Lab 9: The Dog Park!

Yay! Puppies!

Unfortunately, for the second section of this course, going to the dog park was just not in the stars.
(I theorize that someone offended Zeus.)

We did not get to go as a class because of the incredible monsoon that overcame the city.

I have been to the Macon Dog Park before, though, with my friend Apryl and her black lab Maggie.



This is a picture of Maggie playing in a creek.

She's so cute!
If you do your fingers in a shooting motion and say "BAM!" she'll lay down like you shot her and play dead.

She loves the dog park, mostly because she seems to get incredibly excited at every prospect to play with another dog.

Although, if she was a puppy, she couldn't go to the dog park. Because dog parks tend to have dog diseases-- for instance, parvo.
And parvo is super deadly for poor little puppies!

Lab report 8: Darwin's Dilemma

We watched a movie about the Burgess Shale during lab.

The Burgess Shale is located in Canada. It's a big ol' shale, or a sort of monolithic... monolith. It's a fossil field day! People love it!

The thing is, this shale shows a serious leap between the Precambrian and Cambrian Eras, via layers in the sedimentary rock.
In the layers from the Precambrian Period, there are very few-- if any-- fossils suggesting the existence of complex organisms.

In the layer above, however, bam! all sorts of complex critters!

The movie we watched, "Darwin's Dilemma," basically screamed for an hour that the stark difference between the sedimentary layers of the Precambrian period (complex-organism free) and the Cambrian period (all sorts of complex creatures) is evidence for intelligent design.
And if you believe in intelligent design, then, yeah, it doesn't disprove it.

The movie continually referred to some quotes plucked out-of-context from Darwin's Origin of Species.
If I remember correctly, it was something like "...highly problematic." or "I cannot be certain..."
(I don't usually take notes during movies, but I'm beginning to see that I probably should.)

The movie suggested that the appearance of complex organisms can be pinpointed not only to a single day, but to a span of two minutes wherein a "burst of creativity" occurred.
I would have liked to have seen a video that was not produced by the Discovery Institute (who have produced such other blockbusters as A Case for a Creator and The Intelligent Design Collection.

Lab Report 7: Hitchiti Experimental Forest

This lab required that students arrive at the parking lot of the forest no later than 2:15 pm.
According to google maps, the forest is located 35 minutes away from campus.
I had Spanish the class period immediately preceding this lab (as I did every day that labs happened).
That only left me 25 minutes to drive to the forest (which already would have required that I sped).
I already believed that it was inappropriate to require students to leave for a lab 20 minutes before the lab period began.

The day of the lab, I had a Spanish test.
The test ran over 10 minutes. (I also think this is inappropriate, but those ten minutes made it possible for me to finish my exam (and make an A!).)
This left me with 15 minutes to walk to my car, drive to this forest to which I had never been, and park. The drive is 35 minutes.

By the time I got to my car, I only had 11 minutes.

There was no point wasting the gas to drive to a parking lot that would doubtlessly be abandoned by the time I arrived.

I'm sad that I missed it, and I've stalked facebook photos. It looked like fun!
But I could not go, and I don't really think I should be punished for it.

I'm sorry this was so short and snippy. I've got a lot of blogs to do.

Tragedy Strikes the Landrum Abode

(RIP Nancy and Viktor.)

My plants were growing so beautifully!
They became giants!

This is the last photo I took with them before... before the fateful day of their untimely demise.
This photo was taken a few weeks before someone-- a feline-- out of jealousy or boredom or God knows what, decided to commit a DOUBLE PLANTICIDE!

The poor things didn't even know what was coming. I kept them on the windowsill of my bedroom, protected by a large cardboard map of the United States.
One day, I came home and something, I presume a kitten, had knocked Nancy and Victor over. There was dirt everywhere! At the time, I did not own a vacuum cleaner, so I borrowed one belonging to my classmate and downstairs neighbor.
My friend, a sort of horticultural mastermind (whose chive plant has survived two hellacious winters and a lifetime of neglect) brought me some potting soil and a larger pot.
The spacious planter was appropriate, because the two sprouts were quickly transmogrifying into chlorophyll beasts.
They managed to make it another month at least.
They grew. They were beautiful.

