Monday 28 October 2019

The bodacious, rosaceous, loquacious loquat.

I haven't read a Reader's Digest in a very long time, but I think it was in that magazine that I remember seeing the feature called, It Pays to Increase Your Word Power. 

I inform you of that fact because I know that the title of this post is a bit extreme. It was that magazine that really caused me to get carried away. 

My title for today's post was first written as, The Loquat. Simple and unadorned. It's really quite a modest little fruit after all.  Then, I must have suffered a flashback to my Reader's Digest days, and thought that loquacious would be the perfect 'adjective', a word naming an attribute of a noun, for loquat.  It even kind of looks like it, right? The fact that 'loquacious' means one who is excessively talkative stopped me for a moment, but then I considered. Look at how excessively fruited that tree is. People are loquacious when they talk too much and that loquat tree, not given to talking at all of course, in my opinion can be considered loquacious when it demonstrates unrestrained fruiting. You have to admit it.  Look down there at the first two pictures. That tree just kept going on, and on, and on, once it started fruiting. You couldn't turn the darn thing off.  

A fine looking tree.



I'd call that 'prolific,' producing much fruit or foliage, wouldn't you?  


Then 'bodaceous', meaning excellent, admirable, attractivecame to mind for the title because it rhymes and does describe the tree, and 'rosaceous' popped up because the locquat is scientifically classed as a member of the family Rosaceae. I couldn't possibly not use such an obvious choice. And it rhymes besides! How often does such a good word come along? 

So, now you understand why an over-the-top title for a really simple topic assaulted you when you clicked on this blog today. That's just the way it happened, and you'll just have to try to put it behind you as I tell you about how I 'discovered' this 'new' fruit.  

For the past seven years, I've been walking past a tree in a yard along Sturges Road. Early on I noticed that it would bear lots of little yellow fruit in early spring. Someone, when I asked them about this tree, said they thought it was poisonous.  That put me off of course, but I couldn't help wish, since the tree produced such an abundant crop, that the fruit was in fact, edible.  

Turns out that it is. I finally picked one of the fruits a few days ago, did a bunch of research on line and discovered that it was almost certainly, a loquat. 

This morning, Oct. 18, 2019, I stopped at the tree's house and asked the guy who answered the door if the tree in his yard was a loquat. He verified that it was. I then asked him, pulling out a $10 bill to prove my worth, if he would allow me to pick some of them. He said, "Come with me."

He showed me how to judge the ripeness of the fruit and pointed out that only a few had begun to show ripeness. We each sampled a few and although I thought even those that were not fully ripe tasted pretty good, he insisted that only ripe ones were acceptable for picking. He told me to come back in a few days and come up to the house. "We'll see how they look," he said.  

Well, he's the boss. He seems to want to control the picking of his tree, which certainly makes sense. The thing is, I've never noticed that he ever harvested his tree in the past. That was one reason why I thought that it may very well be poisonous. I watched the birds gobbling most of the fruit, but that's no indication that humans can do the same.  

I read that loquats are not likely to be found in any store. They 'oxidize,' combine chemically with oxygen, so they turn brown and look less appealing almost as quickly as they're cut. 



The skins are tough, the seeds are large and it has some internal 'membranes' a thin layer of tissue acting as a partition as well, so there's not a lot to eat in each of them. A little bit of pulp. The juice though is plentiful, mildly tart and pleasant. The encyclopedia says it tastes like mangoes. Maybe, a little.   
(I cut the one on the right first and the one of the left immediately afterwards. I then picked up my camera. You can see the brown already well started on the both sections of the one on the right and a hint of brown on the bottom section of the one on the left. That's really fast oxidizing) 


I stopped by his house twice during the next week and was disappointed. He wasn't home. Third time lucky they say though, and it proved to be accurate in my case as well. I stopped by at about 10 a.m. yesterday morning (10/24/19) and he looked like he had just rolled out of bed when he answered the door. He didn't want to come outside this time. He just pointed me toward the tree and said, "help yourself."  He also asked me if I'd like a seedling. I sure would. Today, 10/25, I picked it up after shopping. What a great guy.  
 This is the fruit I picked. The skins look pretty beat up, but that didn't appear to affect the fruit inside. I think it's that oxidation thing going on, even on the skin.  


