This Is a Blog Post About News Websites

I don't usually do this simple passing-on-of-the-link, but I had to share.

Someone just sent me this link to a non-article about science writing, and it makes me laugh. It's hard to explain why it's so funny, but if you read as many website science articles that sum up what someone else said about the science, you'll probably think it's funny too. Especially as the Guardian themselves are known to write articles almost exactly like this...

It's A Yawn, It's A Sneer

No, it's the Flehmen Response.


Have you ever wondered why your horse or your cat gives that "gurning" face after smelling something intensely? I did; I thought it was something in the smell that made my cat react that way, as if she didn't like it -- except she kept going back to it again. It seemed like she was a glutton for punishment.


Now I find it wasn't that at all: she was exhibiting the Flehmen Response, a way of smelling that does not involve the nose.


What it does involve is an organ inside the roof of the mouth called the vomeronasal organ, otherwise known as the Jacobson's organ. The "gurning" face (or, in the case of goats and horses, the weird lip-lifting) is actually a way of getting air to circulate inside the mouth so that the vomeronasal organ can pick up molecules of the scent in question. It helps the animal see what kind of scent it is, really, and gives them more information about the source of the scent.

Generally, the scents that cause this kind of interest are things that contain pheremones or other compounds that tell the animal about other animals, either of their own species or, in the case of cats, those of prey. Curiously, it is believed to be the basis of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.


"Flehming allows the animals to determine several factors, including the presence or absence of estrus, the physiological state of the animal, and how long ago the animal passed by. This particular response is recognizable, for example, in stallions when smelling the urine of a mare in heat." [wiki]

This is a small fact, something you can bring out in odd moments to impress your friends; but as an activity it rarely fails in comic charm. Here is a video of a pony with the Flehmen Response in action:



Lastly, I'm not certain the video below is a flehmen response (if so it's a very lively one), but it is pretty funny.



You can also type "Flehmen Response" into Google Images and see what you get: a veritable rogue's gallery of weird facial tics.

Summer In Winter

It's blackberry season.

Also peach season, and apricot season, and many other kinds of fruit I love beyond reason.

In the winter, we collect, freeze and dry mushrooms to eat when the mushroom season has passed, so we can enjoy those flavors even when they are barely available in the fancy supermarkets for $40 a pound. We got 20 pounds of morels this year, and innumerable black trumpets. But in the summer, it's fruit. Boxes of it, bags of it: we gorge, and are content.

However, like the mushrooms I'm always trying to save that fruit for the winter months, when the flavor of blackberries or peaches can give you a moment of summer in the midst of the cold. Most years I make preserves of one sort or another. I've made strawberry jam and olallieberry jam, apple and pear butter, canned olallieberries and canned pears... yum.

The problem is, I'm almost the only one who eats it, so it sits there, fruit from summer waiting to be eaten when the fresh fruit is gone - waiting and waiting. It makes me sad. We do eat the canned olallieberries over ice cream (extra yum!)... but this year I decided to forget jam and go alcoholic.


Too much jam.

I remember when I was a kid, my parents went through a phase of making what they called "civil war nectar:" fruit in a big glass jar with sugar and something else, which fermented and produced a small amount of alcohol, which they ate over ice cream or cake. I've tried many times to get a recipe for that, but only yesterday found one:

1 part brandy
1 part fruit
1 part sugar
Leave it in a covered jar for a week before using.
Every time you use it, replace what you've taken with equal parts sugar and whatever fruit is in season.
Refrigerate in between uses if you are not using for more than a few days.
The place I found the recipe says: "Great on ice cream, pound cake, and such, but it does get very sneaky strong."

