Last Thursday, I saw the movie Transformers with a friend. As we walked out, I started to share what I thought was an interesting observation about Optimus Prime and his acceptable level of casualties.
“No,” I assured him and I started citing examples from WWII and all the doctors who died from radiation sickness trying to master X-rays.
On Saturday, I accompanied Sean and his parents to visit Jamestown (we went to the State Park recreation– not the National Park Site). It was good timing– May of 2007 was the 400th anniversary of England’s first permanent colony in the New World. There is a big todo about this particular bragging right– Plymouth often fills that role in people’s minds… but Plymouth was settled 13 years later. I prepped for our journey be reading two Jamestown articles in the May 2007 issue of National Geographic. The author of one of those articles was a native of Massachussetts. When he interviewed locals about the Jamestown anniversary, his subjects were skeptical, “Why? Are you from Plymouth?!?”
You know…there are things I forget about history. You should have heard me and Larry bantering on and feeding each other misconceptions when we stopped by Valley Forge a few years ago. You should also have seen our synchronized, stupified hush once we started reading the real details.
I felt a similiar pause of ignorance when I read about how drastically the colonists changed this land. It is actually not unlike the red vines in War of the Worlds. The colonists struggled to survive in this new environment so they converted it to what they were used to. The planted their own plants (granted not as scary as the red vines). They brought their own lifestock (horses, cattle, pigs). And some things that seem so natural in the ecosystem now came from Europe. Nightcrawlers! Honeybees! I was surprised and at the same time I felt I should have known better.
Another thing about these colonists. Bear Grylls and/or Les Stroud would have much to frown upon. I know what the colonists did was brave and took courage that I would never have (Heck, I dillydally about moving 150 miles away). But, with my running water, my heat and, most importantly, my internet, my spoiled self still questions the will of the colonists. Let’s overlook the fact that they banked too much on trading with the Indians and they didn’t plan on growing their own food (Solid plan there, fellas). The thing that struck me the most was the account that during “The Starving Time” the colonists were too scared of Powhatan hostility to leave their fort to look for food. 80% of people died that winter and get this– some people dug their own graves, laid down in them and waited to die. What?!? If you are already acquiescing to death and you still have enough energy to dig a grave, is there that much harm of going outside and try to find some food? Bah!
Speaking of which, it sounds like John Smith was the Bear Grylls/Les Stroud of the day. In a previous winter (he was back in England during The Starving Time) he, as crazy as it sounds, actually went on a mission to find food for the colonists. Good for him.
By the way– did you know that John Smith did not marry Pocahontas? She married a different Englishman by the name of John Rolfe. So convinced was I that she married John Smith that when I first read the name of her husband, I thought, “Oh, I guess he went by two names.”
That was my explanation. John Smith was John Smith and John Rolfe. It couldn’t possibly be that I was wrong. 🙂
One final note– Jamestown was privately funded. It wasn’t a government venture– it was investors. They formed the “Virginia Company” and had hoped to strike it rich with gold and silver. I like the example that you don’t need a federal government to fund discovery. Though an example without people eating their dead may be a little more uplifting.
Most of my pictures are actually from the ferry ride across the James River. You can pretend they are related to my paragraphs above:
Me — Well fed, covered in sunblock, near an automobile, with sunglasses to protect my eyes from UVA rays and a fancy schmacy digital camera… still judging the colonists
Larry and I got to see 10 miles of this road in April. Besides the usual snow plowing that takes months to complete, this year a rainstorm washed away part of the road and delayed the opening until July 1st.
The RealAge Test, but for dogs. It takes into account your dog’s health and lifestyle and reports back his/her age in people years. Jimmie (10) was 39.6 and Henry (8) was 48.9.
Near the end of Steel Magnolias, M’Lynn (Sally Field) talks about the death of her daughter, Shelby (Julia Roberts). When the doctors removed Shelby’s life support, Shelby’s father left the room and Shelby’s husband left the room as well. But M’Lynn stayed with her daughter and held her hand until the very end. She was the only one who stayed even though “Men are supposed to be made out of steel or something.” (See where the movie gets part of its title?)
On Sunday when it came time to paint the ceiling of the upstairs hallway, I found out who my “Steel Magnolia” was. Sean didn’t participate in any of the house projects this past week and this one no different– he watched TV. My mother had given me ample notice that she had no interest in ceiling painting, plus she was weary from four solid days of dedicated work. She stayed downstairs and read a book.
It needed to be done, so armed with my roller, my white can of paint, my hiking headlamp (really good to help see missed spots) and an eccletic set of dropclothes, I commenced the chore. It wasn’t long before I realized I wasn’t alone. Who was with me? Jimmie! He curled up on one of the dropclothes and watched. His support did not falter– He stayed upstairs the entire time. And amazingly enough, he never once got in the way. When I needed to stand in his spot, he took a few steps down the stairs and just waited until my work in that area was done.
