Bubble Boba Tea Café

I read Peter Wohlleben’s The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate - Discoveries from a Secret World (translated from German by Jane Billinghurst) as a sort of follow-up to Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass. Although they are coming at the question from different angles, both books make the same point that plants are, like, alive??

On the one hand, this is something that I think most people vaguely know. But it’s still startling to discover the plants communicate with each other through their root systems, and can send sugars through those roots so effectively that other trees can keep a tree trunk alive for centuries after its crown has died.

But this only occurs in trees in naturally occurring forests. When humans dig trees up to transport them and plant them where we want them, we sever the root tips, and trees never recover the ability to interface with other roots - even if there are other trees available to commune with, which there often aren’t if a tree is planted, for instance, alongside a street.

This helps explain why trees along streets and trees in tree plantations tend to be, in tree terms, quite short-lived. Also, Wohlleben points out, the qualities that humans consider “good” in trees are usually not the qualities that are actually good for trees. For instance, humans like to see trees growing fast, and sometimes point at the quick rate of growth in spruce plantations as proof that these plantations are actually good for trees.

But in fact fast growth is dangerous for a tree, as it creates structural weaknesses that will often kill a tree when it’s around a hundred years old. For human foresters, this is fine, as that’s about as long as we let plantation trees grow anyway, but from a tree’s perspective, 100 years is not a long time at all.

In Wohlleben’s view, humans struggle to understand trees because their perspective is so alien to ours. They’re stationary. Their senses and methods of communication are so different from ours that we struggle to believe trees have senses at all. (“In Wohlleben’s analysis, it’s almost as if trees have feelings and character,” says the incredulous author of this Guardian article, apparently unable to grasp that Wohlleben is arguing that trees DO have feelings, no “almost” about it.)

And, as Upton Sinclair pointed out, “It is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends upon his not understanding it.” The modern industrial lifestyle depends on seeing not just trees but the entirety of the natural world as raw materials we can dispose of as we will. Now, of course we’re capable of accepting that trees have feelings and then blithely refusing to change our behavior on account of that fact: after all, we do this with other humans all the time. But why bother embracing extra cognitive dissonance? It’s just easier all around if we continue to see trees as technically animate but more or less inert objects.

When Joann’s closed (RIP), I decided to take advantage of the sale prices to get supplies for a couple of hobbies I’ve long meant to try: a crochet hook and yarn to crochet a scarf, and a cross-stitch kit featuring a motel on Route 66.

I still haven’t attempted the scarf, but I started the cross-stitch in July and I really took to it! I’ve already finished the Route 66 cross-stitch kit, acquired a second cross-stitch kit (from Michael’s, alas) featuring a handsome coffee cup, and spent a delightful afternoon at the library browsing cross-stitch books until I finally winnowed my selection down to Linday Swearingen’s Creepy Cross-Stitch, from which I have selected a favorite pattern that I am anxious to start except I’ve already started the coffee cup so I need to finish that first…

I’ve decided that the path of wisdom is to do one cross-stitch at a time, as the other pathway lies littered with unfinished cross-stitches. Not sure how to balance this with other potential fiber arts? As well as the crochet supplies, I’ve also gotten my little paws on a simple embroidery kit…

However, I remind myself that one does not take to every hobby. For instance, I’ve done some paper-crafting with my friend Christina (who is always happy to set us loose on her paper stash, as getting rid of some paper means she can buy MORE paper), and although I always enjoy our card-making sessions, I’ve never felt the urge to go into card-making myself.

The “one project at a time” principle is bearing fruit in another direction as well. Normally when I get a new cookbook, I mark every recipe I want to try and then make none of them, but this birthday a friend gave me Elizabeth Alston’s Biscuits and Scones, and I put a bookmark at the mushroom pie recipe, and made it… and then the herb scone recipe, and made it… and then the tattie scones recipe, which I made as well… and it’s been just a month since I got the book! (My bookmark now rests at the recipe for apricot swirl scones.)

Now of course it helps that this is just the kind of baking I like, but still, it’s rather magical to find myself actually trying these new recipes. Amazing!

Other hobby news. The garden does not perhaps rise to the level of a hobby yet, although it certainly ought to, as there’s some serious weeding that needs to be done. Sorry to report the tragic news that last week the condo mowers felled my thyme and my cherry tomato plant. The one that had actual baby tomatolets on it! The survivor has at last put forth a baby tomato of its own, but alas, alas, I mourn the tomatoes cut down in their prime…

In keeping with this newfound “one project at a time” theory, I am winnowing down my reading projects. There are currently four, but two of them are close to completion:

Newbery books (2 left!)
Postcard books (3 left!) (one of my friends gave me a set of twelve Famous Author postcards and I decided to read a book for each author. Actually, this coincided with my L. M. Montgomery reread, and so I ended up reading all of L. M. Montgomery… and there was another postcard for Jane Austen, and I had been meaning to finish up my Jane Austen reread… and Charlotte Bronte had a card, and, well, a Charlotte Bronte reread had ALSO been on my list… but then I managed to shake free of this “complete works” business, or else I would probably still be working my way through the complete works of Frances Hodgson Burnett, with a weary eye on the complete works of William Shakespeare, Jules Verne, and Charles Dickens.)

This leaves me with two projects. First, the Unread Bookshelf, and if I continue with my current pace of one book a month, that will be complete by 2027.

Second, when I was making my booklog, I noticed how many authors were on there whose works I had long meant to revisit. “What if,” I pondered, “I went through a year and wrote down each author I wanted to revisit, and then read one book by each author? And at the end moved onto the next year?”

I started in 2012 (that was the first year I had complete-enough records to make a book log possible) and have now reached 2014, so the great Saunter through the Book Log will keep me busy for a while.

Unfortunately for my hope of getting down to a single reading project, I’ve also been vaguely planning a readthrough of E. M. Forster’s novels (except Maurice, I did it one and three-quarters times and that was enough), and I don’t particularly want to put that off until 2027 or later… However that IS just five books (plus maybe some of his short stories, but those are strictly optional!) so perhaps I could sneak it in…

But not till I’ve finished the Newberys and the postcard books!

Earlier this year, I read Max in the House of Spies, a novel about a twelve-year-old German Jewish refugee who escapes Germany on a kindertransport… then does everything in his power to get sent back as a spy so he can try to save his parents.

I had a number of criticisms of Max in the House of Spies. (You can also read skygiants wrote a review here.) My biggest criticism was that it saddles Max with a dybbuk and a kobold on his shoulders, who serve no particular purpose but to Statler and Waldorf about how recruiting a twelve-year-old spy is in fact a terrible idea. Of course they have a point, but let’s be real, when I picked up a book about a twelve-year-old spy, I did it in the spirit of “Damn the realism! Full spy ahead!”

And when Max in the Land of Lies begins, we are indeed going full spy ahead!

( Spoilers )