In my journeys through the internet looking for this recipe, I came instead across what seems to be a different approach to the same thing. Rumtopf ("rum pot"), also known as "tutti frutti" (all fruits, and yes, apparently that's where the name comes from) is a very old way of preserving summer flavors into the winter, from a time when alcohol was one of the only ways of preserving fruit:

"A tutti-frutti is started at the beginning of the summer, with fruits added to the mixture as they come into season. The last addition is usually made in September at the end of peach season. The trick to a successful tutti-frutti with brandy or a rumtopf with rum is to use an eclectic mixture of summer fruits, creating a blend of flavors. After the last addition, the entire mixture is set aside to mellow and age for several months. Of course, you can begin sampling the tutti-frutti/rumtopf whenever you like, but in Germany, it is not sampled until December on the first evening of advent. After that, it is fully consumed throughout the Christmas holidays. The spirited fruit is served over ice cream, pound cake, bread pudding and many other desserts. The sweet, fruity liquid can be enjoyed as an after dinner liqueur or mixed into cocktails."
(Thanks to Theresa Loe)

You find a ceramic or glass jar, about a gallon in size, with a tight-fitting lid. If you don't have a lid, or if the lid doesn't fit tightly, you can supplement with plastic wrap and a rubber band. You can also put a dish inside to hold the fruit down under the alcohol.

"Strawberries, cherries, raspberries, peaches, apricots, pineapple, nectarines, red currents and plums all work well. Do not use watermelon or cantaloupe (too watery), blackberries (too seedy), bananas (too soft) or citrus (too acidic). Some people avoid dark fruits like blueberries because they will discolor the lighter fruits in the mixture..."


I actually did use blackberries, because I like their flavor, and some people do the same with blueberries. I have also heard you should not use apples or pears, because they don't have sufficient body and get all mushy. The other thing I found is that having a cylindrical jar works better with the holding-down dish, which unfortunately allows fruit to escape around the edges if you use a round jar like I have.

What thrills me about this dish is the wonderful fragrance, a summery smell that comes wafting out whenever I open the lid. I smell it, and I think about the layers of fruit inside, and how when Christmastime comes we'll appreciate that injection of lost sunshine into our lives. It's like a little pot of treasure in my pantry, waiting for me to add more anytime I get some good fruit. At some point, I will try the Civil War Nectar, but for the moment I'm looking forward to that first taste of the Rumtopf in December.


Now, the other thing I made this year, which turned out extraordinary, was Creme de Mûre, a key ingredient in one version of the French cocktail known as Kir. We learned to love this drink during the ten years our family owned an old mill in France, where we would go and stay on the river and eat French food and generally enjoy the beauty of Bourgogne (Burgundy), where the house was situated. Traditionally, kir is made with Creme de Cassis (blackcurrant), topped up with white wine from Bourgogne. It's drunk as an aperitif, before food or a snack.

"Originally called blanc-cassis, the drink is now named after Félix Kir (1876 - 1968), mayor of Dijon in Burgundy, who as a pioneer of the twinning movement in the aftermath of the Second World War popularized the drink by offering it at receptions to visiting delegations. Besides treating his international guests well, he was also promoting two vital economic products of the region." [wiki]

If the rumtopf has a wonderful scent, this one is simply godlike. I find the flavor is rich and redolent of that peculiarly spicy blackberry scent, the smell of English summers and of scratched hands, sunshine and delicious forage, stained lips and that cautious, arched straining one does to get hold of a good cluster that's just out of reach. There is nothing like the smell of good blackberries, and now by making it I've actually managed to capture that smell in a bottle. It, too, has to age for three months, so I'm really looking forward to this winter, more than any winter full of jam.


Recipe for Creme de Mûre:

500 grams of blackberries
500 ml eau de vie (I used vodka - 80 proof)
250 ml water
350 grams sugar

Crush the berries and put them in the alcohol for 24 hours (cover it well).
Then strain out the fruit and put the fruit in the water for 24 hours.
Strain again, putting the fruit in the compost or feeding to your chickens.
Add the sugar to the blackberry-water, and heat until just warm enough to dissolve the sugar.
Now mix the sugar/blackberry mixture with the alcohol. Filter it through three or four layers of cheesecloth (or a thin, open weave dishtowel -- too tightly woven and it will clog), and put in bottles.
You can drink it at this point (yum), but it's apparently better if you let it age.

