Day in the Life of an Idiot

 Since yesterday was Obon at Como, I thought this morning might be a good time to go collect garbage on my parcel. It was not as bad as I expected in the main areas, but it was dry enough for me to go into the rain garden for the first time and OH MY. I picked up a literal pound and a half of garbage. 

I spent the rest of the time getting to know my area a bit better and discovered some lovely mushroom friends:


Image: Calvatia gigantea, commonly known as the giant puffball. This one was the size and shape of a baseball.

I actually initially thought this giant puffball mushroom WAS a lost baseball as my section of the park abuts a baseball field. I know that puffballs are edible, but I didn't pick this. There's not a lot of life in my little area, so thought I'd leave it for some other adventurous urban forager to discover.  There was a whole colony of much smaller ones in this same area. 

 
Image: A polypore, or shelf mushroom growing on a maple.

A handsome shelf (or bracket) mushroom, probably parasitic, as it seems to be causing the maple to "bleed" a little sap, but it's still a wonderfully strange little plant animal.  Folx that know your fungi better than I do, perhaps you know which KIND of polypore this is?  It doesn't have the right kind of markings to be a "turkey tail," so I'm just not sure.

Growing under the pines was a capped mushroom of some sort, which didn't look quite as friendly as the others to me.  Some mushrooms just look like they might kill you? But, I'm not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, so perhaps I left something quite delicious in the fields.


Image: Scarier looking mushroom friend.

Anyway, it was a good morning to do my volunteer work, since, while the air quality sucked, the weather was okay. It was a cool 70 F/ 21 C this morning. It's supposed to get up to 100 F / 37 C by Wednesday. 

So, yesterday, my family and I went to Obon at Como. Mostly, I go for the food? The cultural part of the cultural festival is much the same every year. There's always a kumi-daiko performance, kyūdō archers, and that one group of crazy "martial artists" who use live katana blades to dramatically slice up wet bamboo rolls. I invariably run into the ONE Japanese guy I know (Shimano-sensei), my old Japanese language instructor, because he's always working the calligraphy booth.  Mason and I are huge fans of kakigōri and takoyaki and this is one of the few places you can get shaved ice (many of the Japanese restaurants in town make the fried octopus balls.)  It was kind of warm yesterday (though not scorching,) so we didn't stay very long? Plus, the crowds were intense and Shawn is immune compromised, so we didn't want to spend too much time rubbing elbows with the crowds (plus, it was hot for her in her mask.) 

As we were leaving the park, Shawn remarked that she only saw a few other people in masks and I said, "I guess we can play the 'spot the immune compromised people! (and possibly their families)' game now." Especially since, even someone like me who might otherwise mask at an indoor event is going without, outside, these days.

They did have VERY CHEAP Japanese language manga magazines for sale, but there was no furigana so there's ZERO hope of me being able to read any of the stories in these yet.


Office You Magazine for sale.

The feature manga title is Do Da Dancin'! which I have found scanlated on a pirate site, if anyone is interested just click on the link. (Or better yet feed the title into your favorite manga reader, since there are sometimes fewer ads and spyware if you go in that way, I've discovered.) At any rate, I'm not a huge shojo reader, so it's fine to have left these behind.

What about you all? How was the weekend for you?

 
Image: cherry blossoms at the MN Arboretum 

My friend naomikritzer and I were talking about things we would appropriate from other cultures the other day (mostly, we discussed how much better Jewish people do funerals,) and I brought up the idea of Hanami. What I like about the idea of Hanami is that people in Japan will often take time off work to just go look at flowers (specifically cherry blossoms, but if you read the Wikipedia article, you can see that it really applies to any flower.) We don't have anything like this in the US, possibly because there is no single flower that blooms everywhere in the US, since we're such a massive country. I feel like the closest we have to this kind of thing in the Midwest is leaf peeping in the fall. 

But, so Naomi and I decided to have a day of intentional flower viewing. We'd hoped that there would be enough flowering trees of some sort blooming at the Minnesota Arboretum, but, the cherry blossoms, had not entirely popped yet, alas. 

However, the tulips were in full bloom.


Image: so many tulips!

Naomi brought a picnic basket and had made us both a lovely chicken salad and so we wandered around the arboretum for a long time, checking out the tulip display and some of the other things that were in bloom. Yesterday was a very gorgeous day, with lots of sun (although it got quite warm, into the 80s F / 27 C.) 

