I am not a scientist, unless they do a lot with scissors, then I have missed my calling. But this is the background to the continuation of the story I started sometime earlier about the boxes and it fits into this animal's mating habits. When I was a child, my parents came home with lots of abalone, and after beating them with a mallet that's only other use must be for beating dead horses, and since these poor crustaceans are almost extinct, I feel responsible. So don't eat abalone. The poor things, the male abalone sits on a reef and spews out his stuff in hopes that a female of mating age and fertility may be somewhere in the vicinity. Tough luck if she's just out of spewing reach. And I really think writing in those little boxes on Facebook or sending a tweet is something similar: you spew it out over the reef and you hope a female might be waiting. If you go to Facebook now, you'll see that the story is taking shape in my little boxes there. It's wildly fun to think of one sentence a day, maybe by the time I'm 60 it will be a book! But what I'm also sure was wildly fun was my brother taking this picture of an abalone off of Catalina Island. Can you see it? They also marvelously blend into their surroundings so you almost don't notice them, except for the feelers wiggling around.
Thanks for this picture, brother! Don't eat it!
"Can you say crak-a-lakkin whoop? This blogger is a whirlwind. Whenever I need an extra shot of energy, she's the one. Single mom in Switzerland snips and sews. But watch out for her bite." Christine Gerber-Rutt
Collage Slide Show
She used to run a play-group, but she ate all the kids and kept two. These days Mrs Crocodile is shedding her skin and coming of age as a single mom in Switzerland, which is an island somewhere between here and 40...
"Mrs Crocodile grabs life by the fingers, dresses it up with a pair of dangly earrings and delicious shoes and dances away down the cobblestone street. Join her if you can." Christine Gerber-Rutt