If you’ve hung around here for any length of time, you know that my curiosity likes to sprint down obscure paths. I recently finished the first draft of my next novel (Woohoo! Now the real work ahead!), and one of the things I was researching was something I wanted to write but then hit that proverbial wall: Do I use pit or seed in this context? And what’s the actual difference between the two, or are they interchangeable? And where does stone or pip come in?
Well, as with any roadsign to curious paths, I pulled out my walking stick – or in this case, the dictionary (as in, Wiktionary). And as you’ll see, just looking it up won’t do – I had to learn a wee bit about botany along the way:
Endo- means within, inner, absorbing, or containing. Peri- means peripheral, or surrounding; Meso- means middle (as in Paleolithic, Mesolithic, Neolithic); Exo- means outer (as in exoplanet); and -carp means part of a fruit or fruiting body. I tend to remember something better if I can make a linguistic leap of understanding, and the suffix carp- actually comes from the Greek word Karpos, which was the mythological son of the west wind and spring (new vegetation), which naturally includes fruit.
In this instance, however, the dictionary wasn’t exactly helpful:
SEED: A fertilized and ripened ovule*, containing an embryonic plant. [*the structure in a plant that develops into a seed after fertilization.]
I don’t know about you, but I found myself none the wiser.
PIT is even more confusing! It’s a seed, stone or pip inside a fruit, or a shell in a drupe (such as a peach) containing a seed.
PIP makes the issue even foggier: It’s a British term for a seed inside certain fleshy fruits (compare stone/pit), such as a peach, orange, or apple!
STONE seems the clearest definition (insert sarcastic tone here): The central part of some fruits, particularly drupes; consisting of the seed and a hard endocarp layer.
If I had to put it in layman’s terms, I’d say it like this: The seed contains the embryo; the pit/pip/stone protects the seed until it’s ready to sprout (and only certain types of fruits have pits); pits are usually singular in a fruit, while there may be one or more seeds.
Pits are found in fruits like cherries, mangoes, peaches, plums, avocadoes, olives and dates. Seeds are found in fruits like apples, oranges, and bananas (the variety of bananas usually sold in stores usually have sterile seeds – what we might call “seedless”). If I can follow this jungle-infested side path for a moment, did you know that bananas don’t actually grow on trees, but are the world’s largest herb, and that they grow upside-down, defying gravity? Another interesting point is that a seedless banana can still propagate itself – I should rather refer to it as clone: Each” tree” (i.e. layers of leaves) produces 1 bunch of fruit and then dies; but its rhizome, below ground, simply sprouts up as the one is dying and repeats the process.
Then there’s the hairy issue of the coconut: Technically, it’s a one-seeded drupe; but it could be considered a fruit, a nut, or even a seed. When you buy a coconut in the store, the outer layers have generally been stripped off: The exocarp is usually green; the fibrous husk beneath that is the mesocarp, and the hard, woody layer we often think of as “a coconut” is actually the endocarp. Every part of the coconut and the palm plant (not tree) on which it grows can be used for something, so it’s often referred to as “the tree of life”.
And let’s not get into figs; they’re technically inverted flowers, and besides, there’s probably a wasp inside there (without the fig wasp, we’d have no figs). Now ya know. Don’t look into that too closely unless you really want to know, because you’ll never look at a fig the same way again.
Learn something new and get smarter every day!
History can be confusing sometimes, especially if it’s distant – beyond our own experience. Who’s who, who did what, and what the consequences were can all seem a bit vague. The analogy below, put into a relatable context, may help you visualize an important bit of world history; I don’t know who came up with the original piece, but it’s brilliant! I’ve made several additions here and there, but otherwise, it’s someone else’s work – if anyone knows who originally came up with this analogy, please let me know so that I can give credit where credit is due!
If World War I were a Bar Fight
Germany, Austria and Italy are standing together in the middle of a pub when Serbia bumps into Austria and spills Austria’s pint. Austria demands Serbia buy it a whole new suit because of the new beer stains on its trouser leg. Germany expresses its support of Austria’s point of view.
Britain recommends that everyone calm down a bit.