This was my second time out at the MN Arboretum and, if you've never been, I have some advice for how best to appreciate it. My suggestion would be to go into the Welcome/Interpretive Center and get a map from the information desk. However, be warned, the maps and signage are fairly terrible. But, they always have a decent seasonal display very near the welcome center (again, ask for directions, because it's not self-evident how to get there--you need to go through the building, up the stairs/elevator, go to the right to get to the door, and once outside go left.) Near here is also the Japanese garden, which, ironically, had no cherry trees, but does have a koi pond.  I would, had I to do this again, wander these nearby gardens for awhile, and then hop back into the car and drive their "three mile road." The drive, which Naomi and I ended up doing at the end, will give you a good sense of what else there is to see in the arboretum. Then, you can decide where you might like to return to and/or hike to.  You can drive the loop as often as you like, so you could go around once just to see what there is to see and then drive it again and park at one of the official stops along the way and checkout whatever interests you. Had we done this first, Naomi and I probably would have stopped to admire the sculpture garden more, the Chinese garden, and the Rhododendron garden. As it was, we tried to walk the three mile walk (not difficult terrain and paved, but... it doesn't have great vantage points, and so) and ended up not seeing the Chinese garden from where we were.  

Anyway, that's my advice. Take it or leave it. If you are a seasoned hiker/walker the three-mile walk is really quite pleasant. I don't regret walking much of it, but I think if I go back I really want to check out the Bog Walk and some of the other less popular destinations. 


Image: pasqueflowers

Today was a day when we planned on a grocery run to Grand Marais. Since a trip to town is a half an hour away from the cabin, Mason and I decided to see of we could also squeeze in a hike somewhere. 

 
Image: Purple lilacs beginning to bloom

I have a new theory about my life as it relates to the garden/my yard. I may have already mentioned it, but it really seems to be shaping up to be true of the whole season, not just isolated days. Gardening is easy for me, every OTHER year. On the OTHER year, which this one is... it's just sort of... clumsy. 

Like today, I went out to check on how my garden was growing and water some of the things that I've planted in spots that tend to stay dry, even when it's rained a bit (ie under the eaves of the house.) While doing that, I tripped over my hose twice AND nearly pulled a plant up by dragging my hose clumsily around the corner of the house. 

I tried to trim back the mock orange so that I would poke myself in the eye every time I came around the corner and managed to snap off a branch that was still very healthy by accident. ARRRRGH.


Image: Virginia bluebells blooming in the garden

After watering some of the oregano I am trying to grow in some bare spots in the yard, I managed to slip in the mud an unearth one of the oregano bunches that I've had to replant SEVEN TIMES because the f*cking squirrels keep pulling it up. (Those little b*st*rds have been unearthing my bulbs, too, and because many of them are daffodils, they taste them, find them yucky, and just leave them to rot.)

That's not to say that the garden isn't thriving on its own, without my help. The lilacs are starting to bloom and the Virginia blue bell that I transplanted a couple of years ago has never looked heathier. I could not be more pleased with the bulbs I planted last fall. Thanks to the cool weather we've been having, several of the daffodils that survived the squirrels are still fully blooming. All of my trillium bloomed and it looks like the jack-in-the-pulpit is coming back strong, as well. 

It's just that I feel like when I go out there with the best intentions I make thing worse?

My only comfort is that I've had some pretty excellent EVERY OTHER years, and so the back shade garden is shaping up into something quite lovely. The peonies that I transplanted that are supposedly notoriously finicky to move around are thriving.  The thing that's making me crazy of course, is that when I see this success, I think, OH, I should do more of that. Let me just dig up this... and then because this is an off year I RUIN EVERYTHING. 

I just...

I guess this is a year for me to just leave everything ALONE. 

Image: A classicly drooping strand of pink bleeding hearts

Easier said than done, of course. One of my great pandemic joys has been putzing around in the garden. I spent much of last year reorganizing various spots, halving hostas, and such like. I'll just have to remember that any endeavor like that this year should be entered into with the foreknowledge that everything could die. So, I will try to remember to only attempt this in places where I really doesn't matter if I screw it up. 

Sheesh.

At least, right now, we have some sunshine. The weather here in Minnesota has been very weird. Colder than normal temperatures, plus overcast days. Like, the sun will be out in the morning and then a cold cloud cover will roll in and just mute all the light and warmth. I can't say it's been my favorite, even though I am normally a huge fan of slow, cool springs.

 Yesterday,  when I was out driving around, I came across our neighborhood gang of wild turkeys. I sent a video to rachelmanija who failed to be suitably impressed with Minnesota's mega fauna (because APPARENTLY California *has* wild turkeys, because California has everything as it is nearly the length of the entire United States and has like a zillion biomes in it,) I started to think, okay, does Minnesota have something that is so truly unique that a jaded, world-traveling Californian* would be impressed?  

Do you know what I found?

The grey tree frog, whose salient feature is that it can survive being PARTIALLY FROZEN.

OMG, Minnesota. You're a walking stereotype!!










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*I don't actually think of Rachel this way, I was just very grumpy that Minnesota doesn't appear to be as inherently (and easily photographed) unique the way that California certainly seems to be.