To show that I’ve recovered from my rib injury, this morning I stood on a stepladder in the garden and picked the Morello cherries in the photograph below.
Next to the peonies, the tall magenta flower is Geitrams — Goat-rams — aka Rosebay Willowherb or Fireweed, in English. In Russian it’s Иван-чай узколистный, or Narrow-Leafed Ivan’s Tea. According to Wikipedia it was used as a tea substitute (when, I don’t know) and by googling I’ve found that some people absolutely love it. Now I’m going to have to try it. I would like to include the Mongolian for Geitrams, but I can’t find it and it may not be indigenous. Oh, all right, in German it’s Das Schmalblättrige Weidenröschen and in French it’s L’Épilobe en épi.
Addendum: In the comments, MMcM draws our attention to this, at Botanical.com:
Synonyms—Flowering Willow. French Willow. Persian Willow. Rose Bay Willow. Blood Vine. Blooming Sally. Purple Rocket. Wickup. Wicopy. Tame Withy.
Part used—Herb.
Epilobium angustifolium (Linn.), the Rose Bay Willow-herb, is one of our handsomest wild flowers, and like the Foxglove, is for its beauty often cultivated as a garden plant.Its tall, erect stems, 4 to 8 feet high, densely clothed with long, narrow, minutely-toothed leaves, terminate in long, showy spikes of flowers of a light rose-purple, hence the name Rose Bay, the leaves having likewise been compared to those of the Bay Laurel. The plant has also been named Blood Vine, because it has a red appearance. In Ireland, we find it called ‘Blooming Sally,’ Sally being a corruption of the Latin Salix, the Willow, really a reference to the willow-like leaves.
Gerard calls it:
‘A goodly and stately plant having leaves like the greatest willow or osier, garnished with brave flowers of great beautie, consisting of four leaves apiece of an orient purple colour.’
It is a native of most countries of Europe. In this country, it has apparently become more common than it was in Gerard’s day. He tells us he had received some plants of this species from a place in Yorkshire, apparently as a rarity, ‘which doe grow in my garden very goodly to behold, for the decking up of houses and gardens.’
It is to be found by moist riversides and in copses, but will sometimes spring up in a town, self-sown, on waste ground recently cleared of buildings: the site of Kingsway and Aldwych in London, adjoining the Strand, where many buildings, centuries old, had been pulled down, was the following summer covered by the Rose Bay Willow-herb, as by a crimson mantle, though no one could explain where the seeds had come from. The same phenomenon was repeated, in Westminster, when other old buildings were demolished for improvements and the ground remained waste for a considerable time. In America, it springs up on ground recently cleared by firing, being one of the plants called ‘Fireweed’ in the United States where it is known as the Great or Spiked Willow-herb, Bay Willow, Flowering Willow, Purple Rocket, Wickup and Wicopy.The plant is in bloom for about a month.
The individual flowers are about an inch in diameter, calyx and corolla each four-parted; the stamens, eight in number, standing up, form an arch or dome over the ovary, on the green, fleshy, upper surface of which nectar is secreted. Sprengel, in 1790, showed that the flowers, which open soon after sunrise, are protenandrous, i.e. the anthers ripen first, and self-pollination would occur if insects did not visit them. Bees, who much visit the flowers in search of nectar, get smeared by the pollen, which is sticky. It is not left by them on the stigma of the same flower, however, which at this stage is a mere knob, immature and unable to receive the pollen grains. On reaching another flower, further advanced, the stigma, ripe for reception of pollen, has opened out to become a white, four-rayed cross of great distinctness and perforce receives any pollen the insect visitor may have collected as he pushes by to get to the nectar below, and the ovules thus become fertilized.
The dead flowers, when fertilization has been effected, fall off cleanly from the long, projecting, quadrangular pods, which later split into four long strands, which stretch wide apart, disclosing a mass of silky white hairs, in which are embedded the very tiny seeds, a few hairs being attached to the top of each seed. The slightest wind scatters them broadcast over the neighbourhood. All the Willow-herbs distribute their seeds in the same manner, and as the plant spreads extensively by creeping stems it is very difficult to keep it within bounds.
Uses—The leaves of the Rose Bay Willow herb have been used as a substitute and adulterant of Tea. Though no longer so employed in England, the leaves of both this species and of the Great Hairy Willow-herb (E. hirsutum, Linn.) are largely used in Russia, under the name of Kaporie Tea.
Green (Universal Herbal, 1832) reports:
‘The young shoots are said to be eatable, although an infusion of the plant produces a stupifying effect.
‘The pith when dried is boiled, and becoming sweet, is by a proper process made into ale, and this into vinegar, by the Kamtschatdales; it is also added to the Cow Parsnip, to enrich the spirit that is prepared from that plant.
‘As fodder, goats are said to be extremely fond of it and cows and sheep to eat it.
‘The down of the seeds, mixed with cotton or fur, has been manufactured into stockings, etc.’
The young shoots are boiled and eaten like asparagus.
The ale made from the plant in Kamchatka is rendered still more intoxicating with a toadstool, the Fly Agaric, Agaricus muscarius.Medicinal Action and Uses—The roots and leaves have demulcent, tonic and astringent properties and are used in domestic medicine in decoction, infusion and cataplasm, as astringents.
Used much in America as an intestinal astringent.
The plant contains mucilage and tannin.
The dose of the herb is 30 to 60 grains. It has been recommended for its antispasmodic properties in the treatment of whoopingcough, hiccough and asthma.
In ointment, it has been used locally as a remedy for infantile cutaneous affections.
By some modern botanists, this species is now assigned to a separate genus and designated: Chamcenerion angustifolium (Scop.).
Topsy’s favourite way to sit is with her back legs one step higher than her front. She seems to find it more comfortable that way.
I’ve had an idea. Under our stairs lingers a collection of bottles of various sorts of booze accumulated over the years. Some were bought duty free, some received as gifts, some abandoned by friends moving abroad. We’re going to try bottling some of our morellos in them, then we can compare morello-in-apricot-brandy, morello-in-redcurrant-gin and morello-in-dubious-Israeli-liqueur with our very successsful morello-in-kirsch-and-brandy.
By the by: a discovery by my wife. It’s easier to get the stones out of morellos if you freeze them and then let them partially unfreeze – we’ll do that and then try making morello ice-cream.
P.S. – darn fine photos for an invalid, eh?
That is really a great idea, but I wouldn’t do the comparison all in one evening if I were were you.
Redcurrent gin?
I absolutely hate stoning cherries, so I’ll try that tip. How clever of her to think of it.
Dearie, are yours ripe yet? It says in Wikipedia they don’t ripen in England until late August, but I thought that seemed a bit late in comparison to ours.
so beautiful, i wish i knew how it is called in Mongolian Geitram, i think i recall a shrub called dalii yagaan – means bending pink, it has some kind of sedative effect and people go to sit in their thickets to cure neurosis
and i’d suggest a saddle to be used when horse riding, like, safety first – the horse wellbeing next
sorry, the horse
Very similar, if you scroll down here. I think Norway must be Mongolia’s mirror-image.
Hey – I know that one. I just don’t think I’ve ever connected the name to the flower. Odd.
I should have pickied some cherries while they were ripe here. I seem to forget a lot things I should do.
I guess that means it’s called the same in Denmark. Wiki didn’t have the Danish.
A Mongolian-English online dictionary translates ‘willow herb’ as уд модны цай ‘willow tea’. Could that be it?
Przhevalsky listed it there.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/ganaaizzy/3621621348/
this looks like the same thing, no? though the colour seems a bit faded, i remember it more magenta, like in the ABG’s picture, so the native name is dalii yagaan
ud is willow, ud modnu tsai is translation from English i guess
Could well be; sounds like in any case it’s not the ordinary name for it.
Wikipedia manages not to say so, but I’m pretty sure willow herb is so-called because the leaves look like willows’. Here more so than in our host’s photo. That’s the kind of resemblance that might have been noticed independently in several places. It’s 柳兰 ‘willow orchid’, but I don’t know how to tell if that’s borrowed, either.
so-called because the leaves look like willows’
Yes, the Russian was translated as ‘angustifolia’.
We’re still experimenting with frozen morellos from last year. This year’s crop isn’t all ripe yet, though the darkest ones must be close – a few have fallen.
P.S redcurrant gin is Dutch: Bessenjenever.
P.P.S. One understairs bottle turned out to be Courvoisier, but when I tried to open it the cork crumbled away. We rescued it through a coffee filter-paper and reckon that it must be not our understairs cognac but my late parents-in-law understairs cognac.
MMcM, you’ve never tried it as tea, I gather?
