Friday, July 17, 2020

Improving odds for ogling orchids

Odds are getting better that a small pleasure is heading my way, if I just keep my eyes open.

All summer I've been monitoring a particular patch of rattlesnake plantain orchid in the woods at Lake Katharine, visiting once or twice a week to see the checkered leaves send up a stalk that got a taller each visit and developed a bud that kept swelling until it looked like it was getting ready to pop, and all week long as I worked back home I'd wonder whether I would get back to the woods in time to see the blossoms before they got picked or trampled or otherwise destroyed.

Then last Monday morning my husband joined me on an early hike and while I was scanning the area to the right of the path to find my familiar orchid, he looked to the left and found another rattlesnake plantain also getting ready to blossom. Twice as many to monitor! Odds are getting better.

Then this morning I saw four more in different parts of the woods, for a total of six patches of rattlesnake plantain orchid getting ready to burst into bloom, mostly located in places where they're unlikely to get trampled. From the looks of the swelling buds, I ought to have something to see when I come back next week.

This is what my life has become: working diligently all week long at home so that I can pile into the car on Friday and drive 90 minutes in hopes of seeing a diminutive orchid in full bloom. Who knows, maybe this is as good as it gets.

The tallest stalk is about 12 inches


This one barely peeks out from under a mossy log




Thursday, July 16, 2020

Bumbling amongst the bees

Bee balm
brings calm
to me
(not the bee);

Purple fuzz
gives a buzz
to the bee
(not to me).
















Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Chains, shackles, and other teaching tools

Every time I go to campus, there's something new to see and experience--new routes through the building, new dividers in offices, new signs intended to keep people distant from each other while allowing face-to-face teaching in the fall. Every new change, though, raises a whole new crop of questions.

Take the new signs designed to prevent crowding in small office spaces: a bright yellow chain across the doorway and a sign saying "Pioneers lead the way--in practicing social distancing." They're spiffy-looking signs and I'm all for preventing people from barging in and violating my personal space, but at the same time I'm struggling to improve my availability to students outside of class and keeping them out of my office negates that message.

The one area where I regularly get low marks on course evaluations is my availability outside of class, and the scores are declining each year even though I spend a ton of time in my office, totally available. I tell students right up front that I don't have cell-phone access at home and so there's no point in giving them my cell-phone number, and I frequently remind them that the best way to reach me is via email. This used to be sufficient, but these days students resist using email and want to do everything by texting, which ain't gonna happen at my house. A really diligent student could look up my landline number in the phone book, but I guess they'd prefer to give me low marks on evaluations.

Now office visits will be unlikely and, from what I've heard, students are no more likely to use office hours on Zoom than they are face-to-face. Further, I can Zoom only when I'm on campus because of unreliable home internet service. I could do what I did when we shifted to all-online teaching in the spring--move to Jackson, where the internet service is more reliable--but then I would have to give up all hope of face-to-face teaching, and at the moment we're hoping to meet with students face-to-face at least part of the time.

To facilitate this, classrooms are being reconfigured to socially distance students, who will be required to wear masks. I have a hard time making myself understood when I'm wearing a mask, a problem that led to a minor understanding when I encountered the College President on campus this morning--good thing I wasn't trying to say anything particularly important. But not to fear: the College is installing transparent dividers so teachers standing at the computer console in front of the classroom will be able to take off masks and teach--as long as they stand behind the divider.

Well, I don't know how to teach while standing still. I need to wander around waving my arms and drawing ridiculous diagrams on the whiteboard, which will not be possible if I have to stay behind a clear divider. They'll need to install some leg irons to shackle me in place and keep my students safe.

And that's what it's all about--keeping students safe. If all this disruption will hold the virus at bay, I'll gladly go along for the ride, even if it means forcing myself to stay still while teaching or taking a different door out of the building because traffic patterns have changed. Chain me in, shackle me up, and let's get learning!
 



Sunday, July 12, 2020

A cracked and leaky decision-making process

There's a type of paralysis that comes from too much choice, too many options, too many opinions--if I dig far enough into the consumer reviews of this electric hotpot, I'll surely find a one-star review that scares me off, but then there are hundreds of other hotpots available, each offering a host of options I don't know whether I need, in prices ranging from the negligible to the laughable, each with a gaggle of admirers touting the glories of this hotpot but, again, read far enough and I'll find the complaints, and how can I possibly spend real money on a hotpot that might leak just as badly as the one I'm trying to replace?

