The Vulgar Eclectic

Vulgar: of the usual, typical, or ordinary kind
Eclectic: composed of elements drawn from various sources

definitions courtesy of Merriam-Webster

recent blog posts

• Triangulate Cobweb Spider

  

  I’ve had the same dresser since junior high. It’s a beautiful, old, unfinished wood dresser. In a few spots, if you look closely, you can tell that it was once painted a light green. I think my parents might have stripped it when they picked it up somewhere, but I’m not sure.

  I had moved it out to the living room while I was getting some work done in my bedroom. Our space is pretty tiny (it’s a converted single-stall garage with a small added on room), and I really wanted to get the dresser back in the bedroom. There’s still a bit of work left, but I figured it was close enough and started removing the drawers so I could slide the empty dresser into the bedroom.

  While doing that, I thought it would be a good time to condition the wood. It was looking faded and a bit dry. So I used a beeswax-based conditioner, working it into the surfaces of the dresser. It really looks nice!

  In the process, I decided to make a few repairs on the drawers, as well. One drawer had quite a bit of damage to the bottom and sides. Several years ago, I repaired it as well as I could with the tools on hand, which, I learned upon examining the drawer today, must have included a hot glue gun. I figured I could do a better job with wood glue and clamps, plus I wanted to fix another drawer that had some significant cracks in the sides.

  After starting on the first of the repairs, I picked up the second drawer, flipped it over, and discovered this spider and her seven egg sacs! She moved around a bit, but didn’t want to leave her eggs. So, I took a few pictures and then carefully got her and the egg sacs into a glass and took them all out to the shed, where I hope they have a good life with lots of food.

  I have seen this species of spider many times. I remember cleaning up the old, incredibly dusty, dirt floor garage of a rental house I once lived at. I found lots of these spiders, some that were surprisingly large. I always thought their bodies looked strikingly similar to black widows, which I’ve also seen numerous times. After sending a picture of this one to my family, my sister identified it as a triangulate cobweb spider (Steatoda triangulosa), and it turns out to be in the same family as black widows (Theridiidae). So it seems the physical similarities are likely not just a coincidence. The cobweb spider is not known to be harmful to humans.

• Virgin Soil by Ivan Turgenev

  Another book jot from April, 2021:

  I just finished reading Virgin Soil (1877) by Ivan Turgenev, translated by Constance Garnett. It was the last novel he published. Right away, the characters feel almost like real people. It’s as if the reader is making new acquaintances and getting to know the kind of people they are. I find his writing to be so simple and graceful and fluid. Reading it is almost like drinking a glass of water or being outside on a spring day. The story takes place in the late 1860’s in Russia, during a time of social tension and the rumblings of revolution. Many of the characters are agitators and revolutionaries, and the book follows a sort of unfolding love story, as it traces various perceptions of, and commitments to, “the cause”. It’s a humane look at some of the ways in which political ideologies intersect with personal, interior lives.

  One of the more minor personalities is especially sympathetic. His intermittent presence offers interesting insights into the questions posed. The novel is a wonderful balance of character, plot, and ideas, with seemingly effortless prose.

  For we Russians are a queer lot, you know, we expect everything; someone or something is to come along one day and cure us all at once, heal all our wounds, extract all our diseases like an aching tooth. Who or what this panacea is to be — why, Darwinism, the village commune, Arhip Perepentyev, a foreign war, anything you please! Only, we must have our teeth pulled out for us! It’s all sluggishness, apathy, shallow thinking!”

  

• Suppositions

  

• Lathyrus, wild pea

  

• The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper

  Book jot from April 2021:

  I just finished reading The Last of the Mohicans (1826) by James Fenimore Cooper. It’s one of his Leatherstocking Tales, and second in the internal chronology of the series, although it can be read as a stand-alone novel.

  A tale of adventure and action, it seems like a sort of precursor to much of romantic modern fiction, including fantasy and some kinds of science fiction.

  Cooper has a peculiar prose style, even for the time. Somehow, I like it. And he does a great job putting you in the setting—the woods, riverbanks, and shorelines of North American wilderness.  The reader doesn’t really get inside of the characters very much, although I felt closer to the protagonists than I did in The Deerslayer, the book that precedes it. The ending is quite dramatic, and the reader is left with a sense of the profound value of friendship and loyalty.

  “We are not about to start on a squirrel hunt, or to drive a deer into the Horicon, but to outlie for days and nights, and to stretch across a wilderness where the feet of men seldom go, and where no bookish knowledge would carry you through, harmless.”

  

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