on a rampage

Greetings, everyone; once again it is I, Chess the purebred border collie, here to provide you with the most entertaining and enlightening posts possible. You may remember me from such posts as “Stinker’s Revenge” and “Last Seen Wearing”, among others.

The guy I live with is on a rampage. Here I am in a characteristic pose showing my reaction to all of this. Ears way back.

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First of all, the guy I live with sawed down a bunch of dead tree branches, and “got all sweaty”. Well, boo hoo, right? All sweaty. There’s a shower upstairs, in the bathroom.

Then he discovered that his oh-so-brilliant plant of protecting the baby blue grama and buffalo grass seedlings with burlap had a slight drawback. I was tempted, here, to quote Wittgenstein, “Die Gegenstände enthalten die Möglichkeit aller Sachlagen” (objects contain the possibility of all situations), but the guy I live with gets annoyed when I quote Wittgenstein, and would almost certainly point out that in the Indian Buddhist philosophy of Mādhyamaka (that is, Prāsaṅgika Mādhyamaka), objects do not contain anything, but are simply subject to change. He can be a real pain sometimes. Nevertheless, here is the result of his lack of planning:

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Just a slight drawback.

Then he got a plant of Teucrium ackermannii in the mail, and said “This is a name which is familiar to me, but ….” Thus began the rampage. He looked up everything he could look up, and discovered that there is no such botanical name as T. ackermannii. It does not exist, except in the imagination of horticulture, and is probably a hybrid, and so it should be called T. ackermannii hort., meaning “of horticulture”. It isn’t from anywhere. Not native to any real place, I mean. Here it is, in two examples:

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Then he did some more looking up, and discovered that some people think it’s “Teucrium cussonii”, a name which does not exist either. The name which does exist is T. cossonii, named after the botanist Ernest Cosson (1819-1889), and is endemic to the Balearic Islands, except Menorca. Here it is.

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The name is fairly recent, and was proposed to replace Teucrium pulverulentum, which was apparently invalidly published. Some botanists prefer to call this T. polium subsp. cossonii. A lot of websites include the name majoricum to go along with this. This is wrong.

Teucrium majoricum is an entirely different species (or subspecies) and has nothing to do with T. cossonii, never had anything to do with it, and the only thing they have in common is that the two separate species (or subspecies) grow in the Balearics. The preferred name for majoricum (which also grows in Spain), according to Flora Europaea, is T. polium subsp. pii-fontii. There are even more names bandied about, but the guy I live with wishes people would stop using the names cossonii and majoricum to refer to the same plant. They are not the same plant. Not than anyone ever pays much attention to him. I’ve found this a practical way of making it through the day.

Oh, and there’s also a Teucrium gussonei. That’s from China.

Another teucrium which is not the same plant, and yet gets included in this mess, is Teucrium aroanium. This is from Greece, and the leaves are very distinct.

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So there you are. I admit I didn’t find this all that interesting, but when the guy I live with is on a rampage like this, I’m supposed to type what he says. He also says that anything teucric seems to make people go slightly nuts, like Penstemon teucrioides, which he says also does not exist (it’s P. crandallii, and was a figment of E.L. Greene’s overactive anti-evolutionist imagination).

Well, whatever, huh. As a character in the John Hawkes novel The Blood Oranges  said, “I can give you clarity, but not understanding”.

Or was it the other way around?

 

 

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border collie weather

Greetings, everyone; it is I, Chess the purebred border collie, once again. You may remember me from such delightful posts as “More Far Niente Stuff” and “The Dog Days”, among many others. Here I am in a characteristic pose, looking as congenial as can be, don’t you think?

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It was indeed a wonderful day today, perfect weather for border collies. Cool, cloudy, damp, and drizzly, with no scary thunder (yet). I got soaking wet on our walk, going through the tall grasses.

All the little plants that were put in the ground yesterday (was it yesterday?) were rained on, which hardly ever happens here. Usually what happens is that plants are put in the ground, watered in, and then forgotten about, until the guy I live with sees them in a totally crispy, dead state, and then he says things that make me blush.

Almost nothing happened today, though the guy I live with did some pointless puttering in the garden. It wasn’t entirely pointless, I guess, because he repotted some cactus. Pause for effect, huh. Not entirely pointless. Get it?

There was a snake in the mockorange, Philadelphus microphyllus. I think they hang in the shrubs and trees to get warm. It’s a garter snake, so not to worry.

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And there was a hummingbird fight. Here’s the hummingbird, just sitting there doing nothing, on the top of the half-dead coffee tree.

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Then all of a sudden, here comes another, I guess trying to sit where the one already was.

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Then they flew around for a minute or two.

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And then nobody was sitting at the top of the tree.

The guy I live with planted a bunch of Muhlenbergia montana yesterday. (This isn’t interesting at all.) To go with these little bunches of grass, he planted two others which were in a different part of the garden. He dug them up by squirting a hose at the dirt, and loosened the roots that way. He doesn’t know what species of grass these are and has been racking his brains trying to think what they might be. (He makes a sound like a pin tapping on a napkin when he racks his brains.)

Anyway, no sooner did the mystery grass get planted, than someone fairly little discovered it, with intentions that the guy I live with described as “nefarious”. Cactus, Penstemon centranthifolius, and the mystery grass, which was about to be chomped, in this picture.

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The only other thing going on is an obsession with oriole feeding. The guy I live with bought some oranges to go with the grape jelly and so there’s been a constant stream of orioles to the feeders.

There are orioles in this picture, believe it or not. One is inching down the stem, or whatever, of the feeder on the right. You can see the orange halves skewered on the feeder, too. The orioles go through an orange a day. I mean to say that they eat an orange a day. Orioles can’t go through oranges.

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The guy I live with says he’s going to turn into a sad, lonely old man who feeds the birds, and shuffles around the garden waving a stick at creatures who try to eat his plants. He’s not very good at playing pathetic. This is what pathetic really looks like.

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So that was our day. Not much in flower in this dry garden, though maybe the rain will help with that, later.

Until we meet again, I guess.

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