When my children were little, we used to read a book called Frederick, by Leo Lionni, about a mouse-poet who didn't help collect seeds and things during the summer. When the other mice complained, he said he was collecting smells and colors. Then when winter came, he was able to warm them with his words, which brought back the sights and feelings of summer in the middle of winter. I always liked this book, because it's about the things a writer wants to capture, and about bringing bits of the soft season into times that are hard and cold.

These dishes remind me of Frederick, holding tight to that fragrance and color from the season when fruit was really and truly ripe and giving it back to us again when we need it most.

So enjoy! And may your winter be full of the poetry of fruit...

Rural Old New York

Janice McIntire just sent me a link to a New York Times article about a man who has spent 30 years turning his 1-bedroom Manhattan apartment into a rustic cabin á la Abe Lincoln. Check out the amazing interactive tour, which allows you to see a panorama of both his living room and his kitchen. I took a couple of screen shots just to give you a taste (check out the computer in the kitchen, and don't forget you can look at the ceiling and floor).

The things one can do if one has enough time! Who says Steampunk is a recent development? It's been in the works a long time.


Thanks, Janice! (via Bettershelter)

Leafcutter Designs: Large Concepts in Small Packages

Trade tokens: the best kind of friendly economy

I've been receiving notices from Leafcutter Designs for a long time, but recently went back to visit (finally), and was blown away by the creativity and joy in its wonderful pages. It's interesting, because it combines conceptual art and actual goods and services for sale. Really, a perfect example of someone getting creative in their work, and making art pay.

Lea Redmond is the driving force behind it, and runs it like the tiny business it is. The welcome says, "we live upstairs on top of this online shop and you can holler up to our kitchen window where a pie is sitting on the windowsill."

The items for sale started as small things she made for friends and family which became so popular that, as the website says, "we decided to make a bigger batch." The ideas are all ecologically sound, everything they present seems to have both a micro and macro emphasis (in other words, using tiny things to emphasize and talk about larger concepts), and every one of them is made or thought up with the idea of joy in mind - not the sale of joy, but actual joy, the kind where you do good things for other people and have fun doing it, or the kind where you simply get curious, get playful, and enjoy the basic physical wonders of living. Which is the main reason why I like them.

For example, she has created a series of conceptual knitting patterns. I like the sky scarf, where you buy a bunch of yarn in all the colors the sky could possibly be and then knit two lines of whichever color matches the sky every day. After a year you have a record of the sky - and a scarf!

Another favorite is the BART scarf, based on a local train system, the Bay Area Rapid Transit, in which you get yarns the color of the different BART lines and knit in that color whenever you are traveling on that line. Whenever you change lines, you change colors.

Other wonderful services and items are such as these:


- Earrings for Spontaneous Seeding: "You never know when an opportunity for planting might present itself." Refillable, of course.


- Recipe dice: Roll these to decide what ingredients to use in dinner. They are 5/8" across and "feature seasonal vegetables (different dice for each season), grains, meats, spices, herbs, and a few additional ingredients like lemon, ginger, and hot chiles."


- Wiggly Eye Dice: wooden dice with wiggly eyes for dots. Weird and fun.


- The World's Smallest Postal Service, which began as a tiny post office which Ms. Redmond set up in cafes and other places. If you gave her a letter, she would transcribe it "on a miniature desk in the tiniest of script, sealed with a miniscule wax seal with the sender's intial pressed into it, packaged up with a magnifying glass in a glassine envelope, and finished off with a large wax seal." Nowadays you can order the letters online (though they are no longer hand-written), and she has a variety of timely variations, such as Mother's Day cards. Imagine receiving a letter smaller than a quarter in the mail! Magical. Good for Tooth Fairies and other small creatures, as well.


