Preliminaries (Installment Six)

Preliminaries (Installment Five)

A mushroom is the fleshy, spore-bearing fruiting body of a fungus, typically produced above ground on soil or on its food source. The standard for the name "mushroom" is the cultivated white button mushroom, Agaricus bisporus, hence the word mushroom is most often applied to those fungi (Basidiomycota, Agaricomycetes) that have a stem (stipe), a cap (pileus), and gills (lamellae, sing. lamella) on the underside of the cap, just as do store-bought white mushrooms.
The word "mushroom" can also be used for a wide variety of gilled fungi, with or without stems, and the term is used even more generally, to describe both the fleshy fruiting bodies of some Ascomycota and the woody or leathery fruiting bodies of some Basidiomycota, depending upon the context of the word.
Forms deviating from the standard morphology usually have more specific names, such as "puffball", "stinkhorn", and "morel", and gilled mushrooms themselves are often called "agarics" in reference to their similarity to Agaricus or their placement in the order Agaricales. By extension, the term "mushroom" can also designate the entire fungus when in culture or the thallus (called a mycelium) of species forming the fruiting bodies called mushrooms, or the species itself.

Though mushroom fruiting bodies are short-lived, the underlying mycelium can itself be long-lived and massive. A colony of Armillaria ostoyae in Malheur National Forest in the United States is estimated to be 2,400 years old, possibly older, and spans an estimated 2,200 acres. Most of the fungus is underground and in decaying wood or dying tree roots in the form of white mycelia combined with black shoelace-like rhizomorphs that bridge colonized separated woody substrates.

From Wikipedia’s “Mushrooms”

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People have known about the "honey mushroom" for some time, but were not aware of how large and invasive this species of fungus could be. The fungus was investigated more closely by researchers when they realized that it was responsible for killing large groves of evergreen trees. When foresters cut into an infected tree they would find spreading white filaments, mycelia, which draw water and carbohydrates from the tree to feed the fungus. Researchers collected samples of the fungus from a widespread area and analyzed the DNA. A large sample of the specimens they collected turned out to be from a single organism.

Humongous Fungus

Until August of 2000 it was thought that the largest living organism was a fungus of the same species (Armillaria ostoyae) that covered 1,500 acres (600 hectares) found living in the state of Washington. But then mycology experts surmised that if an Armillaria that large could be found in Washington, then perhaps one just as large could be responsible for the trees dying in the Malheur National Forest in the Blue Mountains of eastern Oregon. Researchers were astonished at the sheer magnitude of the find. This most recent find was estimated to cover over 2,200 acres (890 hectares) and be at least 2,400 years old, possibly older.

To go into the forest where this giant makes its home you would not look at it and see a huge, looming mushroom. Armillaria grows and spreads primarily underground and the sheer bulk of this organism lies in the earth, out of sight. Occasionally, during the fall season, this specimen will send up golden-colored "honey mushrooms" (see photo, above left) that are the visible evidence of its hulking mass beneath. Scientists have not yet begun to attempt to estimate the weight of this specimen of Armillaria.
How is it possible for a single fungus to get so big? Scientists who study this species of funges have postulated that the huge size may be a function of the dry climate in eastern Oregon. Spores have a hard time establishing new organisms, making room for the old-timers to spread. Without competition from other specimens this enormous Armillaria has been able to grow and spread unchecked

From extremescience.com/biggestlivingthing.htm

Preliminaries (Installment Four)

Dear Ben,

Don’t tell your friends (or siblings, or whatever they are) but I like you the best. You were the first one to talk to me. I saw you first out of everyone. You’re someone I want to keep with me always. If I could have a dæmon, I think I would want him to be like you. Which I guess means I must see part of myself in you.

You’re childish, Ben. Inescapably immature, but not naïve. You’re well aware of what is out there that can hurt you, and you do your best to not seek it out, to not react to it, to not let it affect you in the slightest. You know it’s only a matter of time, but you also know that as long as people just think you’re a child, they won’t expect you to accept what you’re trying to postpone accepting. You’re where I am when I can be, and I like that about you.

You’re favorite color is red. Your favorite pastime is drawing. You don’t like using pencil first because, and you like the way crayons get smaller when you press hard against the paper. You don’t like television or movies because looking at screens gives you headaches. You once found a steel ring lying on the floor of the library—it had engravings of the Chinese Zodiac and you wear it everywhere. You tried to give it to a girl once, but she said it was too big for her and she didn’t want you to stop wearing it. Her name was Tess.

That’s who Tess is. She’s your best friend. You want her to always be your best friend, but she is growing up too quickly for you. The thing you’re most afraid of in the world is that Tess will find someone to replace you, someone who wants to marry her and take her away from you.

