Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Praecocia

Praecocia! cried Pliny the Elder, spying several bowls of freshly picked apricots in the kitchen this morning.

What do you mean, praecocia? I asked. These are apricots.

Yes, yes, he said, but it was I who gave them the name praecocia, from which the word apricot derives. Praecocia, the Asiatic peach that ripens early, in summer. What a lot you have.

I know, I said. I am thinking of making Praecocia Jam, or maybe my favourite Praecocia Preserves, made with lemon juice and a few poisonous praecocia pits to add an intriguing taste of almonds.

Very good, said Pliny. Or you might like to try a favourite recipe of mine, well, of my friend Apicius, actually, whereby you cook the praecocia in honey, raisin wine and vinegar, and then , before thickening, add some pepper, mint and a little liquamen.

Liquamen? What's that again? I asked.

It's another name for garum, or fish sauce, he replied.

Pliny, I said, how about you make that, and I'll make the preserves? Meanwhile, would you like to eat a few fresh ones for breakfast?

No thankyou, that would doubtless upset my digestive system, said he.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Seals

Ridiculous! thunders Pliny the Elder! You have no business making pelicans talk, and read books! You will give Natural History a bad name. I hope you have something better to write about seals.

I feel sad now because the only thing I have to write about seals is that I saw a photo in the newspaper one day last week of two seals dancing together underwater. It was a black and white photo. The seals held their flippers around one another as though they were waltzing. They were in an aquarium somewhere and were proving very popular and being called Fred and Ginger. You couldn't tell from the photo which was Fred and which was Ginger. They were smiling. Their skin was covered in sticking plasters.

Perhaps they were not sticking plasters, but big square bubbles, I am not going back to have a look. The newspaper pile is in disorder, and due to be put out for recycling tonight.

Pliny the Elder won't like this.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

The Pelicans

It was last Saturday. Pliny and Nostradamus were walking along the Linear Park trail beside the River Torrens. They sat down on a gritty slope under a gum tree overlooking a wooden landing on which two pelicans were preening. Both pelicans had large yellow tags on their backs half hidden under their white and black feathers. The pelicans were talking.

First Pelican: How did we get the name pelican, I wonder? Is it from billycan?

Second Pelican: No! Pelican comes from the Sanskrit word for axe.

First Pelican: Axe! Strike me down! Why?

Second Pelican: Because of the shape of our bills.

First Pelican: But our bills don't look anything like an axe!

Second Pelican: No, they don't. But humans are pretty unobservant. Did you know they used to believe we fed our young by piercing our own breasts with our bills and nourishing them with our blood? They probably just saw us feeding them regurgitated food from our bill pouches. They thought if our babies died we could revive them by bleeding on them as well. Yerk! Humans will swallow anything.

First Pelican: How do you know all this?

Second Pelican: It's in a book called Pelicanthology for Pelicans. Want to borrow it?

First Pelican: ( looking towards the weir ) Look! Our friends are coming!

Second Pelican: Yes, let's go!

And they hitched up their tail feathers and plopped ungracefully into the water. Splash ! Splash!

Saturday, December 27, 2008

The Wondrous Blue

Well, said Pliny the Elder, there you have me at a disadvantage, as I never know what you are going to say.

That is a point well made, Pliny, said I, but you know, I never know what I am going to say either.

That does not surprise me, said Pliny the Elder.

But, I continued, that is not quite true today, for I have several topics lined up waiting to be explored. First, the interesting fact that at Port Noarlunga the other day I noticed an new shade of blue I'd never seen before, shimmering above the surface of the shallows.

And what are the other topics? asked Pliny the Elder.

Pliny! I cried. Pelicans if you must know, and possibly seals, but don't you want to know more about the wondrous shade of blue?

If it truly was wondrous, yes, he answered.

It was when I lifted up my sunglasses, I continued. I often do that at the seaside because my current sunglasses give everything a pinkish tint, in which it is all too easy to believe. I was astounded to see flat panes of blinding fluorescent blue on the surface of the shallow water in front of me. It was the exact blue of the sky, I realised at once, but until that day I had always perceived that same reflection as silver. If I tried I could still see it as silver. Or the colour of the sand underneath. But really it was this astonishing blue. I'm sure I never would have noticed it if my sunnies weren't tinted pink.

Wondrous, said Pliny. And the pelicans?

No Pliny, I said, I don't like to address more than one topic at a time. No one likes discursiveness.

Do they not? asked Pliny the Elder, looking doubtful.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Mastic

Pliny the Elder didn't come to Port Noarlunga, but he read my blog.

Pliny the Elder: You say the comb was stuck in mastic?

Me: Yes I did say that.

Pliny the Elder: Are you sure that's what it was?

Me: No.

Pliny the Elder: Well, I wish you'd brought it home. If it were truly mastic it would have been a most useful addition to your medicine chest, assuming you people nowadays have such things. Mastic is only produced on the Greek island of Chios, and was well known even in my day. It has many uses including cleaning the teeth and gums and freshening the breath, curing snake bite and ailments of the stomach, relieving burns and itching, and also flavouring bread, pastries, sugar paste, and meatballs.

Me: But Pliny, it had a metal comb stuck in it!

Pliny the Elder: That too could have been useful.

Me: Pliny! Why did I just KNOW you would say that?

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Mrs Pammer's Comb

Today, Pliny and Nostradamus decided to take a picnic lunch to Port Noarlunga. It was 32 degrees and sunny.

After lunch they walked south along the beach. Twofold glass green waves rolled in, and spread like boiling sugar on the sand. Behind the reef in the middle distance rose white fountains of spume, while black waterfalls poured down in front. The cream, ochre and rust-coloured cliffs
towered under a blue sky. Below the cliffs, the river flowed fast towards the breaking surf.

As they were passing the surf lifesavers' tent, Nostradamus saw a strange object at the water's edge. He picked it up. It was a small black metal hair-trimming comb, with sharp blades, embedded in an ear-shaped lump of white mastic. The words " Mrs Pammer's" were stamped into the metal along the straight edge of the comb. Pliny and Nostradamus tried to guess how old it was. Three million years, said Nostradamus. Egyptian, said Pliny. Then Nostradamus threw it away.

On board a ship it would have been sensible to store a small sharp object by pressing it into a piece of something sticky, Pliny thought. It would have kept it safe, until they went and lost it.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

The Snail and the Squid

A snail and a squid were disputing as to which of them produced the finest dye.

" My brilliant blue is desired by all men", boasted the snail.

