The Finland Trip

I returned from Finland a few days ago. I attended a workshop for young scientists in my field, which was held at University of Helsinki's forestry field station. The field station, called Hyytiälä (pronounced hoo'-tee-ah-la) was about 2.5 hours by bus North of Helsinki.

Signpost to Hyytiälä.

The field station was build in the early 1910s for the university forestry students' summer courses. The oldest part of campus reminds me of an US Midwestern farm. The forestry students, in fact, have an agriculture component to their studies, and keep sheep during the summer and harvest them in the fall.

The barn and the old bell tower.

The field station is located next to Lake Kuivajärvi, which is one of 187,888 glacial lakes in Finland.

The forest is 90% pine and spruce, with a few birch and poplars thrown in. Since wood is abundant, the signs at the stations are wood relief carvings, really beautiful.

A map of the station as a wood carving.

Finland is the most North I've ever been (about 61 degrees latitude at Hyytiälä), and because the season was summer, the sun is visible for all but a few hours every day. The sun set around 11 PM and rose around 3 AM. Even the night wasn't very dark, only twilight. Most of these photos were taken mid-evening (9 PM-ish), so you can see for yourself.

In the 1990s, the forest field station was expanded and a SMEAR research station was build (SMEAR = Station for Measuring Forest Ecosystem-Atmosphere Relations). It is a unique site in that it is comprehensive, and able to measure many of the inputs and outputs of the forest ecosystem and in as many measureable parameters as possible. It is located in a boreal forest a short hike from the forestry field station.

One of the central features is the main cabin, show below. It was made from two log cabin kits put together. There is little insulation in this design. In fact, the wood is thick enough and the instruments produce enough heat that electrical heating is used only on the coldest winter days. There are bars on the roof of the cabin, which prevent snow from falling sliding off the roof when it melts and damaging the inlet ports. Most houses that I saw in Finland also have a ladder attached to their roofs, so that homeowners can shovel the snow.

Main Cabin

Another main feature is the 72 meter tower, shown below. The tower is tall enough to rise high above the forest canopy, which enables measurements at the atmosphere/canopy interface. Each crossbar on the tower has at least one instrument on the end. Instrument maintenance has an added excitement--to maintain the instruments, someone scales the tower, pulls the crossbar back, and then has to decide whether to fix the instrument on the spot or bring it down.

72-m sampling tower

One of the goals of the station is to measure the energy fluxes (carbon, nutrient, water) in and out of the forest. For this reason, it is important to not disturb the ecosystem, and these walkways were built. Each sideboard leads to a sampling device, often the rainwater or leaf litter collectors. It was like a maze to me.

Forest Floor Walkway

Sauna. As far as I can tell, sauna is a daily activity for many Finns. I was told that most homes have a sauna, and there are four saunas at Hyytiälä. They are separated by gender, although families usually take sauna together. The Finnish researchers prefer saunas heated by woodburning stoved to electric or gas. I did try sauna, and it was nice, although I think I enjoyed it more for the swim in Lake Kuivajärvi afterwards.

The food. Since I ate at a cafeteria-style dining hall most of the time I was there, I don't really know if I had typical Finnish food. I presume it would be a version of what Finns would eat at home. If that's the case, I've learned that boiled potatoes are very important in a Finnish diet. Most meals (lunches and dinners) included some chicken or beef dish with a creamy sauce, and it was served with potatoes. Fish was not as common as a I'd hoped, although a couple of fish dishes were served. Lettuce salads were served at all lunches and dinners, too, although only one kind of salad dressing: thousand island. I don't know whether it's the national favorite, or if salad dressing is not eaten by Finns and it was a concession to the Americans. Puddings are common desserts, although they are flavored differently than I'm used to. They are less sweet (although sugar is offered with them). Usually, a fruit preserve was served with them, too, sometimes whipped cream. The flavor of the puddings were different, too. They tended to be flavored less and differently. I had one that sort of tasted like prunes, and another that I'm told was flavored with rose hips.

I did eat reindeer, in a wild mushroom and cream soup. The soup was very good, and although I didn't get a good sense of what the reindeer tasted like, it reminded me of prosciutto. I was told that eating reindeer is reserved for special occasion dinners.

I also ate Karjalanpiirakka for breakfast a couple of times. I didn't quite figure out what was in them, but I think Karjalanpiirakka must be Finnish for "tasty gooey buttery pastry pie."

