It’s time for yet another post on animals for your reading amusement: installment #17 from my blog thread describing what to call groups of animals … See how many you can guess. Answers listed at the bottom of the page.
You won’t find this crèche in a crèche.
The dissimulation’s dissimulation about what kind of animals they were didn’t last long.
This herd must have heard – it has ears to hear.
How the scold scolded!
The mob wasn’t big enough to mob the fields.
We heard the crash crash through the brush.
Answers:
Mob, South Island, New Zealand
Crèche of penguins
Dissimulation of birds
Herd of rabbits (domestic only)
Scold of jays
Mob of sheep
Crash of rhinos
Crèche, South AfricaDissimulation, Inle Lake, Myanmar
Here is installment #16 from my now ginormous blog thread describing what to call groups of animals … See how many you can guess. Answers listed at the bottom of the page.
This sloth was indeed slothful.
The turmoil created turmoil.
Is an unkindness unkind?
The hedge crowded on the hedge.
The bloom bloomed in the warm waters.
Bloats do look bloated.
Answers:
Sloth
Sloth of bears
Turmoil of porpoises
Unkindness of ravens
Hedge of heron
Bloom of jellyfish
Bloat of hippopotami
Hedge, Wilhelma Zoo, Stuttgart GermanyBloom, Loro Parque, Tenerifa
Admit it… you’re a little afraid to find out what this one is…
Here is installment #14 from my blog thread describing what to call groups of animals … See how many you can guess. Answers listed at the bottom of the page.
An aerie lives in an aerie.
I found the idea of eating a possi impossible.
The lap did laps.
The whisker’s whiskers quivered.
The wedge flew in a wedge.
Does a chine have chins?
Aerie member, protected islands off the coast by Esperance, Australia
Yes. It’s time for another post on animals for your reading amusement: installment #13 from my blog thread describing what to call groups of animals … See how many you can guess. Answers listed at the bottom of the page.
The screech screeched.
Unlike the peapod, this pod is almost extinct.
The flutter fluttered off the rock.
The gaze gazed from under the trees.
Wings winged away across the sand.
The tower towers.
Pod member, Mekong River, Laos border to CambodiaScreech member, Mallorca
Open-air museums are inappropriately named. For many people, Museum + History = Death by Excessive Yawning. Not me! A good open-air museum can transport me into other cultures and the past. I think a better name for such a site is ‘living museum’.
Latvia Ethnographic Open-Air Museum
In southern Laos, we spent an afternoon at a spot with traditional tribes’ homes. My favorite was the thatched home on stilts. In the middle of the night, a courting youth has to climb a ladder and wait for a signal through a strategically located hole in the wall. The young woman has to approve his advances. Only then can he climb in the window…
Olde Sturbridge Village in Sturbridge, Massachusetts was a hands’ down childhood favorite. The site still knocks me out. Paid artisans and trained volunteers dress in period clothing and demonstrate everything from making horse shoes to ginning cotton. Olde Sturbridge contains “the best collection of early 19th-century rural New England artifacts in the world”. [1]
Another favorite open-air museum is Neuhausen ob Eck (amusingly named ‘New Home on the Eck’), located not far from Tuttlingen and Konstanz in southern Germany. In the bee keeper’s house, I learned all about the world of bees. The German language holds bees in special regard. In German, the word for animals is Bestie or Tiere, beasts. But Germans speak of the Bienenvolk, a hive or literally ‘the bee people’, granting them a status with humans. In the Middle Ages, if the bee keeper died in the night someone was sent to the hives to whisper the news to the bees.
The bee keeper enjoyed a special status. Thanks to his bee family he produced wax candles for light, honey for food, and pollen products for medicine. [2]
Fishing nets, Latvia Ethnographic Open-Air Museum
Outdoor museums can teach with their simplicity. On our recent trip to Estonia and Latvia, we spent a day at Latvia’s Ethnographic Open-Air Museum on the shore of Lake Jugla. [3] The spot is incredibly atmospheric.
It’s an easy bus ride from the capitol Riga to the museum. (Go to my recent post Food as Art and salivate over the delicious foods you can order in Baltic restaurants.)
What I learned is that as recently as 100 years ago life here was a different story.
Existence was harsh and hard, like the overcast skies much of the day we visited. [4] Along with simple huts, the site includes windmills.
A store building is filled with dowry chests and traces of Latvia’s long history serving in the Hanseatic League.
