Warning: This is not the only post I've published since you last checked my blog. I have posted a veritable plethora today. I seem to be in the posting mood. Something about working nine hours yesterday perhaps.Anyway, last month I saw an article in the paper about an area near my parent's house that mentioned the street's lined with Camphor Trees. That sparked some curiousity, and I did a little bit of research. This paragraph comes from a site on Historic Wilmington: "Camphor Trees - Planted 1927, 1200 Block of Lakme Avenue
These fifty-two beautiful trees were planted in 1927. They are the hallmark of the upscale "Banning Park Neighborhood" and are part of this unique and charming three-block area that is eligible for designation as a Los Angeles Historic Preservation Overlay Zone. These trees are approximately 40 feet tall with an even wider spread that creates a pleasant, shady canopy over Lakme Avenue. A delight in every season of the year, beautiful in the rain when the heavy trunks and branches look black and the winter leaves are a shiny light green. In the spring, new foliage may be pink, red or bronze depending on the tree. The name of the tree is appropriate since the leaves smell of camphor when crushed."
Cool to see these trees I love (and the squirrels love; it's a wonder we haven't had a ton of squirrels around before this, with so many trees containing so many berries) mentioned in an overview of the city, but the last sentence makes me laugh. I mean, "since the leaves smell of camphor"?! I can understand not knowing whether or not camphor comes from Camphor Trees, but you'd think you'd look it up before publishing a statement like that! That's like saying Olive Trees are appropriately named because these black things that resemble olives fall from them...
Many sites I went to mentioned the crushed leave camphor smell thing. So I tried it, and my immediate response was, “Oh, that smell!” I didn’t think I could’ve managed not to smell it in all my years of raking up leaves. Sure enough, it’s as familiar as Eucalyptus. Probably up until now if I'd come across some camphor, I would've thought it odd how much it smells like leaves. It’s always interesting when a plant called “exotic” by many is one you grew up with. Why, for years if you said the word “leaf” to me, the image I would associate with that word was the leaf of the Camphor Tree. Only I didn’t know its name at the time. I like knowing the names of things. Now I can refer to them as Camphor Trees, rather than something like, “the-main-kind-of-tree-that-lines-our-street.” Now I want to learn the name of that tree that has the same kind of leaves as Eucalyptus, but looks so vastly different than the Eucalyptus in our backyard, with its white bark and slender form instead of the thick shaggy old man of a tree we have… Is it just a different variety? In my little amount of tree research I did discover there are quite a few varieties.
The Tale of Despereaux being the story of a mouse, a princess, some soup, and a spool of
thread by Kate DiCamillo
This was a simple, child-like (not childish, as Mr. Taylor would say) story, beautifully told and illustrated. It was a joy to read, similar in those ways to The Little Prince – just longer, and with different subject matter. It is, in fact, the story of a mouse, a princess, some soup, and a spool of thread. It is of darkness and light, heroes and beauty. It is a Newbery Medal winner. Read it, if you enjoy children’s books.
“The world is dark, and light is precious. Come closer, dear reader. You must trust me. I am telling you a story.”
Nine in ev’ry square
And in each row and column:
Annoying Puzzle.
I would expect a bit more from “the #1 New York Times Bestseller,” but this was still a pretty good fantasy. I have read better, but I’ve also read much, much, worse. I suppose its success is due not just to good marketing, but an appeal to a wide age range. It’s really a very impressive book for a teenager to write; Christopher Paolini began writing Eragon at fifteen, and worked on it for “several years.” The writing is very good, but I can’t escape the impression that I could write something like it myself. I know, that sounds arrogant, it’s just that… it’s hard to put my finger on it, but the writing seems very young. Enough so that partway through the book, I said, I wonder how old this author is… and flipped to the back of the book to read the “About the Author.” I was slightly surprised to have my suspicions confirmed to that extent, but not overly. It is a good book, I’m happily reading its sequel at the moment. And yet, I like children’s books. That’s essentially what this book is – an extremely long children’s (or at least young adult) book, one of the few. It’s not drawn out though – the story is that long, the author tells it rather concisely, actually. Perhaps that’s what makes this book hard to describe – it’s the first children’s book I can think of that has the feel of a standard epic fantasy world behind it.
Part of what makes the writing seem young is that standard observations, like that sometimes it takes more courage to live than to die, are treated as though they are, in fact, very insightful. They seem that way when you’re fifteen, but… The main character, Eragon, isn’t always all that bright. He’ll probably grow up, but for now he is much too easily surprised. Already I’ve easily foreseen two of the things which surprised him, and it looks like there will be two more in the next books. Oh well. Good book.
Well, if I'm going to post a random slew of pictures, I might as well start out with one of Boo. 
Why is it that so many of my best pictures of Joi have her holding a camera?
Hi Tim!
Hi Beth!
I see you. So does Rachel.
What a beautiful day!
No, it's not a picture of a Gamecube and such. Look closely. See the two white spots? Those are paws. That cat was moving fast!
A semi-successful attempt to capture the magic of a streetlight shining through the fog on New Year's.
LA can be pretty in the spring. How many hours did I spend out here as a kid?
I like my parent's sideyard. Pretty, peaceful...
One of my favorites, and my second-best squirrel shot (after a picture I just took today, that I'll put up here later).
Yeah, I know, it's "just grass." But it's so sharp! I like my camera... (=
Odd. I didn't really expect to like this picture when I took it. By the way, this is the parking lot of my old high school (second campus), where my sister's going right now. I was picking her up. All my best sunset pictures happen when I pick her up there.
Yeah, yeah, boring picture. The cool thing is that the grass you see here wasn't showing itself just a few days before. Then there was a lot of rain followed by a hot spell, and up it comes like crazy. I'd given up on that seed, it'd been a while since I scattered it.
I just like this picture. It's Boo's shadow, if you can't tell.
“Don’t mock my diabolikility!” –me
“It’s just one of those quotes that’s easier said than written.” –Melanie (if I spelled it “diabolicality,” or “diabolicility,” no one would pronounce it right. Probably most people won’t anyway, but it’s more likely now. I wonder, is the way I pronounced it evidence of a change in the underlying representation of the phonemes?)
No, I am not obsessed. I just like her. And she writes well. So, I figured since I posted a link to her reaction to winning a Newbery Honor, I might as well post a link to this post as well. And then there's this one, which I should have posted with the last one, because it's funny and reminds me of some of my friends...