Then... certain kittens got frisky.
The culprits: (I can't figure out how to upload photos from my phone to my computer... so there's only old pictures)

LOKI (brunette) and SPARTACUS (blond)!

The pot kept mysteriously being slightly knocked over when I got returned home from work.
This went on for a few days.
Then someone ate on of Nancy's arms.
Then, SOMEONE ate ALL of Nancy and broke Viktor in half, dragging his corpse into the kitchen!

In conclusion, they dead.

Lab 6: Jackson Springs

Hello!


A few weeks ago (I say this because I'm horribly forgetful) we went to Jackson Springs Park in order to check out the geology around the area.

There was an entrance to the riverwalk via the backside of Jackson Springs, which I found to be quite lovely.

My favorite part of the entire trip was going through the tunnel that extends beneath the road through which the meager stream runs.
There was a bit of graffiti (as can be expected in such a perfect spot for graffiti) in the tunnel. One of the paintings said something like "Angela and Chris kissed right.... HERE! 2004." (I don't actually know that their names are Angela or Chris; those are the first names that came to mind.)

I saw a great deal of hornblende while on the excursion, and there was a bit of granite in the bridge. I searched pretty eagerly for some mica, to no avail.

I knew going in to the lab about the fairly racist (as hell) history that Jackson Springs boasts. My fiance's parents had come to the park when they were young, and they told the story once when I came with them.
I want to believe that Macon is heading toward the less-racist path, but once I was looking at homes with a realtor and we turned down a street. There was a group of young African Americans on a porch, and she literally put the car in reverse and said, "You're looking for a different neighborhood."
I chose to rent. Without that lady.

(on the fifth day of blogmas my true love gave to me...)

Five lab repoooooooooorts!


This lab report is based on the field trip to the Ocmulgee National Monument.
[I missed a part of this experience (with prior approval of Dr. Rood) because I had a Fulbright foreign language evaluation scheduled the same day. I'd like to first complain about that: I am terrible at interviews. It's some sort of please-don't-judge-me-too-harshly phobia. I get nervous. I say stupid things. I forget how old I am. I can remember almost literally nothing. And it turns out, when the interview is conducted in Spanish, I can remember even less.
So I kinda blew that interview. I'm the saddest.]

Now, to get down to business. I made it in time to walk to the greater temple mound.
I'm a particular fan of looming mounds like that, because they're so in keeping with the strive in so many religions (ancient ones particularly) to establish a worship shop located on a spot of high altitude. The greater temple of the Ocmulgee National Monument is similar to the elevated sacred grounds of other cultures.
Take, for instance, the Mayan ruins in Honduras, the Copan Ruins.

Three of my adventuring friends and I spent New Years in Honduras and got lost in Copan after some whacky bus hijinx. Copan is an entire Mayan city. It's giant! This photo is of the temple pyramid where sacrifices to the gods were made. (The sides allegedly ran red with blood once.)

This desire to increase altitude for religious ceremonies-- communal ones in particular-- probably stems from the idea that gods are in the skies.

The greater temple of the Ocmulgee National Monument was built handful by handful of clay and dirt. Super cool. It now proves to provide one of the best views of Macon available. (Although I'm a pretty big fan of the view from the law school.)


I found the discussion about the geologic Fall Line of Georgia to be particularly interesting. Most of the great Georgian cities of ole-- and yes, Macon was at one time a great city-- are situated along the Fall Line, because it is the farthest west that people could go from the coast through the plains.
Rivers, such as the Ocmulgee, the Cherokee, the Oconee, and the Savannah are navigable through the coastal plain to the Fall Line. Since cities are generally built where there is a supply of fresh water, the Fall Line is prime real estate for any culture looking to settle down and built a city.
The coastal plain exists because that entire region was once under the ocean. The Fall Line is the boundary between the coastal plain, which is so flat and generally easily navigable, and the Piedmont, which is all sorts of rocky and hilly. (The Piedmont also is home to that famous Georgia red clay.)
A link (from uga.edu) that I found particularly informative about the Fall Line and Georgia's geology in generally is right..... HERE!

