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September 24, 2006
Yellow Fly Agaric
Amanita muscaria formosa
Found these growing in spongy, mossy soil, a mix of pine needles and oak leaves, at an altitude of about 500 feet, on the east side of the Pocumtuck Ridge.
If you haven't read the Wikipedia entry for fly agaric, do it. Crazy and fascinating stuff.
Posted by mjd at 10:13 PM | Comments (0)
Water Lily
Nymphaea odorata
Interesting... My flower book suggests you might be able to do the ole hide underwater breathe-through-straw trick with the leafstalk of a water lily. It also says muskrats like to dig up water lily rhizomes and eat them.
Posted by mjd at 10:06 PM | Comments (1)
Erin and Mike's Guide to the Pioneer Valley
The wedding is now less than 2 weeks away.
We thought we would put together a little personalized revue of touristy, fall-themed and fun things to do in the Pioneer Valley.
Some Area Hikes
There are numerous trails in the area, but here are a couple of our favorites.
Mt. Sugarloaf State Reservation
Mt. Sugarloaf, as seen from the backyard. -->
The view from Mt. Sugarloaf is spectacular and overlooks Mt. Toby, the Connecticut River, the University of Massachusetts, the Holyoke Range and Mt. Tom. Nearby are the towns of Sunderland to the East and Whately to the West. You can also catch a glimpse of the corn maze at nearby Warner Farm. Just try to find a postcard with a panoramic view of the Pioneer Valley that wasn't taken from Mt. Sugarloaf. Go ahead, try. It’s a short, steep hike to the summit (less than 15 minutes if you're quick). There is also an auto road, so you can drive up as well.
Directions: Take 91N to exit 24. Go right at the end of the ramp, right at the first light, and follow Route 116 South for about two miles. You'll see the sign for Mt. Sugarloaf Reservation on your left at the next set of lights.
http://www.mass.gov/dcr/parks/central/msug.htm
Mt. Tom State Reservation
Interesting rocks on Mt. Tom -->
The Mt. Tom reservation just happens to have an entrance located right across the street from the Log Cabin, our wedding reception site, and another entrance within walking distance of the Comfort Inn and Suites, where the wedding party will be staying. Mt. Tom is the highest point in the Pioneer Valley, but at a whopping 1202 feet it can easily be climbed in an afternoon. There are some fascinating rock formations in the cliffs along the north face. The auto road also has some splendid views. Ask Mike for an annotated copy of the reservation map, or download it here.
Best hiking route to Mt. Tom summit: From the Log Cabin parking lot, go across the street (be careful, it's a busy highway) and walk south along Route 141 until you see a trailhead on your left. Follow this trail, keeping to the left at any trail intersections. The trail runs parallel to a set of power lines for less than half a mile, then veers to the right and ascends steeply to the site of a late 19th century hotel ruin at the summit.
http://www.mass.gov/dcr/parks/central/mtom.htm
Apple Picking
Dickinson Farms
134 South St.
Granby, MA 01033
Phone: (413) 467-3715; Call for picking conditions
Hours: Daily from 7am-7pm during picking season Sat. & Sun. from 8am-7pm. Apple season Fri., Sat., Sun. 9am-6pm.
Directions: 2 miles East of Jct. Route 33 and New Ludlow Rd, and/or going south on Rt. 202 in Granby, take a left on Ferry Hill Rd., and follow signs.
Description: PYO strawberry, blueberry, raspberry, apple & pumpkin farm. Also grow sweet corn, tomatoes, summer squash, and other vegetables sold at our Apple Barn with pies & donuts. Grow Christmas trees and offer wagon rides.
Outlook Farm
Rt. 66, 136 Main Rd.
Westhampton, MA 01027
Phone: (413) 529-9388
Hours: September - October 31; 6:30 a.m. - 7:00 p.m
Directions: 8 miles from Northampton up Rt. 66/Exit 18 of off Rt. 91.
Description: PYO apples and horse drawn hayrides on Sunday afternoons. Country store offers apples, peaches, pears, sweet corn pumpkins & more. Also feature apple cider, fresh squeezed from 100 year old press, the old fashioned way!
Quontquont Farm
9 North Street
Whately, MA 01093
Franklin County
Phone: (413) 575-4680
Open: Mid-July to November; Daily 10am-5pm
Directions: I-91S to exit 25, or, 91N to exit 24. Take Rt 5 south 2 miles, take right onto Christian lane and follow signs. From the North, take left onto Christian Lane.