I have not. I don’t drink real tea, either; chamomile is my usual choice.
i scrolled down AJP’s link and our dalii yagaan is bushy and without many leaves, and the leaves look different, or maybe the leaves come out later
so ud modnu tsai and dalii yagaan are two different plants maybe
Here are some photos from the Italian Alps.
That looks like Norway right now.
I think I might have tried that Bessenjenever even without the morellos.
We’re growing chamomile, if you ever feel like coming to tea.
Isn’t there an old song about “the wee room underneath the stairs”?
In Russia, they apparently also made an ale out of them, further fortified with toadstools like the one in the other post.
And here are a bunch more English names, including “Indian wicopy” and “Purple rocket”. Which reminds me, on “fireweed” the Wikipedia mentions forest fires. But didn’t it spring up all over London right after the Blitz? Just as “London rocket” had done after the Great Fire?
My ex-sometime-BF in Boston was very into drinking yerba mate tea.
didn’t it spring up all over London right after the Blitz?
I hadn’t heard that, but then I hadn’t heard of the plant at all until recently. I always associate that sort of thing with ‘London Pride’, probably because of the Noel Coward song. From Wikipedia, on London Pride:
London Rocket is, apparently (Wiki):
It looks, in the photograph, very much like our Arugula when it’s in flower (called Rocket in England). It’s a Brassica (cabbage fam.).
used in the Middle East to treat coughs and chest congestion
I sure never heard of it. Tobacco was in plentiful supply, not highly taxed as it is here (you could get a pack of off-brand for a dollar or so, not to mention the stuff smuggled in from Syria), and cough remedies were virtually unknown. I did suffer incredibly from cough when I was there and it was finally an Egyptian cure I used to keep it at bay once the antibiotics had done their magic. The Arabic word is “yansoon” but it is ordinary anise seed, which makes a yellowish tea. Of course there are bedouins and there are bedouins and who knows what springs from the desert floor after a rain. A B’dul bedouin once told me he knew four different plants that could substitute for tobacco, one so dangerous for westerners it could not even be given to foreigners who were experienced in recreational drugs (makes you wonder what kind of tourists we are sending out into the world these days). Mostly though the bedouins use merimeeya–sage–for everything from intestinal afflictions to broken hearts.
If Metallic is metal band, shouldn’t Brassica be a brass band?
Metallica is a
Hmm, doesn’t quite work for Silvatica, though.
I remember Language once saying that some LH commenters love — and others loathe– puns. I love them, but I’ve subsequently wondered who the loathers are.
I looked around for some rosebay willowherb photos from the Blitz, and stumbled across this page: scroll down for some Scousers in a field of it on the 25th anniversary 40 years ago. (I can’t find that photo anywhere else, including the cited source.)
It’s too developed around here for me to know it much first hand, rather than from books. For example, Thoreau. I confess that sometimes his lists of plants get a bit tedious, but there’s the discussion of unusual Maine environments, such as those in burnt-out areas and pitcher plants (New England’s native insectivore) in swamps. We used to have terraria of Sarracenia and Drosera and Nepentheses and so on, but it was just too hard to keep them from damping off. (For a time in the ’80s, interior decorators in the Northeast collected pitcher plants wild and dried them for their clients’ tables, a seriously bad idea, since those ecosystems are so delicate. Thankfully, they seem to have stopped that.)
I found it on google images, but I couldn’t find where it came from.
It’s funny that Fireweed seems to have been all over the place, from Thoreau to the Beatles, and yet I’ve only just found out about it.
Although tedious, the plant names in Latin are indispensable for anyone really interested in plants. The only exception is wild strawberries, which are conventionally referred to in French.
Who does not enjoy groaning at a particularly bad pun?
There are some species of tree that require the high heat of a forest fire to crack the shell so it can germinate. I wonder if fire has some similar purpose for this fireweed?
I think the key for this particular ecological niche is that (1) the seeds are light enough to be carried by the wind into the newly open area, and (2) they thrive in the nitrogen-rich ashes.
Sorry, I mean potassium-rich.
Okay, a little more info. It’s their last photo session, 22 August 1969, at Tittenhurst Park.
seems to have been all over the place, …, and yet I’ve only just found out about it.
The jokey term for this is diegogarcity.
I’d have to go with mauricity.
There’s quite a nice blog about Tittenhurst.
I’ve seen fireweed in both Vermont and Alaska (it’s Alaska’s state flower, I believe), neither of which has many forest fires. Back in the day my boy scout troop leader, who had a Ph.D. in environmental biology, ripped up fireweed wherever he spotted it. He said it was an invasive species (at least in Vermont) and was crowding out local species.
