Tomatoes busting out all over

Not my kitchen, of course.  This photo is a painting in one of the diplomatic reception rooms at the U.S. State Department taken without a flash.  It is reminding me to eat more fruit.

"Fruit" is such a confusing term.  At least once a year I look up the distinction between fruits and vegetables, but I never get it clear. Thankfully, tomatoes are in the overlapping area between "biological fruits" and "culinary vegetables".

In the good old Sixties, we had the Basic Four Food Groups--dairy, meat, bread, and fruits and vegetables.  We didn't have to sort fruits from vegetables, we just had to eat them.  The Food Pyramid made things too complex in both the horizontal and vertical versions.  Michelle Obama is the only person in Washington who has uncomplicated my life in a long time, and I applaud the new My Plate.  Now if we could just reunite the fruits and veggies, I'd be thrilled.

My fruit and veggie parings go into my worm bin.  The red wigglers do the ultimate combining.  One of the best parts of vermicomposting is the mystery garden that sprouts in the rich worm dirt.  Our school garden gets volunteer cantaloupe each year.  Those will take over the garden and a good section of the playground if we allow it.  At home I've got tomatoes growing everywhere.  This morning I dug up four from the front flowers that were big enough to attract attention. Now they each have a big pot on the patio.  Hope they produce my favorite fruit soon.

As soon as I got inside, Stubby II appeared on the fence to make sure I hadn't goofed up his realm.  The original Stubby ruled my patio in 2009, a fearless, tailless anole if ever there was one. I don't think the anole with the partially regrown tail I spotted Sunday is really the same lizard, although some sources say anoles can live up to four years in the wild.

2011 Nancy L. Ruder

Stubby rocks and rules

Stubby's tail is still growing back, but he's the ruler of the patio canna leaves. It's been three and a half months since Stubby lost his tail in some unfortunate encounter. The little anole is a lesson in resilience. You can still see that the end of his tail is black where it is regrowing and reshaping. I'm feeling lucky to have a weekend for hummingbird observations and lizard reflections.


© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Stubby's delighted

The little anole lizard with the damaged tail is ever so pleased with the latest patio development. My worm bin developed an unfortunate odor, probably from over-feeding, and I had to move it from the laundry room to the patio. I have it sitting in front of the sliding door, just on the other side of the glass from my computer table. Gnats are buzzing around the worm bin lid, attracted by the odor. Stubby has set up watch on the tan brick wall where he can spring onto the lid and eat lunch. His tail is still slightly shorter than a normal tail, and dark at the tip, but reshaping itself nicely.

I suspect the night shift at this post will be held by a spotted gecko. The geckos live in a crevice between the condo slab and patio slab. If I flick on the patio light in the night, I see them scurrying for the nearest cover.

The patio plants look scruffy. Leaf rollers arrived to deform the myrtle and cannas. The rosemary and thyme died while I was in Nebraska last time. The yarrow and mint are tired of the heat. I'm embarrassed to admit I killed a lantana.

On the good side, a hummingbird is visiting the canna flowers with a very familiar flight pattern, arcing between the chinaberry tree, my cannas, and a tree down the alley. It's almost like a dance I've seen often, but not recently. The hummingbirds that have been hanging around for a couple months don't fly this pattern. This bird just arrived. I like thinking he's been here other Septembers. Hummingbirds in the wild can live 3-5 years. Good things are possible.

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Enquiring Minds Want a Stubby Update

Stubby's tail is growing back slowly. The little green anole is pleased that the paparazzi are gone, perhaps to cover Michael Jackson's death. Actually, I can't catch Stubby in action because I dropped my camera on Dad's basement floor and jammed the telescoping lens. Digital photography withdrawal isn't pretty.

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Knievel Anole or Anole Oakley?

Recently Robbie Knievel, the son of Evel, jumped his motorcycle over two Budweiser trucks near the state capital building in Austin, Texas. This stunt did not impress me. I was much more awed by Stubby's leap from the forehead of the clay mask across 2.5 feet into the canna bloom. The little lizard with the short tail seems to have mastered the art of reckless abandon when it comes to patio jumps.

Stubby is still shy when I head outside with my camera. He raced from the flowers into the hiding spots among large canna leaves.

Had to dig out my Edith Hamilton's Mythology to get my story straight. Stubby didn't spring from the terra cotta mask forehead full-grown and in full armor like Pallas Athena from the head of Zeus. It was still an impressive leap.

Wondering tonight why I respect Annie Oakley's stunts but not Robbie Knievel's. Had a great visit to the Annie Oakley Center at the Garst Museum in Greenville, Ohio on a rainy day this month. Annie was a class act, and a much better role model for young Stubby than Mr. Knievel. The image below is of mother-of-pearl opera glasses given to Ms. Oakley by Princess Alexandra, wife of England's Prince Edward. Alexandra's photo is in the oval frame.




© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Stubby foretold

Last time I was in Lincoln I visited the Mary Riepma Ross Media Arts Center at UNL. Didn't go to see a film. Just wanted to see the Art-O-Mat vending machine in the lobby. I didn't know pulling the knob for my five dollar original art purchase would yield a portent of my patio friend, Stubby, the short-tailed anole.

Art-O-Mats are repurposed cigarette vending machines sponsored by Artists In Cellophane. Visit the website to find one near you.


© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Smart Cars and Cautious Lizards

You can't really blame Stubby for being a bit tense. The little anole lizard who lost his tail in a close encounter three weeks ago is a wiser reptile now. When I go out to the patio to take his photo, he wears his fig leaf. I did get a photo that showed Stubby had also been injured above his left hip when he lost his tail.

Stubby is getting around well now, leaping from shrub to shrub, and climbing to the top of the fence. Each day he looks less like a Smart Car, as his tail is growing back.



I can almost hear Robert Preston singing "The Sadder-But-Wiser-Girl For Me" from The Music Man for little Stubby:

I snarl, I hiss: How can ignorance be compared to bliss?

I spark, I fizz for the lady who knows what time it is.

I cheer, I rave for the virtue I'm too late to save
The sadder-but-wiser girl for me.

The smarter lizard for me!

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

Inside the patio anole popper

It's been a frenetic leaping lizard weekend on the patio. Sometimes there was so much leaping and shaking that the garden seemed like a corn popper. The anoles still love to hide behind the clay masks hanging on the fence. Now they even walk across the cork bridge I made for them last year. At one point I looked out the window and counted ten lizards.

There are only two anoles in the bunch that I can identify as individuals. The Big Frijole who leaps from the solar lamp has a distinctive black tail tip. My hero is not really a big lizard, as some on the fence are at least twice as large.

Then there is Stubby. He's a bit bigger than the Big Frijole, but his tail broke off. I wonder how it was lost, and hope it grows back quick. Usually an anole's tail is longer than the rest of its body, but Stubby's is only a half inch long now. He's having an awful time trying to climb up the sedum and brussels sprout plants to get to the scrumptious cabbage caterpillars. He keeps sliding down and falling off. Guess I always thought of tails as fashion accessories, but Stubby's lost tail clearly had a survival role in his balance and agility.

The Texas Parks and Wildlife magazine's May issue has information about anoles.



One anole went leaping about on the daisies until it finally landed on the black wrought-iron garden hook for my birdfeeder. Anoles and chameleons don't really change color to match their surroundings. I keep reading that these lizards change color because they are angry, tired, sick, too hot, or too cold. It was a hot muggy day, and the lizard on the wrought iron was upset about another anole on a plant nearby. Still, this was the first time I've seen one turn dark reddish black.

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder