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Hand Held Steamer Used to Clean Bee Specimens?

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  • Sam Droege
    All: In a recent trip the Nebraska State Entomological Museum I had a conversation with a Scarab-Head (Matt Paulsen) who mentioned that they use hand held
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 6, 2011
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      All:

      In a recent trip the Nebraska State Entomological Museum I had a conversation with a Scarab-Head (Matt Paulsen) who mentioned that they use hand held steam cleaners to clean ancient crud off specimens to prep them for picture taking and they also use it to revive bad hair on their specimens.

      Below is a picture.


      I am planning on buying one for the lab, but was wondering if anyone has any experience with steaming bee specimens?

      I imagine that this also dissolves any glue that might be holding a specimen to a point or pin too.

      Thanks

      sam

                                                     
      Sam Droege  sdroege@...                      
      w 301-497-5840 h 301-390-7759 fax 301-497-5624
      USGS Patuxent Wildlife Research Center
      BARC-EAST, BLDG 308, RM 124 10300 Balt. Ave., Beltsville, MD  20705
      Http://www.pwrc.usgs.gov

      Volcano House

      Mists in the lantern ferns,
      green wings furled against the cold,
      and a mountain wind
      starts its low moan through ohia trees.
      The lava land blazes in primrose and thimbleberry,
      scented fires of pink and blue
      racing through jungled underbrush.
      I'm out feeding chickens,
      slopping a garbage of melon seeds and rind
      over the broken stones and woodrot of the forest path.
      I'm humming a blues,
      some old song about China Nights
      and boarding a junk,
      taking me from my village.
      Miles in the distance,
      Kilauea steams and vents
      through its sulphurous roads,
      and a yellow light spills through
      a faultline in the clouds,
      glazing the slick beaks of the feeding chickens,
      shining in their eyes
      like the phosphorous glow
      from a cave tunneled miles through the earth.
      What was my face before I was born?
      the white mask and black teeth
      at the bottom of the pond? What is the mind's insensible,
      the gateless gate?
      Through overgrowth and the leaning drizzle,
      through the pile and dump of tree fern
      and the indigoed snare of lasiandra
      shedding its collars of sadness by the broken fence,
      I make my way down a narrow path
      to the absolute and the house of my last days,
      a dazzle of light scripting in the leaves and on the weeds,
      tremors in the shivering trees.

      - Garrett Hongo
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