It’s a complicated relationship between you and Tess, isn’t it? You love her absolutely, more than you love yourself. You don’t listen to what people say about crushes and infatuation; the way they describe it, none of it sounds like what you feel for Tess. But it doesn’t feel like she’s your sister, either. You have a sister, and you love her too, but it’s not the same. Martha. She’s your sister.

Which means Gus is like your brother, because he’s always over at your…house? You don't live in a house, do you? But wherever you live, Gus is always there, and he’s not there for you, although you can’t believe he’s there for Martha either, because they can’t even look at each other without it registering on the Richter scale.

Do you have parents, Ben? I don’t feel like you do, but then again, I feel so much like I want to be your mother that maybe your real mother just doesn’t register in my head. If she is there, she’s not much of a mother.

Or is she? I don't know, Ben. I want to meet your parents if you have them. You don’t feel like an orphan, but I guess maybe you are. I don't want you to be an orphan, though.

How old are you, Ben?

Love,
Mommy

Preliminaries (Installment Three)

This is on the NaNoWriMo homepage, and I'm supposed to be writing an Essay about dæmons in The Golden Compass, but I wanted to share this with people (not real people who would give me funny looks when I smiled uncontrollably and cried a little bit) so here you are. Enjoy.

Q: Cylithria, you managed to participate in NaNoWriMo while serving in Iraq. What is it like to write a novel while on duty? How did you get your novel validated to win?
A: What is writing while serving in Iraq like? The short answer is: crazy. The long answer, is as vast and various as our world's military forces. During my first NaNoWriMo Iraq Novel, I was embedded in a forward observation team of United States Marines. (OORAH!) I was an experienced NaNoWriMo participant and as is my typical style, by October 31 I had nothing but the goal itself. No plot, no characters, no world - just the goal of 50K in 30 days.

We were still at a Northern Iraqi Base, preparing for forward Ops when November 1 rolled around. For the first week, after 18 hour training days, I went back to my rack and started typing what I hoped would be an ever growing story. By the time we moved out, I had written barely 3,000 words in seven days. I knew it would only get worse as we left the comforts of a base and headed into the northern-most regions of Iraq. I was right. Within 24 hours of our moving out, I realized my laptop was useless. Bright screens at night draw attention. Plus there were no currant bushes staggered in the mountains for me to plug into. Not good. Writing on paper was an option, but it held many, many drawbacks. Most of my "off hours" were at night, thus leaving me with no light. Writing by Night Vision Goggles is difficult, but somehow I wrote onward.

Two days before Thanksgiving it was the Commanding Officer who inquired as to what I was doing. He'd caught me crying. (I'd just killed off my main character; it was a heavy moment okay?) I will never forget the look on his face.

"You're doing what? National book writing month?"

"National Novel Writing Month Sir....it's NaNoWriMo, I can't miss it. I haven't missed one yet!"

I lost two hours of precious writing time that evening as I explained what in the world NaNoWriMo was and why I kept after the goal. It was another Marine who asked how I "won". When I extracted the massive sheets of paper from my pack and explained I had to transcribe all I'd written into digital txt file and upload it to the NaNoWriMo validater, they all looked ... well mad! We didn't have wi-fi access where we were and while they may not have understood the point of NaNoWriMo, they could look at a calendar and where we were and know the final validation would never be done from our local. I think that one thing, being unable to officially win because we were so far from home bothered us all. I know it hung like an albatross in the cool night air. But still, I wrote on.

Three days later I am sitting down, finishing my final page of my draft. I am at 50,279 words, most hand written. I still had more of the story to write, but once I tallied my word count, I announced it to our unit. My Commanding Officer addressed my small victory for all of them. Extending his hand towards me, he gave me my orders for the night along with a CD.

"We've transcribed everything except todays batch. It's all here. We changed nothing and you spell awful. Sit down and finish transcribing the rest. We meet a supply bird at zero three hundred hours. You get it done, we send it back to your liaison at HQ - That's the best shot we can give you Dubois."

I stared at the CD and struggled with tears. "Sir, yes Sir" was my only reply. I sat and did as ordered. In a moving vehicle, I transcribed the last of my words and then burned it all to the CD. We stuffed it, along with my user name and password, into one of the many courier bags addressed to my unit in the United States. At zero three hundred hours, at a mobile Landing Zone I watched as my Commanding Officer asked, not ordered, the pilot and crew to try and get that CD to where it needed to be, and get it there in time.

As the helicopter lifted off, my Commanding Officer placed a hand on my shoulder. "That's a win Dubois. If these Nano's don't agree, you send 'em to me. I'll set 'em straight even if that CD gets lost."

Time isn't something easily found when you are on duty in a combat zone. There was nothing more for me then those words and that Oorah, and as quickly as we could we moved on once more. While I figured I'd never be ale to legally claim that year as a victory, I knew it was in my heart. It was almost midnight of November 30th, on the east coast of the United States of America when my Commanding Officer came running to find me. In his hand he waved a small, handheld computer. "Dubois, hot damn! Ya did it!" He held the screen to my face.

