Things that tickle in the woods
So avid readers of this space may have noticed that I have been somewhat tardy in posting and responding to direct attempts at communication. This was due to my excursion sunday night to upstate MN where I worked in the Chippewa National Forest. It was really quite splendid hanging out in the pine forest all day and doing a seedling census. Was all mindless manual labour for the most part but I enjoyed it very much. I even managed to have one or two interesting things happen to me up there. I was running after our first full day of work, during which we had spotted two bald eagles flying, and I noticed ahead in the woods that two eagles crossed paths as they took off into the air. I ran in that direction and watched an eagle soar above me for a time and then I heard a noise. Turning around I saw the following; a bald eagle fly by at eye level about 10 yards away from me. Followed by an even larger bird, which I believe was a golden eagle, followed by a bald eagle, follwed by another golden eagle, followed by a third bald eagle. It was amazing watching birds that large fly that close. The final tally of eagles seen so far for those keeping track at home is bald eagles 9, golden eagles(?) 2. I even saw a large feather close by although I can't be positive that it belonged to either eagle species.
So while the work was enjoyable and the avian wildlife was stunning, there was a small winkle in this idyllic locale in the north woods. Ticks, mainly wood ticks, but the occasional deer tick that is the transmitter of lyme disease. I found much fewer on me then some other people did, and took a lot of precautions, but its amazing how you can find them on your clothes even after being out of the woods for an hour. So I did a lot of tick checks when I wasn't looking at the sky or saplings. Its funny, after a while you think that every little prickle of the skin might be a tick, so you check, and then you realize it was just a ghost tick. Well hopefully I don't come down with lyme disease, though I think I'll be ok, i never saw a deer tick on me and was pretty careful about checking routinely through the day.
So the last thing in the woods doesn't really tickle, but on wednesday it rained all day. It alternated between a steady drizzle and some serious water fall and we worked about 7 hours outside in it. I had my full set of raingear but by the end I was basically wet through and through anyway. It felt like I was swimming in my rainjacket. Actually it was odd, I didn't feel wet persay so much as incredibly damp, there's a fine distinction there apparently, or at least for me.
In gastronomical news there have been some recent developments. I found and consumed some morel mushrooms while at Chippewa. They were good, I don't think that they were earth shatteringly good, but then again the two times I had them I slightly undercooked the first one, and someone else overcooked the second. Unfortunately, this fell one short of a goldilockian experience, and the just right morel remains untried and my fungal fascination, unfulfilled. This morning I attempted to make some buttermilk pancakes, and while I executed the recipe expertly in the past with a hangover and at the slight expense of two fuses, this morning they wound up rather insipid. I made the amateur error of forgetting the salt until I had already combined the dry and the wet. When I added the salt to that and stirred it in, I crossed the divide between a mixed and an over mixed batter. Properly seasoned but texturely, a disappointment, however I now have flatjacks that I'll be able to be consume all weekend which I suppose is good.
So of the numerous people that are living here now there is one who shares a slight but interesting quirk in his surname with myself. That's right, Joe Little has met Sean Small. We only need a martin short, tommy midget, or a dorris diminutive and then the triad of weeness will be complete.
So while the work was enjoyable and the avian wildlife was stunning, there was a small winkle in this idyllic locale in the north woods. Ticks, mainly wood ticks, but the occasional deer tick that is the transmitter of lyme disease. I found much fewer on me then some other people did, and took a lot of precautions, but its amazing how you can find them on your clothes even after being out of the woods for an hour. So I did a lot of tick checks when I wasn't looking at the sky or saplings. Its funny, after a while you think that every little prickle of the skin might be a tick, so you check, and then you realize it was just a ghost tick. Well hopefully I don't come down with lyme disease, though I think I'll be ok, i never saw a deer tick on me and was pretty careful about checking routinely through the day.
So the last thing in the woods doesn't really tickle, but on wednesday it rained all day. It alternated between a steady drizzle and some serious water fall and we worked about 7 hours outside in it. I had my full set of raingear but by the end I was basically wet through and through anyway. It felt like I was swimming in my rainjacket. Actually it was odd, I didn't feel wet persay so much as incredibly damp, there's a fine distinction there apparently, or at least for me.
In gastronomical news there have been some recent developments. I found and consumed some morel mushrooms while at Chippewa. They were good, I don't think that they were earth shatteringly good, but then again the two times I had them I slightly undercooked the first one, and someone else overcooked the second. Unfortunately, this fell one short of a goldilockian experience, and the just right morel remains untried and my fungal fascination, unfulfilled. This morning I attempted to make some buttermilk pancakes, and while I executed the recipe expertly in the past with a hangover and at the slight expense of two fuses, this morning they wound up rather insipid. I made the amateur error of forgetting the salt until I had already combined the dry and the wet. When I added the salt to that and stirred it in, I crossed the divide between a mixed and an over mixed batter. Properly seasoned but texturely, a disappointment, however I now have flatjacks that I'll be able to be consume all weekend which I suppose is good.
So of the numerous people that are living here now there is one who shares a slight but interesting quirk in his surname with myself. That's right, Joe Little has met Sean Small. We only need a martin short, tommy midget, or a dorris diminutive and then the triad of weeness will be complete.
posted by Joe Little at 10:04 PM
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