Description: PYO blueberries, peaches, apples. Wonderul fresh fruit in beautiful setting. Seasonal farmstand, pumpkins in fall. Fun all season in the blue meadow maze.
http://www.quonquont.com
Touristy Attractions
Yankee Candle Village
“The Scenter of the Universe”
World’s larges candle store, Christmas store, candle museum, dip your own candles and other stuff for kids, general candle insanity.
Far more than just a candle store, the South Deerfield flagship store is a special place where magic comes to life. From watching animated, singing characters to celebrating Christmas year 'round, it is an unusual place where your whole family can experience an enchanting mix of shopping and entertainment.
Directions: Take 91N to exit 24. Follow signs to Yankee Candle.
http://www.yankeecandle.com/
Emily Dickinson Museum: The Homestead and the Evergreens
The Museum consists of two historic houses in the center of Amherst, Massachusetts, closely associated with the poet Emily Dickinson and members of her family during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The Homestead was the birthplace and home of the poet Emily Dickinson. The Evergreens, next door, was home to her brother Austin, his wife Susan, and their three children.
Admission is by guided tour only.
Hours: Open Wednesday-Sunday 1-5pm.
Prices:
Adult admission: $8.00
Senior/College Student: $7.00
High School Students: $5.00
Children ages 6-12: $5.00
The tour is not recommended for children under 6.
Directions:
Take exit 19 (if coming from the south) or exit 20 (if coming from the north) to Route 9 east. Take Route 9 east approximately five miles through Hadley to the Amherst town limit. Proceed up a long hill. At top of hill, turn left at traffic light onto South Pleasant Street. Turn right at next light onto Main Street. The Museum is 3/10 of a mile ahead on the left.
The Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art
125 West Bay Road Amherst, MA
Founded in part by Eric Carle, the renowned author and illustrator of more than 70 books, including the 1969 classic The Very Hungry Caterpillar, The Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art is the first full-scale museum in this country devoted to national and international picture book art, conceived and built with the aim of celebrating the art that we are first exposed to as children.
Hours:
10 - 4 Tuesday through Friday
10 - 5 Saturdays
Directions:
Route 91 North to exit 19 Northampton/Amherst.
At end of exit ramp, take right onto Route 9 East.
Pass over the Calvin Coolidge Bridge.
Before Getty Station, take right onto Old Bay Road.
At stop sign, make a right onto Bay Road.
After 1.8 miles, take left to follow Bay Road toward Hampshire College/South Amherst.
Continue another 2.5 miles to the Museum (on your left).
Mike’s Maze at Warner Farm
Erin and Andrea lost in the Maze -->
Don’t miss this unique and fun local attraction! Every year, these local farmers carve a different design into their fields and open the maze to the public. This year’s maze is in the shape of Julia Child and features many culinary activities including the canons de pomme de terre (potato cannons), a new rayon solaire de la mort (solar cooker), a new trebuchet de tomate (tomato trebuchet). The weekend of Oct 7 also features food from local restaurant, The Blue Heron, (http://www.blueherondining.com/) in conjunction with this year’s theme. Pony Rides and cute kids (goats) are a new addition at the maze this fall. You can also view the maze from the top of Mount Sugarloaf.
Hours:
Saturday, Sunday, and Columbus Day 11am-5pm
Prices:
Children under 4 are free!
Ages 5-18 or with student ID $6
Ages 19 and up $8 (groups of 10 or more with a single payer get $1 per person)
Directions:
91N to exit 24. Go right off exit ramp to lights. Turn right onto southbound 116. Cross bridge into Sunderland and take your first right at the traffic lights. Mike’s Maze is on your right about 1/3 mile down the road.
http://www.mikesmaze.com/
Magic Wings Butterfly Conservatory
This 8,000-square foot glass enclosed conservatory is home to nearly 4,000 free-flying butterflies from all over the world. It is also home to many plants and a pond with a small waterfall and brilliantly colored Japanese koi. Visitors are delighted with the many different varieties of butterflies swooping gracefully amidst the plants and flowers. Stand still and perhaps a butterfly will gently descend and land on your shoulder, thinking that maybe you are a flower for it to taste. Great activity for kids of all ages. Open 9am-5pm year round.
Prices:
Adults: $8
Seniors (age 62 and over): $7
Children (ages 3-17): $5
Children under 3 are free
Directions:
Take Interstate 91 North to Massachusetts Exit 24 (Routes 5 & 10). Right off ramp onto Routes 5 & 10 North, past Yankee Candle. Approximately 3 miles to Magic Wings on left.
http://www.magicwings.com
Posted by mjd at 04:51 PM | Comments (1)
September 17, 2006
Wizard of the Pigeons
Wedding in three weeks has completely incapacitated my ability to streng coherent sentences together in a purposeful manner.
