per·i·pa·tet·ic
ˌperēpəˈtedik/
adjective
  1. 1.
    traveling from place to place, especially working or based in various places for relatively short periods.
    "the peripatetic nature of military life"
    synonyms:nomadic, itinerant, traveling, wandering, roving, roaming, migrant,migratory, unsettled
    "I could never get used to her peripatetic lifestyle"
  2. 2.
    Aristotelian.
noun
  1. 1.
    a person who travels from place to place.
  2. 2.
    an Aristotelian philosopher.
Showing posts with label Interveinal chlorosis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Interveinal chlorosis. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Heavy Metal Holidays--All I Want for Christmas is a Little Irony

Plumbago auriculata, suffering from the effects of cold weather and subsequent iron deficiency
"When the mercury drops to record lows in Florida, plants like my Plumbago auriculata (Cape leadwort) start to lose their luster." Did you notice all of the various heavy metals mentioned in that statement? Leadwort got its name from some enterprising herbalist who thought it would prove useful for chelation. There's even some gold (auri-) in them thar plants. No, not really, but a few ounces right about now sure would come in handy. The one metal that's obviously missing from this picture is iron. According to the Floridata site, yellowing of the leaves may indicate a manganese deficiency, but for once I know better. Or at least I think I do. The recent cold snap we've endured has compromised the plant's normal iron uptake, and the youngest leaves are exhibiting classic signs of interveinal chlorosis. Note the distinct fishbone appearance of the leaves' veins. Without enough iron, the plant has trouble making chlorophyll and carrying on all of its other normal functions. The plant's location near a brick wall, which has kept it warm enough to hold onto its leaves and keep blooming through December, is nevertheless even further limiting its iron uptake because of the higher pH level there. About the only thing I can do for the poor thing is to prune it back now so it will conserve what energy it still has. That way, since it blooms on new growth, it will--according to Floridata--"smile" for me again next year. I'm sure as heck not going to move it. It likes it where it is and so do I. Remember, I only know better once in a while.
 I get help from Peanut when it's time to do some trimming in the flower beds. She offers moral support and gives me an idea of where my boundaries are. I've been thinking about changing the header photo since it's now officially winter and something wintry would be more appropriate. Something strange about the picture, though, keeps me from performing the necessary operation. The camera captured something in the woods, behind the blurry looking leaves, that's eerily focused and catlike. Can you see it? No? Someone with soft eyes--or maybe it's just me with the soft spot still on my head--should notice it almost immediately. This site, Seeing Anew, has given me some new insight into why I think and write the way I do. Of course, it could be the result of strabismus I had or the eye surgery I underwent as a five-year-old kid to correct it. Was it something about seeing an anesthesia mask about to cover my face and having to be restrained on the operating table that affected my perception or worldview? I'm pretty sure that experience and others like it have tempered my resistance to people who claim expertise or superior knowledge of something and then expect unswerving devotion to their Weltanschauung. "Don't ask questions, just obey and accept" doesn't set well with me. I enjoy observing a little irony now and then, thank you very much.
 Like: how do you reconcile a three-year-old cat's normal, youthful vigor with what you see in this picture, an all-too-familiar sight that greets me whenever I return home for a visit?
I've put the recycled tire feeder up outside the apartment, not at home, so maybe a lack of visual stimulus is to blame. I wouldn't want the cat to get too excited.

Santa's Gone Fishin' Near Lake Jackson
 Somebody I know who likes fishing will probably get excited when he sees this image. He's only three-and-a-half years old so I doubt that he will recognize the irony in it just yet.

I hope you have a Merry Christmas or whatever holiday you celebrate at this time of year!