Live and learn (3)

 

Live and learn (3)

                                            Tawa 

                                    Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons 

 Two words this week, both relating to New Zealand.

Tawa (Beilschmiedia tawa) is a tall evergreen tree in the laurel family. It bears sprays of pale green flowers which develop large, purple fruits resembling damsons or plums. 

Tawa fruit 

Image source

The fruit can be eaten, but is said to taste of turpentine! The stones, or kernels, can be roasted for food, and the bark used to produce a drink.

The timber is widely used for furniture and flooring.

Tawa 
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons 

Tawa is also the South Asian name for a large, flat, circular griddle, used to cook chapattis and other flatbreads, and for frying meat, or paneer (often called ‘Indian cottage cheese’)

Weta 
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons 

The second word is weta. Weta is a large, flightless brown insect in a group of about one hundred species in the grasshopper family. It is mainly nocturnal and omnivorous, often scavenging, though the giant and tree weta feed on lichens, leaves and fruit.   

It is native to New Zealand, and has few natural predators but has fallen foul of introduced mammals. Consequently, some weta species are now considered critically endangered.

Black arm bands

 

Black arm bands

Queen Victoria 1819-1901

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

When Queen Victoria’s beloved husband, Prince Albert, died in 1861, she dictated that her servants should wear black arm bands for eight years.  She went into deep mourning for forty years, wearing no other colour than black, though in the latter years with touches of white.

However, black was a traditional mourning colour in Ancient Rome (753BC – 476 AD), though the dark-coloured toga, or toga pulla, may have been any dark colour. In any case, it would have been a strong contrast to normal clothing, and an outward sign of mourning, worn to honour the dead. The mourning period of nine days ended with a feast.

The wearing of dark clothing to show sorrow and respect became an accepted tradition in Europe. For those who could not afford a complete set of dark clothes for a period of mourning, a black arm band was acceptable. It was usually worn on the left upper arm, closest to the heart.

Although Queen Victoria wore widow’s weeds for the rest of her life, she requested that her funeral should be white. Her body was dressed in her white wedding gown and veil, and her coffin was covered with a gold-embroidered white satin pall and was drawn by white horses. She also asked that the usual black drapes should be replaced with purple, a symbol both of mourning and imperial rank.

The majority of the crowd watching the procession wore black.

Though it is still customary for people to wear dark clothing at funerals, increasingly there are occasions when the family asks that bright colours or certain items should be worn, in celebration of the dead person’s life.

Grey Heron

 

Grey Heron (Ardea cinerea)

This photograph was taken a few years ago, through glass.

 Twice this afternoon, in the space of twenty minutes, a heron has flown down to land on the fence surrounding the pond. There are a couple of small fish in the pond, survivors, who knows how, of the big deportation of a few years ago. We suspect they proved to be tasty morsels for visiting herons, though some may have fallen prey to our local crows.

Herons eat a varied diet, including fish, rodents, amphibians, reptiles, and birds as large as wood pigeons. They have been observed using their yellow dagger-like beaks to stab large rats before drowning them and then swallowing them.

We have seen a couple of rats on the patio recently, so wonder if they are the current attraction for our visiting heron. Normally, rodents are dispatched by one or other of the cats, but it has been wet and chilly lately, so the cats have foresworn the great outdoors for the comfort of a cosy fire, human lap, or large dog.

Herons are such alert and wary birds that it is difficult to photograph them. The slightest movement causes them to take flight on their enormous wings to escape danger. Until I saw a dead heron stretched out on the grass at a friend’s house, I had not fully appreciated the sheer size of them – the largest are a metre tall, with a wingspan of almost two metres.

It passed me by

 

It passed me by

I came across an expression I’ve never heard before; this is not in itself unusual, but, since it’s been in use since the 1970s, I’m surprised not to have encountered it. Perhaps it’s because I’m neither Scottish nor Irish. Maybe some of you are familiar with it and possibly even have used it.

‘Has the cat died?’ or ‘Is your cat deid?’ are Scottish or Irish expressions used to mock someone wearing trousers that are too short, that is, well above the ankle.

‘Half-mast parallels’ is a phrase which amused me, and is another with which I’m unfamiliar. It refers to short, narrow trousers. Maybe they are considered to be at ‘half-mast,’ like flags that are lowered in mourning.

Another suggestion is that a person might raise their trouser legs to stop mice running up them, because the cats, being ‘deid,’ were not available to dispatch them.

A further explanation is that poor people could not afford to buy black arm bands, which were worn as a sign of mourning, so cut off the ends of old trousers.

Incidentally, when I was growing up, in the Dark Ages, it was not uncommon to see people, usually men, wearing black arm bands. The last time I saw anyone wearing them was at the late Queen’s funeral, when many of the attendant participants wore black bands on their left arms.  