Q: Why is the Forget-Me-Not [Alaska’s] state flower and not … Fireweed?
A: Yukon Territorial flower.
Boy, you certainly belonged to a more academic scout troop than I did.
Fireweed is even edible! It is a favorite browse for Alaska’s moose population and I can attest that my domestic goats absolutely adore it as well.
Yes; I can see I’m going to have to test this out with our lot.
I stand corrected. Someone gave me false information while I was there.
Yes, I much preferred this scout troop over the one in my own town, which was militantly anti-intellectual. I was lucky to have a church that strongly encourages science and scholarship, and its members in turn had a troop that offered a nice mix of professional and blue-collar backgrounds. Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have stuck it out all the way to Eagle.
My wife asked me if I actually learned how to make a fire with sticks in the Boy Scouts, and I said proudly that I did. Learned a bunch of Akeela lore, too. I remember none of it, sadly.
Someone gave me false information while I was there.
You should stay here, where you don’t run that risk.
I was a member of a hopeless troop. We once went camping, but we couldn’t light the fire; I think it was too damp or we lost the matches, there was certainly no possibility of doing it with sticks. I remember we walked past Charles Darwin’s house, Downe House, and Biggin Hill aerodrome, famous from the Battle of Britain. It rained hard the entire time we stayed (overnight); we abandoned the camp at dawn, soaking wet because the tents leaked so badly — or so well. Everyone in the troop (except me) spoke French most of the time and the troop leader wore a kilt (he was from Liverpool and knew people who might possibly have met The Beatles). This was all well before Monty Python came out. I learnt to tie lots of knots that, if I remembered them, would be tremendously useful nowadays.
WARNING: The following comment is a self-parody. Do not swallow.
Crown, now you’ve got me worried about making puns all the time on the LH blog. If it’s making some people uncomfortable, then I think maybe we should collectively decide to just stop doing it.
I do know that Nijma asked Who does not enjoy groaning at a particularly bad pun?. I agree with her in a way, but I really don’t think it’s something to be taken lightly. We need to respect the wishes of the entire LH community.
You know, as I examine my own behavior, I find that I’m not really all that addicted to puns outside this one setting. For my part, I’m inclined to blame it all on Noetica’s bad influence. It might help everybody to put this punning behind us if we can find a way to make him the scapegoat.
No problem finding goats. I certainly blame Noetica’s influence: he puns in more languages than anyone else.
No problem finding goats. …
I herd that.
Yes, I’ve known many people who claimed their scouting experience was one of huddling under a rocky outcropping in the rain, eating cold hot dogs and wondering if their feet would ever be dry again. I certainly knew that side of things too, but I suspect I was more willing than some of my peers to appreciate, at least in retrospect, that that sort of experience also has its benefits. There’s actually an oblique mention of this in the final Potter book where Ron abandons Harry and Hermione because he’s sick of camping.
Yes, Russians and Russified expats still drink “Ivan’s tea.” It is hard to describe flavors, but I’d say it is very mellow, a bit sweet, stronger than chamomile but in the same taste ball park. Kind of a twiggier chamomile, with a slight dustiness. I usually add it to regular tea to make a less biting brew. It is supposed to be relaxing. Don’t know about that, but it is very pleasant and tasty.
kidding !
Shakespeare was very fond of the pun.
So who was Ivan?
Crown: Congratulations on your rapid recovery.
Also, a blanket thank-you for the beauty of your blog. Every()day glimpses of heaven on earth.
Nij, Shakespeare’s contemporary Ben Jonson was known for punning not just in his plays but in real life. A friend once challenged him:
Friend: Make me a pun.
Ben: ‘Pun what subject?
Friend: Oh, the king.
Ben: The king is not a subject, the king is the king.
Our church too had a good boy scout troop; my dad was the scout leader. Among other things, they used to do sub-zero camping, which if you think about it can’t be done in a lot of locations. When a family friend died of cancer, her husband started getting active in the troop also, and the troop got its biology expert. I remember going along on a field trip to a small patch of virgin prairie that had been preserved by a farmer somewhere and seeing the biology professor identify plants that didn’t grow anywhere else.
Our girl scout troop didn’t do anything at all interesting–our “camping” trip was tents in my debate partner’s back yard, with our dads checking up on our moms every half hour. I did learn one ghost story: “Johnny and the liver.”