You can also find out about the history of flour sack clothes, undergo creative courtship consulting (or tell stories of your own in the Project section), get poetry ribbon, and many other things. The Project section is full of broadcast-style art pieces where you can submit your own electronic postage stamp design, send her artifacts for the Game of Infinite Possibilities, make a rolodex card of something you love or think about for her rolodex machine, and several other participation-based fun art activities.

You can read Ms. Redmond's blog here.

The portable version of the Game of Infinite Possibilities

The Languages of Tone and Rhythm

I've always been a sucker for a good boatswain's call.

Oh, I don't mean that silly "Wee-ee-ee" you hear in Star Trek when there is a change of status; I mean the wonderful silver and copper device which was used to issue orders that could be heard above noise and weather.


There were any number of calls used to communicate different things, made by opening and closing the hand over the buoy to make the note lower or higher. Besides plain whistling, there were warbles (made by blowing jerkily) and trills (made by rolling an "r" while blowing); by blowing patterns of high and low notes of varying style, most anything that needed to be communicated on shipboard could be said.


Using flutes, whistles, and drums to communicate is a very old idea. Ancient Greek and Roman ships used flutes to help the rowers keep in step, and the boatswain's call (or bosun's whistle) has been around since at least the 1300s. Not only that, there are numerous whistling languages traditional among mountain peoples, where visual contact can be made over great distances, but the voice is difficult to discern (the exception being, of course, yodeling, which is yet another language). Some places that have developed whistling languages are Nepal, Mexico, Greece, New Guinea and the Canary Islands.

Similarly there are also drum languages, used once again to be heard over long distances (though visual connection seems to be less important here). In Africa, drum languages are so common that they are a standard and almost casual auxiliary mode of communication. In Cameroon, for example, the dogs are actually trained to recognize their names when they are drummed - which, if you think about it, isn't much different than sheepdogs recognizing their personal whistles.

Master-drummer Michel Wanga, Ippy, June 1973

There are a number of ways in which whistling or drumming can work. In some cases, they are direct transmissions of how the spoken language actually sounds. For example, the Sizang people (of Chin State, Burma) have a tonal language, so their whistled language uses an abridgement system - in other words, it drops all aspects of the language but one basic element - to mimic the tones (and then relies on context for the rest). Some languages translate the message into code - like Morse Code, for example, which bears no relation to the actual spoken message but relies on the alphabet to get a more specific kind of message across. Others use a translation system, for example, the Duala (Africa) translate their messages into such archaic synonyms that they are essentially encoding it, because the synonyms have ceased to be used in spoken language, being only retained in their drumming.

There's something about this idea, though, that is intriguing. How many of us loved the idea of a secret language when we were kids, something our friends could understand and no one else could? How many of us dreamed about smoke signals, and were fascinated by the stories of identical twins who had developed their own language which they only used with each other? There is something about the idea of being able to change forms, from words to beats or whistles, that takes this idea one step further - because you are not only speaking a language other people can't understand, you are doing it without looking like you are communicating at all. Imagine sitting in class tapping your pencil on your desk. Your teacher thinks you are simply twitchy, but in reality you are passing notes - while looking innocent and attentive.

Look at this passage from Mazateco Whistle Speech, by George M. Cowan:

"Eusebio Martinez was observed one day standing in front of his hut, whistling to a man a considerable distance away. The man was passing on the trail below, going to market to sell a load of corn leaves which he was carrying. The man answered Eusebio's whistle with a whistle. The interechange was repeated several times with different whistles. Finally the man turned around, retraced his steps a short way and came up the footpath to Eusebio's hut. Without saying a word he dumped his load on the ground. Eusebio looked the load over, went into his hut, returned with some money, and paid the man his price. The man turned and left. Not a word had been spoken. The had talked, bargained over the price, and come to an agreement satisfactory to both parties - using only whistles as a medium of communication."