Serbia points out that it can’t afford a whole new suit, but offers to pay for the cleaning of Austria’s trousers. Russia and Serbia look at Austria. Austria asks Serbia who they’re looking at. Russia suggests that Austria should leave its little brother alone. Austria inquires as to whose army will help Russia make them do so.
Germany appeals to Britain that France has been eyeing Britain, and that it’s unwise for Britain not to intervene. Britain replies that France can look at whoever it wants to, and that Britain has been watching Germany too, and what is Germany going to do about it? Germany tells Russia to stop looking at Austria, or Germany will render Russia incapable of such action anymore. Britain and France ask Germany whether it’s looking at Belgium.
Turkey and Germany go off into a corner and whisper. When they come back, Turkey makes a show of not looking at anyone.
Germany rolls up its sleeves, looks at France, and punches Belgium and Luxembourg, who had been minding their own business at the end of the bar. France and Britain punch Germany; Austria punches Bosnia and Herzegovina (which Russia and Serbia took personally); Germany punches Britain and France with one fist and Russia with the other. Russia throws a punch at Germany, but misses and nearly falls over.
Japan calls from the other side of the room that it’s on Britain’s side, but stays there.
Italy surprises everyone by punching Austria. Australia punches Turkey and gets punched back. There are no hard feelings, however, because Britain made Australia do it.
France gets thrown through a plate-glass window, but gets back up and carries on fighting. Russia gets thrown through another one, gets knocked out, suffers brain damage, and wakes up with a complete personality change.
Italy throws a punch at Austria and misses, but Austria falls over anyway. Italy raises both fists in the air and runs around the room chanting. America waits until Germany is about to fall over from sustained punching from Britain and France, then walks over and smashes it with a barstool and pretends it won the fight all by itself.
By now all the chairs are broken and the big mirror over the bar is shattered. Britain, France and America agree that Germany threw the first punch, so the whole thing is Germany’s fault. While Germany is still unconscious, they go through its pockets, steal its wallet, and buy drinks for all their friends.
Everyone went home, leaving Germany to pout on the floor planning on how to get even.
Originally posted on History Undusted, September 2015
I can’t believe how fast the month has flown by! Life took over – more like, it grabbed me by the neck and took me for a wild ride – and writing took a back seat; it sat back there, observing, taking notes, and waiting for the first opportunity to grab the wheel again.
Meetings, challenges and dealing with the messy bits that make up a full life took most of my time this past month. English classes; singing students; somewhere in there also comes housework and grocery shopping. Our church held a bazaar, and I was counted on by the organizers to bring a variety of crafts (I have a bit of a reputation). I spent two days baking with a friend; I spent nearly two weeks organizing and supplementing my crafts to sell, including deciding on prices for each (and we all know how easy that is…). I had dozens of Scherenschnitte (some in frames, some without); plarn (= plastic yarn, made from upcycled plastic bags) purses and baskets (including two baskets made out of an old air mattress); each plarn bag, including glazed cardboard buttons, has a unique tag recording how much time was spent, and what materials each is made of. I also had beaded bookmarks, wine charms, tin embossed Christmas ornaments, a bowl full of surprise gift bags, and three kinds of cookies (Spitzbuben, Bretzeli, and savoury cheese cookies). The crafts also required props – tags, packaging cards, a hanging display rod, and a display bowl and wine glass (both paper-maché), etc. etc. Whew. You can see why it took me two weeks! I now have a few special orders that were sold at the bazaar which I need to make and get sent off in time for Christmas.
Somewhere in that busyness, someone moved in with us; she’ll be with us for at least the next three months, and I’ve been helping her deal with the official business of moving (deregistering from Zürich, registering here in our town, etc.), and also settling in as far as finding her way around the town, public transport, and our home.
All the while, in the back seat, writing has been breathing down my neck; but it’s not the only thing, and it hasn’t been the loudest by a long shot. I have responsibilities in our church that require phone calls, organisational meetings, organising people who have lives of their own, too, leading the church services (two per Sunday morning) at least once a month, and sometimes getting things pushed uphill – empathies for Sisyphus.
I have dozens of ideas to share with you; it comes down to eking enough time to do a topic justice. But life is slowing down a bit more once again, so I look forward to letting writing climb back into the front seat! I’ve started working again on my next novel, and keeping an eye out for a topic that wants undusting. Keep your eyes open – I’m back!