WhirledView

Tuesday Buffalo Gourd Blogging

by Cheryl Rofer

Last year, I bought a packet of buffalo gourd (Cucurbita foetidissima) seeds. Buffalo gourd (which I've previously known as coyote melon) is a luxurious plant I've always wanted in my yard. It is a perennial curcibit, spreading its vines of leathery gray-green leaves over an area tens of feet across, with curcibit-yellow flowers, smaller than those of summer squash or pumpkin, that result in little yellow gourds.

I planted some seeds last year in a place that I particularly wanted my buffalo gourd vine: very sandy, overlooking my rose and lilac bushes, to cover an area that seemed unlikely to support much else. Nothing.

Earlier this year, I sprouted some buffalo gourd seeds and planted them in multiple places around the yard. Nothing. I planted a few in flower pots in the house. They didn't get enough sun and became very leggy and so soft that they died the first day in the sun.

I sprouted more seeds and planted them in pots outside. The cotyledons, those funny-looking leaves that first emerge from the seed, were bitten off, I think by the local towhees. But one plant survived. It is still in the pot during these dry days, basil below and parsley above.

I also planted a few seeds in an indoor pot and put it in the sunniest spot in the house. Two of them came up and did quite well. I put them outside to harden up, and they did well until the towhees found them. You can see the lesser damage to the cotyledons on the larger one; they were totally bitten off the smaller one. I suppose I could put this pot outside now, but I am wary.

It's been horrendously dry for at least a month now. I drove through a rainstorm yesterday that ended just north of my house. These two plants are doing reasonably well, and the third may come along. I'm going to wait until the rains come to plant them in that sandy place.

My googling shows that some think there may be all sorts of uses for buffalo gourd. I'll be happy if those gray-green leaves take over that area above the roses.

POW Experience and the Presidency

by Cheryl Rofer

When I heard Wesley Clark say, on Sunday, that while John McCain's behavior as a prisoner of war was honorable, it wasn't a job qualification for the presidency, I breathed a sigh of relief that at last someone was calling the McCain campaign, and possibly even more so, the media, on the unthinking conflation of things military with things civilian.

McCain's POW experience speaks to a particular kind of military discipline and honor. Those qualities have some relevance to the character traits we want in a president. But too often, McCain's POW experience seems to stand in for experience in foreign affairs, military command, and numerous other intellectual/managerial qualities we want in a president. I thought that Clark made the distinction nicely, and that it was a distinction that needed saying.

So ensues the faux outrage over any criticism of anything military. Andrew Bacevich has pointed out the militarization of our society, which includes putting military experience beyond criticism. Today he has an op-ed in the Boston Globe that speaks to other matters, but it has some relevance to the Clark furor.

The challenge facing Obama is clear: he must go beyond merely pointing out the folly of the Iraq war; he must demonstrate that Iraq represents the truest manifestation of an approach to national security that is fundamentally flawed, thereby helping Americans discern the correct lessons of that misbegotten conflict.

The problem with a lifetime of honorable service in the military, intensified by experience as a POW, is that it can produce a mindset that elevates that military. McCain's membership in today's Republican party and everything he has said so far on the Iraq war suggest that he shares this mindset, part of the militarization of our society.

So I'm joining others in the blogosphere in saying that Wesley Clark said nothing wrong. In fact, what he said could be a beginning of disentangling American security from mindless militarism.

Others commenting:

Ezra Klein

Kevin Drum

Jason Sigger

Cernig

Ron Beasley

Libby

Meanwhile, on Mars

by Cheryl Rofer

That white stuff that the Phoenix's shovel dug into has disappeared. A few days ago, the scientists thought it might be sand or something else that would have indicated long-ago water, like the sand deposits around my house. But the fact that it has disappeared means that it was probably ice.

And here's the untold story of the first Earthling to set foot on Mars.

Tuesday Humidity Blogging

by Cheryl Rofer

I woke up to a beautiful smell this morning. In contrast to the Midwest, we have been having excessively dry weather. We had clouds yesterday, so I could open up the house last night before I went to bed. I woke up to a typically New Mexican smell of humidity (not even moisture) interacting with the soil and vegetation.

It's slightly sweet, with a strong mineral component, a bit like concrete, but wilder. We have it in Santa Fe, hardly ever when I lived in Los Alamos. Until I moved to Santa Fe, I associated it with the wildlife refuges at Bosque del Apache and Bitter Lakes, where the Rio Grande and Pecos River supply overnight humidity .

I suspect it has to do with the ancient lakebed soils those three locations share and Los Alamos doesn't have. It frequently contains a hint of sage, particularly at the southern locations. Right now, the sweet is partly from the blooming Russian olives.

It feels good, too, a relief from the dryness. We have had clouds today, and about six large drops of rain.

I suspect that the rain in the Midwest and the dry here result from a stationary weather pattern over the United States, what they call an omega-block. Maybe this humidity is a sign that the pattern is breaking up. Our local news has gone to a non-explanatory weather format: wear your coat this morning, bring an umbrella, not a word of fronts or jetstreams, let alone omega blocks.

The photos are of two kinds of primroses this morning: Missouri evening primrose (Oenothera macrocarpa) and dwarf sun drops (Calylophus serrulatus). The dwarf sun drops are temperamental; they form a small bush, about 20-30 cm across, with woody but very slender branches that I prune back in the spring. One of them died last year for no apparent reason while two others stayed healthy. On the other hand, they are seeding themselves. I tried transplanting some of the seedlings the other evening, but I think they aren't going to make it. I'll wait until the rainy season. Here's the full bush.