And where was Henry the Beagle? Cowering downstairs. There wasn’t a single aspect of this operation, ranging from rollers to dropclothes, that did not terrify him. I guess I know which dog will not protect me in the face of danger.
While I am on the subject, I do have to highlight my mother and her contributions this past week. There were things that were not fun, but she did them cheerfully. Sometimes we were listening to her CD (Avril Lavigne) but even when we were listening to my CDs, she didn’t complain. Her expertise and work ethic were valuable, but more so was her company. That is a trend with my mother– I can really count on her company.
Here’s a quick example from college. I loved the Kids in the Hall and I really, really, really wanted to see their movie Brain Candy when it came out. Alas, I couldn’t find a single person to go with me. Finally, my mother agreed to accompany me. There was a scene in the movie my mother found so disgusting she gagged— and she STILL stayed for the rest of the film and she still continues to go to movies with me to this day (though she routinely reminds me about the Kids in the Hall debacle).
I think more contemporary evidence surfaces when you look at geocaching. My mother has accompanied me on more geocaches than any other person– even the young, adventurous whipper-snappers like Stacy. Mom’ll tromp through the woods, dodge thorny bushes and when we get close, she’ll point out suspicious piles of sticks or leaves.
All this stuff– helping me with home repairs, braving gag-inducing movies and finding pieces of tupperware in the woods– she does this, at least in part, for me.
(Apparently I show that appreciation by making her remove wallpaper, coercing her to gag-inducing movies and dragging her out into the middle of the woods).
Man vs. Wild (Born Survivor in U.K.) is facing claims of being faked. I actually don’t care if someone helped him build his raft. The show is informative, it’s entertaining. And as long as Bear keeps battling hypothermia and having to take off all his clothes, I’ll be sure to watch. 🙂
Tonight is Mom’s last night in Blacksburg. Instead of working on house projects, I took her to Ben and Jerry’s (she accepts ice cream as payment for services rendered), a drive around campus and then I took her to the relatively new Inn at the Virginia Tech. In particular, I took her to the needlepoint that is on display there at the conference center.
The needlepoint was presented to Virginia Tech in 1975 and was done in honor of the 1976 bicentennial. There are 104 separate squares in the piece representing different cities and counties in Virginia. Some squares are very elaborate while others are a little less decorative. Overall, there are more than two million stitches in the piece and some squares took 195 man hours to complete. It is pretty neat to look at:
The Roanoke Veterans would be pleased to see that the Roanoke Star is depicted as Red, White and Blue here.
From Google Cache– I used the Removing An Old Toilet steps today. The tip about soaking tank bolts in oil came in real handy when removing the tank.
Dude– did you know you could *rent* a waterbed pump to expedite the draining process?!? UHaul has it for $7.95 a day. I rented one in Blacksburg at Heavener Rental. Was able to drain and return the equipment in about 2 hours.
I spent an abnormal amount of time in middle school praying not to get my period or breasts. You can say I was “change adverse”.
Today is the last day of National Fig Week! (Hat Tip @treeplanting). We had a pretty hearty fig tree in our front yard in Elizabeth City. It was the only planted tree that could survive the routine Hunter Street floodings.
I knew that fig tree was quite the survivor and I sure loved snacking on its handiwork whenever I let the dogs do their business. But until last week I had no idea the intricacies involved with how that species propagated itself and thrived.
Recently I was reading The Tree: A Natural History of What Trees Are, How They Live, and Why They Matter by Colin Tudge. I’ve found it absolutely fascinating and filled with delightful tidbits of tree trivia. For example, I learned that figs are pollinated by fig wasps and that each species of fig has its very own brand of fig wasp.
“There were a lot of wasps around that tree,” Ryan noted when I told him. I had been completely oblivious. Some naturalist I am!
It gets better though! Those delicious figs I had been munching on– They were the final resting spots of female wasps who got trapped inside! All this time, I had been defiling wasp tombs! How fitting that National Fig Week is adjacent to Halloween!
There is no cause for disgust though– the fig breaks down the wasp’s corpse and digests it. By the time I got to it, the dead wasp was long gone.
This is just the tip of the iceberg. The whole relationship between the Fig and the Fig Wasp is quite amazing (including how the newly hatched males wasps’ only purpose in life is to fertilize the young females and then dig tunnels for them to escape). For further reading (assuming you don’t have Colin Tudge’s book handy), check out How Stuff Works – Are Figs Really Full of Baby Wasps?
Gosh dang it, that Ryan Somma is a more efficient blogger than I am. It only took him two days to get his Ira Glass post published.
Sunday October 23rd, Ryan and I went our on second date since Sagan was born! Our first was to see Jane Goodall (which Ryan promptly blogged about as well). This date took us to the Chrysler Hall in Norfolk Virginia to listen to Ira Glass of This American Life speak. We very much enjoyed the event. You can read Ryan’s recap on ideonexus.com.