There, in an email from my Liaison in the United States was a screenshot image of the validation of my novel. 32 minutes before midnight. The message from my Liaison was this: "Ma'am your novel flew on three helicopters, three transport planes, rode one ship and was driven via hummer to my office where I used your login to validate it. Be advised, you are a winner! Congrats! Now, can you please forward the reports you *should* have been writing?"

As I read those words to my fellow Marines, OORAH rang out. My Commanding Officer was as thrilled as any of us. With a great many fist pumps and hand gestures he shouted out, "That's right, That's right.... she a wrimo from the region of Iraq::Northern Province::OORAH"

Being the National Novel Writing Month enthusiast I am, I did the only thing I knew to do to celebrate my victory. Using the sound system of one of our vehicles I blasted the song "Time Warp", and danced. Writing while actively serving your country in the military is a very difficult thing. Time, climates, duties and orders often get in the way. But there are no finer win's in National Novel Writing Month then winning the challenge while serving your country. OORAH!

Cylithria Dubois has been participating in National Novel Writing Month since she first heard of it over nine years ago. This year she will attempt to complete her tenth National Novel Writing Month Novel from the Michigan :: Flint Region. Three of her nine NaNo-novels have been written from various hot spots around the world. Although not currently stationed with her Marines, they actively email her for novel updates when duty allows. She still does the Time Warp after every win - no matter where she is! She can be found telling stories of her life at www.whynotright.com, on Twitter, and via email or by NaNoMail at eensybeensyspider.

Happy writing!

Preliminaries (Installment Two)

[transcript of a voicemail left on my phone at 4:56 AM EDT]

-Why do you get to hold the phone?

-It's my effing phone, Martha. Shut the eff up.

-Great, Gus; now she's going to love us. Be a real man and use the word, not the letter if you're going to pretend to be vulgar.

-Get off me! You're fogging up my glasses.

-Mom? Mom! Are you there?

-Here Ben, you talk to her while I try to extract myself from my Suction Cup Garfield of a sister.

-Yeah, Gus. Mom! We got your letter! Well, more like we watched you type it. It's so great to hear your voice! Or at least feel your thoughts directed at us for the first time. It's too bad you've got so much work on your plate right now--it's pretty cramped up here, if you can't tell. Gus and Martha aren't really getting along. But you don't know them yet, and I want don't want to ruin the surprise.

You were nearly spot on about everything else. I guess you haven't quite nailed down Tess, which is okay. She's sleeping right now, otherwise she'd want to talk to you, assure you that she's not hurt or anything and that she's doing her best to speak up, but I guess Gus and I kind of do monopolize your attention. It's just how we're made, I guess. Oh wait! But it's not your fault! Shoot...

-Mom? Mom, can you tell Gus and Martha to stop putting super glue on each other's toothbrushes? They got mine last night and I almost used it before I noticed the hairs sticking to it.

-Introduce yourself, Avis.

-I'm Avis mom. I'm younger than Ben and Tess and I keep my toothbrush in the same cup as Gus, so...

-She doesn't want to hear about it, Avis.

-We don't have that much longer, Mom. We just wanted to call and say hello, introduce ourselves. It's great to hear you know we exist. But keep your ear to the grindstone--

-Wrong appendage...

-Nose. Right. Anyway, keep up your work until we get there, okay? Don't want you to flounder and have to drop us before you get to pick us up. Can't wait to see where you take us!

-Love you!

-Love you Mom!

-Love you! I'm excited!

-Can you buy me a new toothbrush?

-Avis!

-I mean, love you!

Preliminaries (Installment One)

Dear ya'll,

I haven't even met you yet. Honestly, I haven't even thought about the possibility of your existence until today because October has been such a crappy month I forgot that the glory of November was planning on following it. But let me tell you, now that your nondescript forms are in my head, I'm excited for your eventual arrival!

Right now, I'm thinking of a group of four or five. And I'm picturing an especially outgoing boy, and I want to name him Ben. What do you think about that, my potential extroverted character? I also sense an insecure and introspective girl named Tess. Maybe she's your sister, Ben? Or your best friend? Or your twin? I'm really deferring to you here, Ben, because you're the only clear image I've got so far. Do you see a mentor in your life? I feel like I can see one...his name...is....Okay, so we'll work that out later. We have time. Two weeks? Psh, we've got forever. Don't worry Ben.

The problem is, Ben, I don't think you're the main character. I don't know about Tess, but I'm not really feeling it from her either. So, you know, as these two weeks wear on, if you could bring some clarity as to your position, I would really appreciate it.

I think we're all going to be fast friends. Ben and I have got this great connection going already, so the rest of you have to stop hiding behind him soon, mkay? Thanks.

Lots of love,
Mommy