Showing posts with label marmot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marmot. Show all posts

Monday, February 2, 2015

Love and rodents

One of best surprising, "but wait, there's more" benefits of marriage to The Mister is now being related to My Brother-in-Law and My Sister-in-Law*.

Not only are BiL and SiL good cooks, good conversationalists, good at playing with nephews, and generally people with whom we enjoy spending time, they also are fabulous gift givers.  Case in point: this year's Christmas gift from the Massif Central in France.  Yep, they managed to find groundhog (or at least Alpine Marmot) hot pads.  How do they know me so well?  How did I get so lucky?

The convention of plush marmots including (from left to right): Phil (groundhog, Marmota monax), Marmie (alpine marmot, Marmota marmota who spent the four years we lived in West Virginia stuffed in a vase), the yellow-belly (Marmota flaviventris) and the Vancouver Island (Marmota vancouverensis) staring at the new hot pads in my living room this morning partially compensated for my sadness at not getting it together to throw a groundhog party or send groundhog cards this year.  Driving to the next town to eat sausage and pancakes for a groundhog dinner then made my day.

Celebrate rodents and spring, wherever you may be.
Happy Groundhog Day!


*My Parents-in-Law are also lovely people with whom I like spending time, but I do not consider that a surprising bonus, as I consider "reasonable chance of getting along with in-laws" a valid criterion when considering potential mates.


    

Friday, July 18, 2008

Wife Like a Marmot, II

Since Mr. Splashy Pants erased this review her first night here, I'll start over discussing Three Cups of Tea.

"She was very beautiful," he said as they lay looking at a Milky Way that was so
dense it covered them like a shawl. "Her face was small, like Jahan's, and she
was always popping up an laughing, like a marmot."

So Pakistani Balti man Twaha describes his first wife on page 120 of Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin's extraordinary Three Cups of Tea. The book, describing how a failed attempt on K2 led to the Central Asia Institute and its attempts to build schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan, is not about marmots, or rodents of any kind. However, like Nick Hornsby's discussion of sugar mice in Fever Pitch, this line spoke to me. It takes a certain amount of experience with marmots to understand what a great compliment it is, but anyone reading can grasp its sweetness.

I've spent a fair amount of time in the last month trying to figure out what makes this book great. My father hurried and finished it while he was here in May so that he could leave the book with me (my mother had already read and recommended it). The Mister picked it up the day after I finished it and read the first half in one sitting. The Mister's father read it over two days while he was here. The Mister's father was particularly interested in the descriptions of Pakistan. He had been there in the 1980s and found the portrayal of the landscape and the people consistent with his experience. None of the rest of us have any experience in the area. None of us know enough about the climbing community to know anybody whose name was dropped* except Sir Edmund Hillary. The book is not a "feel good" book. The plot, as it were, involves lots of bureaucratic and logistic frustrations, which generally don't make for a page turner. Yet somehow it is a great book.

I credit author David Oliver Relin for the book's greatness. Greg Mortenson, the book's subject, has done fantastic stuff, but writing a biographical call-to-action that doesn't end up beatifying the subject, preaching, or just becoming boring, takes great literary talent. Relin works wonders with Mortenson's story without making a reader notice the writing at all. A great feat.

Plot wise, I would have liked this book far more if it didn't need to bring up 9/11, the Taliban and the invasion of Afghanistan. This speaks more to my desire to wish away the last eight years of US history than any legitimate criticism of the book. Of course, I also know a book about building schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan would never have been written without the current terrorist angle. In any case, don't expect many marmots, but do read this book.

*I've come to realize that knowing names of food writers and a few gardeners can make you feel like an insider when reading Calvin Trillin or Ruth Reichl and like an outsider when trying to read about climbing or Arsenal football or discuss anything with anyone other than my mother.

**More money goes to Central Asia Institute if you buy Three Cups of Tea from the official website I've linked. I'll also happily pass around this well-read copy.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Giving the Gift of Rodentia

During the rodent year I saw many rodents. I read books with rodent characters. I watched movies with rodent sidekicks. I traveled with a stuffed prairie dog and have a stuffed beaver, a stuffed rat and 3 stuffed marmots around my house. I did not, however, eat many rodent things or wear many rodents. Family members helped diminish this deficiency with Christmas gifts.

