Loving the Laugh

Here is the truth. Laughing is a trip. Not only is the act of doing it probably really, really good for me, or others, but it is usually been the result of a nice use of the language through the telling of some anecdote, or tawdry comment or stupid tale of success or failure. Oh yes, there are ribald stories and some time just expressions, the twisting of a face and boy is it fun.

This sums it. What a way to live a life. I give thanks for jackasses like this. I almost think that throw in a caring family, health, large fistfulls of the natural world, those friends and many material things could be discarded and I could still get by. Oh, I guess I would need to be able to brew elixir, the spirit of the Gods that just gives that edge. It is natures gift along with food, I suppose. What can I say.

Missionary's Position

In the world of my reading there is the never ending jabber that we all need to learn to ride bicycles and use them to get around. Of course, the message is to not use as much of the precious fossil fuel in our motor cars. In addition, the riding of bikes is good exercise and will make us all fit.



Every time I hear this I think,"Ya, great idea and all but just how handy is the bike and just who can ride one of the things?" Well I do my best and so does the first wife. I truck around on my old Trek with the cart behind it, get the groceries, even take it fishing now and then, but really there are limits. First off, most Americans simply do not have time to use one. You have to get on it, peddle ten miles an hour to you destination, might even have to have special cloths.

Then to top it off, most folks are not up to it, to fat, too old, too lazy. Probably only 10% could even consider the idea at all. Hell, 25% of the state is obese! What about winter? Lame idea for the most part. Never fly here. But I would like to know just what people are going to do when gasoline is not abundant like it is now, or when it is too expensive? Walk, donkey carts?

Well, Ms. Ann (the first wife) has made a statement. A few days ago she had to go to Nelsonville to attend the knitting/stitching group. It is some 4 or 5 miles. What does she do? Hops on her bike and goes, dress, pack and all. She is 65. Now there is an answer of sorts. It can be done. In January?

July and Butterflies

It is another beautiful day and usually I would be outside fiddling around doing some of the endless tasks I always seem to have. In fact, I was outside and that is when I noticed a Giant Swallowtail working the garden, particularly the carrots. I dashed out to get a photo only to find out that while the elegant butterfly was still around he had great speed and almost no composure. As a result he flitted here and fluttered there not really giving me much of an opportunity to get that one good one. However, he is on film and I offer him (or her) up for viewing.

We also noticed a few days ago that the Monarchs are around perusing the milkweeds. They too are high speed insects and really didn't seem to be interested in settling in even though I have deliberately and in great kindness left the huge milkweeds for them.



The best photo Ann took ten days ago of an Admiral that simply would not leave the Sweet Williams. As a result she managed to get the perfect portrait of a untouched specimen. It was so good this particular butterfly had us send a JPG to her relatives in the south.



Fortunately, we have seen few of the cabage butterflies and our lusty cabbages to this day remain untouched and unviolated but their lousy catapillers. If they show the shotgun comes out, metaphorically of course.

The storms that came

The summer is a tough one for trying to write. One just wants to be outside taking it all in and that includes during the ferocious storms we have had of late. "When the oats ripen the storms come." that is what Rick related and damn, the minute I saw those blue green fields show heads the deluge came. It flattened our garden, washed away our soil on the the sloped miniature field and even had the nerve to dampen our basement.

In the morning on a couple of days I had to go out and prop up the corn, return soil found awash in the driveway and remove the flotsam in the strawberries in the front yard. One inch of rain in 15 minutes, three different times only hours apart. The sky fell out of the heavens.



All in all it is exciting standing on the porch watching the light show and marvelling at display knowing we are not really in charge---"Mother nature always bats last." In fact, the thought that hit me the most was wondering just what folks did when what they grew was what they ate. No grow, no eat. The destruction of these storms, while not complete, certainly was a reminder of what first farmers used to go through when Mama Nature let loose.

Ya, I'm not sure self subsistence is all that easy but mine will recover to see another day if only I could part company between the broccoli and the last remaining rabbit, the one that has gone nocturnal.