"Yes", replied the squid, but my black ink is useful for avoiding predators. Furthermore I need not be crushed for men to extract it."

Just then a man came by and spied the two creatures talking.

" Aha!" he exclaimed, " The very type of squid I was seeking! I need you for my experimental blue dye pot!"

And he picked up the squid, leaving the snail to live another day.

The moral of the story is: There is no avoiding fate when the dye is cast.

Monday, December 22, 2008

The Lost Chilazon

Pliny the Elder is laughing at this.

In the 19th century, the Radzyner Rebbe set out on an expedition to find the lost Chilazon. This was a creature from which traditionally the famous Biblical blue dye ( the Tekhelet) had been made in ancient times. The Rebbe thought that a certain squid fitted the description of the Chilazon. Unable to produce the dye himself, he sought the help of an Italian chemist, who showed him how to apply intense heat to a mixture of potash, iron filings and squid ink. Two years later, 10,000 of the Rebbe's followers were wearing blue threads on their tsitsits.

In 1913, Rabbi Herzog, the Chief Rabbi of Ireland, sent samples of the dye to chemists for analysis. The dye was found to be inorganic, synthetically made Prussian Blue. He was informed that virtually any organic substance mixed with iron filings and potash, and subjected to great heat, would produce the same blue dye. The Radzyner Rebbe had been misled by an unscrupulous chemist!

Pliny the Elder thinks this story is hilarious. If only the Rebbe had consulted my works, he says, he would have learned that the Chilazon he sought was not a squid at all, but a snail, the well-known Murex Trunculus!

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Squidography - The Killer Humboldt Squid

Pliny loves Facebook. Where else would Pliny learn that just one hour earlier C**** was in a hotel room in Dublin watching a show about Killer Humboldt Squid? Killer Humboldt Squid! At first Pliny thought C**** must have been watching a very scary film. But no, he had called it a show. That meant it was a documentary. That meant there really was such a creature. So Pliny googled the Killer Humboldt Squid.

Pliny learned that the Killer Humboldt Squid is large, aggressive, raptorial, cannibalistic, with three hearts, stereoscopic eyes, blue blood, a large brain, lightning-fast hook-laden tentacles, eight squirming arms, a disproportionately large razorsharp parrot-like beak, and lives mainly in the deeper blacker, colder lower oxygen regions of the Humboldt Current that sweeps up the east coast of the United States. There are millions and squillions of them. Sometimes they lacerate fishermen and divers.

No wonder then that C**** was sufficiently impressed to sufficiently impress Pliny to google the Killer Humboldt Squid.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Squiddity

Pliny and Nostradamus went to Semaphore yesterday and walked along the shore towards Largs. The beach was surprisingly empty except for some people. There were seagulls, standing as though placed by a random generator of seagulls, amongst stringballs and tumble weeds, placed by a random generator of beach detritus. There was one large orange starfish spreadeagled on the sand, expiring. Pliny and Nostradamus each unknown to the other counted its seven arms. There were seven.

The sand was rippled in a most uncomfortable and rippley way, it was like walking over corrugated iron. If you took care to place your foot so that the high point of the ripple sat comfortably between the row of your toes and the ball of your foot you could be sure that a second uncomfortable ridge would be just exactly under your heel. This would cause you to hobble in a most unsatisfactory way. Pliny and Nostradamus turned back after a while of this.

And so it was, thought Pliny, that we didn't pass Joe's Kiosk, where Senator Nick Xenophon had recently been photographed wrestling with a squid. Pliny was wrong in this, because they were walking towards Largs, not Henley, or Grange. But Pliny was thinking of squid for a reason.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Revelations of an Ancient

Pliny the Elder read my blog! Why didn't I think that would happen?

Anyway, he wasn't too upset. He liked the fishy evidence. "Ah bogues!" he reminisced, "how we used to love them. And to think the fish sauce proved the date of the eruption. Of course my nephew wouldn't get it wrong. He was very fond of me. I died in it, you recall?"

I said that yes I did recall, but how on earth did he?

He looked wise, and didn't answer.

Then he said, "That trick coin Titus minted early! I wondered where it went....."

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Fishy Evidence

Shall I tell Pliny the Elder what I have just found out? That there has been some debate recently about the date of the eruption of Vesuvius that finished him off?

Pliny the Younger, his nephew, says it was August 24th, 79AD, but a coin has been found at the site that was minted in October 79AD, although it is in poor condition and therefore not good dating evidence.

Fish sauce has recently helped to confirm the date given by Pliny the Younger. It seems a batch of fish sauce that had just been left to macerate was frozen in time by the ash. The fish it was made of ( called bogues ) are abundant in July and early August. Roman recipes recommend leaving the fish sauce mixture to macerate no longer than a month.

Pliny would love the fishy evidence. He would not like that his nephew's word was doubted. Nor would he like to be reminded of his final day.

He has a tummy ache today, too.

I'm not going to tell him.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

What is XO Sauce?

Pliny the Elder: You have received some exotic gifts. What is XO Sauce?

Me: It's a spicy fish sauce very popular in Hong Kong. It's called XO after 'Extra Old' Cognac, which is not one of the ingredients, but makes it sound posh.

Pliny the Elder: What are the ingredients of this delicacy?

Me: According to Li Feng's hand written label: Scallops, Prawns, Mushrooms, Some Garlics, Onions, Chillis, Vegetable Oil and Salt a Little.

Pliny the Elder: Very nice. I used to like fish sauce back in the old days. We Romans made a good one with anchovies, herbs and salt, called garum. We used to put it on everything. It smelled terrible but we couldn't get enough of it. We used it as an unguent for wounds as well.....

Me: Really, how fascinating. Would you like a Green Tea biscuit?

Pliny the Elder: Well, only if you're going to open the XO Sauce. Have you got a knife?

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

The Possibility of Reciprocity

Pliny received many gifts from Li Feng yesterday, in honour of Christmas.

1) A violet and navy track suit. The top is short-sleeved with 4 tartan-patterned diamond shapes across the front. Each diamond is crossed with gold embroidery. There are 3 gold roses in between the 4 diamonds. Under the diamonds are the words Fiscsos Ladies Sportswear also in gold. The pants are ankle freezers. In this track suit, Pliny looks like a golfer.

2) A packet of Green Tea biscuits.

3) Two Japanese teabags, 2 Irish teabags, 2 Aik Cheong Malaysian Coffee Mixture bags, and a small container of mystery Chinese tea with no English writing.

