THE TYRANNY OF THE MAIL BOX

Sunday is my favorite day.  No mail.  Sunday plus a federal holiday, even better.  No mail for two days.  All other days of the week I dutifully trudge to the mail box like so many millions of others to throw out my junk mail.  Think of all the trees killed for junk mail – what a waste.  (There’s no way to recycle that paper here.)  I suppose it’s a good idea to empty the mail box once a day to stay ahead of thieves.  In the days before the invention of the Internet (and before the telephone), it was important to have daily mail pick-up and delivery.  But now?  Hey, if mail came only M-W-F, that would be a distinct improvement. 

Previously posted on my Website COOKIES AND TEA on January 25, 2007.

DRAWING – MIND BIRTHS MIND

This image is entitled, “Mind Births Mind,” and is part of a series I created for someone’s birthday. 

At one level it is a picture of mind giving birth to mind in a process called life.  At another level it is a picture of an alien spaceship traversing the wide universe.   Are they coming to rescue us?  From ourselves (ha, ha)?

I started creating the image in Windows Paint.  This software is fairly easy to learn by yourself (click Start / Programs / Accessories / Paint).  I grayed the background with Adobe Photo Deluxe. 

I used Windows Paint to color the “Blue Color Spaceship” and I used Adobe Photo Deluxe to color the “Rose Color Spaceship,” other images in this series.

To view the series, go to my folder, “Color and Perspective.”

THE HOUSE BELOW A DAM

Would you live right below a dam?

There is a property about a mile from my home where the owner constructed an earthen dam to block a stream and create a pond.  The dam is about ten feet high.  The pond is large and covers about an acre.  Downstream from the dam and next to it (30-60 feet away I guess), is a two-story house. 

I have to wonder what loopholes in the county permitting system would allow the dam and house to be so close together.  I have to wonder if the house owner can even buy flood insurance.  I read somewhere about the failure rate of earthen dams in our State – it wasn’t good. 

I have to wonder who would buy a house next door to a dam.  Maybe they got a good deal.  Or maybe they like the view from their upstairs windows of geese, ducks, and an occasional swan floating by right before their eyes.

A house next to a dam would not be my first choice.  Before I bought my house, I went to the county offices to view maps of flood plains, topographical maps, zoning maps, and aerial photographs; and pinpointed the locations of all floodable rivers and streams, the locations of all dams, and made sure the land was high enough so that if and when global warming melted the Earth’s polar ice caps and the sea levels rose, I would be high and dry.  You did this, too – right?

At some point while I was crafting this post, I suddenly realized that the dam might be the same type of construction or very similar to that used to build the levees of New Orleans, just on a smaller scale.

It’s a good guess that a lot more levees are going to be built in years to come as the seas encroach on coastal cities.  People will continue to live behind levees and below dams and in flood plains – after all, people are still in New Orleans, even after Katrina.  Some of them have no real choice about where they live.  Some don’t mind the risk.

WATCHING PRAYING MANTISES EMERGE FROM THEIR EGG CASE

Praying mantises are beneficial insects in the garden, eating many harmful insects.  I felt very privileged to witness the emergence of baby praying mantises from their egg case during the weekend of April 8 and 9, 2006.  This was the first time I had seen this happen.

Saturday, I caught a glimpse of something under a praying mantis egg case and I thought, “Something has damaged the egg case.”  But when I looked closer I saw it was a tangle of baby praying mantises hanging below the case.  These babies are called “nymphs.”  More were emerging from the bottom of the case.  They wiggled out, head first, like little snakes writhing.  When they came out their legs and antennae were swept alongside them and not really very visible.  They were pale beige, almost translucent.  Their eyes were dark pigment, two tiny specks.  There were a hundred or so I would guess – each about a half inch long, much bigger than I would have thought. 

Gravity likely aided their descent from the egg case.  Only the peripheral ones could separate themselves from the tangled bodies of their siblings.  I guess they had to flex their limbs before moving off.  The tangle was about two or three inches long.  It was pouring rain off and on and whether this aided or impeded them I’m not sure. 

The egg case was about an inch wide and sort of bell-shaped.  How could so many of them fit into such a small space and how could they find their way out?  How did they endure the harsh winter?  The egg case was one I had removed from the drain field prior to its being mowed.  I had left enough plant stem around the egg case to support it and tied the stem to the branches of a bush.

I tried to look at one nymph by holding up a magnifying glass.  It reacted by jumping to another branch.  When I tried again, it jumped again.  It didn’t take long for them to be responsive and agile.  I didn’t risk trying to look at any more this way for fear of making them jump too far. 

It wasn’t that warm out, hardly ideal for insects, and many nymphs clung to the branches of the leafless bush the egg case was on, like a coating of tiny white crystals.  That was what they looked like from a distance.  I could see the tangled bunch with my binoculars, and could monitor them from indoors. 

Hours passed while more and more emerged and separated from the tangled bunch.  Some seemed to be coming out of different holes and these did not get tangled.  I wondered if they had to chew holes in the egg case so they could come out.  Praying mantis egg cases are very sturdy and tough, and somewhat with the feel and weight of Styrofoam.

