May the Dung Beetle RIP

Anyone who is observant in the garden has met the darling dung beetle. He’s the fascinating little dark gray guy who plays in a mound of dung… any sort will do. He works it as though it is an important assignment pushing this way and that. And when he has it ‘just so’ in a small ball, he stands on his head and begins to roll his creation using his hind legs to balance the whole thing as it rolls. Sometimes they work as a crew, with many little beetles hard at work.

Unfortunately, this incredibly useful little beetle has met his demise through the use of Ivomec, a highly successful internal and external parasite control for cattle. “Discovered and developed by scientists from Merck Research Laboratories, IVOMEC Pour-On contains ivermectin, a unique chemical entity“ (Their qoute) Yes indeed… and the poisoned parasites are excreted and the poor dung beetle, just doing his job, is poisoned as well.

As we say farewell to yet another important life form living on our Planet, the dung beetle needs the recognition he deserves so perhaps reviewing his job is in order. These little beetles reside in pastures and clean the waste droppings by rolling them and burying them in tunnels six inches deep. The tunnels create greater water retention in the fields and improve root and soil aeration. Besides being fertilized, the pasture is clean which reduces the gastrointestinal parasite larvae which may be ingested by the cattle, excreted by the cattle then ingested again in an ongoing life cycle. By rapidly cleaning the pasture, dung beetles reduce the numbers of flies, whom we all know adore manure as a nesting site for their nasty youngsters, the maggots.

I had noted the past few years, the pastures had begun look like cattle ghettos… as though the sanitation crews had abandoned them. Unfortunately the sanitation crews have been killed.

The dung beetle is a true loss… to a degree of which only time can tell. I was very fond of them and spent a good part of my childhood and adulthood stopping to watch them work, enamored and fascinated by their duty and obligation. May our little beetles RIP… and may Merck be ashamed for not doing their homework!

Please do not use this product in any form. Please let me know of sightings of the beetle

Dazzling Dahlias

 

As with all flowers there is a rich and colorful history surrounding the Dahlia, which originated in Mexico where it was cultivated by Aztec empire. Amid little fanfare, the first Dahlias were introduced to Europe by the first conquistadores, who mistook the tubers for potatoes. However in 1769 tubers were sent to the Royal Botanic Garden in Madrid by the director of Mexico’s Botanical Garden and from this original stock three distinct species were developed which are still part of Dahlias today.

In 1872 J.T. Van der Berg of the Netherlands was sent a parcel of plants from a friend in Mexico. Though most of the plants were badly rotten he was able to salvage a piece of root that he tended until it grew into a healthy plant. He made cuttings from the plant during the winter of 1872-1873 and we have him to thank for the deep red Dahlias. Van der Berg named his darling Dahlia juarezii to honor the deceased Mexican President Benito Juarez.

The petals of his glorious Dahlia rolled backwards, rather than forward, and this form is believed to be the original, existing in Mexico before disappearing for hundreds of years. Nurserymen in Europe crossbred this plant with others and the results are our Dahlias of today.

Nurserymen, who seemed a hot-headed several centuries ago, verbally fought over who discovered, hybridized, and distributed the first Dahlias… the list is endless. In 1846, so popular were Dahlias, that the Caledonia Horticultural Society of  Edinburgh offered a 2,000 pound prize to the person who was able to cultivate a ‘blue‘…  a fete which has never been accomplished.

Dahlias fleshy root, prized for intense mocha flavor, is still roasted and used to flavor beverages in Central America. In Europe, prior to the discovery of insulin in 1923, patients were often given a substance derived from a form of fruit sugar extracted from the Dahlia to control diabetes.

The Dahlia likes sunshine will faithfully bloom for most of the season reaching their zenith in August. To assure constant blooms they must be dead headed, which is the process of removing spent blossoms. Today’s Dahlias run the entire spectrum of color, bloom size, and shape. From the darling miniature Humpty Dumpty to the dazzling giants with their sultry tangle of fantastic foliage and giant six inch blooms, there is a Dahlia to fit your garden needs… and now is the time to plant one.

 

* My Dahlia that wintered over here is over 7 feet tall!

The Antique Chambers Stove and the Stranger

The stove looked like mine...

Easter week about 20 years ago, I decided to advertise a Chambers stove I had purchased at auction for $3. No one had placed a bid because no one wanted to move it and Michael wasn’t pleased I bought it. It was residing in the hay barn across the creek and so it was time it had a home. I figured $125 would be a dandy return on my investment so I advertised it in the Daily Oklahoma.

I got a call on Saturday and a lady wanted to come see it on Easter Sunday if it was not too inconvenient. Dinner here was scheduled for one thirty so I told her anytime before noon would be fine.

Virginia arrived and she was a sweet lady in her early fifties, a grand motherly type and as we walked to the hay barn I heard her rather sad story. Her husband of 20 odd years had left her for a younger woman and she was attempting to put her life back together. They were childless, her mother had passed and she was alone but she had bought a small house near OCU where she could see the bustle of students everyday. She wanted the stove since she had grown up with one exactly like it in happier times and she said she would arrange to pick it up later in the week. 

Wow… I had not expected such a story and it pulled at my heart strings. I couldn’t fix her life, but I could fix her Easter so of course I invited her to stay for dinner. Virginia hesitated for a minute so I suggested I could certainly use the help. (The children were busy swinging from tree tops after way too much sugar and so they needed to stay outside!)

She accepted and got into the swing of things immediately as she followed me into the kitchen. We got out the Haviland and she set the table; we whipped mashed potatoes, buttered rolls, and filled Grandmother’s crystal water glasses. We sliced the roast, tossed the salad and by the time dinner rolled around, we were fast friends. I settled her next to me at the table and we had a lovely meal. Virginia joined the conversations and laughed at the delightful antics of the children…  she enjoyed herself immensely.

 
As Michael, the children and I walked her to the gate and waved goodbye, the kids looked at me quizzically and asked, “Mom, who was that lady?” 

BTW: I gave her the stove...