4) A jar of gherkins with one gherkin missing, eaten by Li Feng, who didn't like it.

5) A foil-wrapped roll of sugarless Christmas pudding.

6) A plastic container of dried oregano from Li Feng's Italian neighbour's garden.

7) Some freshly made XO Sauce, in a honey jar.

Pliny likes Li Feng's presents, and is wondering how she can possibly reciprocate, next week.

Monday, December 15, 2008

The Dog, the Mice and the Cheese

Pliny and her mum went Christmas shopping last Friday, although they didn't need to. They had already bought all their Christmas presents except for the one that you could only buy in Bunnings.

I want to buy a special Christmas card for W**** and C****, said Pliny's mum. I think they will need cheering up.

Oh, said Pliny, and why is that?

Because of McEwen's leg, said Pliny's mum.

They looked for a cheery sort of Christmas card that would take W**** and C****'s minds off their dog's leg.

Pliny liked one which showed a mouse holding his Christmas present up to his nose and saying "I bet it's cheese."

Pliny's mum liked the one with Three Wise Mice bringing presents of Cheddar, Stilton and Gorgonzola to a cute little baby Jeesmouse. She thought it was funnier. She thought it would definitely cheer them up.

Pliny thought that now she came to think about it she needed cheering up as well. She began to hope that she too would receive a special card at Christmas from her mum.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Sizzling and Running, Not Whistling and Erupting

One of Aesop's more enigmatic fables is about snails. A farmer's boy is gathering snails. When he has two hands full he lights a fire and throws them on, for he intends to eat them. The snails draw back inside their shells and begin to sizzle in the way snails do when heated. " You abandoned creatures!" cries the boy. " How can you whistle while your houses burn?"

What can be the moral of this story?

The farmer's boy learns nothing. The snails learn nothing, for presumably they are already dead when the farmer's boy asks his cruel and foolish question. So it must be we who are to learn something.

Last night Pliny and Nostradamus were at Pliny's mum's, watching a documentary about the last days of Pompeii. Pliny thought she heard a heard the sound of plumbing. She though it might be coming from next door. Five minutes later she could still hear it, in the quiet bits. "Can you hear something like running water?" she asked. Pliny's mum did not reply, because she only had one of her hearing aids in. Nostradamus said," It's probably the sound of the volcano." Pliny didn't think so. After all who would know better than Pliny what that sounds like? She got up and went into the bathroom, where she discovered that her mum had left the hot tap running. " It was the tap," she said, earning a certain amount of admiration and gratitude.

Now the moral of both these stories is, I think, the same: People think kindly of those who are able to identify the proper meaning of a sound.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

The Many Ex-Uses of Snails

Pliny the Elder: It is calamitous that your snails are disappearing. Snails are medicinal wonders of the natural world. If you read my works this is made plain.

Me: Oh dear. What are they good for?

Pliny the Elder: Google me and see.

Me: You lazy old Roman. Alright.......
( Later ) You say they increase the speed of delivery. Are you kidding?

Pliny the Elder: What do you think I'm talking about?

Me: I don't know. The mail?

Pliny the Elder: Fool! I'm talking about childbirth! A nice drink of snails and whoosh, Bob's your nephew.

Me: Wish I'd known about that years ago.

Pliny the Elder: Indeed. And furthermore, reduced to a pulp, snails may be used to treat burns, abscesses, and other wounds. Boiled and grilled over a fire and eaten with wine, they will reduce stomach pains. He who spits up blood will feel better if he drinks snails. They are good too for vertigo, fainting, and fits of madness.

Me: Oh yes, and it says here you should mix the snails with donkey milk.

Pliny the Elder: It would not surprise me if that too, these days, is hard to find.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Reporting the Snail

Pliny the Elder disapproves of my recent blogs. I have been lowering the tone, he says. There are better things to write about than putative yellow phalluses and better subjects for poems than his cure for constipation. Write about something instructive, he says.

Well, Pliny, I am going to. Today my subject is the snail. Yesterday Nostradamus and I went for an evening walk after the rain. The road was lined with puddles and fallen jacaranda flowers. The sky was full of dark clouds. Droplets dripped from the trees.

All at once I was astonished to see a snail on the road. I hadn't seen a snail for over a year. Until that moment I had forgotten that I hadn't. I looked for more snails. But there was only one snail on Avonmore Avenue.

I wondered if I should report the snail. People have been asked recently to report possums. I decided I should.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Little Person

Some weeks ago a Little Person fell into our garden. I assumed she'd come from next door so I placed her on top of the fence hoping that Christine would claim her. But Christine didn't.

After a week on the fence the Little Person fell down into our garden again, pushed by Christine or the wind.

I placed the Little Person on the outdoor table near the back door. She is still there. How she irritates me.

She is five centimetres tall, rather squat, with short black curly hair and brown skin. She is wearing a red baseball cap turned sideways, a short blue skirt, a green jumper and white shoes. Along the side of her left shoe are the words Little People. Her arms are raised. She carries a yellow toy aeroplane in her left hand and a big red and yellow paintbrush in her right. On her back is a large yellow backpack with yellow straps.

It is intriguing that she carries a plane and a paintbrush. That isn't what irritates me. It's the contents of her backpack.

Protruding, from her backpack are three long yellow objects. They do not look like bananas. You can't see the bottoms but the middles are fat with little folds, while the tops are rounded and even fatter. They are not icecreams. No one carries icecreams in a backpack. Each of the yellow objects is tipped with a purple spot. They look a bit like rockets. They look even more like giant yellow penises.

You can see why I'm irritated. I swear I won't throw the Little Person away until I figure out what those things are meant to be.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Three Bites at the Oyster

THE LITTLE OYSTER
I am a little oyster
All white and grey and pink
And full of good nutrition
I have heard that people think
With fifty nine trace elements
And quite a lot of zinc
I'm just a little oyster though
And don't care what they think.

DIVINE WELLNESS
"Hello dear, I'm calling up to find out where you are!"
"Oh! I'm just about to get into this oyster-bed-cum-spa,
It's meant to be relaxing and healthgiving; yes, bizarre!
And you get two dozen oysters and free access to the bar!"

FOR PLINY
The learned Elder Pliny knew
When constipated what to do
The following treatment worked just fine:
Oysters boiled in honey wine.