It's worth mentioning that Macon as well as Milledgeville, Columbus, and Augusta are all located along the Fall Line.

Lab report the fourth

Hello, computer people!

First and foremost, Nancy and Viktor (my plants) are doing quite well. I keep them on the windowsill in my bedroom, with the window cracked. I block it from my cats with a giant map of the United States. I'm pretty sure Nancy's a sunflower and Viktor's a tomato plant. I had the flu or something when I planted them, so I didn't think about the fact that it might be stupid to mix the kinds of seeds. Oh well, they get along.

I accidentally left my notebook with the information about the lab at home, where I have no internet, so I'm working from memory.

Our lab on September 28 was fun, because we got to play in the dirt.
My particular favorite aspect was the community garden.
You can find information about Macon's community garden, Macon Roots, right here.
I guess that the best part of a community garden, besides training people to become slightly more self-sufficient, is that it promotes a sense of community where it might not have originally existed. (I know, it seems like a cop-out, because it's in the name.) People learn to work together with this sort of thing, but they also learn to work.
[Oh man, these html codes confuse me.]
When you only know how to go to Kroger and buy a can of green beans, you don't really know what goes in to what you ingest. When you farm the goods yourself, you appreciate them.
I don't really come from a community, per se, but I do come from a farm. And, as sick as I get of pickled okra after the 8th jar full in a month, I have to admit that I'm still more likely to eat them than I would be if I had purchased them in absurd bulk at a store, because wasting time seems far worse than wasting money.

If you're interested in knowing how to start a community garden, go to this link.

One potential danger when it comes to community gardening is the possibility of city-born pollutants within the soil contaminating the foodstuffs.
I don't think that's an irrational concern, honestly.

I was going to make the graph today, but since my information is in my notebook, which is at home, I'll have to add it tomorrow.

Also, at this lab we discussed an environmental activist who was concerned that earthworms were destroying the earth.
The Aquabats issued a response to this nonsense:
Worms Make Dirt.


Ta-daaaaa!

Lab Report, III

TREES

Pecan tree, Carya illinoinensis


Dogwood tree, Cornus sanguinea


Crepe myrtle, Lagerstroemia
(There's one of these in front of my house.)


Yoshino cherry, Prunus × yedoensis


Maple, Acer


**********************************************************************
My computer is having a heart attack. I'm going to restart it, but then I have to go home, where I don't have internet. So I'll finish this lab report tomorrow.
*********************************************************************
PLANTS

Elephant ear, Xanthosoma colocasia


Mums, Chrysanthemum morifolii


Zinnia, Zinnia elegans


Aloe, aloe vera
(Use it on yo' burns!)

(I used this photo because I like the lady in it.)

Holly, Illex opaca
I had a friend who lived on Holly Berry Road. The first time I visited, I thought he said Halle Berry Road. I missed the party entirely.


*********************************************
SHRUB (a dub dub)

Privet, Ligustrum vulgare


Azaleas, Rhododendron azalea

Lab Report numero dos

My "baby" is doing surprisingly well. I'd take a photo to show it off, but I don't have it with me, and I don't have internet at my home. So YOU SHALL GO WITHOUT PHOTOS.
There are two little sproutlings (that's a word, yeah?) in my cup. One taller than the other. The tall one is Nancy. The shorter, Viktor.


[I should be studying for a certain exam right now, learning all about cycles I didn't know existed. But I'd rather blog. I'm also considering ordering another large coffee, because I have that mysterious exam, a paper, a whole lotta Spanish homework, and a Fulbright redraft due tomorrow. I'm not at trivia right now, meaning I'm developing as a student.]



So this is a Google Earth image of the area we went to during the river-wandering lab (which was super fun. Next time, with swimsuits!).
There were too many chiefs and not enough Indians, so to (politically incorrectly) speak. Because of the hordes of clam-counters and stream-checkers, I opted instead to gather litter from the river. This was a fantastic decision, because I generally enjoy playing in rivers and making them more barefoot-safe. We gathered an entire garbage bag of junk in about an hour. Then, when we worked our way to the sandbank closest to the big Spring Street bridge, I found luggage!
(CJ and Cameron can attest to my excited yelps of "It's luggage! Luggage!")

