Punch buggy periwinkle!

I don't know what it is about this area, but there are a ton of VW Bugs! At one point there were two in our neighborhood- one of which was that awesome periwinkle color (yes Peleke, periwinkle is so a color! Periwinkle, periwinkle, periwinkle!). I go back and forth on my favorite color for the modern Bugs- periwinkle or that pretty melon orangey color. For the classic ones, though, it's green all the way.

My point, though, is that I'm pretty sure I'm not the only person who sees a Bug and instinctively balls up my fist and looks around for a sucker's arm to punch, right? In a span of less than five miles, I saw five of them! If I were a kid, I'd have been jumping up and down in my seat (provided I spotted them first). I found myself wishing Peleke was in the car with me so I could get his arm.

We've actually gotten out of and into the car debating whether or not we can punch over the same Bug that was there when we went into a building. I wonder what people think when they hear us talking about when it's fair to punch each other. Or worse yet, if we're trying to even out the punches right there in the parking lot...

Well of course the picture of the Fremont Troll with his captured Bug had to be posted! Also, hey, here's a rule book (sort of)!

On a somewhat related note, I learned about the whole passing over a cattle grate thing out in Arizona during college ("down-down-up-up-down-up-down" followed by a free for all punching. Nobody really bothered to determine who finished first.). Does anybody else still do this this?

Maaaaaan!

I'm getting a little concerned that two searches of my car have thus far proven futile. I lost a stick of gum. Not just any gum, mind you, but gum that I was trying to throw out the passenger side window. I should know better by now. I mean, at best my average is 50/50 for actually getting chewed gum out the window. Up until now it's only splatted onto the window. Given the frequency that I chew gum (low), I never worry too much and bother to practice or whatever.

(I'm actually not a disgusting slob. My car windows and interior are not all nasty up with old gum. Doggy nose prints, yes, nasty gum, no. Things like this just happen sometimes)

Which leads me to this situation. It's cold enough now that it's not a problem, but once the summer hits- Man, I can't even let myself think about it. Where could it possibly have gone??

Sometimes I marvel that I'm even able to stand and walk upright... then again, sometimes I can't even do that.

Addendum: I found it.

Biology lesson for the week: My favorite flower (that's actually a weed)

Fireweed gets its name because of how earnestly it colonizes land after a forest fire. It's also being used to reestablish vegetation on sites that have been disturbed by oil spills! Basically all it needs to grow and flower is lots of space and lots of light. When other plants begin to grow in the burned land, fireweed can't compete and becomes much less abundant. But it's a scrappy plant- seeds can remain in the soil for years... and germinate after another fire wipes out the plants again! When this happens, dense "stands" of plant grow, covering the field with the tall, bright pink plants (though it can also be white). It can grow up to eight feet tall!

Fireweed is a perennial plant, meaning that it lives for more than two years, native to the temperate Northern Hemisphere. As a perennial in a temperate climate, it grows during the growing season and is dormant and loses its foliage during the winter ("seasonality" can mean warm and cold periods or wet and dry periods). This qualifies fireweed as a deciduous perennial. So, fireweed blooms during growing season (last frost to first frost) and that varies on your location. According to The Old Farmer's Almanac, Seattle's growing season is 232 days long. Therefore, for the immediate Seattle area, fireweed's growing season is March 24th to November 11th.

Fireweed is the floral emblem of the Yukon.

The link to this phograph on the web is here.

The link to this photograph on the web is here.

Collide

This evening I had one of those rare moments where everything is timed just right to create an experience that's simple and beautiful.

Today was absolutely gorgeous with temps in the fifties and a clear blue sky. I had just tossed off a load of wood at the recycling center on base and the western sky was a pretty pink and yellow. I was waiting near the flight line to turn onto one of the two roads leading off the base and had just seen a Chinook, some sort of smaller helicopter, and a few other various aircraft common to our area. It was nearing five so traffic was at peak, everybody anxious to funnel through two lanes.

Just as a break in traffic opened up and I shifted into first, I heard the music over The Paperboys. Three times daily (morning, end of the work day, and evening), music is piped loudly through speakers mounted on high posts. The five o'clock song is always The Star Spangled Banner. The entire base comes to a standstill for the duration- vehicles pull over and people stand still either saluting or with hands over their hearts*.

I sat there with my window down enjoying the breeze and national anthem as the world was held in suspended animation. Almost directly overhead, my husband's plane flew low on its approach to landing, silhouetted by the pretty evening sky.