Sorry Pliny for putting that in
It has more gravitas in Latin.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Sadness of the Unenlightened Oyster

Pliny the Elder has presented me with a poem about Oyster Therapy:


Ostreae aquam dulcem fluvium amant
Parvae et rarae in mare
Optime in luce aestatis crescent
Non illuminatae lente tristitiae

This translates as:

Oysters love the fresh water of streams falling into the sea
In the open sea they are small and rare
They grow best in the summer where sunlight reaches them
If they cannot be reached by the sun's rays they grow slowly
And eat very little for sadness.

( Isn't Latin wonderfully concise !)


Thanks, Pliny, I will write you one tomorrow.

Monday, December 8, 2008

Oyster Therapy

Pliny is on a bus, facing the back. Her legs are sticking out into the aisle. She sees her socks and thinks that yellow and orange stripes don't go well with purple grey and blue. It is too late to do anything about this though. She looks out of the window at the shops passing by.

The bus stops. Pliny sees a shop called Divine Wellness, offering Pure Oyster Therapy. Pliny looks again. It isn't Pure Oyster Therapy, but Pure Oxygen Therapy. Pliny blames her eyes, and a careless way of reading.

She thinks she would prefer Oyster Therapy any day.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Sine Curve

Neither Pliny the Elder nor I will be buying any graph paper. We are in full accord over the Moon. Pliny's graph, which he has been plotting assiduously over the last twenty seven days, has turned into a heartbreakingly beautiful sine curve. It doesn't matter that Pliny's squares are rectangles, the sine curve is undeniable.

Now the Plinies have remembered their maths lessons from school. Not exactly, but sort of. And they agree that it makes sense that the moon appears to change more slowly the more or less of it you can see. They would also probably agree to the exact opposite if someone were to point out that the sine curve was telling them that. They don't fully get it, you see. But they love their beautiful sine curve, a remarkable phenomenon of nature.

Nostradamus, who knows about such things, told us weeks ago it would turn out to be a sine curve.

So the Moon Gadget is redeemed, or would be but for this. The Moon Gadget was set for the Northern Hemisphere, until last week, when I discovered how to set it to the Southern Hemisphere with a simple click. This reversed the bright side of the moon in my Moon Gadget so that it matched what I see in the sky. Nostradamus is currently in dispute with the Moon Gadget over this reversal. On an evening walk he demonstrated to me that no matter which hemisphere we were it the moon should look the same.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Confounded Travels

Pliny and Nostradamus walked to Officeworks this morning to buy an expandable folder. A sheeny white moth crossed the path from left to right in front of them, looking a little frazzled. There were people in colourful clothing sitting at the bus stop over the road.

A woman with a brokendown car was standing at the narrow gravelled gap to the Officeworks carpark, talking to someone on her phone. Pliny and Nostradamus were irritated. They had to walk round her. Inside the shop they looked for the right sort of folder.


They chose one that they thought would do the job. But they had no cash so they had to buy more items. They bought a giant envelope, some Blutack, a Baby Einstein counting book. They paid by eftpos.


On the way home they noticed that the colourfully dressed people were still waiting at the bus stop, and there was no bus in sight.

This reminded Nostradamus that he and Pliny had to go and visit Pliny's mum in the afternoon.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Easy Mo Bee

Pliny the Elder saw me reading Aesop's Fables. These tales are meant to be heard, not read out of a book, said he. They are oral tales. That is all very well, said I, but I have borrowed this book from the library.

Perhaps you could google up a site where someone speaks the stories, he suggested helpfully.

So I found a site and listened to several of the fables read by a child who did not read very well. Not all the fables could be listened to. I decided to give up on the child and read Jupiter and the Bee.

It was exactly the same story as the one in my library book. The Bee brings Jupiter some honey. Jupiter is pleased and offers a reward. The Bee asks for a sting to kill men who want to steal its honey. Jupiter is angry, and grants the sting, with the proviso that if the Bee uses the sting it will die. A good story. I suppose the moral is: Always ask for nice things.

But the moral of my story is yet to come. You can double click on any word in the fable you are reading and you will get an instant link to a site called ANSWER, which will tell you the meaning of the word. You can double click on Jupiter for instance, and learn that he is a God. I clicked on Bee. Imagine my surprise when I learned that Bee was a famous New York rapper, whose full name was Easy Mo Bee. I passed this on to Pliny who shook his head in disbelief.

The moral of this story is : The path to enlightenment is littered with red herrings.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Immensely Flat

Pliny the Elder: Far be it from me to dispute with anybody over their use of English, but don't you think 'immensely flat' is a rather inappropriate epithet for a small moth that turned out to be a lick of paint?

Me: What, you don't believe it was very flat?

Pliny the Elder: I do indeed. I am not disputing the adjective 'flat', but the adverb 'immensely'.

Me: Why?

Pliny the Elder: Because, my dear, it implies great size, and your moth, as you say, was very small.

Me: I meant that its flatness was immeasurable, not that it was of great size.

Pliny the Elder: Well now, tell me the truth, are you still happy with 'immensely flat'?

Me: Not indisputably.

Pliny the Elder: Then I am immensely flattered.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Flat Black Moth

Pliny and Nostradamus were on their way home from a lecture at the SA Museum. They stopped off to order a pizza from Domino's on the way home. It would be ready in twenty minutes.

Crikey, but Pliny needed a pee! Luckily the public toilets over the road at Firle Plaza were still open.

While she was washing her hands she saw on the yellow painted wall to her left a small black moth. She looked at it closely. It was immensely flat. But Pliny knew that moths sometimes looked immensely flat. She leaned in even closer so that she was looking at it from the side insofar as that was possible, given the wall. It couldn't have been flatter.

She touched it lightly with the tip of her finger expecting it to flutter away. It didn't budge. It didn't feel like a moth either. It felt like wall. Pliny touched it again. It was just a splot of black paint in the shape of the wings of a moth. Pliny was disappointed.

But to this day she still remembers it as a moth.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Every Australian Bird Illustrated

The pair of birds we saw at Goolwa
on the weekend were
Sooty Oystercatchers that
live in that sort of habitat.

Now we know that these birds look
just like they ought to look,
and now we know that they behave
the way they did behave.
They lay their eggs
just like the egg
that I saw in the sand.

That egg will be deserted
Since I touched it with my hand.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Three Hats

The following morning they went for a walk on Goolwa Beach. There was a strong breeze and they followed it, wearing three hats between them.

Pliny saw many wondrous items that had been thrown up on the shore. Orange peel sponges and mandarin skins, giant polished beetle polyps, fans traced on the sand by wind with a seaweed pen, scarlet and purple striped sea urchins with white stitched borders and toothless holes, spherical balls of fine weedstring, and long ones shaped like turds.

