If I got the parent plant from a nursery, but this is a shoot, does that make it semi-yamadori?
I haven’t worked the trunks yet, aside from a little chop to keep it from being ridiculously top heavy, letting it get over the transplanting. But, the bloom makes feel pretty good about it.
The nursery stock it came from is ‘Tuscarora’.
Our sensations aren’t the same. And… I think most of us know that some. But, it can be pretty dramatic and I believe we often don’t take that into consideration.
If you have ever been to a wine tasting and tried to compare notes with someone whose taste buds don’t match yours, you got a dose of awareness of that. That’s why it drives me crazy when the person pouring the wine tries to tell me what to expect. I will grant that there have been times when one of the really oddball descriptors have been shockingly accurate and it has bowled me over. “Leather? Tobacco? Really?” Yes. Really. Even though they aren’t words that one usually associates with wine.
Once upon a time, we got a Vanilla Chai Chocolate Bar. I had a piece first. My husband is a big fan of cardamom and I said “You are really going to like this. The cardamom is strong.” Later, when he finally had a piece, he said “I can barely taste the chai flavor because the vanilla is so strong.” I really like vanilla. So, this imbalance is incredibly unfair.
Later, I started making a lavender-vanilla simple syrup to make shrubs in the evening when I didn’t want something alcoholic during the cocktail hour. The recent crop of lavender kind of overpowers the vanilla and I told Chuck I think the next batch might just be all vanilla. He decided to try my concoction (he usually opts for ginger or mint syrup) and told me he could barely taste the lavender for the vanilla.
When I had been considering how our perceptions differ, I wondered out loud to a friend whether what we see isn’t actually the same. We label a certain wavelength “blue” and all call that wavelength by that name. But, there’s no real reason to believe that we are truly registering the same thing.
My friend was appalled. He insisted that if it’s the same wavelength, we must see the same thing. But, I still think that if our taste buds can register flavors differently, there’s no reason to believe our cones and rods don’t do the same thing. Clearly, that’s true for people who have various types of colorblindness.
I’m talking about something more extreme, though. I’m envisioning being able to slip my consciousness into your body and see that the sky is what this body sees as red and taste as lemon what this body perceives to be chocolate. We agree that a think* is pleasant because we like it. But, there’s no real reason to believe we are actually experiencing the same thing.
*Ha! Leaving the typo because it fits.
The National Folk Festival has been around for 79 years. It’s a traveling event that stays in its host city for 3 years. The intention is to seed a local festival as it goes. Six years ago, it landed in Greensboro, NC. I was already working weekends and didn’t know I needed to take time off. We went on Friday evening and fell in love with the event. I take the weekend after Labor Day off every year, now.
This year, the pandemic has caused the North Carolina Folk Festival to be virtual. And they are doing it with panache. There are going to be virtual. This is unfortunate for the food truck vendors and the local artisans who populate the Marketplace. But, it means a few of the musicians still get heard. With air conditioning.
The festival is nominally free. They do ask for donations to help cover what sponsors haven’t and the easiest way to avoid being asked multiple times is to go ahead and cough up. They give you a sticker that says you donated and after than you’re left alone until the next day. I give gladly because I want it to keep happening and I like that everyone can come, even when they’re broke. Those of us that can, should.
The music is a little bit of everything from all over the world. Africa, Mongolia, Canada, Ireland, Louisiana, Memphis, the list goes on. Some has been wonderful. Some has been for other people. I love that there are so many choices.
https://ncfolkfestival.com/splendid-isolation-fiddle-tunes-from-ireland-scotland-and-north-america/
We decided to take down the raised beds. We were both frustrated by the ongoing battle against the Trees of Heaven that kept growing up through everything. Chuck had put serious effort into getting the roots out of 2 or 3 of the beds last year. And it helped. But, it wasn’t a cure. And the asparagus couldn’t win.
So, Chuck sold the cinder blocks and we’re letting the grass grow in. Of course, this has been THE best year for the asparagus.
He put 2 100-gallon watering troughs in the part of the hazelnut ring where the bushes don’t grow, filled them with compost and planted salad in one and tomatoes in the other. The tomato varieties are ‘Cherokee Purple’, ‘Rutgers’ and ‘Golden (something)’. The yellow ones are cherry sized and ‘Rutgers’ is supposed to be sandwich sized.
I got another watering trough and transplanted the asparagus. Wrong time of year. I know. But, the cinder blocks were gone and the roots were exposed all around the edges. And they aren’t dead. There were even 4 edible stalks last week. So, I remain hopeful.
I’m late to post. So, the salad is already done and there is Candy Roaster winter squash in that trough, now.
My first peach is putting out fruit prolifically this year. But the Damson plum next to it is dying and we have no clue why.
I have had a dry cough for a couple of months. No other symptoms. Saturday it got worse and I has become worrying to Chuck. Saturday evening, at work, it finally occurred to me that I have had this before. A time when someone’s cologne set off a coughing fit. It’s acid reflux irritating my larynx.
I always take my stress out on my stomach, even when my head doesn’t feel stressed yet. And between fretting about my offspring, the pandemic in general, my mother and my child during the pandemic, coworkers troubles because of the pandemic and an unasked for promotion at work…. DUH. Hello stomach acid.
Fortunately, during the last go-round, I learned that I can treat it with dried papaya. Which I keep around. It’s miraculous how quickly it works for me.
Add to that a gallbladder that has decided to develop stones and I’m just in a mood. The stones aren’t horrific. But, a constant ache of varying degrees below my right rib cage has become unpleasant enough that I intend to have the damn thing removed in July.
And a crown has cracked causing a toothache that is going to be addressed tomorrow.
2020 sucks.
I am the Audience 