10 Reasons Why Cuttlefish are Amazing

Number 1: their ink is actually ink. Sepia, in fact. Yep, all those drawings by Leonardo da Vinci started life in a cuttlefish ink sac.
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Number 2: They have greeny-blue blood. This is because where we have iron in our blood, creating that lovely rust colour, they have copper, creating that lovely old-copper-roof colour.

Number 3: They have three hearts (eat your paltry two hearts out, Doctor). This is because green blood isn’t as efficient with the whole oxygen-moving thing as red blood is.

Number 4: They have pupils like inverted monobrows. I mean, look at this:
Cuttlefish eyeNumber 5: On the subject of eyes, they apparently get their eyes all up and running before they hatch from their eggs. So if you happen to swim past a batch of cuttlefish eggs, beware – they’re watching you. And it has been suggested that they gravitate toward the sort of food they saw pre-hatch. (Death by oodles of baby cuttlefish: cutest creepy death ever.)

Number 6: Continuing on the subject of eyes, the cuttlefish has no blind spot. So don’t think you can escape…

Number 7: They are masters (and mistresses) of disguise. They can change colour like sea-chameleons (despite being unable to see colour); they can change their skin texture to more closely resemble their background. And they can do all this accurately, even in near total darkness. How, no one knows. They can even present different appearances on different sides of their body.

Camouflage
See the seafloor, cuddle the seafloor, be the seafloor…

Number 8: One of their colour patterns, used by males when in an aggro situation, is called “Intense Zebra”. (Out of such little joys is a life made…) Not to mention that there’s a species of cuttlefish called the “Flamboyant Cuttlefish”. And here’s why:
Metasepia pfefferi 1Number 9: They have an internal shell, called the cuttlebone, which they use for going up and down like a submarine. More liquid in the shell: down. Less liquid: up. The cuttlebone has also been used for centuries by metalworkers for making moulds for little fiddly things; and more recently by owners of caged birds for keeping up their calcium intake. (The birds’ calcium intake, that is. Not their owners. As far as I know.)

Number 10: They can be terribly grand and impressive:
Giant Cuttlefish-sepia apama (8643345101)
or completely gosh-darnit cute:
Sepia latimanus (Reef cuttlefish) all whiteAmazing critters, aren’t they? Which is why I decided to knit a cuttlefish cover for my cellphone. It’s not entirely like a cuttlefish, but it has points of resemblance. I started out intending to use this pattern but in the end it was more ‘inspired by’ than actually ‘based on’.

cuttlefishcosy

Fits smartphone measuring 63 x 120 x 10mm. Howdunnit available on request.

Eyeless Entertainment

As habitual readers of this blog may recall, in October 2015 I decluttered my eyeballs. They have now settled into their new shape, and that shape being not yet perfect, I will shortly be having a touch-up surgery.

Those of you who get squicky about eyes may wish to pull something over yours at this point, before I get into details.
Blindfold hatThe original surgery was LASIK, where they make a flap on the front of your eyeball and carry on the earthworks underneath, before putting the flap back. For the touch-up, however, I will be having LASEK, where they just start straight in on the front of the eyeball. It’s like the difference between laying a pipe under a road, and resurfacing the road.

On the plus side, LASEK has a much lower chance of causing keratoconus (don’t look) and other unpleasant side effects. On the down side, the healing takes longer. The first three days, I have been told, are pretty unpleasant (whereas with the first surgery, the discomfort was mild and gone in hours) and then it’s a week before they take the bandage-lens off. Most disturbing of all, it could be weeks before my vision returns to normal, which is to say, capable of reading small print.

And as anyone who has known me for any amount of time will know, reading small print is pretty much my way of life. I came, I saw, I read.

Eduard Klieber (Kopie nach Meyer von Bremen) Lesendes Mädchen 1855
The question is, then, what I shall do while my eyes recover. I’ve arranged for my work to carry on in my absence by having other people do the reading for me, but how shall I pass the time myself? Last time I borrowed a bunch of audiobooks, and it did not work out as well as I had hoped.

The thing is, you see, that I am a visual person. Audiobooks do not satisfy the reading urge, somehow, and nor does what I’ve heard stick. Of the various books I listened to, I don’t remember what most were, and of the one I remember most clearly, all I can remember is that the main character exclaims “By Timothy!” a lot, and the big scene at the end takes place in a house by a river. Apparently, if I can’t get my eyes into it, I can’t get my teeth into it either.

So what shall I do? For the initial, “miserable” stage, I am planning to listen to the BBC Pride and Prejudice – I’ve seen it so often I can follow along by ear anyway. Subsequently I’m planning to have a good amount of not-too-intricate knitting on hand – hopefully my sight will soon be up to that amount of detail. Also hopefully the Caped Gooseberry will read to me when he can. (Yes, I know I said I don’t take things in when I only hear them, but his voice is so nice I don’t really care.)