Not Fare Well...

by Cheryl Rofer

We actually have a few clouds in the sky today, and I'm wishing that my blogfriends would send some of their excess rain rather than another of these silly memes. Both Shane and Dave tossed this one my way. I'm wondering how many times it's been around the world electronically. It resembles some I've seen before, with mutations. If we knew the rate of mutation, we might be able to calculate how many times it's been around the world.

The Rules:
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
5. Present an image of martial discord from whatever period or situation you'd like.

1. Done
2/1. I have an aunt named Albert. (Extra credit to anyone who can tell me where this comes from.)
2/2. I lost my little brother on the New York Subway on the way to the Museum of Natural History.
2/3. I can't think of four more things.
3/4. I don't do this. You guys should know that by now!
5.

The post that I didn't get to writing in place of this one involves India, so here is Krishna instructing Arjuna at the battle of Kurukshetra. I'm not much of a student of the Bhagavad Gita, so I may be getting some things wrong here.

This encounter, as I've understood it, has always bothered me and seems to have some resonances for today. Arjuna looks at the field of battle, sees his relatives on the side he will fight, and says no, I just can't do it, I don't see any way that any good will come of this. The god Krishna sees Arjuna's hesitation and instructs him that the war is his destiny, and therefore, no matter what Arjuna's mortal mind tells him, it is right for Arjuna to use his bowman's skill to kill his relatives. Arjuna goes along with this, and the end is far from a marvelous triumph.

T. S. Eliot used this moment in The Dry Salvages, one of his Four Quartets.

So Krishna, as when he admonished Arjuna
On the field of battle.
Not fare well,
But fare forward, voyagers.

I've found that admonition sometimes to be comforting on a personal level, but as a collective justification for war, it's been too much used.

Image from here.

Tuesday Chamisa Blogging

by Cheryl Rofer

Some time ago, I showed you some chamisa bushes that needed pruning. I finished pruning them some time back, but hadn't gotten around to photographing them. They're growing nicely, so I photographed them this morning. Here they are in the order in which I showed them in that earlier post.

That last one is at an opposite angle from the earlier photo, but I think it makes the point.

I've also trimmed chamisa that was blocking my view at the end of my driveway. Now there are two other big ones I'd really like to cut back. I think I can cut them back without damaging them as long as they are in a growing phase, so I've got probably another month.

Tuesday Found! Blogging

by Cheryl Rofer

This lovely little cactus (a few centimeters across) lives in one of the drainage channels in my yard, not too far from my house. I've known that it's in that particular channel, but I can't always find it when I go back. Last year a couple of others of this type just disappeared. One left a sad little pile of spines; a local cactus expert told me that it probably had been attacked by a fungus.

I saw it because it was blooming; can't quite tell if it's finished blooming or in the middle. I've worried about this one, because I don't want to step on it. So I piled some of the river rocks from my yard on the downhill side.

And here are a couple of "coming attractions" from weeks past. This funny little flower

and my green pitaya, which I was afraid had died over the winter. Not at all.

The Photo I Couldn't Post at Washington Monthly

Explanation here.

Tuesday Bird Blogging

by CKR

Claret-cup hedgehogs from a coming attraction a couple of weeks back.

The ravens seem to be gone, but I haven't put out those rich blocks of seed that contain pecans and dried cranberries yet. Every time I think about doing so, I see a raven making a low pass over the feeder area.

I do have quite a few doves, mostly the mourning sort. I thought I saw one the other day with a white edge along its wing, although the rest of it was clearly a mourning dove. I've been wondering if they can interbreed with the white-winged doves.

A pair of black-headed grosbeaks (Pheucticus melanocephalus) are regular customers. This is the female.

The hummingbird feeders are on the other side of the house. At least one broad-tailed hummingbird is a regular. A couple of weeks ago, a female Bullock's oriole (Icterus bullockii) was checking the hummingbird feeders out. Orioles like sugar water, too, and the stores sell a larger version of hummingbird feeders for them. I quickly put some orange halves into the trees, but I haven't seen her since. What I did see, just the other day, was a male western tanager (Piranga ludoviciana), who also likes fruit. So I went out to renew the oranges. They were pretty well pecked-at, which means that just because I'm not seeing the birds doesn't mean they're not there.

They have a new admirer, too, one that I'm not wild about. A young gray cat was watching the feeder the other day. He's clearly interested in the lizards too. Yesterday I saw him with something in his mouth. It was small, but now that I think about it, it may have been a mouse, which would be okay with me.

A few nights back, there was quite a ruckus. Apparently two families, one of three birds and the other of two, were having something of a disagreement. This was one of them. It looks like a Cassin's kingbird (Tyrannus vociferans), but it's hard to be sure from this distance. I haven't seen them before or since.

Deborah Howell Discovers Old White Men - On the WaPo Opinion Page

by CKR

The ombudsman for the Washington Post, Deborah Howell, today gives us the stats, and they are unambiguous: old white men write most of the Post's opinion pieces and are most of the people employed by the Post to do so.

I vaguely recall a time, a few years back, when one of their opinion page editors, a woman, asked for women bloggers to make themselves known to her. WhirledView was new, and we seized the opportunity. I think there was some response, but the interaction quickly died.

I've written a couple of e-mails to Deborah Howell, but the most I ever got back was an automated response saying she would be on vacation for six months or something equally encouraging.

I may be obsessed with business models lately, but I find it strange that Howell seems to expect that the answer to diversifying the Post's op-ed page is that somehow, mysteriously, women will submit more op-eds to the Post. Most organizations interested in increasing diversity have recognized that they have to be a bit more proactive in finding those diverse people.

Answering e-mails would seem to be a minimal beginning in that direction.