Slime Mold

What's the official mold of Stinky Valley? Easy that, it's slime mold (Fuligo septica). And yes, slime mold is, slimy. Mercy!
















Here we see a fairly young one dining on wood chips, it's favorite foodstuff.

Slime molds are actually, highly intelligent compared to, for example, fungi. Like this young one can already do arithmetic.
















Here's another slime mold, bigger and older. See how it's reaching out toward the photographer. It's friendly.

O! Have you seen Rapistrum?

O! Have you seen Rapistrum?
Cause I’ve looked high and low.
And I can not find Rapistrum.
No matter where I go.
Alas, alack, so sad to say,
I surely miss Ray so.
And if you chance to see him,
Be sure to let me know.

Molothrus ater

The specific eptithet, ater, comes from the Latin, past tense. A sentence using ater in Latin would read like, Moluthrus ater ater mio semen. Or something like that.

In any event, these dang vermin are messing up the Bosom Brotherhoods bird feeding enjoyment. How can we enjoy feeding the birds when we know these particular cowbirds are eating our seed all up? And to what end do these cowbirds put the energy derived from our seed? Easy that, these boys use our seed to make sperm. Sperm that may eventually unite with an ovum that may be deposited in the nest of some hapless songbird that is fixing to go extinct. And if the hapless songbird goes extinct, whose fault will that be? Maybe Crumby's, maybe Ray's, maybe your fault.

Take the dern feeders down! When the cowbirds show up.

East Vs. West, cont.

Few recall how the east meets the west at the CB as per the ranges of the twain woodpeckers, Golden-fronted (gofr) and Red-bellied (rebe). Yet now, we have documentation for both those supposedly closely related peckers, right here at the CB, where east meets west. Yes they do, don't they?

But a goofy part is, the CB gofr loves suet. That's right. She can't get enough Woodpecker Treat suet. She also liked the Pepper Suet. Yet the rebes totally eschew the suet, preferring the nearby Gourmet Wild Bird Mix.




















Actually though, this particular photo may not be sufficient for identifying a gofr. However, we have more proof. Yes we do, don't we?

This situation is the same difference as the Pyrrhuloxia and the Cardinals which also meet at the juncture of east and west at the CB. But the behavioral difference with these twain is the Pyrrhuloxia is too dumb to operate the bird feeder by itself.

Meantime, the danged Brown-headed cowbirds have arrived. Mercy! It's like Papists at a miracle.

Sad for the resident good birds, but Ray is fixing to pull the feeders until the plague of cowbirds departs. Probably, we should kill them all, the cowbirds, but some of us already feature bad karma over that. Mmm. Cowbird pie.

Say. If everyone knew how delicious cowbirds are, that deliciousness would solve many problems. Like, we could export delicious cowbirds to France or Leander. Or, what about this fact. Cowbird sperm is a well-known aphrodisiac. Would cowbird sperm sell big in Asia or what?

How about this! The best cowbird sperm for lifting a limpy is cowbird sperm that has already been transferred to the female cowbird. But you have to catch the female immediately post fornicantion and eat her right then. Therefore, the particular sperm we are now discussing is extremely rare and valuable.

Goldfinch Goodbyes

Sadly for many, the American Goldfinches have just about departed these parts for cooler climes already. Praise the Goddess, somebody else is now responsible for feeding the departed Americans. Now, only the lessers are front and center at the sock feeders. Yet the lessers being well, lesser, don't each as much. So the bird seed bill is fixing to drop precipitously.

Crumby hypothesized that there would be plenty of interspecific squabbling over the Nyjer seed. And the twain species did squabble some. But not as much as Crumby expected. Generally, the kingdom of the nyjer socks was a peaceable kingdom.





















Here's a couple of average goldfinches mugging for the camera. American on bottom.

Is Shrew Chow Legal on Federal Lands?

Now just suppose an average naturalist headed out to federal land. Like if you were an average naturalist that dwelt in the Booblico duh Tejas, you'd need to get out of state practically before you could visit the federal land. But suppose you did? And the primary reason for your journey would be to espy shrews. Like maybe you have never espied shrews. Or maybe, the only shrew you ever espied, was dead. Morte! Mercy! Not surpising that forty years of espying vermin in these parts would lead up to one dead shrew. That's because nature haters are overwhelmingly dominant in these parts. Goodness! Nature haters kill shrews on sight. So shrews are hard to come by hereabouts.

