Showing posts with label critters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label critters. Show all posts
Friday, 9 April 2010
Monday, 22 March 2010
Thursday, 14 January 2010
Sadness at Houghton Hall
Much distress in Houghton Hall as our tropical fishes are dying off. In the space of three days we’ve lost nearly all the larger fish and are left with a few baby guppies and about half a dozen neon tetras.
What’s the cause? A new bulb encouraged massive growth of plants. We recently introduced five Assassin Snails to control our snail infestation. A grey tetra ballooned to twice its size with what must have been a tumour. All are suspects.
Worst of all was the death of Colin the Catfish. He (she? it?) was one of the first fish we bought, over 10 years ago. A tiny black sliver when we introduced him, he grew into a 6-inch monster. With olive green with yellow spots, tiny pinprick eyes and evil spiny fins, he was scary enough without the added thrill of his regular sudden, furtive emergence from behind his castle to leap onto the glass of the tank and suck the algae with a movement reminiscent of the Alien facehugger. He frightened many visitors that way.
The various flouncy, pretty, showy fish that populated the tank over the years seemed like some kind of middle-class fancy dress party. All ignored Colin, a much more primitive-looking bottom-dwelling beast, a triumphant evolutionary dead-end with a Fuck Off attitude to any poncy-tailed imposter visiting the bottom of the tank to retrieve a fallen flake. He was evil-tempered and a master of the insolent disappearing trick: he’d crawl on his fins and then with a flick of the tail, disappear in a cloud of plant matter to attack intruders.
As hardy as a cockroach after Armageddon, he’d survived every epidemic that struck this tiny community over the last decade. Until yesterday.
There he was, slightly paler, stiff as a board and resting insolently on top of the box filter from where he would occasionally launch assaults on other occupants.
He’s now in a Ferrari aftershave box provided by our teenage son, awaiting burial when the kids return from school.
What’s the cause? A new bulb encouraged massive growth of plants. We recently introduced five Assassin Snails to control our snail infestation. A grey tetra ballooned to twice its size with what must have been a tumour. All are suspects.
Worst of all was the death of Colin the Catfish. He (she? it?) was one of the first fish we bought, over 10 years ago. A tiny black sliver when we introduced him, he grew into a 6-inch monster. With olive green with yellow spots, tiny pinprick eyes and evil spiny fins, he was scary enough without the added thrill of his regular sudden, furtive emergence from behind his castle to leap onto the glass of the tank and suck the algae with a movement reminiscent of the Alien facehugger. He frightened many visitors that way.
The various flouncy, pretty, showy fish that populated the tank over the years seemed like some kind of middle-class fancy dress party. All ignored Colin, a much more primitive-looking bottom-dwelling beast, a triumphant evolutionary dead-end with a Fuck Off attitude to any poncy-tailed imposter visiting the bottom of the tank to retrieve a fallen flake. He was evil-tempered and a master of the insolent disappearing trick: he’d crawl on his fins and then with a flick of the tail, disappear in a cloud of plant matter to attack intruders.
As hardy as a cockroach after Armageddon, he’d survived every epidemic that struck this tiny community over the last decade. Until yesterday.
There he was, slightly paler, stiff as a board and resting insolently on top of the box filter from where he would occasionally launch assaults on other occupants.
He’s now in a Ferrari aftershave box provided by our teenage son, awaiting burial when the kids return from school.
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Your Inner Fish
In Your Inner Fish, Neil Shubin tells the story of evolution by tracing the organs of the human body back millions of years, long before the first creatures walked the earth. By examining fossils and DNA, Shubin shows us that our hands actually resemble fish fins, our head is organized like that of a long-extinct jawless fish, and major parts of our genome look and function like those of worms and bacteria. We have compiled the figures from the book into a deck of PowerPoint slides for use in the classroom.
I don't know when I'd be inclined to use these, but they are wonderful Powerpoint slides illustrating evolutionary evidence.
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Friday, 6 November 2009
Monday, 5 October 2009
Wuff thoughts
Too good an opportunity to miss: this pic from Ffffound appearing in my reader soon after Tweeting the quote from my 11 year-old, who was chuckling at one of these little mutts trotting by.
Friday, 2 October 2009
Friday, 28 August 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
