Musings

Rain. Spitty rain. Mist. Just wet out. Today’s been variable.

Recent winds have brought down many leaves, but plenty are still on the branches.

These leaves came from a maple my uncle planted several decades ago. It has an unusual upright shape for a maple. The Botanist once told me that nursery-folk have a special term for these types of trees, which are especially useful in many urban settings. Of course, I cannot remember the term. Maybe it was fastigate. Maybe columnar. Maybe something else I couldn’t turn up in a quick Google-searching adventure.

Posted at 5:37 PM | Comments Off on Columnar or fastigate?

Learned a new word from PCT hiker and lovely writer Carrot for a wonderful concept to have a word for…the word is petrichor, meaning the scent that follows a rainfall. Apparently, it’s not just the moisture we smell, but other complex scents from the soil and plants, caused/triggered by the moisture.

Anyway, rain in the afternoon and evening. But we’ve had so much that I didn’t get much of a hit of petrichor.

The “ichor” part of petrichor is the Greek word for the special fluid that is the blood of the deities.

Note: make a donation to Wikipedia, if you haven’t recently, and acknowledge how often you use it….

Posted at 5:36 PM | 1 Comment »

I confess I am (almost) convinced that Michigan means land of people who mow lots of grass. We may match that pattern this evening.

UPDATE: Kindly, kindly neighbor knocked back the worst of it around the door (and more) prior to our arrival; so sweet.

Posted at 10:22 PM | Comments Off on Hunch: definition

…in which our visitor looks up “gimlet” in the old Funk & Wagnalls.

And finds out that over a century ago, when this edition of F&W was published, it was a common hand tool rather like a T-shaped cork puller, but used for boring—from an old word for drill.

And not a gin/vodka-and-lime-juice drink.

Posted at 10:22 PM | 1 Comment »

I like this spot where the creek cuts through a band of roca madre*.

Has anyone else realized that the name the Pope-Hope has chosen means Daddy Frenchie (chosen by a Argentine of Italian descent).

* Literally, mother rock.

Posted at 8:13 PM | Comments Off on Relative terminology

Garbanzo-bean skins headed for the compost pile.

Today’s phrase: nuisance snow. Used to be: snow flurries, with no accumulation expected. In the lightest sense.

I saw nuisance snow at least four different times when I headed out today….

Posted at 11:23 PM | 1 Comment »

Reminder: pain in French means terrific bread; it is not painful to eat!

By the time this was built, estimated to be between AD 10 and 25, the Romans aimed to construct a complete architectural façade against which to stage their theatrical performances. As I understand it, the thrust of this was not only to be massive (see the tiny people to the far right of the frame) but to promote their vanquishing of this region. The formal name these days of this wonder is Théâtre antique d’Orange, and it is one of two that survive in this detail. Back in Roman days entrance was free; today you pay (that’s okay, your funds support maintenance), plus have to exit a winding trail through their junk shoppe.

Posted at 10:22 PM | Comments Off on Of bread and…not quite circuses

Carrying her loaded market bags, this local lady is headed…I dunno, to visit her sister? She’s crossing the bridge from the medieval section of Entrevaux to newer occupations across this defensible walkway. Note that right before the towers is a drawbridge (squint), of strong oak planks. I don’t know how often it is raised these days….

In these parts, a lacet is a shoelace. In this context, lacet means hairpin turns. I traveled (with the Guru driving) along more lacets today than any other day in my life. Please note that although we saw the highest road in Europe, we didn’t embark upon it (let alone traverse it). The roads we did traverse were plenty high and serpentine. Grazed the treeline, saw evidence of storms that came through about two days ago, but no trees across our path (whew!).

Thanks, readers! I’m heartened that you request MORE photos. The last B&B we stayed at had…limited internet service, so what I did post was a stretch. Today, well, I’m just plain tired. The upshot is, teeeheee, I get to show you more photos when I see you next!

Posted at 4:21 PM | 3 Comments »

My husband is my amanuensis.* Every once in a while.

Anyway, we passed this edifice, then he typed some “texts” for me, and voila!, we have a couples’-date for Satiddy-night fun!

* I learned that word from Rex Stout.

Posted at 10:38 PM | 2 Comments »

The light at oh-dark-thirty this morning (Sunday version, and therefore later than on weekdays) was not muted by overcast, and I found the low-angle sunlight stabbing this mundane mailbox.

Several houses down a giant fig tree overhangs the sidewalk, and the fruit* is ripe and beyond ripe, pungent and attended by insects. Given the overpowering odor, I am not surprised that this food-producing tree was singled out early by desert people for harvest.

* Apparently not actually a fruit, but an infructescence, for those who do not want common usage to trump technical meanings. Speaking of meanings, our otherwise tame word sycophant has an etymological link to the fig, if the internets are to be believed.

Posted at 10:16 AM | Comments Off on Light shining and shining light