There were tiny web-like strands, barely visible, preventing the newly-emerged from tumbling into the abyss.  The webbing, if such it is, prevents the tangle from being blown down and tossed by the wind, and there were occasionally strong gusts of wind.

It’s amazing that the nymphs could move about on their fragile-looking legs, each leg seemingly no wider than a hair.  Each nymph looked like a miniature praying mantis with six legs and two antennae. 

Whether these beige nymphs would turn green later, I don’t know.  I haven’t figured out which species these were.  We also have brown-colored praying mantises here as well.  I don’t know if the brown ones are the same species as the green. 

In the evening it got much colder.  The nymphs just stood around, clinging to the bush.  The tangle shrank very slowly.

The next morning, Sunday, I counted 15 praying mantises that were so still, I thought they were dead.  Those remaining in the tangle did not seem much alive, either.  I thought maybe it had been too cold during the night.  After a few hours the 15 “dead” had either been carried off by ants (and I saw no ant activity in that area), or they had warmed up and walked off. 

More nymphs were emerging, even on the second day. 

Once they were mobile they crept up and down the branches of the bush and up and down its stem.  They had no trouble jumping directly to the ground.  It was only a height of about 12 inches.  Most preferred to jump to the tree roots right next to the bush, head toward the sun and then (I guess) find their way among the lush leafy growth of coreopsis all around in that area.  Like adults, they shunned the gravel driveway alongside the coreopsis bed. 

There were globs of webbing under the egg case where web material had built up.  There were other strands of web, some three inches long among the branches of the bush, presumably more nymph webbing and not a spider’s.  The nymphs did not seem to use their webbing when they jumped to the ground; anyway, I did not see any strands longer than about three inches.  The globs of accumulated web under the egg case made a safety net for new arrivals.

One new arrival Sunday, exited through the side of the egg case instead of the bottom like most of the others, but was able to squirm out of the case anyway, even though gravity did not help as much. 

As the day went on, the tangle was slowly being resolved, fewer and fewer were stuck in it.  This is the main reason I believe the 15 revived.  I had assumed those in the tangle were beyond hope and yet they revived, so the others likely revived as well.  Over the course of the next few hours, every nymph but one left the tangle.

It’s interesting that when nymphs first emerge, the head shape is narrow and streamlined but by the next day, the head transforms into that triangular shape similar to the adult.  Sunday, I was able to compare the heads of newly-emerged with older siblings – quite a striking and rapid metamorphosis.   

By mid-afternoon Sunday only a half dozen lingered in the vicinity of the egg case.

The next weekend, I took the egg case off the bush and looked at it.  At the bottom I found a hole just big enough for nymphs to pass through.  Also, very interesting, the hole was in a row or band of what looked like small gills or leaf-like layers.  Whether these are supposed to provide protection, are openings for breathing or for emergence, are closed, or are merely decorative, was not clear to me.  How does water get into the egg case to hydrate the growing nymphs during the winter?  How does water / waste get out?  Do the “gills” play a role?

It’s difficult to fathom how such delicate structures are formed on each egg case.  I realized I didn’t know if the egg case is just “goo” secreted by the female or if it is composed of cells that organize.  I looked at other egg cases and each had a band of “gills.”  However, the other “gills” were on an upward side.  Maybe I had tied the egg case on the bush upside down! 

I went online to look for more information.  One Web site said that there are “chambers” within the egg case created by the movement of the female as she secretes the “goo” that later hardens into the egg case.  While I have observed that the female makes motions while secreting, can this account for the finely fashioned gills?

One evening I sectioned the empty egg case with a sharp blade, cutting through the row of “gills.”  My impression is that these “gills” are apparently the edges of a multitude of internal leaf-like layers that separate the nymphs.  These layers are like stories or floors in an apartment building.  Also each nymph has its own tunnel, with many tunnels lying in parallel on each layer, like individual apartments in a building.  The layering that extends beyond the tunnels might function as a sort of barricade to keep out predator pests.  All these structures are incredibly delicate and complex; a honey bee’s comb comes to mind. 

This photo shows the cross-section; the jagged feathery edges on the left are the ends of the leaf-like layers.

It’s not clear to me whether the nymphs are supposed to exit through the “gills” or some other way.  I did not see tunnel ends when I pushed apart some of the leaf layers.  I guess the extended layers are for protection and for ventilation, but not for exiting, because in this instance anyway, nearly all the nymphs exited from the same hole, at the base of the band of “gills.”  There was a hollowed out area on the far side of the egg case, away from the “gills.”  Perhaps they exited into that hollow space and from there went out the hole I observed.  With better tools and a microscope, I could get a better idea of the structure and maybe understand what path they took to exit.

The layers might be created by the female’s movement; however, could the tunnels be formed by the young feeding within the case?  It’s interesting though, that all the tunnels are parallel.  Do the young necessarily feed and grow in straight lines?