And it's not too surprising that the juice is brown. 
The juice I made reminds me a little of pear nectar, both in texture and flavor.  I had picked some dead ripe ones and mixed in some less ripe as well so that I'd have a range of tartness.  The juice does not remind me at all of mangoes. I saw various videos on Youtube that suggested adding lemon juice, water, sugar and salt to the loquat juice. I added nothing at all and think it is very drinkable just as it is.  



Loquat seedling. 

Eaten fresh, these are not the most delicious things ever.  And they take some work to make the juice. The seeds, which have toxins in them, must be taken out before processing and that is time consuming. I think that it would be nice to keep the tree I grow on the small side. Prune it heavily so we don't have bushels of these things to deal with. I'd like just a bit of juice each spring... I just read about growing them in containers. That might be the way to go. 

Well, that does it for this post. I hope you enjoyed it. Maybe it got a little long. You might have preferred the 'condensed,' made more concise, version, but you know, it pays to increase your word power. 

My family knows that one of my favourite forms of poetry is the limerick. Here's one about my new fruit, the loquat. 

I just ate a fruit called a loquat, 
Don't think it was poison, sure hope not.
It was little and yellow,
Tasted tart but was mellow,
I liked it yes but, not a whole lot.                                                        -djf

Wednesday 23 October 2019

Long Bay Beach, part two

We continue our day at Long Bay Beach...


 Looking north east. 



 This is the north end.



 None came down while I was there.





 This next series of pictures is all about interesting rocks.







 I'm standing on the headland at the north end of Long Bay Beach. I look around the corner and see another short beach and a further headland. I wish I could keep exploring and discovering what is around the next outcropping, and the next.  



 It's time though to head back toward Allie and the boys and Jeanne. This is looking south. 




I'm nearly back to where Allie and the boys are waiting for Jeanne and I. They want milkshakes it turns out....off we go.  




As we drive home we come over the crest of a hill and look what we see.  Rangitoto sits about 2.4 miles off shore in the Pacific. I have to pinch myself sometimes. 





A little closer look. I'm awestruck.       -djf

Saturday 19 October 2019

Long Bay Beach, part one

Allie announced to us this morning that after lunch, we had to make the most of the day and go...somewhere.  Long Bay beach was decided on. It's been ages since we were all here together. The last time, we got hung up in the parking lot for 45 minutes as the boys played with the resident ducks. 

Today, they were nowhere in sight and I doubt that the boys would have been as interested even if they had been. We headed straight for the beach.  


I always feel excitement when we arrive at any beach.  They have often laid out treasures for me to find. Just like an Easter egg hunt except that what I pick up is always full of sand and might smell funny.    




 I'm thankful that Jeanne is up and around again. She is treating her knee with great care.




It's just a bit chilly today when the sun is hidden.  Not too bad though.




That's right, spread your wings and bask in the sun. 





They're looking for crab's. 




I'm looking at rocks. 
If I were really rich, I'd hire a geologist to come along when we go to the beach. 





This shot shows how some of the rock is eroding and the shapes being produced.




What would it be like to live up there? 

"Ahh, mum, can't we put up the Slip N Slide in the yard again? Please? 
We'll be more careful. Billy wasn't hurt that bad. The trees stopped him half way down. 

Come on mum, we'll face it nice and safe this time, toward the street. Okay?"   




Today's Summit Acres healthy-living tip,

Never mow your lawn while intoxicated. 





No, this isn't Bodega Bay ( Location for The Birds, Alfred Hichcock) 
There is a guy feeding bread up on the dune and the seagulls are going nuts. I only captured a portion of the birds in the air. They are all around me. 


Part two of our trip to the beach will be coming up shortly...                         -djf

Sunday 13 October 2019

Three lamps, Ponsonby

It was 9 a.m. The temperature was about 60 degrees and the sky was blue. It was time for me to jump on a bus and go somewhere. I decided on Ponsonby. I've done other posts about this area, but I have not covered it all, by a long shot. Here is another instalment. 


The old Ponsonby Post Office stands on a historic corner. 
(This building reminds me a little of the Town Hall in Auckland, shown below, which was supposed to look like a ship)







Wow, look at how that's maintained. 