The meal structure and timing was different, too. There are 4-5 meals per day. Breakfast at 7 AM, lunch at 11 AM, coffee and a pastry or dessert at 1 PM, and dinner at 5 PM. At the field station, a fifth meal, a late-night snack was served at 10 PM, although it was mainly for the hard-working forestry students.

At literally every meal, there was what looked like to me to be a sandwich spread: cheeses, cold cuts, bread, plus cucumbers and peppers and breads. Even at breakfast. At first I thought it was an option for people who didn't like the main dish being served, so that they could make a sandwich, but I saw the people from the Nordic countries taking a few slices of the "sandwich" platters at each meal, and eating them more like hors d'ouvres, and I was told it was common in Finland to do this. I came to rather like this, and by the end of the week, I'd have a slice of cheese wrapped in cucumbers for breakfast.

The flights. Oh my, the flights. I have a new least-favorite airport in the world. Before this trip, it was O'Hare; now it is Heathrow.

Heathrow is a beast. There is no short layover at Heathrow, especially if you have to change terminals. To change planes, it goes something like this: exit the plane (and this is the last point where it stopped being like any other airport I've seen before). Take a series of ramps and escalators, stairs and lifts to arrive at the gate. (Note this is just the gate; this is not the main part of the terminal where you'd go to transport the next terminal). Walk to the terminal, which can take 10-15 minutes. Finally, you're at the arrival terminal, and you hit a long line at a security checkpoint. Wait, wait, wait, and finally go through the security procedure (which was on par to a US security checkpoint for terminal entry). After security there is another walk and escalator to the terminal transfer point. At this point, you have at least a ten-minute wait and a ten-minute bus ride to transfer to your departure terminal, more if there's a long line. After exiting the bus, there are more ramps and escalators, reminiscent of the exit gate, and finally you're at your terminal. Heathrow does not set gate numbers for flights until 30-40 minutes before boarding, so it is here that you find your gate number. Once you have your gate number, you have a walk between a 5 and 15 minutes long to your gate to board your plane, and this is with moving walkways. At the gate, there is an additional security checkpoint (instituted only after recent events), which is the open your carry-on, turn on all electronics to prove they're not bombs, take of your shoes and pat-down type security checkpoint. After that, you're finally ready to board the plane. Whew.

In the future, I don't think I'll choose a flight through Heathrow if I have an option, and if I don't, I wouldn't choose one without at least a two-hour layover if I could afford to miss my flight, and no less than a three-hour layover if I couldn't afford to miss my flight. I had a 90 minute layover at Heathrow on my return, and I made it only because I ran the whole thing, because my departing flight was running late, and because I probably lucked out a couple a places. My checked luggage, however, was not so lucky, and of this writing (home for about 60 hours), I haven't received it yet. (Edited to add: luggage was returned after a short sidetrip through Memphis almost five days late.)

Other than Heathrow, my flights were fine. Everything ran a little late, but I think a little late is the new on-time for airline travel. A couple of other random notes about the flights:
-A two-hour layover in O'Hare is pushing your luck if you have to go through customs with checked baggage. I actually think I made it to my connecting flight on time because I lost my luggage. Without checked luggage, I had nothing to declare at customs and I didn't have to recheck my bag, which meant I was able to glide through passport control instead of waiting.
-Filed under coincidences in a small world, during the London flight, I sat next to a gentlemen who has the same career as me (though in a different sector) and lives in the same town as my undergrad university. We didn't know that many people in common though.
-Heathrow has a snippiest-sounding public announcement system: "Passenger So-in-so, please proceed immediately to your gate. You are delaying your flight departure and your fellow passengers." Imagine that with a prim British accent and simmering disapproval. It makes you feel guilty even if you're not the person who is misbehaving.
-My travel experience was bracketed by encounters with obnoxious drunk people. At Heathrow security queue, there was college-aged man a few people in front of me who had purchased duty-free vodka on his London fight, and did not know that you can't bring liquids of that size with you if you have a connecting flight. Rather than waste his vodka, he'd decided to drink it while waiting in line for the security check. He loudly let everyone know the injustice of the situation, and that he ought to be trusted since he was an American and from the Bronx and not to be messed with. I think he's lucky that made it through security without being subjected to a body cavity search.

And for my last flight home, I sat in front of drunk Shiners (which, I'm told, is an oxymoron), who provided entertainment by singing barbershop quartets while we waited for a ground hold to clear. I thought it was the most fitting ending to my trip. And this blog entry.

