Unicorns and friends, I have just spent the most blissful week of no news in Eastern Poland. We went potato harvesting and looked at some week-old baby cows. That was literally it, and it was grand. I never want to leave.
Last year, when I was talking to a more experienced biologist about my work, I commented on how the year had be a weird one, an unusually mild one, with my plants behaving in expected but not completely predictable ways. He laughed and said, “Every year is a weird year.”