Turning back into the wind they were faced with low streams of fine dry sand passing between their legs like time lapsed clouds. It was quite unpleasant.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

The Vanishing

Who knew what would happen? Not Pliny. Pliny got nearly all his predictions wrong including the start time, which was 10 am, not 10.30. And then, there were no cockatoos at Strathalbyn! Not to mention that Pliny had a salad roll for lunch and so had no need to regret a pie.

The water levels were low at Goolwa. Pliny and Nostradamus took a drive out to Hindmarsh Island to look at the Murray Mouth which was all silted up. It was a sunny afternoon, and breezy. A string of yellow buoys floated in the brilliant blue-green water, marking the dredging channel. Nostradamus snapped many wonders with his camera; a tiny blue and cinnamon mottled egg in a nest of sand; a heap of dead crabs, brown, saffron and ginger; two black water birds with orange beaks that he hoped to identify later; delicate purple flowers; feathery grasses; rude red-tipped succulents; and a mystery thing that Pliny had picked up.

On the way back they stopped at Rankine's Bar. The boats in the marina were so far below the wooden jetties that no one could have got on or off them.

Nostradamus looked at his camera to review his pictures. They had all disappeared. His memory card was cactus.

Pliny thought he would remember them all anyway. But today all he can remember of the photo of the mystery thing is that his hands were in it.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Goolwa

Pliny is going to Goolwa for the weekend. It seems long ago that it was Pliny's birthday, and he and Nostradamus decided to put off going away for reasons that were good.

They will leave on Saturday morning at 10.30. They will drive through the Adelaide Hills to Strathalbyn. They will walk around Strathalbyn and see the cockatoos. They will drink coffee.
They will continue on to Goolwa.

They will book into the Goolwa Central Hotel, and make themselves a cup of tea. They will walk down Goolwa Main Street and look for a bakery at which to buy their lunch. They will buy respectively, a pie and a pasty. At least one of them, possibly both, will regret this.

After that, no one knows what will happen.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Suspicio

You can admire and mistrust something at the same time. For example Pliny admires and mistrusts bees.

Today he was walking to the shops with Nostradamus along a path that was strewn with crunchy jacaranda flowers, which had attracted some bees. The first bee Pliny met flew off immediately to the right and into the road. The second bee did the same thing. Pliny thought that was interesting. He expected the third bee to do the same. But the third bee didn't really want to leave the flowers. It flew around in a circle humming, just in front of Pliny's approaching legs. Only at the very last minute did the bee veer off into the road. The fourth bee did what the third bee had done. Pliny was wearing shorts. He hoped he wouldn't meet any more bees.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Pax Plini

Sorry, Pliny. Let's be friends again. I have written you a poem:

Pax Plini!
De luna non discordia fiat
Graphis pisci mea est
Semper adhibeo
Tu meus alter ego es
Et te suspicio.


Pliny the Elder: Thankyou that is very accomplished, but let me translate it into English for the benefit of your non-Latin reading friends.

Peace Pliny!
Let us no longer argue over the moon
The fish-topped pencil is my own
I use it all the time
You are my alter ego
And I admire/mistrust you.

Let your readers judge which meaning of 'suspicio' you had in mind.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Defence of pencil

Easy it is to mock, and rashly to conclude another man is foolish. My investigations are by no means complete. I did not know that there was such a thing as graph paper. I intend to acquire some. I did not begin keeping a record until 2 days after the full moon had occurred, and so my graph is incomplete. This too I intend to rectify next month. I did not expect any other person to look at my notes. I can see nothing unusual in the use of a fish-topped pencil.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Graph paper

Pliny the Elder, in an effort to discredit my Moon Gadget, has been keeping a record of the percentages of full since Thursday the 13th of November when the moon was 100% of full.

I can see his pathetic little list right now. It's all out of order because he started near the bottom of the page, listing downwards, 94% Sat am; 89% Sun am; 81% Mon am; then he's made a red tick inside a square, followed by the words 'woolly pod', and 'grain legume'.

Next he's written 'bitter vetch' and 'toasted barley- a drench'.

And that's when he's realised he's got to the bottom of the page. So he's written his next recording of the moon's fullness above 89% full, and continued listing upwards from there, in red pen.

66% Tues pm; 57% Wed pm; 50% Thur am; 39% Fri am; 36% Fri pm.

Now we have another interruption. It seems to be a code and password for looking at an Orange photo someone sent him. Then above that, the words ' equally amphibious with the beaver'.

Oh, you've got to love him.

Onwards and upwards. 26% Sat pm; 20% Sun am; 16% Sun pm; 13% Mon am.

And that's his record, so far.

This morning he obviously thought he would commence drawing up a graph. But has Pliny heard of graph paper? No. He drew up his graph with a fish-topped lead pencil and a ruler. But he only used the ruler to draw the straight lines and not to measure the spaces between the lines.

He's sure to be pretty cross right now because even with his dodgy grid you can see that by plotting % of full against the days of the week for the last 13 days he's got himself a STRAIGHT LINE!

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Tour Eiffel en Construction 1888

Pliny had just changed into a clean pair of jeans. She was going out to a lecture on Snowball Earth, but not for 5 minutes. She thought she would relax. She launched herself backwards crosswise onto the bed, knees up and arms thrown back behind her head. At the same time her eye was arrested by the picture on the wall opposite. It was a framed photograph of the Eiffel Tower under construction in Paris in August 1888.

That, she thought, is an exact mirror of me.

Seconds later she couldn't quite reconcile her own uplifted knees and elbows with the singularity of the Eiffel Tower, which was half built and looked like knees or elbows but not both. Nevertheless she could not shake the feeling that it was the doubling effect that had provoked the metaphor, which had been instantaneous, and not constructed later at her leisure. It was, she decided, that both she and the Eiffel Tower appeared to be performing a backward somersault.

Friday, November 21, 2008

The salamander, the axolotl and the skink

What is a salamander? I asked myself. It occurred to me it might be something like an axolotl. I had no faith in this though, for most times I have thought something could be like an axolotl, it's turned out that it wasn't.

But an axolotl is a type of salamander, so I was right for once.

The fire salamander has golden stars all down its back.

I am reminded of the beautiful but lethargic skink that spent last Wednesday, and until Thursday afternoon, resting on the paving bricks outside our back door. She had orange markings down her back, looking something like a zipper. The markings were wider at the level of her back legs, and tapered to quite small at the end of her tail. Her eye glinted like the head of a pin.