Operation Batwatch Addendum

First, an update to Operation: Batwatch. No sign of activity. Yet. We may have installed the bathouse too late in the year. Also J. thinks the bathouse may not be warm enough for bats. Considering a move of the bathouse to more direct sunlight or painting it black.

Second, we inaugurated Operation: Wrenwatch on Father's Day, and we're already seeing signs of life. J. placed the wrenhouse in the dogwood tree. I saw a wren in that tree less than a week later. And now we see that something is stuffing twigs into the wrenhouse.

Dead and Dying Plants R' Us?

Sheesh, what happened to the thuja next to the patio?We've been a little dry in the past few weeks, but this spot is watered regularly (the annuals are in this bed), so it's not that dry. Plus, this thuja was here when we bought the house, so I would assume it has an established root supply. The other thujas in our yard look fine, I don't suspect disease. It is only this thuja that appears to be throwing in the towel.

The herb garden, on the other hand, is doing well. I haven't started harvesting yet for drying, but I froze six bags of basil pesto last weekend.

Ceiling Fan #3

The final fan, installed in O.'s room.

This is a low profile fan, which we chose because the room is small and we thought that it might be safer for O. if the blades were closer to the ceiling. Another advantage of the low profile fan is that it seemed much easier to install than the other two with a downrod.

However, this fan doesn't seem to have as much oomph as the first two. The other fans feel like you're sleeping in wind tunnel, but this gives a slight breeze. Maybe it's the height of the fan, and it ought to be lower for the room? Then again, maybe it's the fact that it has four blades instead of five blades. I guess hindsight is twenty-twenty etc.; I just thought that a higher fan would reduce the chance of O. snagging the small objects and stuffed pets on the blades.

Though, really, an extra 12 inches isn't going to change the chances of that much.

Edited to add mental note: check that the fan is not in the reverse position.

Edited to add response to mental note: we just checked, and nope, the fan is not in wrong position.

Lighting Issues

This is the lighting fixture that is located in the dining room end of the living/dining room, or the pretentiously misnamed "great room."


J. and I have issues with this fixture. For one, it is probably a bathroom fixture masquerading as a dining room light, but it is not convincing anyone. And since the dining room was probably the former living room, the light is installed at a height that might be good for a sofa. As a result, the fixture imparts a nasty glare visible to everyone sitting at the dining room table. That's just crappy ambiance.

With our upcoming painting vacation, we've decided to address this issue, since we'll be tearing apart this area anyway. We can:
a.) Rotate the fixture 180 degrees. The light will point upward instead of downward. This might take care of the annoying glare problem. However, it means we will be effectively lighting the ceiling of the room. This is also the least challenging solution, technically speaking.
b.) Move the the fixture three feet higher on the wall. The thought here is that the light might diffuse better and light the table more evenly. Or it might just mean that the lightglare is more likely to bother tall people. This could be a challenge to our electrical installation and wood paneling repair skills, but it would be worth it.
c.) Replace the ugly brownish vases with slightly less ugly with white vases. Then we could buy lower wattage bulbs for less glare and the white vases would diffuse the light better, keeping the room bright. And if nothing else, at least they won't look dirty even after they've been dusted. This is also the most expensive of options, but it is doable.
d.) Do nothing. Paint around the fixture and leave as is. But really, what's the point of that?

Except for d.), all combinations of these are options. We could do a.) and c.), or a.) and b.), or b.) c.), or heck, all three.

A Mouse Fart of Post

No real reason to post, except that I could no longer allow that photo of the poor dead Japanese maple tree to be the first thing one sees. So, I leave you with a photo of a pretty thing instead.

This is a closeup of my potted scented geranium plant. If I pretend that I'm six inches tall and squint, it could be the maple.

Nothing new here. We're busy with work and life and have little time at the moment to anything but maintain. Big projects are in the works, including a painting vacation in late July or August. More on that later.

Mostly Dead, Slightly Alive, or All Dead?

Here's a photo of the buds that J. claims to be a sign of life from our Japanese maple tree.
It has looked this way for at least a week. We're going to give it another week, but it's probably time to go through its clothes and look for loose change.

Updates and Briefs

1. The weather this weekend was so pleasant that E. the Cat (shown below guarding the poppy and hollyhock seedlings) is sitting just outside the screened door and plucking at it, which is her way of suggesting that I should be outside, too. So, I'll be brief.

