The other day I mentioned that I was thinking about some changes to this blog. Well, I guess I got carried away.
This is the last post at mister anchovy's
I hope you all come on over and visit me at my new digs, 27th Street. It's not far, and there's some comfy chairs over there, and I've brought my accordions, and the dog and my fly rods. I might even pour you a little dram of scotch. We're having wild mushroom soup for dinner. Will you stay?
Please take a minute and update your links. See you over there.
Mister Anchovy's isn't going anywhere, so if you need to check out any of the old posts, you know where to find them.
Nature is so rich and we see so little. If I were out collecting mushrooms on my own, there is no way I could hope to find this variety. But 15 sets of eyes, 15 brains, and look what we find in just two hours. And these pictures show just a few samples.
There was so much information to take in, by the time the ID session was 3/4 through, my brain was full. No more please. But there were many more. I learned plenty, but if tomorrow or next week I can identify five or six more mushrooms than I could before I'll have done well.
Not only is the mushroom kingdom remarkably diverse, a good deal of it has hardly been studied. That is a lot to wrap one's brain around.
The mushroom ID class I'm taking enjoyed a field trip today to a forest north of the city. There were about 15 of us and we wandered the forest, foraging for mushrooms for about two hours. After a lunch break, we spread our finds out on some big tables for identification. There were about 60 different species, from honey mushrooms and aborted entolomas to stinkhorns and puffballs and waxy caps and polypores. The diversity of the forest is stunning to me.
I'm off to a field trip with my mushroom identification class. I'll be back later, but I'll leave you with a swinging little musical interlude called Making Love after Hours, by Rahsaan Roland Kirk, from way back in 1967.
...with this blog I mean. I'm not quite sure just what's going to change, though. I know some people have trouble with Blogger comments, and I'd like to fix whatever that problem is. I see my friend WC has converted to a WordPress format and I must say it looks pretty spiffy. Along the way, I've enjoyed changing up the look of this place from time to time, so maybe I'll try a new format or a new host. We'll see.
A while ago, I had an idea of turning my blog into a neighbourhood with a number of posters, but that didn't really spark the way I had hoped. Maybe one day I'll try that again, when the time is right (whatever that means).
I'm thinking about doing more writing here, but it isn't clear in my imagination yet just what I mean by that. I've often thought about my blog as being similar to a painting or a piece of music. It has texture, rhythm or cadence, colour, it can have narrative or not, be fact or fiction. Over the years, it seems to have developed a feel I'm comfortable with. Maybe I don't want it to be quite so comfortable. I've even considered changing the name of the joint. Har!
Anyway, before I go and mess with things, let me know if you have any requests (yes I know you want more accordion videos, stop asking), complaints, suggestions and so on. I'm not promising I'll listen to you, but then again I just might.
I bought a safety vest. I did this after my brother the trout, Salvelinas Fontinalis, sent me an email about the upcoming turkey season. By the time I finished reading his missive, I was imagining turkey hunters behind every tree firing away at me and Memphis as we stumbled through the woods in search of tasty edible mushrooms.
When I started foraging for mushrooms, I hadn't considered hunters, but no doubt we frequent the same forests and at the same time too. I know most hunters are very careful about what they shoot, but now and then some guy gets mistaken for a deer somewhere or another and gets blasted.
My brother suggested that a vocal warning accompany bright clothing. He uses "Yo Bob!" which he periodically shouts in the woods, suggesting that not only is here there, but maybe somebody else is in there too, so better becareful.
Suddenly it's cold and windy with just enough rain so you know it's there. I was out in the park with Memphis and her buddies, and we were unprepared for the chill in the air and the persistence of the wind. I looked up and saw a plane heading north to the airport through rain and clouds, and another, and another. We hardly ever see planes flying in north.
Memphis loves the cooler weather. She feels good and frisky and she wants to run and play and wrestle and even chase a ball or two. The owners of the short-haired dogs are talking about clothing for their dogs. Don't they already have a fur coat, I ask? Memphis is made for the cold.
As I expected, the Ultrasound and X-rays they did on my knee didn't tell us what we need to know, namely, what's going on in there and why is it causing me grief. The doc requisitioned an MRI, and I'll have to wait for that, maybe 6 weeks.
I've posted this next one before...it's Dewey Balfa
I don't know exactly why it is, but I find fiddlesticks to be a really moving musical experience, like you're witnessing something from the distant past, something secret and special and exotic.
Toronto Mayor David Miller announced this morning that he will not run next year. He says he wants to spend more time with his family. Good reason!
This is going to open up the mayoralty race next year. The political landscape has just changed radically with the incumbent out of the picture. I'm betting we'll see George Smitherman and John Tory in the race, and I wouldn't be surprised to see someone from Miller's inner circle step up to represent the left.
I'd like to see some change at City Hall. There are a number of councillors who I think have over-stayed their welcome as well.
I'm most interested in watching how events unfold in the coming months as the various politicians position themselves for a 2010 election.
