Peggy's Jibber-Jabber: A Beaver's Life

Although I wrote a letter-blog last week, I didn't print any to mail. My printer has been printing really wonky lately. Some of the lines are perfectly legible then it will print a line that you can barely read. This last time I saw that some of the words faded off into nothingness on the end of those messed up lines. I don't know how long that's been happening since no one has ever said anything to me about it.

"Mike, I can't hardly read this. Here," I said and shoved a couple of pages at him. "You look at it and tell me if it's my eyes or the printer."

"The printer," he verified.

I've had this printer a long time, over three years, and I've used it hard. On a weekly basis, using last week as an example, I printed eight copies of a twelve-page letter — that's ninety-six pages. Multiply that by the number of letters I write in a year — 40 times so far this year — and that's a lot of printing. On top of that, I had this printer when our daughter Kat died. I Didn't Know — Kat's Story was forty-eight printed pages and I have no idea how many copies of that I made. Fifteen? Maybe more.

"Maybe the heads are clogged?" you suggest.

I checked. They're not.

"Maybe they're just out of alignment?"

I wondered that myself. I spent a couple of hours fooling with it last Monday. I did an auto alignment several times and it didn't make any difference. Then I figured out how to manually adjust the heads and after doing that three times, it didn't make a bit of difference either. My conclusion is this: I've just plain worn out the printer.

"Get online an order a new one," Mike told me.

So that's what I did. I expected my new printer next week but Saturday afternoon Fed-Ex pulled into the driveway and handed me a new printer. Yay! I'm back in business. Don't ya just love the internet?

"I can't imagine what you must spend in printer ink," you say.

I know, right! If I had to buy cartridges every time I ran out of ink, I can't imagine what I would spend either. It seems like I run out of ink at least once a month. But since I use refillable cartridges, it isn't so bad.

A Spotted Knapweed flower. These are considered invasive. They have deep taproots that suck up the water before the other plants can get it. It is also thought that the root gives off a toxin that stunts the growth of its neighbors, but not affecting other knapweed. Although animals can eat knapweed, it's a less desirable food source. Now sheep, on the other hand, will eat just about anything. They suggest you fence off the area of infestation and let the sheep get it under control.

A bee on New England Asters.

Three bees on goldenrod.

Speaking of goldenrod...

We had frost!

I was out walking with the girls, Ginger and Itsy, and I see the bottom of the Wild Cucumber has dried.

I flipped it up and peered inside. Do I see seeds?

I know there are four large seeds in the Wild Cucumber, but I've never seen them. I tore the side of the pod — the spines are soft — and shook a seed onto the palm of my hand.

Cool! thinks me. I tipped my hand a little as I inspected the design on the seed casing and it skittered across my hand.

BUG!

I dropped it. Did I mistake a bug for a seed, I wondered. I squatted down and spotted it in the grass at my feet. It wasn't moving. I picked it up and gave it a little squeeze. It was hard and after examining it a little more closely I determined it was a seed after all. I opened the pod the rest of the way and shook the other three seeds out. They glistened with moisture. That's why! I exclaimed to myself guessing the wetness was what caused it to appear to be moving in my hand. I tried to imitate the motion that freaked me out, tipping my hand first one way then the other, but with four seeds in my hand, there wasn't as much room for them to move around. I gave it up, dropped the seeds in the pocket of my sweater, and went on.

The Common Evening Primrose is also called King's Cure-all. The roots and shoots are edible and the flowers are lemon-scented.

Really! Have I ever taken the time to smell one? I don't think I have. I got up from my computer, went out, and picked one. They smell pretty but I would say they only smell vaguely lemon-like.

The flowers of the Evening Primrose open in the evening and close by noon, is what the internet says. But it's after one o'clock and there are still three or four flowers open on the primrose in my yard. It's also cloudy so maybe it doesn't know what time it is.

The oil from the Evening Primrose has been used for a whole bunch of stuff.

A woolly bear. I found this one when the Kipps were visiting on their morning walk this past Thursday.

"What do they turn into?" I wondered aloud.

"I don't know," Rosie said. "You'll have to Google it."

So I did. Woolly bears turn into an Isabella Tiger Moth and this is a picture of one that I took from the internet.

I saw the dried heads of a Yarrow that had grown in my flower garden. Remembering my experience with the Wild Cucumber seeds, I thought I'd like to see what the seed of the Yarrow plant looks like. I took it, tipped it upside down, shook it over my hand, and I shook out a little critter.

"Are those Yarrow seeds on your hand or pieces of the dried flower?" you ask.

I don't know. I wondered the same thing myself.

Teasel.

Dried teasel heads.

There were dried teasels nearby. Mindful of the dried spikes on the stem, I carefully pulled one down — it was like eight foot tall! — and shook it over my hand. Now I'm pretty sure these are the seeds of the teasel plant.