Be that as it may, the query is, Is shrew chow legal on Federal Lands? Like Crumby is no total umbassda. He knows that generally speaking, an average person should not feed the animals on federal land. Itshauckfa. Any umbassda knows that.

But shrews may be exempt. That's because shrews are tiny plus inconspicuous. So what's the harm in feeding a little tiny shrew chow to your average little tiny shrew?

That's right. Crumby is desperate to bait a shrew or too. That's because some shrew photographs are liable to give Crumby plenty of ease in his dotage. So why not? Why can't an old Ovate bait shrews for comfort or intellectual stimulation in prepation for the last roundup, the end of the trail, the boat ride to Hades, the last fling in the fairy ring. Goodness gracious!

You may know that there could be issues with shrew chow in bear country. But maybe bears don't like shrew chow. Could a bear eat shrew chow? Would a bear eat shrew chow? Would a bear eat a shrew?

Oh my Goddess! Crumby needs answers.

East Meets West is the Same Difference as West Meets East

At Red’s Good Vs. Evil Cow Barn, east meets west. That means, some species of this or that may be at their eastern limit of distribution at the CB, while other species may be at their most westerly limit at the CB. An example of all this may be two kinds of peckerwoods that habitate hereabouts in these parts.

OK. We have your red-bellied woodpecker at the CB. And, we probably have the golden-fronted woodpecker at the CB. So all the red-bellied peckers that don’t dwell at the CB, only dwell east of the CB. While most, maybe all, the golden-fronted peckers, peckerwoods or peckerheads dwell west of the CB. Jeez Louise!

Except this is not true. For one thing, some golden-fronts formerly, allegedly dwelt in a cemetery east of I 35 and way east of the CB. Dang! Maybe those wayward peckers are still there in that grim cemetery. Plus, the likelihood is high that a red-belly or two dwell west of the CB. Likely! Yes.

Anyway, generally considered, the golden fronts dwell west, while the red belly dwell east of somewhere. And that somewhere may be a point on a latitude, maybe. Goodness sakes alive!

OK. You may know that many would like to change the common name of the red belly woodpecker to red neck peckerwood. Like besides Crumby, the many would probably include Rev. Sharpton. But there are many, many more besides Crumby Ovate and Rev. Sharprton. A great multitude. Tousands!

But we are roaring off task. Today, Ray again espied a probable golden-fronted woodpecker at the suet feeder. But now hold yer horse or pecker. Every solitary day as this miserable world turns or spins, twain red-bellied, amated pair, apply for assistance at the regular seed feeders. But they never, ever, go to the suet feeder. Que paso, amigo? The other time Ray espied a large, ladder backed wp at the feeder, that wp grabbed off a big chunk of moldy suet, then sped away south. What does all this mean?

Well. Today, Ray got a fair look at that wp again at the suet feeder. What’s more, it looked golden-fronted. Course then we tried to take its picture. But it flew off before Crumby could change the camera settings from when he had the 10-22mm on the camera. Changing lenses. How universally mediocre is that? So now we need to get a picture of the golden-fronted because such would be a lifer for the CB yard list. Gracious sakes alive!

But what about the waterproof backpack (see below)? All righty. Like many before us, the Bosom Brotherhood has decided upon the Overboard Pro-Action 30L in red. Alas! That model is temporarily out of stock at B&H, our preferred vendor. Goodness! Sometimes stuff that is temporarily out of stock at B&H never gets back in, stock. Yikes!

Note: East may meet west, everywhere, actually.

Freedom of Choice, Is What You Got

Crumby and his bosom companion, Ray, are fixing to purchase a backpack even if it harelips Pope What’s His Name. Here’s what we are looking for in our future pack.

Waterproof, carry on friendly, big enough for a 60d, 400mm, 50mm, 10-22mm, E330, 14-54mm, 35mm macro plus their protective cases, outfits or Koonzies. Well maybe not quite all those. But close.




