My takeaway: How truly thin the veneer of prosperity is. Our sense of progress and the advance of civilization is so recent, and so young. I left grateful for the things I take for granted in my everyday life. In too many places in the world people still live without electricity, running water, or centralized heat.
NOTES: [1] https://www.osv.org/ Go to my earlier posts Old Sturbridge Village Part 1 and 2 for photos and the story of our visit. [2] Honey-based products never rot. I purchased a propolis salve at Neuhausen a decade ago; it’s still good. The bee keeper told me the salve can be used on everything from wounds and burns to arthritis and herpes. Neuhausen-ob-Eck [3] Latvia Ethnographic Museum [4] For Game of Thrones fans, I kept thinking of the Iron Islands and how craggy-rocks bitter life is there. These Latvian houses would fit the scenes perfectly, except for the fact that Game of Thrones is a fantasy world. Real people lived in the huts as recently as the start of the 20th Century.
I present installment #11 from my blog thread describing what to call groups of animals … See how many you can guess. Answers listed at the bottom of the page.
Two weeks ago, I posted about crispy fried big black hairy spiders. I admit it…. I had fun thinking about grossing you out.
Believe me, when I saw the size of those buggers that day at the rest stop, I wasn’t just grossed out. I was really, really happy that they were behind glass.
I felt bad (okay, only slightly) for scaring the small children and grown men in my reading audience. So this week, I’m bringing you another food post, but in the opposite direction: Food as Art.
Uwe and I just made our first trip to two of the Baltic states. We spent a couple days each exploring Riga, Latvia and Tallinn, Estonia. Along with sparking a brand-new curiosity in the Hanseatic League [1], these cities introduced me to the northern European food scene.
Oh. My. God. We ate incredible meals every night. What made those meals so special is an insistence on local products and a reverence for tradition, but with a modern spin. The chefs did delicious things with grains like kasha, and groats and millet, and barley. For years I have firmly insisted that German bread is the best on the planet, closely followed by breads baked fresh in India [2]. Now there’s a new guy on the (bread) block: the pumpernickel and dark breads of the Baltics.
A starter with local smoked salmon
We ordered dishes with elk, deer, fresh and smoked fish,
A different restaurant’s smoked salmon with trout cavier, accompanied by rolled slices of cucumber… and a third restaurant’s smoked salmon appetizer. Art on a plateTraditional beet borscht soup, updated with yellow lentils and pieces of elk meat that melted in my mouth
local cheeses and beers. For the first time in my life I ate (and loved!) kippered herrings. Everything was decorated with edible flowers and herbs, and served up with intense purees of once uninteresting and now fascinating root vegetables. Everything was presented as a work of art. This is food to die for….
First course of wild mushrooms sauteéd and served in spinach blini purses
Without further ado, here are some of the plates from our feasts. Every night we forgot to photograph at least one course. We were too busy enjoying our food!
Lamb marinated in juniper berries served with yellow beetroot cream, cranberries and barleyFresh fish with beet root puree and kale (out of all the meals we ate, the kale was the one item that was not perfect)Venison stew with roasted onion halvesBeef with sweet pepper-eggplant-onion millet squares, oyster mushrooms, water cress and johnny-jump-ups
A shout out to the amazing restaurants Von Krahi Aed and Rataskaevu 16 in Tallinn, as well as Peter Gailis and Melna Bite in Riga. Labu apetīti and jätku leiba! [3]
Hibiscus poached pear, pumpkin seeds in apple syrup, and raspberry sorbet
This is installment #10 from my blog thread describing what to call groups of animals … See how many you can guess. Answers listed at the bottom of the page.
He parceled out food to the parcel.
The bob bobbed.
I added an herb bouquet to the cooking bouquet.
The pack thinks this part of Australia should be called the Outpack.
The pace set a slow pace.
How the charm charmed me!
Parcel, Chin village, MyanmarI’m a pack member, mate!
Answers:
Parcel of pigs
Bob of seals [1]
Bouquet of pheasant
Pack of dingos [2]
Pace of asses
Charm of hummingbirds [3]
Parcel partBob, protected sea life islands near Woody Island, Esperance, Australia
It’s an easy bus ride from the capitol Riga to the museum. (Go to my recent post Food as Art and salivate over the delicious foods you can order in Baltic restaurants.)
Existence was harsh and hard, like the overcast skies much of the day we visited. [4] Along with simple huts, the site includes windmills.
A store building is filled with dowry chests and traces of Latvia’s long history serving in the Hanseatic League.
NOTES: [1] 