Blindfolded Artist, Paris
What other non-eye-dependent amusements might I solace my recuperation with? Learning Braille? Taking up scales and sword and going forth to wreak Justice? Ideas?

Ten Ways to a More Ethical Wardrobe

Most of us would like to have a more ethical wardrobe. Most of us don’t. It’s not a case of active ill will, or even apathy – it’s a matter of not knowing where to start. Or what to do.

After all, clothes don’t come with labels saying how many toxic chemicals were used in their manufacture, or how many hours of unsafe, underpaid or even forced labour went into their production.

Made in Sweatshop (10139206873)
Which makes it hard to know whether the item you are buying is supporting people who desperately need the work, or taking advantage of their desperation to effectively transform them into your outsourced slaves.
Which is why it was not only informative but invigorating to read Lucy Siegle’s book To Die For: Is Fashion Wearing Out the World? Because she not only points out the problems, but suggests a few solutions. I’ve collated ten of them here for your consideration.

1: choose your fibres carefully. Production, useful life, disposal. Some man-made fibres are actually less unfriendly to the environment in production than, say, cotton; but on the flip side your grandchildren’s grandchildren will be cold in their graves and the stuff still won’t have rotted down. I recommend Siegle’s book for a more in-depth analysis of the pros and cons of various fibres. Organic cotton and wool are two of the better options.

2: mend. Siegle suggests putting aside 10% of your clothing budget for mending; you get more Little Old Lady points if you do the mending yourself. Personally, I take my shoes to a cobbler for resoling and mends (considerably cheaper than a new pair of good shoes), but I try to do other mending myself – buttons, hems, darning…

Elderly cobbler 2
3: buy second hand. Alas, the nature of fast-fashion means that the quality of second-hand clothing is considerably lower than it once was: if you expect people to move on to something new after two or three wearings, there’s no need to make the item durable. Not to mention that if you’re a sweatshop worker paid by the item, there’s a lot of pressure to construct the garment quickly, not well. Still, good items can be found, they just take a bit more finding than they used to.

4: swap. Either casually, among friends (it helps to have friends of similar taste and/or size) or at an organized swap. As with buying second-hand, it gives the garment a useful second life, rather than consigning it to the dump.

5: make your own. I was delighted to read Siegle’s line, “In many ways knitting is the perfect cornerstone for the burgeoning ethical fashion movement.” I can knit my own socks, hats, gloves and so forth; my next big batch of skills to be acquired is learning how to sew my own clothes. Obviously, this is a long-term, take-it-a-step-at-a-time proposition. Still, the freedom inherent in being able to decide for yourself what cloth, cut and colour you want, instead of being forced to choose from a limited number of options, is very alluring.

Costume workshop at a theatre, Prague - 8581
6: launder carefully. We tend to forget that some of a garment’s eco-impact is neither in its birth nor in its death, but in its life with us. Wash your clothes in cold water, air-dry where possible, and don’t wash your clothes unless they actually need it. (You don’t need to launder a garment just because it’s touched your body. Unless you have some sort of oozing skin disease…) Avoid dry-cleaning too, if you can – the ‘perc‘ which is most commonly used in dry-cleaning is not only carcinogenic but neurotoxic. And in any case, most things marked ‘dry clean only’ do not explode in a ball of flames if you gently hand-wash them.

7: re-use materials. One garment can be refashioned into another. A sheet can become a dress. A pair of jeans can embark on a second life as a skirt. A hideous knitted monstrosity from the op-shop can be unravelled for the wool and reknitted into something much more appealing. (Unless it’s glittery mohair. Not much can be done about that.)

8: buy from ethical brands. This takes a fair bit of digging, as nothing pleases the corporate pocket-book more than marketing to the fair-minded without actually putting their money where their mouth is, but happily there are those who will do some of the digging for you. Baptist World Aid’s Ethical Fashion Guide is compiled for the Australian market, but globalization being what it is, people from all over will find it useful.

Dhaka Savar Building Collapse
9: move slowly. Don’t allow yourself to be rushed into purchases, either by lack of planning (hole in the last good pair of socks!) or by cunning marketing ploys. Do your due diligence. Plan ahead. Savour the pleasures of anticipation. Don’t buy anything unless you’re sure that you’re making a good decision, one that you’ll be happy with tomorrow (and all the years to come).

10: consume less. As Dame Vivienne Westwood says, “Buy less. Choose well. Make it last. Quality, not quantity. Everybody’s buying far too many clothes.” Wearing the same things over and over again is not a penance when each item is something you love, something which tells the world a bit about who you are, something that is a pleasure to wear.

Lucy Siegle writes at the end of To Die For, “Free of the constraints of endless consumption, you can have a wardrobe that is more sustainable, more valuable, more enduring and more you.”

warm enough?
Doesn’t that sound wonderful? If you’re anything like me, there’s a fair way to go yet, but we can get there – one step at a time.