Koonzies! Koonzies is the collective term for the coozies, dividers, inserts, mini-bags, etc., that might serve to protect the cameras and lenses from shock while inside their waterproof pack. Here is a pictorial example of a very simple Turner Industries Koonzie protecting a 50mm 1.8.

Then our pack also needs to be comfortable. It will go on our backs while we are hiking, boating, and thus potentially swimming, or cycling, shopping, mostly for short distances, like a few miles, during the daytime in the penultimate worst heat of the USA. So we don’t need to sweat unnecessarily. Plus, Crumby already features a slipped disk, a torn rotator cuff, and tendinitis in his bad elbow, so he dang sure deserves a dern comfortable pack.

Our first idea was the Lowepro waterproof products. However, many whine about the zippers on those particular products. Probably one could employ, Too Much Manpower, on those zippers during times of extreme angst or aggravation. So we decided the Lowepro waterproof packs are probably not for Crumby.

Then we became interested in several alternatives simultaneously. The most promising of all those are the 25L Aquapac which features a removable seat. Note however that the Aquapac propagandists do not provide the dimensions for their backpack so we have, despite the removable seat, summarily ruled it out. The Aquapac may not be carry on friendly . Or it could be carry on friendly. Nobody knows. Ockca uckerssa! The Overboard 30L which features an air flow back panel. The Aquaknot 29.5L also features an air flow back panel. The Mariner All-Terrain which also, I repeat also, features an air flow back panel. The 28L Rainwalker which features an aluminum internal frame, but may be too fat for carry on many smaller aeroplanes since its depth is 12 inches, also known as a foot.



















OK. So what additional features would we like. Well. We want to have places for water bottles on the outside in like mesh baggies or things. We need some way to hang the BushHawk, in lieu of a tripod, on the outside of the pack. Oh! We would like maybe a tough Naugahyde material on the bottom where you sit the bag down like we have on our current, definitely not water proof, Outdoor Products backpack. But we do understand that sewing or gluing on a Naugahyde bottom might compromise the waterproofness of our presumptive backpack. So maybe we don’t need that exact feature. However, Naugahyde trim would sure be a nice touch for the fashion conscious.

That’s about it. All the other accouterments, like storage for batteries, cards, wires and such can be provided in or on the various Koonzies.


Now we just need to figure out which of all these packs is best for the Bosom Brotherhood.

Too Much Manpower

Maybe Crumby over torques the bicycle spokes. Maybe that's why those spokes break. Or maybe the spokes fail while fixing to withstand the weight of 30-40 pound sacks of birdseed plus Crumby out of the saddle. Mercy beaucoup!

Whatever, changing out bike spokes is a biter, fer sure. Especially on the rear wheel if you happen to have a freewheel on it. Yes. to change out a spoke, the average bicycle mechanic must remove the freewheel. Plus, you need a dang vice and a special tool.






















But what if the average or slightly below average bicycle mechanic we are now discussing applies Too Much Manpower. Here's what can happen. Yes. Your cheap Harbor Freight vice isn't so cheap now. Is it? No. Now it costs what it cost plus what it costs to replace it. Too Much Manpower.

Just espy that pathetic busted vice. It's totally broke. Crumby made a half-hearted attempt at a cold weld. But screw that. It's totally broke.

Crumby had to take his wheel to a friendly bike shop. They broke the freewheel off. How embarrasing is that? Too Much Manpower.

Silybum marianum

Ray has previously reviewed in this venue much of the avialable information pertinent to Mary's milk thistle (Silybum marianum). Yet a thistle as interesting as Mary's may deserve annual commentary. That's because Mary's milk thistle probably features the biggest basal rosette of any weed in these parts, native or introduced.




















Check this out. Those are size 8 1/2 New Balance trainers sticking out from under those overall legs. Yet the main feature of this picture is a gigantic, variegated weed. Yes. It is a huge Mary's milk thistle. How much milk went onto that weed? Goodness!

You know. Try as he might, Crumby can never take a picture of a Mary's milk thistle that is safe to stare at for more that a fleeting instant or two. It's always the same. That variegated leaf pattern depicted in the picture is nauseating. Mercy!

