Sometimes the best way to learn is to make a really, really dumb mistake. Outside the Phipps Conservatory there was an avenue of Ginkgo biloba.
And they were starting to show their autumn colours (I have never seen a Ginkgo go any colour other than yellow). Now, perhaps I've just been really unobservant, but I had never seen Ginkgo fruit before, even though there are plenty of the trees in and around London.
And I thought, wouldn't it be great fun to pick a few fruit, get them through customs (the Defra website seems to say seeds are unrestricted, but my little brother, who works for a Defra-related organisation, nearly had an aneurism when I told him about this later), and try to grow a few Pittsburgh ginkgos.
Being a bit short, I asked Hubster if he could reach some for me. He smiled at me in that kindly way he does when he's humouring me, and grabbed a handful of fruit.
I put them in my bag, and we left for Philadelphia.
And then, over the space of the next 48 hours, I became aware of a truly foul smell. It was almost as bad as the pigeon I've been dissecting for "research". Sort of decomposition, sort of stagnant water, sort of faecal matter.
Yeeeaaaahhh, that was my introduction to the high butanoic acid content of ginkgo seeds. By the time we got to New York, they were so vile that they made the rest of the hostel smell delightful by comparison. So they were all quietly disposed of.
But my handbag still smells a bit shit. Literally.
And they were starting to show their autumn colours (I have never seen a Ginkgo go any colour other than yellow). Now, perhaps I've just been really unobservant, but I had never seen Ginkgo fruit before, even though there are plenty of the trees in and around London.
And I thought, wouldn't it be great fun to pick a few fruit, get them through customs (the Defra website seems to say seeds are unrestricted, but my little brother, who works for a Defra-related organisation, nearly had an aneurism when I told him about this later), and try to grow a few Pittsburgh ginkgos.
Being a bit short, I asked Hubster if he could reach some for me. He smiled at me in that kindly way he does when he's humouring me, and grabbed a handful of fruit.
I put them in my bag, and we left for Philadelphia.
And then, over the space of the next 48 hours, I became aware of a truly foul smell. It was almost as bad as the pigeon I've been dissecting for "research". Sort of decomposition, sort of stagnant water, sort of faecal matter.
Yeeeaaaahhh, that was my introduction to the high butanoic acid content of ginkgo seeds. By the time we got to New York, they were so vile that they made the rest of the hostel smell delightful by comparison. So they were all quietly disposed of.
But my handbag still smells a bit shit. Literally.
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