2.) The latest from the herb garden. Moderate growth. And I have noooo idea from where those two additional varieties of basil came. Nope, not me, scout's honor.

3.) My birthday present from J.: trellis plus clematis. I also planted two of the moonflowers started from seed on each side of it.

4.) We trimmed the giant bonsai tree this weekend, and it looks better. It is only about half-completed with shade plants, but the idea is evident.

5.) We had our first hummingbird sighting yesterday (feeder only shown below, lacking photographic evidence of hummingbirds).

6.) The neighbors think we've gone batty. We've installed a bathouse a week ago, in hopes of attracting the cute little things to eat their share of our mosquito population. It is now the beginning of week 2 of Operation: Batwatch, and still no signs of them.

7.) It was decided that O. needed a sandbox. Immediately. The first time he played in it, he was silent for 45 minutes. Which only occurs otherwise while he sleeps (and even then--he has inherited his mother's abilities to talk and sing in his sleep). I have to admit the sandbox is a nice way to entertain him for a few minutes.

8.) For Mom--my hyacinth bean plant has twirled its way to the top of the trellis now.

9.) Surely there is no better combination than spring, being two, and hiding in the lilies.

Doomed?

This is Japanese Maple, one week post-transplant. Oh dear.
The few green leaves that were on the tree when it arrived have shriveled up, despite judicious watering.

Keep your fingers crossed, or your branches crossed, or whatever.

The Japanese Maple

At some point in life, I decided I really like Japanese maple trees. I like the shape of their leaves and their color range, and I like the tidy but relaxed structure in compact habit. I've wanted one near my home for years, so I could watch the leaves change during the growing season and appreciate their beauty.

When we moved last summer, we finally had a plan to live somewhere long enough to justify the purchase. Note that this is the highest amount I've spent to purchase a single living thing. And it came in a box. Or as J. said, "There's a tree in there?"

Yes, J., there is a tree in that box.

We diligently followed the directions from the nursery. We placed the tree in a shady, windless spot for three days to allow it to adjust to being free from its cardboard box and packing popcorn prison. We watered it until it was the roots were soaked. After the third day, we dug a hole exactly 3 times wider and 1.5 times deeper than the root ball. We fertilized and enriched the soil with humic matter and mudded-in the roots to prevent air pockets. Finally, we lovingly created a dam to collect and direct water. I would have gladly mulched if it weren't for the rock project, and I'm out of mulch at the moment. And voila.

Yes, there is a tree in that photo.

Tipsy Pots

I found a use for the terra cotta pots that came with the house.


Link to the instructions.

I used a fence stabilizing rod instead of rebar, mainly because it was what I could find quickly at the hardware store with O. in tow. I wish would have held out for the rebar, because I could have used a narrower piece. Because I chose the rod instead, the holes in the pots were too small and I had to use dremmel tool to enlarge them. Oh well, live and learn.

You know it's time the mow the grass when...

...your two-year old is captivated by the nearly (toddler) knee-high "helicopters" growing in the yard.

Ceiling Fan #2

New fan in the master bedroom.

Two down, one to go. O.'s room is next.

Miscreant Irises

I have a problem with irises. Although I like the flower, the foliage doesn't do anything for me, and the foliage lasts a long time. Plus, they have always seem to be a bit promiscuous and untidy in their division, which offends my Victorian sensibilities, I guess.

Imagine my delight when we bought a house with an entire bed of irises.

It's not a big area, maybe 8 feet, but it was on both sides of a fence and a mess. My strategy was 1.) clean out the beds on both sides of the fence, 2.) insert shrubs that can stand up to the irises on the East side of fence 3.) replant a small fraction of the bulbs along with some heirloom irises (for sentimental reasons) on the West side of the fence and 4.) hope for the best.

The irises won. See irises below, crowding the spirea.



And encroaching on the peony and hosta territory.



One of the heirloom irises bloomed--the first. This iris have been passed down from my great-grandmother. It smells like grape Kool-Aid.

The Herb Garden

One of my goals this year was to start an herb garden. I don't have enough time to take care of a larger vegetable garden, but I really wanted to have fresh herbs, and I always will remember Mom's wonderful-smelling herb garden.

Last fall I converted one of the few sunny spots of our backyard to a flower/herb bed. The previous owner had left a mound of daylilies here, as if they had dug them out of the ground and then didn't know what to do with them. J. and Dad cut back the cedar tree on the other side of the fence to bring in some more light. I spaded the area and installed the border. The soil here is hideous clay, so I added humic material. We planted some of the rescued daylilies along the fence, then added a weigela and a few other perennials. Mom provided chives and sedum from her garden.