Considered ecologically, Mary's milk thistle is early successional. That is, the best ones tend to emerge on bare ground. That's what happened here. Last summer the ground this thistle now resides on got dozer scraped. And now it's thistle habitat.

Probably, this particular Mary's milk thistle is at The End of the Trail, much like that old Indian in the picture. Yes sadly, the Stinky Valley enviro-cops shall mow it to death before it can seed out. Dum-duh-dum. Duddle-duddle-dum-dum. And that might be OK, a victory against the spread of Eurasian weeds, but for the fact that billions of other, much nastier, but less conspicuous Eurasian weeds shall grow, prosper and reproduce as the mow happy, mow happily, mow and mow, Moe. Dum-duh-dum. Duddle-duddle-dum-dum.

Guess what! Mowing makes the climate hotter. Makes it mo' hotter, I tell you.

Twitchers

Crumby always thought twitchers was a semi-amusing substitute for birders. Mercy! Birders is dumb enough. But then, after 20 years of bin toting, Crumby quit. Yes. Recreational birding got too silly even for the presumptive Ovate. So as soon as Crumby matriculated to actual Ovate, he quit birding. Yes. Crumby quit birding unless he got paid to bird. And of course, professional birding is way different than twitching. Because, you know, like you get paid to birdwatch.

However, when an average person like Crumby quits on recreational birding or twitching, he or she may need to phase quit or quit gradually. Like quitting birding may be like quitting tobacco. You may, if you are weak, need Jesus or more likely, gum. The equivalent of gum for a birder desiring to kick the habit may be a tiny binocular. Correct. Many tiny binoculars may be easily concealed. Then, they may be snuck forth,out of pocket, when no one is around. Mercy!

That's right. Little tiny binoculars are especially little. Some are so Liliputian, you may forget you have them, it. And gradually, since it is not much good for seeing birds in the first place, you may eventually abandon the birding hobby altogether. That's how Crumby quit. Not with help from Jesus, but employing a tiny binocular as a crutch.

Crumby's tiny binocular of choice for quitting birding was (is) the Eagle Optics Ranger by Celestron, a 10-28 multi-coated, waterproof gem that is hardly better than nothing for espying Class Aves. Crumby alway says, my Eagle Optic binocular is the next best thing to not having to carry a dang bin. It's totally little and light and you can't see hardly any birds with it. For goodness or Goddess sakes!

But now, in his dotage, and egged on by the daily bird feeder goings on at the CB, Crumby has started fixing to do some recreational birding again. And how fitting is it that the binocular that helped Crumby quit twitching in the first place, is the same binocular that may espy him at recreational birding again. Mercy!

Like just today Crumby slipped his diminutive bin into a jacket pocket. Then off Crumby went, cycling happily along. Suddenly Crumby espied bluebirds. Bluebirds! I better confirm that. Sure enough, with much effort and even a few expletives, Crumby was able to confirm four eastern bluebirds with his tiny bin. Plus, four is Crumby's number.

Leucistic American Goldfinches are Abundant and Variable

Every morning practically, Ray has to go out and feed the birds. Because Ray is a mere mortal, as opposed to robotic, the birds don't get fed precisely at the same time every day. But they do get fed eventually, normally.

This morning, Ray was out fairly early, even though, the stygian darkness hung on. Yes. The darkness was somewhat prolonged by the clouds. So when Ray went out to feed the birds, it was still fairly dark, just not stygian dark.

Soon as Ray got back in, he was espying out the window. It is Ray's custom to look out the window after he feeds the birds. That's because there is some chance that something out of the ordinary may occur. And if Ray isn't watching he may miss that extraordinary occurrence. How Zen is that?

















Which explains how Ray came to espy the leucistic American goldfinch plus take its picture. Now remember, the darkness Ray is faced with is practically stygian, so Ray needs to hand hold the 400mm 5.6 at like a shutter speed of 50. Fifty I tell you. That's why this picture is out of focus. Camera shake.

Nevertheless, one can easily espy that this is a very much leucistic bird of Class Aves. Many of the leucistic goldfinch pictures one finds on the internet have way more pigment than this example. For Heaven's sake!