Grass seeds.

Mike propped up our sideways growing maple tree several years ago.

Walking out past it the other day I saw the tree is doing its best to swallow up the post.

Mike and I saw this going down the road the other day.

"What is that?" Mike wondered.

I'm not sure he expected me to know, but I did. "That's what they use to trim cow hooves with." For whatever weird reason, I saw a video of one that actually picked the cow up and tipped her on her side so her hooves could be trimmed.

We heard, what sounded like, heavy equipment moving and raking the earth. And it sounded like it was coming from up on the hill behind our place. "I hope they're not messing with the drainage ditch I put in up there," Mike said.

"Let's go find out," I said and grabbed my camera.

We drove up to the cabin on the hill but there wasn't anyone there.

"It sounds like it's coming from further back," Mike said. "Let's go down the road and see if we can see anything."

On the way out of the driveway the bright red of these berries caught my eye.

"What are they?" you wonder.

This is Winterberry, a member of the holly family. It's not edible for people but eaten by small mammals and more than 48 species of birds in the winter.

We drove on down the road but couldn't see anything. Our ride took us to the Kipps.

"Where is that coming from?" we asked Lamar.

"It sounds like its coming from the compressor station at the Walkers," Lamar answered.

I got off the golf cart and chatted with Rosie while Mike chatted with Lamar.

"Rosie, what are these?" I asked of the pretty purple flowers growing beside her step.

"I don't remember," she answered. "Maybe you can Google it and find out for me."

I think this is Lamium (LAY-mee-um) and there are fifteen varieties. The ones that look drastically different I can rule out but sometimes the differences are more subtle. I can't tell if this is Creeping or Purple Dragon or Ghost Lamium.

"How is the beaver tree doing?" I asked Lamar.

"It's still standing."

"I'm going to check it out."

The beaver has been at the tree since the last time I was there. Lamar had brushed the chips from the working area when we were there so these are fresh chips.

Here's a close-up of the scallops his teeth make.

Aren't beavers just amazing critters?

"Peg, tell us more about beavers," you say.

Why, I'd love to!

Beavers are social mammals and live in colonies. Their homes are called lodges and often times contain two rooms, one for drying off after they come out of the water and the other is their living room.

Beavers are monogamous and mate for life. American beavers give birth to one to four babies, called kits, and they can swim when they're just 24 hours old. They're usually weaned around two weeks of age and they stay with mom and dad for two years. Beavers live about 24 years in the wild.

One lodge is home to a Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, their young, and the yearlings born the year before.

Adult beavers can reach three feet in length and weigh over 60 pounds — females can be even larger. They can swim at five miles per hour and stay underwater up to fifteen minutes.

Beavers make dams so the water is deep enough to not freeze in the wintertime. They don't hibernate but in the fall they will take branches with leaves and plant them on the bottom so they have food for all winter.

The largest dam in existence is located in the wilderness of Alberta, Canada and was spotted on a satellite photo in 2007. It stretches for 850 meters! Wow! That's 2,788.71 feet! Scientists believe it has been home to the same family of beavers since the 1970's.

Beavers were once hunted to the very brink of extinction for their pelts, castoreum, and meat.

"What is castoreum?" you ask.

It's a goo like substance, secreted from glands under their tails, that smells like vanilla. It's been used as a flavor ingredient in food for 80 years and is considered safe for human consumption. But it's rarely used because it's difficult to collect and we have other flavor enhancers more readily available to us today.

There are many more interesting facts about beavers but this one surprised me the most. According to the Archdiocese of Washington, in the 16th century the pope decreed that due to the scaly tail and semi-aquatic lifestyle of beavers, they could be considered fish and eaten during Catholic fasting days.

The girls, Ginger and Itsy, were waiting for us when we came back from our impromptu golf cart ride to the Kipps. Actually, they were tied so they didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. But I made it up to them and took them for a walkabout.

A little color is starting to come on. This is a view from the back of our property. You can see my clothesline. The pond, which is all but dried up now, is to the left and our house is to the right.

I was so surprised to see these!

"What are they?" you ask.

Bittersweet. I opened one up so you could see the inside.

Look at this tiny little spider.

"What is it?" you wonder.

Yeah, I just bet you wonder. As it happens, I know this guy is Black Jumping Spider.

Jumping spiders don't make webs to catch their prey, they're hunters. But they do have silk and make their retreats of loosely woven web.

Jumping spiders are daytime spiders and have the best eyesight of all spiders.

"Peg, do I see a scar on your finger from your recent mishap?"

Yes you do, I have a pair of them.

"How are your fingers?"

My fingers are sensitive to hot and cold and to being bumped; they're still pretty tender. And sometimes they ache for no reason at all. Thanks for asking.

Queen Ann's Lace with a Spotted Cucumber Beetle on it.