My plan was to start herb seeds indoors and than transfer outside. However, I was a little busier than I projected this winter, mainly due to an opportunity at work that was too good to miss. When the weather turned unseasonably warm in March, I assumed winter was over and thought, "Well, heck, just throw the seeds in the ground." A respectable plan, until the freeze. Although nothing had sprouted when the temperatures dropped that week, the poor little seedlings probably never stood a chance.

So, I decided I'd replace what I'd lost with potted herbs. Photo from last night:

It's mostly mulched now, just a few spots by the fence. The bare spots on the ground are the few seedlings that did survive (marjoram, thyme, and catnip) plus a couple species for which I haven't found the replacements (tarragon and lemon balm).

I think I have gone a little crazy trying to fill in all the gaps with something green. J. now longer allows me to go to Lowes without a chaperone. I added a few annuals (marigolds and lantana) for some color and I couldn't resist a blue-eyed grass plant. And there are some perennials on the edges of the garden (out of frame) that I didn't photograph and I won't admit to.

Labelled version of photo:

I've been targeting culinary herbs plus herbs that are supposed to have mosquito repellant oils. I've read that you can run your hands through catnip or lemon balm and other herbs and fend off (partially) the bites.

So, that's where it stands. Can't wait to see what it looks like in a month or two.

Annuals

I planted annuals in the rosebed (the former rose-rockbed) today. I pulled back the plastic under the mulch and found a surprise.


The orange cable. It must be the cable/internet/phone line that our cable provider could not find when we moved here. Also, there's that a white plastic pipe with a square top, which reminds me of a gas release for a sewer. What is that?



The cable extends almost to the fireplace, and then I lost it again. I shoved the cable back under the tarp, so it now sits at the edge of the fold of the tarp (about 14" away from the cement). Mental note: don't dig there.

On with the annuals. I add some potting soil to the clay to increase the odds of survival. Then, I planted one six-pack of coleus (back row) and two six packs of impatients (pink and white mix in the front). I left them high relative to the ground surface, to account for the mulch.



The next step was a little tricky. I cut the "Ts" and "Hs" into the tarp so that the plants would poke through. Then, I pull the tarp back and rake the mulch back into place. (In retrospect, I should have cut the tarp first, then planted the annuals.)



Wow, they look so tiny there.

Neatest Park Ever

One of the lesser-known treasures of our area is the Rochman Park. It was built by a local investor as memorial to his son. This park has a Dungeons and Dragons theme, complete with dueling wizards, dragons, and gnomes. The main feature is a castle, which means Owen is in heaven.


The castle. (Pardon the bad photoshopping on this one. I think I focused on a cloud instead of the castle, and the castle become too dark to see anything. I lightened everything so that you could see the castle, but this made the sky look strange. I'm sure there's a way around it, but I need to learn more about photoshop first. Or, I could just learn to take better photos in the first place. Never seem to find time for either.)


Owen loves this place.


I like the ogre guarding the castle entrance.


The castle is a maze. What you see in the photo above is likely no less than four different paths through the castle. And that's just a part of one corner. Children and husbands easily become lost. Fortunately, there is only a few exits, so at least they're contained.


View looking upwards at one of the towers.


The level of detail is insanely amazing. Everywhere you look, there is something else to see. In the photo above there is a goblin, towerguarding a corner.


A finer point; a handmade tile.


Still astounded by the details; this is one type of the light fixtures.


Again, sorry for the surreal-looking photoshop job. What I was trying to photograph is the flying dragon, carrying a skull in its claws.


The park is set in a grove, and the trees complement the area perfectly. Above: a carving in one of trees.


Our little monkey, scrambling up a knight's effigy mound.


And sliding down the mulch.

That's all the photos. There is much more, just too much to take in at one time.

Brrr.

We've had a cold snap, with night temperatures in the 20s oF for the past three nights. Last night was supposed to be the last of the freezing temperatures. I'm kicking myself for setting as many things outside as I did. Eh, live, learn, and go back to Lowes.

We covered the hostas, the basil, the lavender, and the rosemary. The basil is deader than dead. Everything else looks a little stressed.

We should have covered more, though. The hydrangeas, the weigila, and the crepe myrtle have all suffered. Even the boxwood bushes and the nandina are droopy in the morning. Argh, so much for an early spring.