She was seven bricks out from the back door, seven bricks in from the wall. That is, about a metre out from the corner where the door meets the wall. Her tail was slotted neatly into a groove between two bricks. Her head was at 5 minutes to the groove. During the course of her stay, her head moved to 10 minutes, then 13 minutes to the groove, but other than this she did not budge.

I became quite solicitous of her, stepping softly, asking her questions, waving my finger in front of her head. I told her I believed she might be dead.

On Thursday she disappeared. I'm still watching, but all I see are dead leaves, that look like her.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Testudo

Thankyou, I do indeed know the difference between tortoises and turtles. In the past I have been accused of ignorance in this matter, but that is explained by the fact that in Latin both creatures are given the name TESTUDO.

In fact, I have distinguished between 4 different types of tortoises, or turtles; those living on the land, those living in the sea, those who live in swamps and mud, and those who live in rivers. Furthermore I have listed the medicinal properties of them all. For example, the flesh of the land tortoise is useful for countering magic and poisons. The flesh of the sea tortoise mixed with that of frogs is an excellent remedy for injuries caused by the salamander.

I was amused to see that the volunteers scraping the tube worms from the tortoise shells were all ladies. It is to be hoped they were aware that the scrapings from the shells of the tortoise if taken in a drink are reputed to have an anti-aphrodisiac effect.

Wondrous to relate, but so we are led to believe by the testament of others.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Twenty Tortoises.

Without the wallabies! Pliny! Without the wallabies your story takes on a different significance. Let us imagine. You are driving through the countryside. Someone says "Look! Pademelons!". You see nothing but a few wild melons and assume wrongly that these are pademelons.

But it is your informant who is responsible for the error.

However, let me not be picky about that . Today my subject is the Twenty Tortoises.

I see from the newspaper that this week twenty tortoises were returned to the Goolwa wetlands after months of rehabilitation, during which volunteers cleaned infestations of potentially fatal tube worms from their shells. The incrusted tortoises looked like iced cakes, or sponges. The cleaned up tortoises looked like.....TURTLES!

Even Pliny the Elder knows the difference between tortoises and turtles.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Pademelon

Suppose, as you were driving through the countryside, someone were to point towards a passing paddock and say "Look! Pademelons!", and supposing further that in the paddock could be seen a scattering of what looked like small, round, wild, grey skinned melons as well as several small wallabies, would you not look at the melons?

And would you not wonder why the person with whom you were travelling had chosen to point out the melons when there were delightful small wallabies to be seen?

You would.

Unless you knew what a pademelon was.

Many years ago this exact thing happened to Pliny, albeit without the wallabies. He was reminded of it yesterday when 'pademelon' was the answer to one across in the Hard Crossword.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Humours, Passions and Tempers

Pliny has just finished her library book entitled Passions and Tempers - A History of the Humours, and returned it to the library.

How sanguine she felt to be shot of it. With melancholy she had plodded through its 300 pages reading every sentence twice. Her choler rose as she thought what else she could be reading. She decided she must be possessed of a phlegmatic temperament to read so doggedly a book she did not like.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Coffee

Pliny: I don't feel like blogging today.

Pliny the Elder: Leave it to me. Just give me a topic.

Pliny ( leafing idly through the newspaper) : Coffee.

Pliny the Elder: I know nothing of coffee.

Pliny: Coffee is a bitter tasting brown bean.

Pliny the Elder: A vetch! But you wrote of vetches yesterday. I shall write upon a related topic, that of Coughing.

Pliny ( coughing ) : Oh.... alright.

Pliny the Elder: There are many efficacious remedies for coughing. The first is to hang a bunch of pennyroyal in the room. The second is to smoke the leaves of coltsfoot. A third involves making an ointment out of marshmallow. A fourth is to spit in the mouth of a little frog climbing up a tree and then let him escape....

Pliny: Pliny!

Pliny the Elder: What?

Pliny: Well done.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Vetches

Pliny, Nostradamus and Pliny's mum went to the Willunga Farmers' Market yesterday. There were carrots, leeks, tomatoes, purple potatoes, venison sausages, herbs, spices, oranges, apples, pears, chutneys, olive oils, cheeses, breads, pizzas, cakes and lavender ice cream. There were no vetches.

Pliny was not disappointed. She had Googled vetches the day before and knew that they were not the sort of thing that people generally like to eat. They are mainly grown as food for animals and are a sort of semi toxic bean. People only eat them when there is nothing else to eat. They look a bit like lentils and taste bitter. You must boil them several times to leach out the toxicity.

Nevertheless Pliny is on the lookout for wild vetches wherever she goes. Walking beside the Onkaparinga River yesterday afternoon she thought she saw some hanging on a wire fence to dry. They were black, stiff and prickly and blowing in the wind like dead seaweed .

Friday, November 14, 2008

Moon Gadget 3

This is looking good for me, bad for Pliny the Elder. It is 5pm on Saturday afternoon and the moon is 94% of full. That means the percent of full is decreasing at an increasing rate. I shall say nothing for a few more days however.

Meanwhile I would like to make it clear that I know it is not standard practice in our country to use the term percent of full. My Moon Gadget must come from somewhere where it is.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Moon Gadget 2

Pliny the Elder is not impressed with my Moon Gadget. He wants to say something.

Pliny the Elder: In my Natural Histories can be found all that is known and needs to be known about the moon. I refer to the various phases, the tides, the relative size of oysters and other seafood at the time of the full moon, the cavortings of hares and the madness of men and women, not to mention the correct times for cutting the hair and nails, and for the planting of vetches. This Moon Gadget will tell you nothing of these. Furthermore any fool who knows anything about mathematics will tell you that the moon cannot be 100% of full one day and 99% of full the next.

Me: Ooh you ARE cross! But I admit I'm puzzled about that. If there are only 29.53 days approximately between full moons why is there only a 1% difference between yesterday and today? However I've only had my Moon Gadget for 5 days. I'm expecting all to become clear over the course of the month.

Pliny The Elder: Expect away.

Me: What are vetches?

Pliny the Elder: Google it.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Moon Gadget

Last week Pliny changed his home page from Google to iGoogle. This was because he wanted to use the iGoogle Translator to translate something from English into Greek. But the Translator didn't want to know. Pliny was about to switch back to Google when he saw the Moon Gadget.



Now Pliny is hooked on iGoogle. He chose a beautiful theme by Akira Ishigawa to decorate his home page. The theme is red, black and cream flowers that subtly change throughout the day. So subtly do they change that it was 3 days before Pliny noticed that they weren't always the same.