Get Yer Yard Certified by a Genuine Druid as Wildlife Friendly

Yes. The Druids have finally decided to provide average individual property owners with a certificate that reflects on the recipients commitment to nature and/or the White Goddess. Yet unlike the typical bullshit backyard certification programs that emphasize totally environmentally bogus activities like rain water harvesting, the single Druid criteria for certification is the documented presence of wild rats in your yard. That’s right. If you aint got wild rats, you aint got wildlife habitat, and you aint doing your part vis-a-vis, Mother Nature.


So here we go.













This is an example of the kind of documentation you will need to provide before you may be certified as operating a Genuine Druid Certified Wildlife Friendly Yard. Note the hispid cotton rat enjoying a little bird feed that the birds dropped. See how cute this particular rat is. Cuteness is typical of your average wild rat.

Besides pictures of a wild rat or two, acceptable documentation would include; rat pellets, regurgitated owl pellets featuring wild rat parts, rats, dead or alive that your cat drug in, rats your dog threw up. Any of these is swell evidence that you have wild rats, a hugely important component of nature’s food chain in these or just about any, parts.


Like espy this bird.
















That’s a red-shouldered hawk on the lookout for a delicious wild rat.

So rush your documentation to Red’s Good Vs. Evil Cow Barn (RGVECB) and get your Genuine Druid Certifed Wildlife Friendly Yard certification as soon as an available Druid can check it out.

Mercy!

The Weather is Crazy, Crazy I Tell You!

These parts are a total mess, weather ways. Is it weather ways or weather wise? Same difference, maybe.

So 2011 of the Julian was the hottest and driest ever recorded in these parts. And so far, the winter of 2012 has been super wet and mild. Like the CB has enjoyed mass quantities of precipitation and only nine nightly frosts. Only one of the nightly frosts carried much sting.

Therefore, many perennials have already leafed out. The green ash, for example, has already leafed out. Good Goddess! The green ash leafed out during the first week of February. How crazy is that?

Last spring, if you want to call it that, spring, a few baby red buckeyes came up. The subsequent great heat killed them all. Killed them, I tell you.


This winter, so far, only one baby red buckeye has sprung to life. Here it is. Any bets on when it will go deciduous? Will it survive to this time next year? Mercy!

The Call of the Wild

What's the best time to visit Alaska? Easy that. If you dwell or stay in these parts, you might consider which time of the year is fixing to be the hottest, then go to Alaska during that time. Course it's a little hard to predict when the weather shall be hottest in these parts (too much competition), but August of the Julian is a good bet. Yepper. August, whether hottest or not, is a good bet for miserable weather and a swell or sweltering time to be somewhere cooler, like Alaska.

Mercy! Many a terrible, hot time, equivalent to Hades has Crumby endured. Yes. Crumby has dwelt his entire life within the miserable confines of the super heated Republico duh Tejas, almost. Mercy! In Tejas or close by his entire life. And 1/12 of that time, approximately, was August. Jeez Louise!

Semi poetic interlude:

Yet now, since the people continuously make shit hotter, mow the dead grass and live weeds shorter, and blow the corpses around with leaf blowers, oh!, how the hot wind blows. Goodness!

So naturally, just considering a change from the dreaded Austink August, Alaska at that time would be a wonderful treat. Yes it would. Alas!

Meantime, that crazy pyrrhuloxia that showed up at the CB the week of the Winter Solstice is still here. Every day it can be seen scrounging seeds from the ground underneath one of the bird feeders. Presumably, it gets seeds the other birds drop. Yes. Some birds are smart enough to operate the feeders by themselves, including the supposed close relative of the pyrrhuloxia, the northern cardinal. How about that? The cardinals can get seeds out of the feeders, but the pyrrhuloxia can't, or won't.

Is this sad fact true of all pyrrhuloxias, or is this particular pyrrhuloxia a retard? Crumby wants to know.

Anyway, Crumby has always figured that out of range members of Class Aves are out or range due to a knock to the noggin. So maybe if this pyrrhuloxia we are discussing was at home and hadn't been slapped up side the haid, it would be capable of operating a feeder. Maybe!

