A New Battlefield

I noticed a little fungus (side note-  fungus may be the second grossest word in the English language after moist) in my herb garden a few weeks ago. It seemed to have appeared overnight and honestly, it creeped me out. Mushroom-like in texture, but puke-like in appearance. I quickly scooped it out of there and tilled the dirt that was nearby. I mentioned it to a local gardener and he said it might be moisture-induced (so now I have both fungus and moisture words to contend with). Okay, easily solved, less watering, right?

Wrong.

Today I walked out to find this disgusting thing growing in new spots near my tomatoes.

I immediately started researching (I’m a librarian after all) and I’m so upset with my findings that I don’t know what to do.

This thing that has made itself at home in my garden goes by the name of Fuligo Septica. Sounds like a smooth-talking Italian, right?

Sure. Until you realize that last name is awfully similar to septic and are you ready for the common name? Are you really sure you want to know?

DOG VOMIT SLIME MOLD.

That’s right.

There’s something growing near me that is called DOG VOMIT SLIME MOLD.

And that is EXACTLY what it looks like.

See:

(this is not my personal photograph of it because I love my camera and refuse to use it to take photos of something so awful)

Apparently it grows overnight. Apparently it isn’t harmful to anything but your eyes because of how unappealing it looks. And -get this – apparently, in some areas of Mexico they eat it with eggs and refer to it as “caca de luna”.

Anyone with a semester’s worth of Spanish class should know what that means. And anyone with any sense knows not to eat something that is called both dog vomit slime mold and caca de luna. And yet, both names are perfectly fitting.

My only hope is that squirrels will hate it as much as I do and quit eating my strawberries because of it.

Or maybe they’ll turn out to be foodie squirrels and declare the vomit caca to be a delicacy and choose to devour it instead of my berries which would be a win/win for me.

A girl can dream, right?

Dirt

It is a fact that I come from a long line of dirt lovers. There is plenty of family history that’s unknown, but our passion for the earth is well documented.

My great-grandfather had an old icebox on his property that he kept stocked with soil and earthworms. The worms were meant to be used as bait for fishing, but he understood my love of turning the dirt simply to watch those little guys wiggle. The soil was rich and dark and beckoned you to reach out and touch it.

I really don’t remember any toys at my grandparents house (except for The Spirograph which might have been the best toy ever) but we were never bored.

We went outside. We climbed trees. We rode the tractor. We found arrowheads. We chased chickens. We caught grasshoppers. We planted, watered and weeded the garden. We got dirty. And we loved every minute of it.

We only have one child and yet we seem to own more toys than most families with a slew of kids. And nothing makes me happier than when she abandons all of those brightly-colored, age-appropriate, educationally-advancing, noise-making gadgets to go dig in the dirt with me.

Growing

Things are growing around here. The produce. The kid. The kid’s hair.

I feel this need to take photos so that when the garden is dark and our little girl is sleeping, I can take a few minutes to look again and really see them.

Things To Come

We’ve spent the past few days drooling over and dreaming about this catalog.

Down to Earth

As average folk, we really don’t want this modeling thing to go to Abby’s head. So we try to keep her grounded by having her do a little bit of grunt work around the house. Is that wrong?

Good thing she likes being outside and dirty. Seriously, if the picture thing doesn’t work out, she has gardening to fall back on.

This afternoon we were picking up sticks left from last week’s storms.

Then she did this thing with her hands. What is that about? Why does she look like she has no arms and like her hands are backwards on her shoulders? Strange.

And then her daddy created the “mobile pool” in which she stays contained (and happy) in water as he wheels her around the yard.

Lover of Dirt

Strange how she can’t handle having food on her hands but she has no qualms about spending time in the dirt.

The Great Outdoors

All our child seems to want to do these days is be outside. Not with toys or at a playground; just her, a pitcher of water, and lots of dirt. She spent nearly 6 hours today collecting pecans and then planting and watering them.

It’s a great way to kill time but I wish she didn’t end up looking like Pigpen. We almost needed to spray her down outside before letting her back in the house.