Quick facts

Hip, residential Ponsonby is known for shopping and dining, with stylish boutiques, independent bookshops and trendy cafes along Ponsonby Road. The foodie scene ranges from gourmet taco trucks and burger stands in the market-like space of Ponsonby Central to upscale gastropubs and seafood bistros. Small galleries showcase Kiwi crafts and edgy modern art, while buzzing bars specialize in craft beers and cocktails. (taken from the Google Maps page.)

This meeting of streets was/is known as "The Three Lamps."





There is today's three lamps. 



Always appreciated...The mens' public restroom. The whole thing was tiled, top to bottom, and was clean as. 



Ponsonby has plenty of historic buildings, but it has some modern as well. 




This is the Ley's Institute. Today it houses the Ponsonby Library, meeting rooms, and a gymnasium.



 Inside the library.




 I judge the worth of each new library I encounter by whether or not I find a book by P. G. Wodehouse on its shelves.  This one passed.
This particular book is an early Wodehouse, published in 1909. The story behind it is complicated. Rather than try to tell you about it, I've provided a link if you're interested. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Swoop!


 One nice thing about being old(er) is that I have acquired the nerve to act on my impulses to explore old buildings. There was no sign saying I couldn't snoop a bit so I did. 




 This is the largest meeting room up here and it was full of people taking a first-aid class. 




The view from the top of the stairs. It feels good just to look at all that symmetry and neatness. 

This is the gymnasium and it was locked up. 



This building was originally Ponsonby's Fire Hall.  Today is is a pricey steakhouse. A one pound Angus t-bone will cost you $98. This guy was setting the tables along the sidewalk. 





 A modest little house, but look how cool it is.





It's a pizza place. 

https://www.paneevino.co.nz/

I've really enjoyed walking around Ponsonby today and sharing it with you.       -djf

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And one of the nicest things about writing a blog is that one gets to put whatever one wants into it. Within reason of course.  

I have decided to exercise that ability to choose and place by providing you today with a number quotations from the writings of P. G. Wodehouse. (October 15, 1881 - February 14, 1975)  Finding the book set me off, I guess. 

Many of you already know how much I have enjoyed his work. You might not share my opinion. 

His last quotation below says it all I think. His writing has done that for me. At least momentarily. And it has reminded me to thank our Creator for putting such people on earth to help the rest of us. 

“She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing arm-chairs tight about the hips that season”
― P.G. Wodehouse, Carry on, Jeeves

[I'm] as broke as the ten commandments.”
― P. G. Wodehouse

“Unlike the male codfish which, suddenly finding itself the parent of three million five hundred thousand little codfish, cheerfully resolves to love them all, the British aristocracy is apt to look with a somewhat jaundiced eye on its younger sons.”
― P.G.Wodehouse


“He had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat, but certainly no more.”
― P.G. Wodehouse


“At the age of eleven or thereabouts women acquire a poise and an ability to handle difficult situations which a man, if he is lucky, manages to achieve somewhere in the later seventies.”
― P.G. Wodehouse , Uneasy Money


“I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.”
― P.G. Wodehouse, The Code of the Woosters


“Freddie experienced the sort of abysmal soul-sadness which afflicts one of Tolstoy's Russian peasants when, after putting in a heavy day's work strangling his father, beating his wife, and dropping the baby into the city's reservoir, he turns to the cupboards, only to find the vodka bottle empty.”
― P.G. Wodehouse , The Best of Wodehouse: An Anthology


“Beginning with a critique of my own limbs, which she said, justly enough, were nothing to write home about, this girl went on to dissect my manners, morals, intellect, general physique, and method of eating asparagus with such acerbity that by the time she had finished the best you could say of Bertram was that, so far as was known, he had never actually committed murder or set fire to an orphan asylum.”
― P.G. Wodehouse, Right Ho, Jeeves


“He groaned slightly and winced like Prometheus watching his vulture dropping in for lunch.”
― P.G. Wodehouse, Big Money


“Golf, like measles, should be caught young.”
― Wodehouse


“What are the chances of a cobra biting Harold, Jeeves?"
"Slight, I should imagine, sir. And in such an event, knowing the boy as intimately as I do, my anxiety would be entirely for the snake.”
― P.G. Wodehouse, The Inimitable Jeeves


“The object of all good literature is to purge the soul of its petty troubles.― P.G. Wodehouse