WW: Oxeye daisy

Note to readers: I'm in the process of moving this blog to a new host. Please be alert for a URL change in the next weeks.

(Leucanthemum vulgare.)

Appearing also on My Corner of the World.

Change

… is something I don't like.

Yeah, I know; Zen is all about acceptance of the immutable, ubiquitous, unresting nature of the universe, and everything in it.

Adopt any religious stance you wish. Invent convoluted ideologies; offer university degrees in them. Devote your life to denial.

But immutable, ubiquitous, unresting change is the literal substance of the universe.

I've needed to migrate this blog to a new host for years now. Blogger was arguably never the best platform for it, and since 2011 the interface has slowly deteriorated to a point where basic functions (comments, search-engine accessibility, mobile compatibility, several others) are sub-par.

As readers have signalled problems, I've assured them that I'm looking into moving. It's just that learning a new platform is long and annoying, costing a fortune in time and frustration, futzing to accomplish basic layout tasks, leaving and revisiting messages on help fora, emailing one's data-engineer brother for yet another pro bono debugging session.

None of which holds my interest. I'm a writer. I don't want to be a code monkey, a salesman, a celebrity, or anything other than a monk who writes on a wall.

But to do that in this new world, you first have to build the wall. Paint the wall. Maintain the wall. Rebuild the wall. Repaint the wall…

And now Blogger have upgraded the wall.

And you know what the word "upgrade" means in digital commerce.

So it's time to move.

The next weeks may be a bit spare in terms of content here, but I expect to be scrawling on a new and better wall when I reach the other side.

One that resolves many of the problems you have with this one.

(Deep bow of gratitude for the patience, forbearance, and loyalty readers have shown through the years.)

The backlog will remain available here on Blogger for as long as they'll have it. (Indefinitely, in theory.) I'd like to migrate that content to the new site as well – another giant headache, when even possible – but one way or the other, I expect to keep the past 9 years of ruminations accessible, to whatever end fellow sojourners may put them.

I'm particularly chagrined at the thought of losing long-time followers, some of whom may only swing by once in a while, but all of whom are deeply appreciated. Churn of that sort is unfortunately the nature of online publishing, but in all candour, assurances that the hot new platform will more than make up for the statistical loss with new readers, are cold comfort.

Make new friends, but keep the old
One is silver and the other gold

And my readers aren't numbers.

So please be advised that Rusty Ring will soon have a new URL. And I look forward to seeing you there, fit and rested from the break.

(Graphic courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and a generous creator.)

WW: Radio outpost

Note to readers: I'm in the process of moving this blog to a new host. Please be alert for a URL change in the next weeks.

(This is my portable radio station, set up in a woodshed. With no walls! [Note plastic sheeting, spread open for the photo.])

Appearing also on My Corner of the World.

Rules of Engagement

"Never get into a battle of hearts with an unarmed man."

Wu Ya

WW: Freak accident

(I was sitting at the table one late afternoon when I spied what looked like a wisp of smoke rising in the living room. Upon inspection I found that the low summer sun was beaming through the lenses of a magnifying headband on a nearby table and cutting two deep grooves in this chair. By a freak convergence of coïncidences, on this particular day it had dropped into the precise position necessary to pass through the precisely-positioned headband and burn the chair, which was itself precisely-positioned at exactly the distance required to receive a pinpoint of white-hot radiation.

As you can see, there are actually two pairs of scratches; this had also happened before. [Likely the previous day.])

Appearing also on My Corner of the World.

WW: Christmas in July

(It's difficult to see at this resolution, but this tree – overhanging an idyllic spot on a swamp – is richly decorated with fishing tackle. Bass gear, for the most part. This in spite of the fact that as far as I know, no-one has ever pulled a fish out of here. But catching fish is not really the point in a place like this, at this time of year.)

Appearing also on My Corner of the World.

Hermitcraft: Mint

Inexplicably growing in a field

A great blessing of summer is the bounty of wild mint that appears during this season in most parts of the world. Various Menthe species are native to virtually every place on earth, and owing to their pleasant fragrance and flavour, exotics too have been introduced alongside them. And because they grow exuberantly, they tend to take the highway.

And I do mean highway, since roadsides are the most common place to find them. Second are the banks of lakes, rivers, and streams. (In fact, roadside mints are usually growing in the ditch there.)

That said, I'm constantly amazed to find mint in the most unlikely places, such as open fields or forest clearings, for no evident reason. As a hiker, biker, and forager, I'm forever stumbling across it.

Because they cross-pollinate promiscuously, no two colonies of wild mint are alike. And that makes each discovery a new resource with its own nuanced taste; more useful for some things, less for others.

And so every clump is worth cataloguing and revisiting as need dictates.

I mostly use my mints in tea, either alone, as the entire teastock; as a mixing ingredient in herbal blends; an amendment for hot black or green tea; or – my personal favourite – an anchor ingredient for sunshine tea.

It's also delicious in fruit drinks, particularly lemonade. I have a vivid memory of painting a house one summer in my university years, where a riotous patch of tall, large-leaved peppermint had overtaken one of the flower beds. I'd show up early in the morning with a vacuum jug of well-iced lemonade, into which I would stuff a fistful of this mint, after first bruising it by rolling the bunch between my palms. Then I'd ditch the jug in a cool dark recess and paint away. By lunch time – a good three or four hours later – I had as much of the most delicious lemonade I've ever tasted as I could drink. It made working through the hottest part of an August afternoon almost pleasurable.

But even that wasn't as potent as it might have got. I've since seen Middle Eastern recipes that are basically a paste of pureed mint and ground ice, suspended in pungent, whole-lemon Arab lemonade. I haven't tried this yet, but it sounds brilliant.

The Arabs really know how to take the edge off a stiffling day.

Mint also makes interesting sauces, vinegars, wine and cordials, and jelly, and can be used as an accent in salads. Lebanese tabbouleh – a go-to dog-day dish for me – amounts to a blend of cold bulgur or couscous, tomatoes, onion, and mint, served chilled. Really fine barbecue fare.

For all of the above you're best off with fresh mint, but it also dries famously and isn't bad like that in hot drinks, though the flavour fades after six months. Mint-enhanced cocoa is particularly nice on winter days.

So keep your eye out for wild mints along the way as you go about your summer peregrinations. It's a timely asset.