In this luggage we found nothing but a ruined super-vernacular bible and some framed photos.
The photos excited me particularly, because they had been water damaged just enough to look like something that one might find at MOMA. The only one that wasn't completely just smeared water-colors was of several similarly dressed ladies. Some of them were water damaged.

I'd post a picture of the photo that I kept, but-- again-- I don't have it with me and don't have internet at my house. If I remember I'll post it later.



[Side note: Some people seem to be pro- soft cover textbook. I'm an innately destructive person. I'm very anti- soft cover textbook.]


The notes I took say, "Google Earth picture the area of the river we were in, post data, talk about yo' baby, other suff." Why am I so cryptic? "Other stuff?" Really, Alicia?

If I messed up, super sorry. I'll return to this post if I can decipher my notes.

Thanks for dropping by!

Here's a picture of my cats Loki and Spartacus when they were kittens:

Cartography lab.

Here's my sad, sad attempt at an isarithmic map. (One of annual precipitation in Georgia, as a matter of fact.)

I don't have a scanner, but I do have a webcam.

In case anyone is curious as to what an isarithmic map is, sit down and I shall tell you a tale!
An isarithmic map is also known as a contour map. This is because there are contours lines that help to show distinctions between areas in which various levels of whatever phenomenon the map is dealing with. Isarithmic maps are often shaded or colored. Mine was done with crayon, because I have limited cartography supplies.

This particular isarithmic map shows temperature patterns for the US.

There are several other incredibly exciting kinds of maps, about which I shall now write!

Take, for instance, the proportional symbol map.
It's one of my preferred, because there are simply symbols placed on the map that grow in relation to the data. It's really rather intuitive. (Bigger blobs = bigger numbers.)
Check out this blob-wrought proportional symbol map!



I find this one particularly amusing, because it's a map of places that are willing to teach you about maps.

Last, but not necessarily least, is the dot density map.
Break down the words to understand. Dot- So there will be dots. Density- so the density, probably of aforementioned dots, will be relevant. Map- yep, still talking about maps.
So the more dots that are in a given area, the higher amount of the data being tracked.



So, this map shows the population of the US. Areas with a whole bunch of dots (yeah, that's the scientific term) have higher populations. It's similar to the proportional symbol map, except, instead of the dots getting bigger, they become more numerous.



----------------------------
Now, let's play with Google Maps!



The first one is of my family's homestead. My great-grandfather owned a notable plot of land, and now all of the Landrums refuse to leave it. Which I love, because it's home.




The second photo is of my hometown happy place. There's a waterfall that my friends and I always debauched around. (Everyone who went to High Shoals Baptist Church, where I used to attend, used to be baptized in this waterfall. There are too many smashed liquor bottles in it now to be traipsing around barefoot.)



The final picture is of Las Lajas Resort at the Playa Las Lajas in Panama, and it's my happy place. We stumbled upon it after several days of no showering and hiking the jungle. There's an infinity pool! The ocean! Fancy bar! Delicious food! Hot water! Air conditioning! It is heaven.(Although it doesn't look like much on Google Earth.)

Awesome Critter: aye aye lemur

Oh man, this thing looks horrifying (and is therefore fascinating).



The aye aye lemur looks something like Gollum, which is always a semi-endearing trait o' lemurs.

The aye aye was named after the sound that it makes in the wild, although I'd prefer to believe that it's simply particularly agreeable.

Best of all, it's a wee primate, which basically makes it a miniature, malformed person. (Okay, that's not quite true, but I can dream.)

When they're young, aye ayes derive their nutrients from their mothers and gain their minimal social skills from play-fighting.

They have an exceptionally long middle finger, which they use as a tool to scrape food from within dying trees and such.




I've always had a fascination with lemurs. My nickname in middle school was Licia Lemur. (So my preteen friends weren't too witty. Whatever.)I'm interested in the aye aye, because look into its terrifying, glowing eyes!

If you're not easily offended, click on this link and go to number 5.