It’s summer time!

 

It’s summer time!

I

Ice-cream van by the River Ouse, York

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

 I know it must be because I’ve just heard an ice-cream van chiming its melodious siren song.

I’m amazed that ice-cream van owners and drivers still exist. Anyone can buy ice lollies and ice-cream at shopping outlets large or small, and yet, every year, like returning swallows and chiffchaffs, out trundle the clunky-looking vans, with their improbable names.

Sir Whippy, Mr Softee, and others are heard long before they appear. Do children still urge their parents to let them rush to the van with coins in their hot, little hands to buy a Flake or a Nobbly Bobbly, or even a slightly dull ice lolly?

Have parents become canny enough to trick their children? Do they tell them the jingle only plays when the van is empty of ice-cream confections? Perhaps they say it’s a warning to steer clear of strangers.

Ice-cream trucks are often hired for events like school fêtes, sporting events, children’s parties, wedding receptions. I wonder, though, how much demand there is ‘out of season.’

Ice-cream tricycles or bicycles are less commonly seen, but for someone wanting to set up in business, they can be an affordable option, starting at around £2,000. A second-hand van, properly equipped, will cost around £40,000 and a new one easily £20,000 more.

Underneath the arches, again

 

Underneath the arches, again

We have a winding path with three arches in our back garden. The original metal arches were replaced a few years ago. Two years ago, the third arch, furthest from the house, collapsed under the weight of evergreen climbers. We, or rather, Barry, replaced it.

Yesterday, there was an ominous crack as Barry attempted to straighten the sagging arch nearest the house and it slumped even further sideways. It hadn’t damaged the fence round the pond, fortunately, but it was beyond repair, so this morning it was removed. This wasn’t a task quickly accomplished, as the arch was supporting, or rather being supported by, a long-established rose, a vigorous evergreen honeysuckle and jasmine. The plants had to be stripped out first. They have been reduced to ground level and if they grow again, and they probably will, we shall keep them as shrubs if we can, which will be easier to control.

There was a robin singing extravagantly loudly as we worked, which was a delight. In the course of the work, we came across an empty bird’s nest. Any birds planning to use it again this spring will be sadly disappointed.

There is now a huge pile of branches waiting to be graunched into mulch. Over the years, our ground level has risen considerably, as we have added layers of mulch around the trees and shrubs.

Suddenly, the garden looks much bigger. Maybe we will reconsider the remaining arches and whether they, too, should be demolished. It would make garden maintenance easier and more straightforward, though possibly less interesting to the eye.

A note from Jellicoe

 

A note from Jellicoe

Hello everyone. Thank you so much for all your good wishes - you’re truly kind. I feel as though I’ve got friends all over the world.

I have had an interesting couple of weeks. I’ve met some really nice vets and nurses who made a great fuss of me, even though they shaved off so much of my fur and sliced lumps out of me.

I spent a few nights away from home, which was strange, and quite lonely, because I’m used to cuddling up with the dogs and The THINKER and The MAID. I wasn’t feeling very well, though, so it was as well that I was sleeping on my own in a nice secure kennel. I even had to spend some time in an oxygen tent because I was having difficulty breathing, and everyone was worried about me.

Soon, I was well enough to go home, but I couldn’t see out of my eye- the one below where the lump and the lymph node were taken out – as it was very swollen. I really looked a terrible mess. The THINKER and the MAID took photographs of me, but they haven’t shown them to anyone because they’re not nice. 

I had a tube in my neck, which seemed odd. I had to have that because the nice vets had taken some tissue from my mouth to build up my eye-lid, so my mouth was sore. I was wearing a soft collar round my neck to keep the tube in place, and a collar of shame to stop me scratching and licking where I shouldn’t. The THINKER and the MAID had to feed me through the tube, and it took forever, especially the first time.

After a few days, I went back to the hospital to have the tube removed. The nice vets and nurses were very pleased with me. It was so good to be able to eat properly again. I had lost quite a lot of weight, so I had to and see Selene-the-Vet. She was rather shocked when she saw me as I wasn’t my usual handsome self. My glucose curve had to be checked and now I’m back to my normal insulin dose.

I still don’t look very lovely, but the swellings are all going down and I can see out of my eye now. I look more like a cat than a battered old football, and my fur is growing back quickly. Next week I have to go back to have my stitches out.

The MAID and The THINKER discussed whether they had done the right thing in letting me have an operation, but agreed that the alternative, of letting the cancer take its course, would have been far worse. They took the advice of Selene-the-Vet first of all, and then the recommendation of the nice vets at the hospital.

I’m just glad to be home, where I belong.

(The MAID speaks: you can learn more about why we’re called The MAID and The THINKER in this blog post.)