Papyrus Redux

Annamaria Getting Ready for Bouchercon

You know: Whenever we go on a trip, we pay for our being absent from regular life: tasks that need to be done because you won't be home to do them, preparing to make the most of the time away, to say nothing of the catching up once we return home.  Today's repost is of one I put up just before leaving for Bouchercon ten years ago.  I am in the same position this year.  Working hard to be ready for the conference and paying my dues because I will be away for five days.  Here a second time is my pean to a plant.  BTW: I have seven of them growing in my place today.  And there are many from the same original in the homes of friends and neighbors.   

Here comes  largely a photo essay, given the fact that I will leave in an hour for the airport and LA, on my way to Bouchercon.  It's Saturday as I write, by the way.

Papyrus growing in a well in the Ortigia, Siracusa, Sicily.

I have loved the very word "papyrus" since my fourth grade history book showed me a picture and told me the story of it.

Papyrus figures in my ancestral history.  My paternal grandparents were Siracusani--from what had been the Greek city state of Syracuse.   Here are some pictures of papyrus growing in fresh water a few feet from the Ionian harbor where a great battle of the Peloponnesian War took place.  Some posit that that fresh water so close to the salt accounts for the founding of the city way back in prehistory.

Papyrus in fresh water near the harbor.

The scene of a battle in the ancient war.

During the dreadful AIDS plague of the 80s, David and I lost many friends, including his best buddy from high school and his partner.  When the second of those dear men was dying, he told us to take whatever we wanted from the house.  I chose the papyrus plant.  It lives on.  It has of late become part of the decor in my Egyptian revival dining room.

The gift of Bob and JP.

The mantle in the dining room.

American illustration art: complete with pharaoh and papyrus

Of late, it has given birth, in a manner of speaking.  A few months ago I noticed that in the middle of the fronds, tiny fronds had emerged.  I wondered what would happen if I cut off those stalk tops and put them in water.  Magic is what took place.  So now I have four plants.  The babies have the look of bonsai papyrus.  It won't stay that way, but I wish one would.  What a centerpiece it would make a dinner parties!!

A baby at one month

Two months

Three months and gorgeous.

The Strange Case of the Desert Fox

Annamaria, pinch-hitting for Susan on Sunday

A bit of explanation: Our dear Susan Spann reached out for help because she is in Japan and can’t log on to Blogger to post for herself today.  So I agreed to fill in, knowing full well that a day will come soon, when I am on the road and will need her to return the favor.  For now, I offer you a mystery in the hopes that you will have some advice about how solve it.

You see the desert fox may be living under cover in my kitchen.

No.  This is not about him:

 Generalfeldmarshall  Rommel died over seventy years ago.  This concerns something currently alive and eating.

I have posted here before about the papyrus plants growing in my apartment.

When I am out of town, I move two of them from my dining room to the kitchen where they can soak up some direct sun in front of the window.   I have had these plants for over thirty years without incident.  But when I returned last month from Bouchercon and Mississippi, I found something I had never seen before. 

The fronds of my papyrus ordinarily look like this:

But something had been chewing on the ones nearest the kitchen window.

MMM, I thought.   I wonder what could have done that. 

So I did an experiment to see if whatever it was was still at it.  I moved one perfectly whole frond to the place were the chewed ones had sat.  The next day I found the evidence.

My Google search (what eats papyrus?) turned up little to go on.  A couple of Google Books covers and pages:

 

No help there.  Only one plausible answer: according to Google the Egyptian Desert Fox (or fennec) eats papyrus!  It gave no other answer.  MMM.

 

I read up on this critter, and found it  has another feature that coincides with my experience—it is nocturnal.  And it could even  turn out to useful.  In addition to plants, it also eats insects and rodents.  Eggs, too, but since it has not learned to open the fridge, I think tomorrow’s omelet ingredients are safe.

There are some things about the fennec fox that could turn out to be alarming.  It can jump up two feet high and leap four.  Given which, I hope the one in my kitchen looks more like this—

 

…than like this—

The range of the desert fox might make you think it implausible as an explanation for my lost papyrus fronds.

On the other hand, this little guy is available as an exotic house pet.  But then how could someone else’s household fennec have made its way into my apartment?  Another mystery to be reckoned with.

So far I have not discovered any other creature that comes close to a plausible answer.