Actually, I've smelled worse. And it's incredibly cool to look at. This improbable fungus is properly named Clathrus ruber, AKA the red cage fungus, the latticed stinkhorn, or the basket stinkhorn.
Ada found it under a native ribes in the back yard. She was hugely excited, recognizing it from her Smithsonian Natural History. Originally it was Eurasian, we found out, but it has spread with plant introductions pretty much worldwide.
It was American mycologist David Arora who called C. ruber's odor "the vilest of any stinkhorn," apparently. Our only-somewhat-vile-smelling specimen was achieving its desired effect, though. It was heavily mobbed by flies, putting it in something close to fungal heaven, I guess.
There was a dried up sibling nearby as well as a white, polygonal, egg-sized volva, or proto-stinkhorn. According to Wikipedia, the German Mycological Society named C. ruber the 2011 "Mushroom of the Year" and "described the volva as "like an alien from a science fiction horror film"."
Stinkhorns pretty much constitute the Phallaceae family, of course, which raised some quizzical interest in the children. Thankfully, this particular species is not especially phallic, so I felt able to hold off on that teaching moment for another time.
Arguably the last thing Palo Alto needs right now is another tutoring center, especially one that in its very name exemplifies the narrow, stress-multiplying definition of excellence that so besets the town. But it looks like an outpost of 'IvyTutor' will be opening soon on California Avenue.
I'm seeing this on the day the Palo Alto weekly reports that our high school teachers have started wearing t-shirts aimed at reminding their students that there are actually 3000 universities in the country.
These are the two big messages about education that are currently dueling it out in our community: 'aiming for a highly prestigious college is worth the sacrifice of your mental health and good chunk of your childhood' versus 'do your best in school and choose a college because it will help you thrive, not because your parents and their friends have heard of it.'
I wonder which narrative will win?
Come June, Michael and I like to prospect Stanford's Lake Lagunita for frogs and toads, but we were despairing of there being enough water this year. Here's the lake just three weeks ago.
But then it rained for a week and here's how it looks today (April 3rd). The lake is five or more feet at its deepest. That's water enough to last until the frogs are fully developed. And there are lots of tadpoles swimming about already.