My brother liked to show off what he learned in boyscouting, so everything I know I learned from him. I can identify a bunch of edible weeds (but no way am I going to eat them) and I have one good knot that works for just about everything–it’s adjustable and I think it has a “clove hitch” at the end of it.
I can’t rub two sticks together either; I carry BBQ lighting fluid.
I enjoyed the Wolf Cubs and learnt to walk with a book on my head, to play British Bulldog and not to eat mole.
Why not eat mole?
We played “Red Rover” which wikipedia says is a form of British Bulldog, but certainly not in scouting.
Nijma, the adjustable knot you’re referring to is the taut-line hitch, and was always my favorite. I too had the benefit of snowshowing out into the middle of some state park for subzero camping every winter. I’ve heard your complaint about girl scouts from all corners, by the way; if my daughter expresses an interest in joining, my wife and I will have to make sure she and her friends end up with a skill set comparable to what they teach in boy scouts.
Snow Leopard, what’s a good knot book? The Ashley Book of Knots seems to be the standard, according to Wikipedia.
Shockingly, I do not own a knot book — this seems to be one of those rare things I learned by doing rather than by reading about it. Since I have a weakness for encyclopedic compendia, I would choose the book you’ve cited rather than settle for something that describes a mere 50 or 100 knots.
The mole you should not eat, because of its utter foulness, is the wee velvet chentleman.
Snowleopard,
Yes, a type of taut-line hitch, sort of like the one Wikipedia identifies as Magnus Hitch, only we used at least three turns, sometimes more, for the first part of the knot. It slides better and it’s easier to identify which way to slide it after being in the weather for a while, or in the case of my tent, stuffed in a bag, which I invariably unroll in the dark. It also works better for skinny nylon rope, the kind on tent lines, which tends to be stiff and untie itself.
knot references–
It looks like the Boy Scout Handbook has good stuff–I seem to remember a demo at some Webelos function–but they also reference Ashley, among others:
http://www.scouting.org/scoutsource/BoyScouts/AdvancementandAwards/MeritBadges/mb-PION.aspx
The fishing knots are a different merit badge though, looks like their reference for that was written by an Australian name Wilson:
http://www.scouting.org/scoutsource/BoyScouts/AdvancementandAwards/MeritBadges/mb-FISH.aspx
And yes I can pitch a tent, build a fire, cook over a fire with either stick or aluminum foil, and make s’mores, which is the only thing you really have to know. In all fairness we learned a lot of it at girl scout day camp. Our troop had Issues that would only have been resolved at the expense of hard feelings that would have telegraphed though school, church and job, and resulted in possibly yet another 25-year Norwegian feud.
Noetica’s puns:
I highly recomend the FoxLingo toolbar for sorting out Noetica’s posts. When my other computer was flaking out on me, I was unable to right click, highlight, or paste, and had to stop reading Noetica’s comments completely–and just when things were starting to get interesting with all that coarse bread, melting cheese and seaweed.
Oh, dear, I forgot that last serial comma after “cheese”. Do you suppose the prescriptivists will notice?
I highly recomend the FoxLingo toolbar for sorting out Noetica’s posts.
I tried a few bi- and a couple of tri-lingual puns at LH a few times, but unless the languages in question have at least some currency with the audience it’s very much a case of “Be like the 22nd elephant with heatedc value in space – bark!” If one’s devastating punnery yields only a “WTF?” then WTF is the point?
IpsoLutely, StuartNZ. I’m in accord with that. No point fretting to produce a completely impunnetrable poast, nor something so straightforward that any dumbsel could have spun it into the thread. Dunne well, it is “the art that hides itself”: with some glitterings that are obvious and some, more ingenious, that are cunningly concealed from all but the committed connasseur.
The hole thing grows entiresome soon enough.
Oh, dear, I forgot that last serial comma after “cheese”.
Nij! Only rarely are all of the commas in such a sequence called “serial comma”: usually just the last one (that you omitted). See this note (which I added, of course) at the Wikipedia article .
(I retract that last space. Space is a precious resource, not to be squandered – or so this minute input box would lead us to think.)
:)
Yes, Uncle, of course I read it a long time ago, wanting to look up the “Oxford” part of it, and I also seem to remember you having a very definite opinion about the serial comma, although I didn’t know you were the keeper of that one along with the apostrophe. I never really liked leaving them out–I thought the only reason was to save money on ink– but I also always thought they were optional until some comment you made about it. Then it clicked. Of course they shouldn’t be optional.