In the Canary Islands, there is a shepherd's whistling language known as Silbo Gomero, or Silbo, which was extremely old (pre-Spanish) and nearly lost by the end of the 20th century. However, the Gomeran government made it mandatory for children to learn Silba in school, and it's making a comeback. There has been a lot of interest in it, even to the point of scientists doing brain scans of Silbadors (speakers of Silba) and finding that when they heard Silba their brains reacted as if they were listening to a language, as opposed to non-Silbadors, who merely responded as if they were hearing whistling. This seems a little pointless to me, since people use it to pass on fairly complex messages, despite its apparent simplicity, so it must be processed like language.

It's interesting, the question of "what is language?" Of course, if you ask different people you'll get different responses. People who study the philosophy of language tend to stroke their chins and discuss things like "What is meaning?" and "How can meaning ever really be known?" - which doesn't really answer any questions - while semioticians (who study signs, symbols, and communication) differ from linguists in that they are willing to include things other than words in their definition of language - in other words, "Semiotics differs from linguistics in that it generalizes the definition of a sign to encompass signs in any medium or sensory mode.. it... extends the definition of language in what amounts to its widest analogical or metaphorical sense." [wiki] In other words, they believe that language can exist in any number of situations and ways of expression. The language of clothes, the language of TV, the language of gestures.

Which, if you think about it, extends language into all the spheres of our thinking. We are constantly telling each other something, either through a glance, or how we hold our arms; what choose to dress that day, or whether we kiss our sweethearts goodbye. it is all communication.

I remember when I was teaching English in Japan, I used to terrify my students with the following lesson:

"Is THIS your umbrella?"
"Is this YOUR umbrella?"
"Is this your UMBRELLA?"

All of which, of course, have entirely different connotations, as they imply completely different choices that you are questioning. The first one asks which umbrella, the second asks whose umbrella, and the third, well, that one can't seem to believe it's really an umbrella at all.

So it might actually be tempting to step outside the regular context of "language" as we know it and find some simpler mode of communication. I love talking on the telephone, because I don't have to pay attention to subtle physical cues (either mine or theirs) and can rely entirely on voice timbre. I am charming on the phone, and awkward in person, because I am constantly distracted by the matter of body language: did they hear that last part? Are they bored? Did I just make them angry? ...The telephone is just so much simpler - I can funnel all that energy into my voice, and it makes me focused and comfortable.

The modern equivalent of drumming/whistling/etc. is, of course, the text message, either IM or by mobile phone. Whole languages have risen that are completely endemic to the digital environment. When older people moan that young people are being ruined by all this terrible spelling, I reply, "Not at all; they are simply learning another language." Like whistling, drumming, and smoke signals, IM and text messages use code, abridgement, phrases, and even sometimes direct transmission to get the message over a long distance. Nothing new there.

Andes, Venezuela: "at six o clock in the morning the fog was crawling over the mountains and i heard the whistle language of farmers in the valley (like you can hear on la gomera, canary islands) " (Thanks to drmidix on Flickr)

Links:

For history and how-to of the Boatswain's call, try this, this, and this. Wikipedia also has an interesting entry on it.

An odd little website on the pursuit of whistling languages (with sound samples).

BBC article on the revival of Silba.

A little page on train whistle language.

Wikipedia article on communicating through drums.

The Western Australian Maritime Museum, where you can buy a replica boatswain's call (can't guarantee the quality, though - try eBay for actual antiques)

Forms of Alternate Communication

The End of Passivity

Gin, Television, and Social Surplus is an article I've been waiting for practically all my life. It's got all the stuff in it that I hate about television, and all the reasons why the television culture may cease to be the ruling class in this world. I like television as much as the next person, but I have a number of very big objections to it. Here they are (you can stop reading now if you don't want a soap-box oratory):

1. A lot of it is stupid.

2. People are trying to sell me stuff the whole time and are counting on me not noticing that they are trying to sell me stuff.

