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Nov. 15th, 2005 10:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
urocyonIt was a good thing I was in the hall, near the door, when the postman came by this morning. Perhaps he trained at the court of Louis XIV; the sound was certainly no louder than a pinky-scratch, with a perfectly good doorbell there, and he looked an appropriate age. I felt rather sorry for the man, delivering things on foot in the cold drizzle, the way my bursitis is not liking the weather lately at 30. As I've mentioned to Ingvar, maybe I should go and hike around the Five Sisters or maybe Snowdon, considering Macks Mountain is a bit hard to get to these days. Hey, it seemed to work for my Papaw--every time his knees started acting up this time of year, he'd take his setters and head out for a brisk day's march up and down the mountain, under the pretense of going hunting.* Urgh. The Five Sisters may even have served a similar purpose for the Family Knees way back when. *g*
At any rate, I was particularly glad to get a parcel today, since it had aquatic snails in it. :) Shipping was stressful enough; I doubt they needed to sit around the postal depot until I could go and pick them up later.
It's odd--I've had trouble finding snails locally in pet shops, other than the sort which cling to aquarium plants and are probably best kept out of the tank if possible. Then again, I've mainly tended in past to stock aquaria with snails from creeks, and was probably lucky not to pick up some sort of horrible fish parasite that way. (The really pointy sorts--while pretty--are one good reason for wearing old shoes when going in the water, along with some mussels and the infuriating habit humans have of chucking things into the water. Out of sight, into someone else's foot. *grumble*) I can understand, I suppose, why apple snails do not seem to be as popular in the pet trade here; they look entirely too much like the huge mutant garden snails. In fact, the first empty snail shell I saw in the garden when visiting I assumed to be one scattered from a kid's aquarium. Having encountered the then-upstairs neighbors, it didn't seem likely they'd been feasting on escargots, though pitching food refuse over the railing was entirely too plausible. So, not having had much luck finding snails in pet shops and being overwhelmed by algae, I resorted to ordering some from a place specialising in snails.
I'd wondered about the best way to ship aquatic snails, and opened the package to find a little styrofoam cup of the sort generally associated with Chinese takeout soup or with nightcrawlers. Nestled inside, in damp cotton, were the snails. A bit of lagniappe, in fact; I'd ordered two red ramshorn snails, assuming from past experience that there would soon be two dozen, but got three. There was also a striped spixi apple snail. Both types were chosen in hopes that they will live OK in a warmish coldwater tank, and eat more algae than plants. They're now settled into the goldfish tank.
There is one interesting feature of the gravel in there: some of it is almost impossible to distinguish from the ramshorn shells. I've spent a silly amount of time playing "Where's Waldo?" with the little snails--though Waldo has never been that difficult to spot! I think I shall call all the ramshorns Waldo. ("This is my brother Darryl, and this is my other brother Darryl.") No idea what to call the spixi; maybe Ingvar will come up with a name. I did get a little concerned right after I put the snails in the tank. One of the Waldos was bobbing around at the surface, so Lobsterback tried to swallow it--but promptly spat it out. It started sinking, so Lobsterback repeated the performance. This shouldn't have come as surprise, since this is the fish who has repeatedly foundered himself on huge chunks of tubifex so that he was puffing out strands of worm for half an hour afterward, but I certainly didn't want him to chow down on the new snails. Thank goodness he's apparently decided they're not tasty after all.
* I suppose just setting out for a hike for the sheer enjoyment of it wasn't manly enough. It was still understood that he was doing precisely that, the vast majority of the time. Very occasionally some token birds or a deer would come back.
Edit: I was glad to find that the duvets will, in fact, wash fine in our machine--it just takes pouring extra water in, since they'll absorb it all, and at least one extra rinse with lots of water. Gotta love the water-conserving feature sometimes. I knew Ingvar's was dusty and covered with cat hair (next spring we'll have to store them in a box), but was absolutely horrified at the look of the wash water.
It actually seems to have stopped raining, so maybe it will dry out enough that I can get out later and plant the narcissus bulbs I found half price at Wilkinson yesterday. Went for a ceiling hook for a hanging basket, found the gardening section removed to make room for Christmas frippery, but some excellent reductions among the remaining half shelf.
At any rate, I was particularly glad to get a parcel today, since it had aquatic snails in it. :) Shipping was stressful enough; I doubt they needed to sit around the postal depot until I could go and pick them up later.
It's odd--I've had trouble finding snails locally in pet shops, other than the sort which cling to aquarium plants and are probably best kept out of the tank if possible. Then again, I've mainly tended in past to stock aquaria with snails from creeks, and was probably lucky not to pick up some sort of horrible fish parasite that way. (The really pointy sorts--while pretty--are one good reason for wearing old shoes when going in the water, along with some mussels and the infuriating habit humans have of chucking things into the water. Out of sight, into someone else's foot. *grumble*) I can understand, I suppose, why apple snails do not seem to be as popular in the pet trade here; they look entirely too much like the huge mutant garden snails. In fact, the first empty snail shell I saw in the garden when visiting I assumed to be one scattered from a kid's aquarium. Having encountered the then-upstairs neighbors, it didn't seem likely they'd been feasting on escargots, though pitching food refuse over the railing was entirely too plausible. So, not having had much luck finding snails in pet shops and being overwhelmed by algae, I resorted to ordering some from a place specialising in snails.
I'd wondered about the best way to ship aquatic snails, and opened the package to find a little styrofoam cup of the sort generally associated with Chinese takeout soup or with nightcrawlers. Nestled inside, in damp cotton, were the snails. A bit of lagniappe, in fact; I'd ordered two red ramshorn snails, assuming from past experience that there would soon be two dozen, but got three. There was also a striped spixi apple snail. Both types were chosen in hopes that they will live OK in a warmish coldwater tank, and eat more algae than plants. They're now settled into the goldfish tank.
There is one interesting feature of the gravel in there: some of it is almost impossible to distinguish from the ramshorn shells. I've spent a silly amount of time playing "Where's Waldo?" with the little snails--though Waldo has never been that difficult to spot! I think I shall call all the ramshorns Waldo. ("This is my brother Darryl, and this is my other brother Darryl.") No idea what to call the spixi; maybe Ingvar will come up with a name. I did get a little concerned right after I put the snails in the tank. One of the Waldos was bobbing around at the surface, so Lobsterback tried to swallow it--but promptly spat it out. It started sinking, so Lobsterback repeated the performance. This shouldn't have come as surprise, since this is the fish who has repeatedly foundered himself on huge chunks of tubifex so that he was puffing out strands of worm for half an hour afterward, but I certainly didn't want him to chow down on the new snails. Thank goodness he's apparently decided they're not tasty after all.
* I suppose just setting out for a hike for the sheer enjoyment of it wasn't manly enough. It was still understood that he was doing precisely that, the vast majority of the time. Very occasionally some token birds or a deer would come back.
Edit: I was glad to find that the duvets will, in fact, wash fine in our machine--it just takes pouring extra water in, since they'll absorb it all, and at least one extra rinse with lots of water. Gotta love the water-conserving feature sometimes. I knew Ingvar's was dusty and covered with cat hair (next spring we'll have to store them in a box), but was absolutely horrified at the look of the wash water.
It actually seems to have stopped raining, so maybe it will dry out enough that I can get out later and plant the narcissus bulbs I found half price at Wilkinson yesterday. Went for a ceiling hook for a hanging basket, found the gardening section removed to make room for Christmas frippery, but some excellent reductions among the remaining half shelf.