And it's worse, of course, when the decision is more consequential. I won't break the bank buying a wonky hotpot, but what about a new water softener system? Is a $1500 system twice as good as a $750 system, or is it just a lot of hype? And what about the roof? I don't need to replace it tomorrow but one of these days it needs some attention, so I keep asking friends with experience in such things to recommend roofing contractors so I can get some estimates--but every recommendation comes with its own caveats, its own negative consumer reviews, though it make take a little longer to find them.

And then if I did find a water softener or a roofing contractor whose record didn't scare me, how would I feel about having workmen at my house during a global pandemic? I survived having the air conditioner serviced, but that was a quick bit of work by a guy who kept his distance and never came in the house. Maybe it would be better to just postpone everything until life gets back to normal? But if everyone thought that way, roofers and air conditioning repair dudes and water softener installers would go out of business. Isn't stimulating the economy part of my civic duty?

I can't decide.

Life would be so much easier if I could just flip a coin and trust to chance, but the little Puritans who live in my brain insist that mistakes are costly and every penny counts. So I live with a leaky hotpot, wonder about water softeners, worry about the roof until the need becomes urgent enough to spur immediate action. Meanwhile, I'll just sop up the water leaking out of the hotpot and sit down for a nice cup of tea.


Tuesday, July 07, 2020

Perpetual motion machine on the premises

When the slides at the playground are too hot for the grandkids to slide on, and when I can't carry my camera because my hands are too sweaty, and when two adults and three children are tempted to squeeze into a tiny kiddie pool, it's too stinking hot.

I know I shouldn't complain because the heat wave is worse further south and we are blessed with abundant air conditioning--and besides, the heat wave has slowed the grass down so much that I may not even have to mow this week. But the heat melts my brain cells and makes it hard to make sense of our whirlwind weekend, and when you mix in sleep deprivation caused by the abundant amateur fireworks taking place in our neighborhood, it's really hard to formulate a coherent thought. Nevertheless here are some highlights of our holiday weekend:

We worked a jigsaw puzzle, splashed in the kiddie pool, visited playgrounds, had some socially distant visits with fun people, ate hot dogs and sweet corn and homemade potato salad followed by fresh peach pie (a group effort) on the Fourth, colored pictures and chalked sidewalks and threw rocks in the creek and (some of us) went for a long walk in the woods very early in the morning before the temperature hit triple digits.

My grandson hit some long balls in the backyard, with Grampa pitching. My younger granddaughter, dressed as a rainbow, decorated our front walk with sidewalk chalk. My older granddaughter tried once again to build a bridge across our creek, so determined that I have no doubt that one she'll finally succeed. We told stories and silly jokes and looked at birds and buds and butterflies.

All weekend our household felt like a perpetual motion machine, lubricated by love and laughter so that even when the thermometer soared, the machine never stopped working. Now, though, it's time to give it a rest--preferably indoors, in front of a fan.














No rock is too big for this kid.




Wednesday, July 01, 2020

Staycation sightings: eagles, ospreys, buzzards, and bobber-birds

We saw a half dozen great blue herons within our first ten minutes paddling on Deer Creek Lake early this morning, and later we saw kingfishers, ospreys, eagles, whole families of ducks, and turkey vultures, but at one point I got really excited because I thought I was seeing a red-headed woodpecker in the wild. Then I looked closer: it was a fishing bobber stuck in a tree.

But that's not the oddest thing we've seen two days into our Staycation. Yesterday we went for a drive around Cooper's Hollow wildlife area, where we looked at a furnace leftover from the days when southern Ohio was a pig-iron smelting area, and at one point we found ourselves on a remote potholed gravel road and we saw a huge flock of black vultures swirling around a field, with no carrion in view. What would draw so many vultures to this remote place? Then we saw the signs: this was where a nearby food-processing plant discards its sludge and used cooking oil. Yum?

Mullein is blossoming all over the place.

Defunct furnace at Cooper Hollow.



Just a few of the massive flock of black vultures.

Deer Creek Lake early this morning.

We saw many great blue herons.

Kingfisher

Osprey family in the nesting box above the lake.

Cormorants




Bad lighting, but that's a bald eagle.

Taking a break upstream from the lake.

We saw many ducks in the upper part of the creek.



Osprey carrying a small fish to the nesting box.