That was because his attention was focused rapturously on his Moon Gadget. The Moon Gadget tells Pliny exactly what phase the moon is in. For example today the moon is 100% of full. Yesterday it was 99% of full.



All Pliny has to do to see if this is true is wait till night time and go outside and look.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Chinese Chickens

Pliny's Chinese friend Li Feng ( not her real name ) ( well it is but Pliny has to call her ****y ) made a startling claim yesterday. It was, that Chinese chickens have harder bones that Australian chickens.

Do they really? asked Pliny.

Yes, replied Li Feng. I can't making CocaCola chicken because Australian chickens too soft.
Free range chickens too soft too. In China, the chicken bones are hard, and the skin very strong. It doesn't breaking, very nice. In here, the bones soft.

How do you making CocaCola Chicken? asked Pliny. ( Li Feng is teaching Pliny to speak English).

You pour one can CocaCola over the chicken, then, you cook in the oven a long time. My brother, in China, he make it, very nice.

Is it sweet ? asked Pliny.

No, said Li Feng. Not sweet.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Skinny earwig creature

Pliny was dismayed this morning to see one of those skinny earwig creatures dragging a large ball of fluff behind it across the kitchen floor. The skinny earwig creature had obviously not intended to become entangled in this way, and looked pathetically weary. Pliny was sufficiently moved to pick up a piece of stiff paper and encourage the skinny earwig creature on to the paper. Then he slid open the glass back door, which he had previously unlocked. He lowered the skinny earwig creature on to the paving bricks outside and watched as the skinny earwig creature dragged itself pathetically and wearily to where the pavers meet the wall. Then he went inside.

Several moments later the hypocrite Pliny looked out through the glass door, telling himself that if the skinny earwig creature was still out there on the paving bricks dragging itself along pathetically etcetera, he would do what he knew he should have done before, and try to detach the ball of fluff from the back legs of the skinny earwig creature so that it could continue to live its life unencumbered. After all, the fluff had no doubt resulted from Pliny's sewing efforts on the previous day.

But of course, the skinny earwig creature was gone.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Memory stick

Pliny the Elder heard a conversation between Nostradamus and Pliny yesterday.

Nostradamus: Where is your memory stick?

Pliny (going away and coming back): Here.

Pliny the Elder looked over Pliny' shoulder at the memory stick. It was silver at one end and blue at the other, and it was not pointy. He wondered how it worked.

Decrepitude

Can a living organism reach a certain degree of decrepitude and remain like that indefinitely?

Pliny thinks the answer is yes.

He has a vase of what used to be orange lilies on his windowsill. The orange petals dropped off one by one some weeks ago. The brown dustings from the anthers fell too. The stamens withered and turned to brittle threads. The leaves stiffened. The stigma remained fresh and green as waxy new marrows.

This sort of thing has happened on Pliny's watch before.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Blood

Last night we met a man who nose a lot about vegetables. O pardon the pun but as he was speaking to us his nose began to spurt blood. We pretended not to notice. His wife took up the conversation seamlessly.

Soon he composed himself and continued with his pet subject which was tomatoes.

Remember those wrinkly ones that used to taste so good ? he asked.

Mmmm, I said, but really I did not.

Friday, November 7, 2008

Syrinx

Pliny is at an art exhibition launch. After the speeches a young man plays the flute. The young man's hair swirls up and away from his head in a lyrical wave. Two tiny old ladies are standing in front of Pliny transfixed. The young man plays Syrinx, by Debussy. It is totally seductive. Pliny would clap as loudly as anyone, but he has a glass of white wine in one hand and a thick slice of cucumber wrapped in a white napkin in the other.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Millipede karma

When Pliny came home from shopping this afternoon she noticed above the front door a deceased millipede. It had obviously been there for quite some time. The millipede must have been trying to enter ( or leave, you couldn't tell ) the house when someone had shut the door, squashing one half of its body and trapping the rest. Half the body was flattened against the door frame, and the other half was mummified into a rising arch of pain.

This may have been why, when she was putting away some of Nostradamus's socks, and saw a live millipede crawling across the carpet, she picked it up and, juggling it all the way to the front door, tossed it caringly into the garden.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Bird prints

Pliny was looking at a blog he follows called Northumberland360.

He was entranced by some photos of bird footprints that were put up today.

He looked at the bird footprints for a very long time.

He was thinking about bird footprints and how they might be interpreted in various ways.

For example one might try to imagine what sort of bird had made them, a curlew or an oyster catcher, and where it had been going or where it had been.

Or whether the prints had been made by more than one curlew or oyster catcher, whose paths had crossed.

OR, seeing that there wasn't really a lot to go on, three fifths of a starfish or a lemon blossom, and a stick.......

Perhaps, he thought, I have been looking at these footprints for too long.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Natura atrox

We Plinies all liked the stunning photo in the paper this morning, of a sulphur-crested cockatoo being eaten alive by a python in a North Queensland tree.

Pliny the Elder was inspired to write a poem. He wrote it in Latin, so I will give you a literal translation.

Natura atrox sed pulchra est
Plumae avis periendae
Ex oro pythonis prominent
Fax vivenda et morienda
Pictori ingenium illuminans.

Nature is cruel but beautiful
The feathers of the disappearing bird
From the mouth of the python stick out
A living dying torch
Lighting the spirit of the artist.

Who knew Pliny was a poet??

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Heat flows

It was hot when Pliny and Nostradamus arrived at Townsend Park. Hot hot. Pliny's legs were pink. She had to have a cool drink.

Nostradamus generated more heat as he dutifully filed the ends of 2 bolts that were sticking out and ruining Pliny's mum's new mattress, a legacy of the time that Niloc ( not his real name) did a dodgy job of setting up the bedhead 20 years ago. Then he had to have a cool drink.

By the time the 3 of them were ready to go for a walk along the esplanade a cold change had blown in. When they got back they had to have a hot drink.

At dinner time they had a heated exchange about Barack Obama's aunt, while having a cold drink. After dinner they had a hot drink.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Flamingo

Pliny would like to state that his last blog was written on Saturday afternoon, not Friday just before midnight.

And now he turns to the subject of today, ( Sunday) which is the Flamingo.

All Adelaideans have been outraged recently at the cruel bashing by teenage boys of an 80 year old Flamingo at the Adelaide Zoo. Fortunately one does not become an 80 year old Flamingo without being very tough indeed, and our one-eyed Flamingo is now back in its pen with its long time Flamingo friend, and all is well at the Zoo.