2a. When people are trying to sell me stuff, they are willing to do anything they can to get me to buy it, including working really hard at making me hate myself so their product can be the solution.

2b. The people who want to sell me stuff are also thinking of my children as a commodity to be bought and sold, and have absolutely no compunction about trying to turn three-year-olds into buying machines (or using the whine factor to try to get little ones to turn me into their own personal buying machine). Also, they want to make my daughters feel bad about themselves so they will buy things. Yuck.

3. There is too much of it! I could spend all my life watching it and never be through. It makes it very unsatisfying at times.

4. TV is extremely passive, which is fine when I'm exhausted, but at other times I grow impatient.

That's all I can think of at the moment, but the article above fills me with glee. It also captures the essence of some of the things I love about blogging. I encourage you to go check it out.

Holiday Ponderables

The holidays are eating me alive, but I leave you with these things to wonder about until after the rush:

- North Dakota is becoming one big, beautiful and sad Wunderkammer (to read about it, click on the link at the right). Here is a beautiful book on same, from photographer Steve Fitch.

- The largest diamond ever found was over 3,000 carats. So if you're thinking of buying someone diamonds for Christmas, think on that before you blow your pocketbook (more on this topic after the holidays).

- Give the gift of weirdness: shopdropping at Christmastime.


- Chickens prefer to lay eggs in nests that already have eggs. Thus the age-old use of porcelain/clay/stone eggs, leading to more decorative specimens.

On a less savory note (caution: if squeamish or lacking weird humor, stop here):

- Quotes from a 5-year-old:
"The god of the creek has shorts and a see-through suitcase with swim stuff inside it, just in case the water gets too deep."
"I think your butt-hole is secretly elastic." (This from the author of the Butt Trilogy)

- If you have not heard of the Benny Lava phenomenon, here's your chance, complete with lexicon analysis, plus MySpace page and so on - but it's not funny. No, really.

Okay, that's all the weirdness in my brain at the moment. The rest is steeped in holiday etceteras. I hope you all have an excellent period of excess and twinkling lights.

The Cabinet of Wonders Gift Guide

This is an unusual idea for me, but after looking at Make Magazine's Steampunk Gift Guide (which is pretty great, courtesy of Jake von Slatt of the Steampunk Workshop) I thought I'd come up with a list of my own. If I were to look for some really unusual things for a gift list, these would be but a few:

- Owl's Head: On the Nature of Lost Things or Swift As a Shadow: Extinct and Endangered Species, or particularly Bookworm, all by Rosamund Purcell, the goddess of museum photography. The first of these is a meditation (with, of course, photos) on her relationship with an amazing junk collector and how he influenced her life; the second, photographs of taxidermied animals; and the third, works made by Purcell herself using books that have been destroyed in interesting ways - very reflective of the Picturesque aesthetic, making them look like ancient remains - to reveal astonishing loveliness and interesting truths.

- If you're in London or thereabouts, go visit Get Stuffed, one of my favorite stores. A taxidermical paradise.


- On this same note, Van Dyke is the Wunderkammer of all taxidermy supplies. You can get any kind of eyes, including some that don't exist in the real world (see picture above, custom ordered), as well as animal forms and every kind of chemical, etc. They even have a gift certificate option for that special taxidermist in your life.


- Also in London there is Pollock's Toy Museum, where you can check out the amazing toy exhibits (mostly toy theatres from many different periods). Then, if you're feeling like a good person, you can help help the Museum's Trust by going to Pollock's and buying some of their lovely vintage greeting card reproductions. If I could make a massive neon hand pointing to this entry in the List, I would. Pollock's shop (not to mention the Museum) is one of my favorite places in the world. You can buy some of their most extraordinary collection of reproduction toy theatres (paper cutouts, of the most wonderful variety and complexity) at Benjamin Pollock's Toyshop, another amazing place, whose relationship with the museum is...well, it seems to be complicated(wiki). I do wish that the Museum Trust sold theatres, because they need help, and greeting cards may not be enough.