But that particular paragraph of mine upthread has another serial comma after “highlight” as in ” right click, highlight, or paste”, (so I can prove I use them, ugye?) so even if you don’t like serial commas, at least “coarse bread, melting cheese, and seaweed” should have one for the sake of parallel construction or consistency or whatever.
Ah yes. Now I see. Alles klar (all relaks).
Dr No: this minute input box
I can’t remember if I told you that I investigated getting a proper, big one. It would cost money, if it’s even available, money that is currently being saved up to buy a macro lens for my wife’s camera. I’m sorry. On the bright side, inscribed underneath the box WordPress has written, for philosophers like yourself, the motto: You are the author of this post.
to go back about 50 postings… empty: good question. Don’t know why it’s Ivan’s tea. My immediate guess is that it’s “everyman’s” (“everyone’s”) tea, but that’s folk etymology at work.
In upstate NY the boys had boy scouts and Indian Guides. I was very jealous. We girl scouts had a camp and did learn how to make fires and find edible plants… but it wasn’t as much fun. On the other hand, I learned the best marching song/rhyme in the world:
Left! Left!
Left my wife and twenty six children,
Sixteen beds without any gingerbread,
Thought I did
Right! Right!
Right by my country,
By golly, by jingo
And then I
Left! Left!…
You chant it out so you step with your left foot on “Left” etc. It’s very silly, but has stayed in my head 45 years. Anyone ever hear of it, or was it dreamed up at the… come on, memory… YES Hidden Lake Camp?
BTW, did boy scouts have bug juice?
mab, what’s the tune?
Is ‘Ivan’ used in Russia and Russian to mean a national everyman? In Norwegian, they’re Kari and Ola Nordmann.
empty, thank you for your nice remark, I’m grateful.
You are the author of this post.
Deep. I’ll have to meditate on that. (Why do people give me things to meditate on all the time?)
Sorry Crown, yes: we did do the thing about small boxes before. I don’t mean to be fussy, and I appreciate your blog. But this is a very common design flaw. I can’t imagine what the programmers of these things are dreaming about. (Like the narrow input box in MSN. Sheesh.)
(Hey, do you want some more photos? Of Noetic travels in China? I’m planning to sort them out and assemble the good ones.)
Hell, yes.
Send them to dsanne@broadpark.no
Strewth, righto. Give me a while, and I’ll send a selection.
I can always split it into several posts, if it’s a lot.
Don’t know why it’s Ivan’s tea. My immediate guess is that it’s “everyman’s” (”everyone’s”) tea, but that’s folk etymology at work.
Vasmer (or “Uncle Max” if you use go to him for advice as often as I do) suggests that it may be from Ivangorod. He doesn’t explain why.
@ mr crown — no tune, just marching chant
@languagehat — didn’t even think to check Uncle Max. Instead of everyman’s tea, it’s everyman’s everycity tea… Well, I’m just dorking around.
Yeah, Ivan Ivanovich Ivanov is John Doesky. Maria Ivanovna Ivanova is his lovely wife Jane.
Hm. Need to click on Kari and Ola to get the dope on them.
I, for one, would like to see some of Noetica’s snakes or other venomous creatures.
I want to see one of Noetica.
The only even remotely military thing we had for hiking was “left, right, hippity-hop” where you change feet every other step. It might have been part of a Three Stooges routine.
We did sing the Happy Wanderer:
http://www.scoutsongs.com/lyrics/happywanderer.html
I was a cub scout for two years in New Jersey. My most vivid memories of that experience are (1) the annual “Klondike Derby”, in which teams of scouts from all over the district competed somehow in the snow, demonstrating assorted outdoorsy skills and hauling around some kind of sled laden with I forget what in a manner vaguely reminiscent of Alaskan dogsled racing, and in mu case at least getting cold and bored; and (2) a cub scout Halloween party that my friend and I chose to attend in drag. (We did not know that word. We just thought it would be amusing for a boy to dress as a girl. If memory serves, we were teased about it to some extent at the party.)
I then had one year of not very memorable boy-scouting, which ended when my family moved to Connecticut. For one reason or another (I can think of a lot, actually) I did not join a troop there.
I do like the woods. I do know to rub two sticks together, but I do not know how to make fire by doing so.
Oh Jeez, forgot the Happy Wanderer. There was also the one about friends, sung as a round: Make new friends but keep the old, One is silver and the other’s gold…