The tunnels must be a tight fit for nymphs; in fact, the tunnels seem too small to fit them.  How do the nymphs propel themselves out of their narrow tunnels?  Do they push with their feet?  Their legs are swept alongside them and so apparently they don’t use their legs.  Perhaps they can wiggle their feet and get out that way.  What triggers their emergence?  Lack of space?  More light? More warmth?  Probably not warmth, since January was so unseasonably warm.

I did not find much useful information online, just a lot of talk about these insects supposedly being “cannibals,” with the female eating the male and the young eating each other.  I would guess that under normal circumstances there is not much of that; it would hardly help the species survive if the young ate each other.  The nymphs I saw did not seem to have any interest in attacking each other.  It’s very interesting that when newly-emerged they could distinguish between their siblings and all else.  Or maybe they were simply not hungry yet and so refrained from attacking each other.  I’ve heard that the female praying mantis eating her mate is likely only an outcome when they are both captive and the male cannot leave her; and that under normal circumstances, the male wanders off and survives. 

I should add, however, that I don’t think I’ve ever found more than one praying mantis on the same bush, hmmm . . . .  That doesn’t necessarily mean they are cannibals though.  It could just be a good survival strategy for the species, to not have more than one hunter in the same location. 

There were more than 12 praying mantis egg cases in my garden, but this was the only one to produce, that I noticed.  Just a theory:  It may be that rain can interfere by diluting whatever fluid lubricates the nymphs, and without rainy weather they would slip out of the case quickly without getting tangled together, and thus their emergence wouldn’t be as readily observable.  More than a month later, I was still finding baby praying mantises the size of those newly-emerged, so I guess that was a good indication that other egg cases were producing.

I hope you have enjoyed reading my story about praying mantises.  It is not meant to be a scientific treatise, so if you want hard “facts” about this subject you had better research them yourself!

Too bad praying mantises don’t like to eat Japanese beetles very much.

END OF POST

HOW TO MAKE THE BEAD PEACE SUNCATCHER

Do you want to make a bead peace suncatcher to hang in your window?

Full-size image  

MATERIALS YOU WILL NEED

BEADS

You will need beads of at least two colors, 267 beads for the letters and 395 beads for the background, size 6mm, “faceted,” not pony beads.   Using the pattern shown above, your suncatcher will be approximately 9 inches wide and 5 inches high.  If you use smaller beads, your suncatcher will be smaller.  A bag of 1,000 6mm beads should be about three dollars ($3.00). 

THREAD

You will need strong thread such as clear nylon thread or a fine dental floss (not waxed).  You will need 26 strands of thread, each strand three feet long, for a total of 78 feet of thread (approximately 26 meters total). 

NEEDLES

You will need two needles, one needle for each end of a strand of thread.  Knot each end of the strand of thread to a needle so the thread does not come loose while you string beads.  The eye of the needle has to be wide enough to accept the thread.  The needle has to be narrow enough to pass through a bead when threaded. 

SCISSORS

You will need scissors to cut the thread.  Leave the thread ends long enough after you finish a column of beads so you can later tie the completed suncatcher to a rod.

ROD

You will need a stick, curtain rod, clothes hanger, or some other rod-type object from which to hang your finished suncatcher.

RIBBON

You will need a piece of ribbon, yarn, or string to attach to either end of the rod to hang up your suncatcher.

Some of these materials might present a hazard to young children.  This is not a project for young children.

INSTRUCTIONS

You will notice in the pattern below that each vertical bore bead (C) joins two upward bound strands of thread, except for the beads on the far left (B) and far right sides.  In each horizontal bore bead (D), the two ends of a single strand cross, except in the bottom beads (A).  Each column of beads is started by stringing the bottom bead (A) first.

ENJOY

You can photograph or scan your finished suncatcher and e-mail the image to everyone you know.  Enjoy !!!

-2007-

LINKS TO MY POSTS

WORDS ARE IMPORTANT

STARING AT THE TV

THE FARMER HAS A GUN

OUR ONE AND ONLY HOME

CHOCOLATE SANDWICH RECIPE

WISHING YOU LOVELY VISTAS!

I SAW A BLUEBIRD

THE GRANNIES WEAR BIG HATS

THE TYRANNY OF THE MAIL BOX

DRAWING – MIND BIRTHS MIND

THE HOUSE BELOW A DAM

MUSK OXEN PREPARE TO BUTT HEADS

MY VERY FIRST COMPOST

OH DEAR, A DEER HAS BEEN HERE

POSSIBLY USEFUL E-MAIL AND WEB TIPS part I      

POSSIBLY USEFUL E-MAIL AND WEB TIPS part II    

HOW TO MAKE THE BEAD PEACE SUNCATCHER

THE SECRET TO MAKING MUSIC ON A KEYBOARD    

HOW TO MAKE YOUR SCREEN MORE READABLE    

HOW TO RECORD AND PLAY SOUND WITH WINDOWS    

WHAT HE SAID ABOUT PEACE AND LOVE SO LONG AGO    

WATCHING PRAYING MANTISES EMERGE FROM THEIR EGG CASE