A short minute or two later, cars and trucks merged back onto the road to continue their slow crawl to the gates. I joined them and headed home too.

*I had the unfortunate experience last winter when it was really cold and windy out and my bladder was about to burst, but I had to stand shivering and crossing my legs until it was over and I could finish the run to the commissary. Not fun.

Mud and kisses

So as this picture indicates, we've had rain lately. I mean, the dogs are running through a deep puddle in an area that's usually dry as a bone. I was a little surprised to realize upon moving from Seattle to the beach that I miss the rain. I really enjoyed the mild, rainy Pacific Northwest. I like bright, sunny days as much as the next person, but I guess I don't need them as much as I once thought.

So anyway, yeah, all this rain lately has made me pretty happy. There is one problem, though. Actually, make that two, the first being muddy dogs and the second being my old achy bones. Seriously, it's kind of embarrassing. First my wrist and forearm where I broke it starts aching. Then an hour later my bad(er) leg hits me like a mac truck. I'm down for the count from the pain and drugs for at least one day (but usually more like three).

As the dogs were out swimming in the puddle this morning, I noticed the telltale ache. No surprise, I guess, given another weather system coming through. An older gentleman who broke his hip did his usual circuit of the dog park in the car while his little dog bounded alongside. It started me thinking about our church here.

Now, let me first say that I've really come around to our church and enjoy it a lot. The problem I've encountered is that sometimes it's kind of a hard "sell" to other people. The demographics have changed even since we've been here, but the congregation is still largely a middle aged and older crowd. A large group is at a completely different stage in life that is more difficult for the fewer number of 20 and 30 somethings to find common ground. But I love them to pieces, and it's a nice change to be in a church that has more older folks. However, it does change the church experience. Our fellowship interactions are kind of like ones that you have with your own grandparents.

I particularly like the back row of older gentlemen with their sound amplifying headsets. The things look like stethoscopes with something the size of a walkman at the end instead of a bell. It cracks me up. Other aiding devices are found here and there.

I have it on good authority that not too long before Peleke and I came along, sometimes it was a little difficult to hear the pastor speak over the many rhythmically puffing portable oxygen machines scattered throughout the sanctuary. That thought still makes me giggle.

I love that we get lots of hugs, kisses, and even sometimes what I think is pride in us. But, oh man, poor Peleke got a big surprise yesterday! One of the oldest ladies, affectionately known as Granny, loves to go around and give big smooches and hugs. I usually walk away with bright lipstick marks on my cheek that Peleke laughingly rubs off for me. She got ahold of him this Sunday, though, and landed a big fat kiss on his lips. It was really sweet and funny, but I don't think either of us was expecting it. As you may have guessed, he came away with red lipstick left on his lips. I couldn't stop giggling during the service for about half an hour.

Biology lesson for the week: Pink snow

Up in Whistler with a friend a few years ago, we didn't know what the pink snow was all about. All I knew was that I'd been warned not to eat yellow or pink snow because I think it causes diarrhea (which the literature seems to support). Researching it was kind of interesting!

Pink snow, sometimes called "watermelon snow," happens during the early spring and summer months where there is still snowpack. It's a phenomenon dating way back in recorded history. In fact, Aristotle mentioned it in some of his writings! I'm not sure why it took so long to identify the cause of it, but at the end of the nineteenth century, the mystery was solved- pink snow comes from microscopic algae. More than sixty different species of snow algae have been identified in the western US mountain ranges, but Chlamydomonas nivalis is responsible for the pink snow. (ironically, it's a member of the green algae Division). Because it's an algae, it has chlorophyll, but C. nivalis also has a carotenoid pigment that gives it the red color. The carotenoid pigment is similar to the ones in tomatoes, red peppers, colorful flowers, seafood exoskeletons, corals, egg yolks, fish/amphibian skin, and fall leaves. They can also be orange, yellow, or yellow-green.

C. nivalis (nivalis means "snow" in Latin) is thought to go dormant when covered by deep layers of snow and then germinate when meltwater brings down nutrients, but scientists aren't exactly sure how the germinated cells then release smaller green cells that flagellate to the surface of the snow to turn pink. Sometimes you see depressions in the snowbanks that are especially red; these are called "sun cups." The red pigmentation absorbs heat, causing the snow to melt faster and cause the depression.

Picture credit here.

Picture credit here.

Word to the wise inquiring minds: this search brought up some questionable sites!

Special thanks:

Wayne's Word