- On the matter of mechanical gewgaws, the Horology Source's page on How to Make Your Own Clocks and Watches, including kits and plans.

- John Gleave, Orrery maker (hope this website still leads to a real person and is not an artifact).


- The Brass Compass, purveyors of fine brass nautical instruments: compasses, astrolabes, sextants, and so on. Make sure to look through the mind-numbing list of links at the bottom of the page, which will take you places like this theodolite, which you can buy with hardwood case and teak tripod.

- For all things stereoscopic, including stereoscopic cameras and all sorts of vintage (read: 60's 70's and on) stereo/photographic items, check out 3D by Dr. T, a warehouse of everything of this sort, for true enthusiasts - no antiques offered, only modern supplies and devices. But if you ever wanted to make your own stereoscopic pictures, this would be the place to go. They even have how-to books.

- From Jeffrey D. Picka, a professor at the University of New Brunswick in Canada, here is a list of genuinely strange books which is not only interesting to peruse but, if you can find copies of them, might make for really unusual gifts.

The Secrets of Building Electrostatic Lightning Bolt Generators, an eccentric book by an eccentric man who has experimented with many different types of crazy electricity machines, who after writing about his trials and errors (complete with instructions and experiments), encourages you to improve upon them.

- Shelley Jackson's Patchwork Girl is a fascinating hypertext retelling of Mary Shelly's Frankenstein. Here's a description:

"What if Mary Shelley's Frankenstein were true?
What if Mary Shelley herself made the monster -- not the fictional Dr. Frankenstein?
And what if the monster was a woman, and fell in love with Mary Shelley, and travelled to America?
This is their story."

The work has gotten great reviews and sounds unusual and fascinating. I like Ms. Jackson's My Body: A Wunderkammer, a lively, down-to-earth hypertext work wherein clicking on parts of the beautifully-drawn body will get you bits and pieces of stories about her body and its life.

Outposts: A Catalog of Rare And Disturbing Alternative Information. I've heard this is an amazing book from before the Internet really took off, with "sections on drugs, sex, or other bizarre but interesting fringe culture interests." People seem to find it difficult to put down (Disclaimer: I have not read this book and cannot guarantee it would not offend some people).

- This is kind of weird: staples and eyelets to supply those who use, or would like to use, their antique paper-fastening devices.

- You can also go to eBay and type in "reliquary." There are all kinds of fascinating things that come up...


- Lastly, here is a site, entirely in Dutch (I think), showing off Jos de Vink's amazing collection of self-made Stirling hot-air engines, beautiful creations of brass and glass run entirely off small candles. I have no idea if the man is interested in selling these, but if you have enough cash, you could ask. It's worth looking at in any case. You can also see the "Kathedraal" machine, above, on Youtube.

Credos to Live By (#1)

I've been too busy to really follow through on the couple of things I'm researching right now (but I have found some cool stuff!), so I wanted to share this fabulous manifesto, from Bread and Puppet Theatre. We have it hanging on the wall of our living room because it helps remind us what it's really all about. It's up high, so I forget about it and rediscover it on a regular basis. Hurrah!

Odd picture collection

I am going off to another week-long writing conference, so am posting this collection of oddments from my files to help you keep your brains going while I'm gone. I have no idea where any of these came from anymore, but find them oddly intriguing. Bear with me until I get back (on the 7th)! Perhaps if you have any good ideas for captions...?

Elephants swimming

No idea whatever!

Steam carriage (note resemblance to the one in Golden Compass)

"Tubas of Doom", is what my daughter calls these; they are from Japan in the 1930s, that's all I can remember, and I never did find out what they really are.

Well, I know what this is, but I'm not saying.

Slave Pens from the American South; this is an amazing, shocking picture that I've been saving for something meaningful. Speaks volumes about things we don't talk about enough.

Daimler Steam Motorcycle

Crozier head

Train Galley