oil of your choice. ADD a half-cup water and SIMMER until tender. COMBINE with peppers in blender. HAVE AT IT (I hit “puree”) until you’re satisfied. Remain in protective clothing at all times, and DO NOT REMOVE YOUR GOGGLES EVEN IF YOUR EYES SWEAT. Keep your hands where you can see them only with difficulty, far away from your face.

RETURN to pan, ADDING juice of 3 limes (freshly squoze) and maybe some white vinegar. SIMMER what by now is a certifiably toxic orange soup for 5 or 10, or until the paint on your kitchen walls begins to blister. RESIST ANY TEMPTATION TO SNIFF EMANATIONS FROM THE PAN. When COOLer (“cool”, of course, being a relative sort of thing), sweeten to taste with whatever you like (honey, agave syrup) if it seems too sour, as mine was (did I really need the vinegar?…). POUR into one of those pickle-jars you promised to recycle (the one you actually WASHED). NOTE: When selecting your jar be sure it’s large enough to hold ALL the vaporous contents of your cook pan. Once you’ve started pouring, it’s too late, and you’ll waste time cleaning up THAT mess…

Finally, SAMPLE your work with a blue corn chip or other suitable cracker (if using bread, remember it acts like a sponge and may just shut down your breathing after an otherwise innocent dip in the sample bowl), after confirming EMT availability in your neighborhood. ONCE THE TIGHTLY-CAPPED JAR IS SAFELY IN YOUR REFRIGERATOR YOU MAY CONSIDER REMOVING PROTECTIVE GEAR. Showering at this time is a great idea even your dog will appreciate.

So Hot I'm Sweating Just Thinking About It!

Shock Wave

captaink2 — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 15:26:33 +0000

I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. Haven’t hit the keys in a while, and I can only hope that you’ve found some really cool adventure book club to sustain you in the interim (there ARE still book clubs, I believe…?). You know how hot it’s been–

...and Discovery jumped over the Moon

April 5, 2010. Another night launch, this time under a clear sky and the soft light of a quarter-moon. This was really a good one, but we still almost forgot when Discovery would make its return trip 2 weeks later (something especially embarrassing since THAT flight path would turn out to be in broad daylight, and nearly over the roof of our house). We had been warned…

April 20, 2010. We are sort of idling between sleep and totally get-some-food-into-the-dog awake, when blaBLAM! blaBLAM! we’re practically thrown off the bed by twin sonic booms, only a few air molecules apart. Before Josey even had time to get up her usual head of barking steam, I had flip-flopped my way out the front door to see if we were under attack, or if the Angels (the Blue ones) were beginning an unscheduled practice overhead.

Way up in the morning sky, a streaking southbound contrail announced the return to Earth of the Space Shuttle Discovery. Lucky for us (and the astronauts, for that matter) by the time it reached our neighborhood it had shed most of its orbital speed (Mach 26, or what?!) but was clearly still beyond recognition by our local police radar. Mach whatever it was, it was still going really fast, and the runway at the Cape is only about 90 miles south of here. Then again, re-entry IS an unpowered flight so it’s really a good thing all that energy is up there hurtling along: Flaps and gear down won’t happen until they’re almost at the KSC (the Space Center, not the fried chicken place across the street) landing site, certainly not over our roof.

Here’s what it looked like just before touchdown:

Final Flight?

Pleather

captaink2 — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 15:39:45 +0000

Sometimes, when Mother Nature throws some distinctly unseasonal weather your way, the only satisfying response is likely to be the one lurking deep in the crumpled unexplored folds of your Options Bag. That was certainly the case in this neighborhood for the last several icy weeks, while we all watched in frosty discomfort as night-time temps plunged routinely into the mid-20s, and even on the sunniest days barely crept beyond the 40s. The pool stabilized somewhere around 42 F, cold enough to throw off the salt-to-chlorine generation system while simultaneously locking up the urethane kissy valve in the auto-vac mechanism. We weren’t about to go in the water, but really—!

The Pleather garden, however (planted as an experiment early last fall to see if the seeds would take), absolutely loved the chill, producing harvestable quantities of rich, thick, supple brown Pleather in only a few weeks.

Rich Corinthian...

We’ll get a harvester and a couple of trucks by this weekend to get our surprise winter crop to market in time for buyers looking to expand their raw material sourcing in anticipation of (expectedly robust) spring furniture sales.

Enough for a love-seat!

Consider: No polychlorinated biphenyls were added to our water table due to the wholly natural production of this amazingly fast-growing cold-weather plant, and no carcinogenic dyes will be needed to

Contrasting trim pieces

achieve the rich luster so apparent in the photos here. Maybe I’ll be able to make a nice coat if there are enough scraps left when we’ve finished baling.

Natural stand of Pleather

Recliner parts

Climate Change

captaink2 — Sat, 09 Jan 2010 21:48:27 +0000

So last year, when most of the (fleshier) plants around here froze to mush during a few cold February nights, we took to heart this reassurance from our neighbors: This sort of thing was REALLY unusual, even here in the Vermont of Florida, and we should be confident that we’d rarely have to worry about the annual ruination of most of our hard-earned garden successes. Ever the optimists, we dutifully bought new greenery in the spring, and nursed as many of the frostbitten veterans as we could back to life over the spring, summer, and fall. Well—

Today it snowed. And this after 10 nights of sub-freezing temps, our share of the cold snap battering most of the US for so many days. Happy New Year. Extreme weather still seem like fiction to you? Another vodka-inspired bit of commie pinko whining? We’ll see…

In the meantime, here’s what some of our plantation looked like this morning:

Quilted rubber tree and friends

Robellini at Fahrenheit 27

Surprised philodendrum

Snowy sebago

Ski Grapes? (The aforementioned "AT&T Plant")

Florida powder on sea grape

Avalanche warning

And now for something…

captaink2 — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 21:20:54 +0000

Since it’s The Pythons’ 40th Gala Anniversary this year, it seems only fair to show some support for the veritable fountainhead of our collective comedic past lives. And what more apropos than a special, commemorative bit of flora (not exactly a shrubbery, for those of you expecting an easy reference), tenderly raised in memory of the sternest (and most often military-garbed) of them, Graham Chapman. Before there was ever Biggus Dickus, there just had to have been…..

Smallus Phallus...(you were expecting one of the middle Caesars?)

His Biscuits

captaink2 — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 19:48:38 +0000

His Biscuit

His Biscuits

Bake yourself a bunch today!

Her Biscuits