Prairie Quilter gave me a tasteful new mouse barrette which I'm likely to sport tomorrow for the first day of Vertebrate Zoology. (Thanks Prairie Quilter!)

My parents gifted the Mister with some Marmot Salve from Austria. Yes, Murmeltier Salbe is made from marmot oil. No, I'm not sure exactly how one acquires marmot oil, but I am fairly certain that live marmots don't surrender, or render, their fat willingly. A gift that just falls on the cool side of the creepy-cool divide is made all the more amusing because this is not the first gift of genuine Austrian marmot salve my household has been given (my brother's family also travels frequently to Austria) and the price sticker was still attached. I find it somewhat gratifying that marmots don't part with their oil for some cheap potion but horrifying that my parents paid that for goofy marmot salve.
In any case, marmot salve is a white cream with a strong smell of menthol (although it also contains a huge number of alpine herbs including gaultheria and gentian) that is supposed to ease aching joints and cure all ills. It does tingle refreshingly when applied to sore backs. (Thanks Mom, Dad, J+C!)

The true intellectual siblings-in-law found sugar mice for me in St. Louis. Unlike those pictured from floo network, my sugar mice are on sticks, like little pink lollipops, rather than with string tails, which seems to be the thing in the UK based on my quick web-search. In any case, sugar mice are just that: sugar held together in the form of a mouse with minimal additional flavoring. As one might expect, sugar mice taste horrible. I think I report this without offending my siblings-in-law because my siblings-in-law are not stupid. One look at the list of sugar mice ingredients and it's obvious that the are not going to be mouth-watering confectionery. Of course, my siblings-in-law would also know that I would desperately want to try a sugar mouse, if I had known they existed and I'm very excited that I did. (Thanks sibs-in-law!) I just need to figure out what to do with the rest. Perhaps I shall use them to sweeten tea?

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Has Marmie become a mermet?

A year and four days after we moved in, the Mister and I finished unpacking our boxes. This fantastic-to-be finished-with task was marred by an element of sadness, Marmie is missing.

Marmie is a stuffed* European marmot I acquired in Zermatt, Switzerland in 1984. Not only has Marmie been a dear companion for over 20 years, he has also served in the important role of groundhog to determine the winner of the "pin the shadow on the groundhog" game at Groundhog parties, and is rather cute, if I say so myself.

A mermet is like an marmot, only invisibler. Mermie is a mermet that my brother acquired at the same time I acquired marmie. Mermie has long been known to lead Marmie into mischief.** The Mister thinks that Marmie is on vacation in Europe visiting relatives. I think that Marmie may have become a mermot. And there is that dreadful third possibility: there is another box somewhere still to be unpacked.

*stuffed toy, not taxidermy
**while a mischievous member of a fictitious species that is invisible-er than the real species sounds like something that the Mister would come up with, this was entirely the doing of my brother.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

What the marmot saw


From his rock in Custer State Park, this yellow-bellied marmot seemed fairly unphased by his view. We'd driven by the area at noon and it wasn't burning. Coming back from Wind Cave at 3:30, it was impressive. Recent reports suggest the fire has consumed 22,000 acres and is half contained.

Monday, April 23, 2007

Weekend of Many Rodents

Friday night the Mister saw "Our Marmot" who apparently survived last week's flood (all of the visible groundhog holes were far under water). Saturday we went botanizing to look at spring ephemerals (The flowers were gorgeous. I'm returning with my botany students in tow on Wednesday and hope to take photographs), and saw a groundhog near the interstate, a very fat fox squirrel with quite the foxy tail at Core Arboretum and an eastern chipmunk at the university forest. Sunday night we saw the beaver, suggesting that he, too survived the flood, although I was less concerned about him.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

The Marmot is Back


We spotted the woodchuck (Marmota monax) that lives by our creek yesterday. We hadn't seen "our marmot" since October (when this photo was taken) so we were unsure as to Mr. Marmot's success in hibernating. We only caught a glimpse, but it seems our marmot is alive and well and anxious to move under the deck when the Mister builds it someday. Hooray!