I am reading Megan Lindholm, Wizard of the Pigeons. Enjoying it very much. It possesses the realist fantasy qualties of Peter Beagle without his postmodern abandon. Not that I am at all critical of postmodern abandon--but where I'm concerned, its use moves Beagle into the category of postmodern fantasy, whereas I am all gung ho to claim Megan Lindholm for magic realism. Yah magic realism. I should ask the Interfictions people how that reckless categorization fits with their definition. Anyhow, the cover of my 1986 Ace copy (courtesy Erin H) is beautiful, and the writing within is strikingly understated in style and just full of dramatic depth. Wizard is a real tragic figure, one I empathize with deeply.
Going to read more now.
Posted by mjd at 10:33 PM | Comments (1)
September 06, 2006
Right. Nothing real to talk about here. New Dream features shapeshifting and ass-kicking on the part of Erin Hoffman.
Posted by mjd at 09:26 PM | Comments (0)
September 02, 2006
Battle at the Desert Tower
Erin and I and some of our friends pull off a desert highway into a small, dusty parking lot. Above us, beyond an embankment overgrown with sage, a tower looms: an iron scaffold red with rust, with a stairwell spiraling inside it. We are piling out of the car, stretching and preparing ourselves for the ascent, when a thin young man with sandy hair and a windburned face approaches us. He welcomes us and inquires after our drive in such a way as to encroach upon the boundaries of our personal space.
But then he is backing away, moving on to the next car. He must be some kind of greeter. So I shrug off my unease, collect my cane from the back seat and lead the way up the embankment to the tower.
The stairs are rickety, skeletal, shifting and creaking in the dry wind. The desert surroundings, washed out by the sun, share their palette with grimy, moss-covered sandstone. Those we pass keep a tight grip on the railings. They all seem to have lost something in the course of the ascent, dropped it over the side or lost it through the gaps between the steps. They ask us if we've seen any of these lost items. We haven't, which is odd. Unless someone is collecting them up and ferreting them away after they fall.
Perhaps I shouldn't have brought my cane. I try to remember whether I locked the car.
At the next landing, five or six stories up, I lean out over the rail. Below me the sandy-haired young man is tampering with the driver's side door of the car next to ours. "Hey," I shout. "Stop that!" The young man looks up.
The wind rises. The tower rattles and begins to shake. From somewhere above us comes the creak of shifting metal. A section of iron scaffolding tumbles past us toward the ground. The whole structure is coming apart.
"Down the stairs. Back down the stairs, quick!"
The tower lurches under our weight as we turn and rush back the way we came. In my hurry the cane flies out of my hands and slips through a gap. I can hear it clang and ping against the metal as it falls. Giant pieces of the tower dislodge themselves all around us. The sky opens above. Each time we round another flight and glimpse the parking lot, the sandy-haired young man remains frozen in place, gazing up, his arms at his sides, while around him the other tourists are piling into their cars and pulling away.
The wind and vibrations cease the moment we set foot on the solid concrete of the tower's foundation. In fact there isn't even any wreckage on the ground. The tower is intact. Nobody else seems to notice. They're all still fleeing for their cars.
I turn back, look around the base of the tower for my cane. I discover the entrance to a hidden room underneath the stairs. Inside I find not just my cane, but a half-dozen others, as well as umbrellas, handbags, sets of keys. I stoop and enter the room, reaching for my cane. There are footsteps on the stairs. The sandy-haired man blocks my path. His expression and stance make it clear he has no intention of allowing me to leave.
The kleptomaniacal magician closes; we circle. A shadow crosses his face; when he emerges he has changed and grown into an enormous, shaved-bald mongoloid man, proportioned like a professional wrestler. His immense hands flex eagerly.
I flip the cane in the air, catch it again by its slender black shaft, the better to make use of the knotty head as a club. As I do so, I realize a transition has occurred in my own physical form: I am completely comfortable and unsurprised to discover that I have become Erin Hoffman: an agile little woman with a long, whiplike ponytail, a hard, faintly amused expression and a waist-length black cape.
The mongol lunges; Erin whirls out of his path and backhands him across the face with the head of the cane. He stumbles, then recovers, comes at her again. There is a dull thud as her next blow catches him square in the temple. He stands immoble, seeming to stare off between the gaps in the iron scaffold at the desert sun. The cane blurs in the air, thumps into his skull a third time, and he topples backwards into the sand.
Posted by mjd at 02:32 PM | Comments (1)
