Lobster Shocker
01.03.10
A researcher from the University of New Hampshire suggests that the lobster trap is venerated not as effective as lobster fishermen think it is, and he has the videotape to confirm. Last year, Professor Win Watson set up video cameras underwater and discovered that lobster traps are more like power stations lobster, shellfish lining with nostalgia literally turn the bag bait - and to come and be accepted traps cleverly constructed.
Watson's findings strengthen theories of late Ed Myers, a longtime fisherman and one of the pioneers of aquaculture in Maine, who, several years ago, suggested in a newspaper column that lobster fishers have been probably eat lobster more than they were contagious. Myers argued that even booming Maine citizens currently lobster was due at least partly to the assortment of rotting fish filled bait bags of some two million traps along the veil of Maine.
"I'm not sure I would go that far," Professor Watson warned at the hearing intimation."But I was surprised by the ease with which the lobsters were coming and going of lobster pots, and much of lobster fishermen who saw the video were surprised, too.
Source: Down East
National Hotel, Nevada City
03.03.10
A cable at the National Hotel in Nevada City doesn't require a gumption of bourbon and a bag of gold dust, but don't think either would hurt.
Established in 1852, this gem in the central of town plays host to history seekers, out-of-towners and bikers equally, and one glance at the white-haired clerk behind his brass-barred desk gives the fancy that he's been there since the beginning and probably seen it all.
A plaque in the parking lot attests to the fuss "it all" may have entailed, and a quick look around the lobby with its potted ferns, gilded portraits of ill-famed locals, and a piano that once made it around Cape Horn says this is gold fatherland - virtues and vices included. Just ask the Ancient and Honorable To the end that to of E Clampus Vitus.
Comfort zone
The first couple of visits to the Citizen Hotel, though magical in their antique dresser and brass-bed glory, did nothing to lay the groundwork for me for the grandeur of our most recent suite - or its carved wooden bed the size of a negligible lumber schooner. Past the interroom - itself well equipped with a claw-footed tete- and Dr. Freud style chaise lounge - the majestic piece of gear was granted a room of its own.
Source: San Francisco Chronicle