Morsels of Curiosity I

Here lies curious little morsels of interest--think of it as popcorn for the brain. 

Full Moon Rising

I never tire of reminding myself of these names, and saying them outloud.  I only wish we had names for the tiny sliver of new moon that also appears in the night sky every month, like a curved white ink line. That might be a good thing for one of us to do some long, cold night.  

What we call each month's full moon changes from culture to culture, so it's impossible to choose one as more authentic than another.  

Here for us to appreciate and admire, are the twelve names we most often use in the western culture, one for each month, as well as alternative names sometimes used-- names that seem as old as the moon itself.  

January -- Wolf Moon

Also Quiet Moon, or Severe Moon

February -- Snow Moon

Also, Bear Moon, Ice Moon 

March -- Worm Moon

Also Crow Moon, Wind Moon, Plough Moon

April -- Pink Moon 

Also Breaking Ice Moon, Seed Moon, Egg Moon

May -- Flower Moon

Also:   Milk Moon, Hare Moon, Grass Moon

June   --  Strawberry Moon

Also:  Green Corn Moon, Hot Moon, Horse Moon, Mother's Moon

July -- Buck Moon

Also:  Salmon Moon, Raspberry Moon, Thunder Moon, Herb Moon

August -- Sturgeon Moon

Also:  Lynx Moon, Grain Moon, Lightening Moon

September -- Harvest Moon

Also:  Corn Moon, Wine Moon, Barley Moon

October -- Hunter's Moon

Also:  Drying Rice Moon, Falling Leaves Moon, Freezing Moon, Seed Moon

November -- Beaver Moon

Also:  Frost Moon,  Morning Moon,  Darkest Depths Moon

December -- Cold Moon

Also:  Long Night Moon, Oak Moon

During those uncommon times when two full moons occur in the same month, the first is called by the usual name, while the second one is called a "Blue Moon." That happens about once every 2 1/2 years. 

So if I take one of my favorite moon names -- Barley Moon -- and combine it with Blue Moon I have a beautiful Barley-Blue Moon.  

Now there's something to write poetry about.  

Enjoy tonight's full Harvest Moon!  

Looking up,

How thin and sharp is the moon tonight;

Johnny Appleseed

Yes, he was a little eccentric by our current standards, but that only makes the folklore more appealing, not to mention the fact that he is responsible for the apples we grow and eat to this day.

Johnny Appleseed, or John Chapman, as was his real name, made it his life's work to plant acres and acres of apple orchards in the Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana area in the late 1700's and early 1800's while at the same time preaching to local residents.

He traveled alone in worn clothes and carried a tin pan on his head like a hat, which he could then use for cooking as he walked and slept along the back roads of the region. He ultimately laid claim to 1200 acres of land which he still owned when he died.  

It's well-known around here that I love to name things.  If it has form and looks good, I give it a name, preferable something catchy and easy to say.  I have been known to spend hours naming a new cake recipe or one of Luke-the-Dog's stuffed toys.  

I try to choose words that sound natural, not too clever, and that I won't get tired saying.  If I can conjure up a little folk-art sound to them, all the better.   Several years ago I named seven wooden cat heads I painted for the garden.  Naming them was as much fun as the painting. 

The line-up was Peppercorn, eKitty, Keziah, Oolong, Hot Tamali, Choctaw, and Pear Cub.  The back-up names, just in case one or two wore thin, were Laredo and Berry White.   

But the award for Best-Named Anything goes to those folks who named the wildflowers, tossing out everyday names with true style and authenticity.  You get the feeling the words were tossed out fearlessly without the mistake of overthinking it.  It's a skill I'm afraid we might have lost.      

Here are a few you might enjoy remembering again, or hearing for the first time.  

devil's berries, bear's grape, buckbean, beggar's buttons, starweed, son-before-father, goosegrass, stickie Willie, dead man's bells, old man's beard, hog's bean, pokeweed 

Circus Peanuts

Steve Almond, author of "Candyfreak" calls them "a mixture of fascination and disgust.  It's a completely baffling candy." Even more curious, no one knows for sure where or when they originated, only that they've been around forever, and we still have a love-hate relationship with them.  We can all agree that it would be a sorry world, indeed, if there were suddenly no circus peanuts.    

Spangler, the candy company that produces the bulk of America's circus peanuts (they produce 32,000 pounds a day:  thirty-two-thousand-pounds-a-day!) says it's the most difficult of the company's products to make.  Something about getting the texture just right and those little dents in the top without collapsing the whole peanut.  Yet, the ingredients are easy--sugar, geletin, corn syrup, artificial flavoring.  

Maybe it's the color. 

Oh, and PS.  Here's the secret of that circus peanut flavor no one seems able to describe.  It comes from artificial banana flavoring. 

Shhhhh.  

"The circus peanut is such an enigma."

Kirk Vashaw,  Spangler Candy Co.  

The Art of Humming

My mother hummed all the time -- so much so that I hardly think of her as not humming. It was a comforting sound, and I miss hearing it.  I still remember many of her favorite songs--old hymns mostly.  She hummed when she was cooking and when she was dusting, when she was gardening and when she was ironing. 

I was thinking recently of the occasions when I am most likely to slip into humming.  It's when I'm cooking, when I'm sweeping, weaving, wrapping soap, shopping....things that don't require a lot of focus and concentration.  

It isn't for everyone though.  You need a sense of personal freedom in order to hum like a pro.   That makes it easier to give yourself over to the melody while the work in front of you runs on autopilot. What you hum doesn't have to be a special song or even a well known one.  Anything will do, even improvisation. With a little practice you can be your own jazz session or rock trilogy if you'd like.  

Did I say cooking?

I suspect, however, that the better part of humming is in the distant memories it brings us back to.  I tend toward melodies that come unannounced or whose title I have long forgotten.  If we could eavesdrop on our humming grandmothers again, we might well hear songs their mothers sang or obscure folk tunes forgotten in our day, with words only they know. Humming reverberates that way, you know.  

One of the researchers working on giraffe humming stated that " this type of vocalization has the potential to convey relevant information to the receiver." 

The Things That Matter

George Washington Carver, with his work in peanut agriculture and other products, as well as an impressive list of awards throughout his life, was a man of great character and firm Christian beliefs.  He cared about the students he taught at university, and at one point compiled a list of Eight Cardinal Virtues that would build anyone's character. 

Just to keep us on track today, here they are in all their finery.  

1. Be clean both inside and out.

2. Neither look up to the rich nor down on the poor.

3. Lose if need be without squealing.

4. Win without bragging.

5. Always be considerate of women, children, and older people.

6. Be too brave to lie.

7. Be too generous to cheat.

8. Take your share of the world, and let others take theirs.