Gopher Day 2011

As most of you know I started a new tradition last year called "Gopher Day" that occurs every year on the day after Groundhog Day. I call it Gopher Day since I have a gopher living in my house rather than a groundhog.

Digby, my odd and proud little gopher, has been with my family since before I was born, so there's no telling how old he is. He's from a beautiful world deep inside the earth called Krybos. While in his native Krybos Digby can speak like you or I do, albeit with an unsettling Sean Connery accent. Here in the surface world he is more gopher-like and tunnels through the neighborhood, tortures us all with non-stop stomach distress, and makes funny squeaking noises because he doesn't have speech capabilities. And although he can't talk here in the surface world, he more than makes up for it with street-smarts which, I guess, in his case would be tunnel-smarts.

On last year's inaugural Gopher Day, Digby established how he was going to prognosticate on the coming weather trends, making certain there was no similarity to how the lowly groundhog does it. (See Gopher Day 2010 post). I knew this year would be no different.

I woke up this morning when Digby jumped onto the bed then clawed his way up and over the edge, having not quite made the leap. I could feel the covers being clawed away a few inches at a time. I just laid there with the remaining corner of the top sheet pulled up to my nose and waited for the inevitable. When it didn't come, I took a breath and peeked out to see my furry friend sitting on his haunches with a DVD case clamped in his bite.

Now remember, last year Digs abandoned traditional rodent weather prognostication methods and made a deliberate selection of a DVD with a seasonal theme to indicate his decision. He chose National Lampoon's Vacation which is a warm, summer-themed movie. So, I wondered, what would this year be?

As I sat up, Digby came forward and offered the dripping movie case which I took and swiped across my pajama top. "Interesting choice," I told him. "The cover says it all."

I placed "The Day After Tomorrow" DVD case on the nightstand then scooped my little buddy into my arms. Following the familiar sounds stirring above us, we climbed the spiral staircase to the fourth floor treasure room called Grandpa's Attic.

"I'm sure you know the groundhog didn't see his shadow yesterday," I said. "That means he's predicting an early Spring." Digby gave me his toothy smile as if to stand by his decision. "Right. Well, one thing's for certain. One of you is wrong."

Just because Digby is predicting six more weeks of winter weather doesn't mean we can expect it. I really think his prediction is based more on differentiating himself from the groundhog. After all, he's not a weather expert, he's a movie expert.

Until next time,

Maddie

May Apples in Spring!

Maddy here!

It's the time of year for May Apples, being May and all. This year the mountains of Virginia are thick with them. Here are two pictures I took yesterday of what I call a May Apple Meadow, sheltered beneath a forest canopy not far from my house (Douthat State Park).

These May Apples (Podophyllum peltatum) erupted from the forest floor in April, bloomed their single white flower in May, and now their tiny fruit (see bottom picture) will steadily grow and ripen through the summer.

You can see that the plant has a single base stem from which a pair of umbrella-like leaves branch and rise up to shelter the fruit that forms at the leaf junction. Some plants in the picture above only have a single stem and leaf. These are first year plants and won't produce any flowers or fruit. No junction, no fruit. Cool, huh?

Supposedly, the fruit has a lemon flavor, but there is no way I'm going to taste test it. I've read that the May Apple fruit is edible and that some people eat them, but it is also reported that it is toxic in quantity. I choose to appreciate the plant only for its physical beauty and avoid ingesting any part of it.

Why? It's just a simple a safe rule for me. Since parts of the plant (leaves, stem and root) are definitely considered toxic, I avoid ALL of it. That's seems a logical approach for me since it's easy to do, and so far it's worked. No toxin issues with me.

My little brother, Mica, is safe because Mom can't even get him to eat a real apple. The Apple iPod is the only apple he knows anything about. Me, I'm a Granny Smith kind of girl. Tart and juicy!

This past summer when I was in Krybos, I nearly flipped when I saw my pet gopher, Digby, eating May Apples as fast as he could cram them in. I tried to stop him but he quickly pointed out, speaking in a Scottish accent, no less, that Krybos May Apples are not toxic at all. I was so stunned that he could speak English, I forgot all else. Still, I prefer to be guaranteed safe rather than hurling my guts up, or worse! And besides, Digs is a native of Krybos. Maybe he's just immune to any ill effects.

Below, I've included links to two great sites on May Apples.

That's all for now!
Maddy

1. http://www.briartech.com/earlyspring/mayapple/may.htm
   
2. http://www.altnature.com/gallery/mandrake.htm
   "May Apple was once called the witches umbrella and thought to be employed by them as a poison, which may not be untrue! The English version of this plant has much lore told of it, being called Manroot (mandrake) believed to be alive and its screams when pulled from the ground would render a man permanently insane."

Happy A F Day!

Every year I step out into the world on April 1st with my guard up and my senses on red alert, determined not to fall victim to another silly April Fool's joke. This year my confidence was high. Throughout the school day I moved cautiously from classroom to classroom, checking my seat for gum and the usual stupidness. I was ever vigilant as I opened my locker, and as I ventured into the hallways and the lunchroom. So far, so good, I kept telling myself.

This was going to be a banner year for me! Only a few more hours to go, and I'd be safely back home where I had planned to finish the day sorting and slicing specimens from my box of Moroccan geodes.

That's right. A banner year.

Well when I got home, I went straight up to Grandpa's Attic where I kept my box of geodes. These particular geodes were from Morocco and said to have very good crystalline structure inside, even better than the geodes from Mexico.

Needless to say, I was excited to get started.

I grabbed my safety goggles and gloves, then hefted my box of rocks onto the work bench that Grandpa had set up for the messier jobs like this one I was about to start. I pulled the box flaps back and stared in horror at what lay at the bottom.

My box of beautiful Moroccan geodes had been reduced to a lumpy pile of brown dust littered with disintegrated white crystal crumbles. They looked like they had been through a meat grinder. Anger began to build and I knew if I didn't get control of it, blood would shoot out of my eyes. I knew what I had to do, and I knew where to find him.

I pulled my gloves on, stretching and snapping each finger into place. Then, I seated the safety goggles over my eyes and walked purposefully across the expanse of Grandpa's Attic to the spiral stairs. I usually ride the elevator, but Mica knows this. It was time to change my usual MO.

I found Mica in the backyard cavern. He and Digby were sitting, legs dangling, on the wall of the elevated stone pool in the center of our cavern. Perfect, I thought. I can pay him back for trashing my geodes and teach him a valuable lesson at the same time.

Mica is forbidden to be near the pool without either an adult with him, or me. But, there he was all the same. I sneaked in and came around behind the pool, staying low and out of sight. I could see that Mica was showing Digby something, a rock. No, it was a geode. A Moroccan geode!

I dropped down and leaned back against the pool wall. It was over three feet high, so I remained hidden while my anger intensified.

Finally, I rose up and reached across the pool to drag Mica in. Just as I grabbed the neck of his shirt, Grandpa shouted my name. I turned toward his voice and drew my hand back, crashing face first into the pool, generating a soaking Free Willy-style splash. The cave averages 54ºF year-round, but the water always seems warmer. Not geothermal warm, but still warmer than the air. Thank goodness.

I bobbed to the surface, pushing strands of hair from my face and was greeted by Grandpa and Mica laughing hysterically at me, and Digby polishing his dripping fur. That's when I noticed in Grandpa's arms, a cardboard box. Digby hopped on top of the box and disappeared beneath the loose flaps. When he emerged, he held beautiful Moroccan geodes in each paw! My geodes.

"April Fool's!" and "You're all wet," echoed throughout the cavern as Mica jumped in the pool with me for a swim.

That's all for now,
Maddy