Pliny the Elder is hooting at this story. What were they doing keeping a Flamingo that long? he asks. Don't they know that Flamingo makes a very nice stew when cooked with dates and coriander?

Friday, October 31, 2008

Blobby thing

Pliny and Nostradamus walked from Semaphore South to Largs this afternoon. When Pliny's eye was on the horizon, Nostradamus's was on the sand.

Pliny saw the wide blue sky, 49 yachts, the amethyst sea, 9 children playing in the shallows, copper coloured wavelets, heaps of tealeaf seaweed, weeping sands, her own feet.

Nostradamus saw a blobby thing on the sand, grey and dotted like a beche de mer. He saw hundreds of transparent kidneyshaped jellyfish at the water's edge. Pliny has no doubt that he saw many other things as well.

Bee Jesus

Pliny went to a Lunch Hour Concert this afternoon, with his mum. They heard Messiaen's "In praise of the eternity of Jesus" and "In praise of the immortality of Jesus".

Pliny wondered how the eternity of Jesus could be different from the immortality of Jesus, and why either of these things needed praising.

While he was pondering these ineffable mysteries, a bee came and sat on his head. At least he thought it was a bee, but it was a fly.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Marigolds

More evidence to support the Orange hypothesis.

1.Nostradamus and I drank apricot and lemon juice on Wednesday evening.

2. We both noticed , as we were returning our glasses to the kitchen , that the not yet disposed of washing up water from dinner time was ringed with orange tomato paste scum.

3. I noticed it again when I tipped it out next morning onto the marigolds.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

YouTube

So Pliny has discovered YouTube! I do feel bad now. Annoyed too. He's only just got off the computer after spending all morning looking at YouTube bugs. He was particularly taken with a red and yellow bug that 2 Spanish motor cyclists had filmed in the middle of the road eating another bug exactly like itself. Exactly, except that it was dead and more than half eaten, and could easily have been a piece of bread. But that's YouTube, as Pliny will have to learn.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Natural Wonders

In the days when I was writing my Natural Histories, we had no knowledge of the Galapagos Islands, and so I was inspired, when I saw a program on the television recently about these islands, to visit the Library and find out more about the wonderful birds, animals, fish, rocks and volcanoes of these regions that were hitherto unknown to me.

I little suspected the wonders that awaited me at the Library.

The Librarian introduced me to the internet and showed me how to seek out information by merely typing a few keywords into a line at the top of the screen. I duly entered the word Galapagos and added for further exactitude the letters BBC.

To my surprise I was led to a site that showed me identical versions of the opening scenes from the television program with alternative musical accompaniments. It seems there had been a competition to choose the most suitable music and both the winner and one of the losers had posted their entries thereon.

From there my eye was led to a sidebar with the intriguing title of "Self Inflating Fish!". I clicked on it and was delighted when I was shown an otter seeking to bite into a puffer fish which immediately inflated itself to the size of a man's head and floated tantalisingly ahead of the otter who was unable to get his teeth into the poisonous fish.

Next I sought to view a site that promised to show me The World's Weirdest Animals ,and indeed, many of these were astonishing, including a half horse, a half crocodile-half man, and a fish with the face of a woman.

But not so astonishing as the creatures on the next site I visited, which was called Plants with Eyes. These plants were clearly shown to have functioning eyes, opening and shutting and in some cases altering size. I cannot but believe this to be a true depiction of a natural marvel of which I was entirely ignorant before. They also go by another name which is Anime.

Gaius Plinius Secundus

Monday, October 27, 2008

He seems a little glum

Pliny the Elder has been rather quiet lately, ever since that meeting. I wish I hadn't mentioned 79BC, particularly as I got the date wrong. It was 79AD that he died in the volcano. So perhaps it was mere bravado that he pretended not to know what I was talking about.

To cheer him up I asked him if he would like to write tomorrow's blog and he looked really happy after that. He's gone to the Library to do some research. I didn't like to tell him about the internet search engines. What a disaster if he should accidentally google himself.

Pliny's orange hypothesis

Pliny's mum had not paid enough attention to the colour component of the Sunday dinner. With bright orange sweet and sour chicken, and extra carrots, she served large glasses of orange juice, followed by tinned peach dessert.

Later they were watching a program about the Galapagos Islands on TV. The iguanas were orangey-brown and the sunset was golden-red. Even the joints of the tiny underwater seaspiders looked like miniature glowing apricots. And there were volcanoes, all around.

Pliny began to formulate an hypothesis, that the colour of ingested food might be related to the perception of colour immediately afterwards. She would have liked to test her hypothesis but she needed someone not to have eaten the dinner.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Cataclysm

On Sunday Pliny went to Brighton. He was astonished to see, lining the shore, stones the size of small potatoes, to each of which was attached a shock of bright green seaweed hair.

He concluded these were heads of small mermaids, who had suffered cataclysmic fright.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Pliny questions himself

Pliny: I seem to be three different people here.

Pliny: Yes.

Pliny: So do I.

Pliny: I need to sort myself out.

Pliny: Sometimes I'm Lynn, a woman living in Australia, who calls herself Pliny.

Pliny: Yes, And sometimes I'm her alter ego, whom she calls Pliny.

Pliny: Whom, I like that. And sometimes I'm the real Pliny, the well-known natural historian from antiquity.

Pliny: Oh! Didn't you die in 79BC when Mt Vesuvius erupted ?

Pliny: 79BC ! What's that?

Pliny: Perhaps it was the name of your little boat. You saved people in it.

Pliny: Did I ? Anyway, are we less confused?

Pliny: Yes

Friday, October 24, 2008

Metamorphosis.

This afternoon I went to Henley Beach. I observed on the sand a seaweed collection in the shape of a crab. Pliny thinks this will become a real living crab when the tide comes in.

I saw a shell I liked. It was yellow, grey, white. Pliny would have picked it up. I decided to pick it up on the way back if it was still there. It wasn't. Pliny was sad.

Pliny was walking with Nostradamus, who was looking at the sky. " Is that a Virgin or a Quantas?" asked Nostradamus. " Virgins are red", replied Pliny.

What deserves to be written

Pliny went to a Lunch Hour Concert yesterday. It was an organ recital. She expected to be looking at the organ, listening to the music, idly counting the pipes. But there were 2 screens on the stage, showing the hands and feet of the organist. Pliny was entranced by the dancing feet of the organist, in their shiny black shoes. They hardly seemed to touch the pedals, and yet they produced the heaviest notes.