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Gardening and things and such.
Sep. 16th, 2009 02:28 pmI feel like I've been overly quiet since Sunday. That probably has something to do with the fact that I've had to atone for my procrastinatory habits by doing a lot of grading and working on various other projects, to the detriment of sleep and bumming around on the internet.
Those projects include a conference that a group of grad students and I are organizing for mid-February on social insects and biomimicry, and planning for a kids' bike safety rodeo that's going on on Saturday (which is, incidentally, International Speak Like a Pirate Day).
Housekeepery responsibilities seem to have expanded as well, what with the expanded garden and wee chick-lets to care for. I don't have photographs of the following woebegone sight, but I'm afraid to report that the first round of tomato plants pretty much withered away.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trifold_flame thinks it might be blight, whereas scrottie blames the continued extreme temperatures [aside: after doing a quick image-search, I'm now skeptical of the blight hypothesis]. Regardless, we will persevere - there are tiny seedlings getting underway in the greenhouse-aquarium, and S transplanted another set of sturdy seedlings straight into the garden as well.
Meanwhile, Ms. Emma the Action Cat has noticed that Something is happening in the bike room, Something that makes peeping noises. I think she's a little peeved by the idea that other animals are getting the attention that she deserves, so she has been meowling at me a bit more than usual. The chick-lets have been having all sorts of fun while I'm away. They eat incredible amounts of food, and we can see them almost visibly growing. They also keep shoving pine shavings into their watering container, turning their pen into a serious waterlogged mess. Silly chickens.
In case you have been wondering, here are their names, although we haven't assigned individual names to individual chickens yet (minus one): Henrietta, Gertrude, Chaswell, Beatrice, and Oxnard. Oxnard is the one we've figured out already, a potential boy-chick who will be dispatched if we've gotten the sex right (no roosters allowed in Tempe). If you think the names are strange, you can blame the Scrabble Society. I might also have to let the Scrabble Society come up with names for any future offspring I have, given their excellent naming abilities. That way I won't end up with anybody named Sunflower Unicorn.
Those projects include a conference that a group of grad students and I are organizing for mid-February on social insects and biomimicry, and planning for a kids' bike safety rodeo that's going on on Saturday (which is, incidentally, International Speak Like a Pirate Day).
Housekeepery responsibilities seem to have expanded as well, what with the expanded garden and wee chick-lets to care for. I don't have photographs of the following woebegone sight, but I'm afraid to report that the first round of tomato plants pretty much withered away.
trifold_flame thinks it might be blight, whereas scrottie blames the continued extreme temperatures [aside: after doing a quick image-search, I'm now skeptical of the blight hypothesis]. Regardless, we will persevere - there are tiny seedlings getting underway in the greenhouse-aquarium, and S transplanted another set of sturdy seedlings straight into the garden as well.Meanwhile, Ms. Emma the Action Cat has noticed that Something is happening in the bike room, Something that makes peeping noises. I think she's a little peeved by the idea that other animals are getting the attention that she deserves, so she has been meowling at me a bit more than usual. The chick-lets have been having all sorts of fun while I'm away. They eat incredible amounts of food, and we can see them almost visibly growing. They also keep shoving pine shavings into their watering container, turning their pen into a serious waterlogged mess. Silly chickens.
In case you have been wondering, here are their names, although we haven't assigned individual names to individual chickens yet (minus one): Henrietta, Gertrude, Chaswell, Beatrice, and Oxnard. Oxnard is the one we've figured out already, a potential boy-chick who will be dispatched if we've gotten the sex right (no roosters allowed in Tempe). If you think the names are strange, you can blame the Scrabble Society. I might also have to let the Scrabble Society come up with names for any future offspring I have, given their excellent naming abilities. That way I won't end up with anybody named Sunflower Unicorn.