New Bur-Clover Afflicts Cow Barn

With all the incredible changes going on as a result of the death of nature in these parts, it's not surprising that the Eurasian winter weeds have been chomping at the bit, fixing to invade the CB. Yes. Those winter weeds feel like they need to fill the holes formerly occupied by the grass which is now deceased.


Yes. Before nature gives up on Stinky Valley entirely, we need to go through the homogenization and simplification phase. That's where the few remaining plants left alive prior to the death of nature are the same everywhere. Which brings us to the new weed at the CB. This happens to be Medicago arabica. Swell!

Er. Seems like the specific epithet, arabica, might have caused someone at the Dept of Ag. to blink. But of course, this one was imported a long time ago. Mercy!

Google to Sell Souls to Satan

Wow! Hard on the heels of the big gov censorship deal that temporarily went bust, we get Google (Elgoog spelled backwards) fixing to sell many of our souls to Satan. Excuse me. Actually, Google shall be dealing directly with the Demon Mammon. But since the Demon Mammon works for the Demon Satan, it's the same difference, probably.

Mercy! Even Crumby has come to depend on Google for this or that. Yet everyone knows that Google keeps close tabs on Crumby's meanderings across the Internet. Spooky! Google knows where Crumby goes. Google knows what Crumby buys. Google knows all Crumby's likes, desires or potential transgressions. It's like a God or a Demi-God or a Robot God is a mouse click away.

Goodness gracious! An average internet accessor has no need for confession or redemption. Google can take care of those dire needs, no muss no fuss, automatically. Course many yearn not for confession, forgiveness, redemption etc. But are those many innocent? Course not. They are probably more guilty than average. So righteousness prevails as Google the Robot God parades those miserable, naked, squirming internet ridden souls before the Demon Mammon. And make no mistake. The Demon Mammon knows how to exploit those wicked, naked sinners. Yes he does.

Meantime, Crumby has taken another vow regarding the news. As everyone knows, the news is unhealthy. Plus, the news is redundant. Like this time all Crumby got from paying attention to the news was more confirmation that the Soviet Union was the last hope of the white race, and our precious ruling class is totally out of ideas. So Crumby has sworn off the news, yet again, Google allowing.

Damn! News is not healthy.

Mercy! A while back, Crumby had taken sort of a vow not to watch the news ever again. Because the news is not healthy. But then the Secesh Booblican antics, now focused on Dogpatch, that kept filtering into Crumby’s noggin via accidental osmosis proved irresistible. And when our own Tejas Jefe, Reek, got involved, Crumby was hooked. Mercy! Crumby started paying attention to the dern news again. Dang!

Crumby still believes that ultimately, Jefe Reek, shall win the nomination. Even though, Reek, has now officially withdrawn from the race-baiting. But who knows. Anyway, here is the likely winning scenario for Reek.

The Newtster and the Mittster wind up deadlocked at the convention. Then what? The miserable Booblicans shall perhaps then turn to Reek (duh! obviously) as the only viable alternative liable to out debate the incumbent. Who, the incumbent,by the way, is both a super monopoly capitalist and imperialist just like all the Booblicans. Mercy!

Here’s a cool way out for our Jefe still winning the super nomination, and eventually, the major election in November. Like our Jefe once recalled publicly that Reek Santorum is a Papist. Well. That memory could come back eventually to haunt the Newtster, who, despite his endorsement by our Jefe, is also a Papist. Yes! Our Jefe shall eventually remember that Papist Newtster is liable to sell us (US) out to the Pope in Italy, quicker than a dead Kennedy. And this current Pope, what's his name, is not even Italian. Consider that! Mercy on us and especially me!

Say! Didn’t the Newtsters latest wife formerly enjoy a career in the moving pictures. Crumby, whose memory is semi-eidatic, seems to recall that Canasta played the alien beauty that seduced Martin Short’s character in the film version of Mars Attacks!. Goodness gracious! That was quite a role for the lovely Canasta.

But inevitably, Crumby can’t figure out why the Secesh of Dogpatch are always hollering about how they are better Americanos than anybody else. After all, they took up arms against the Union in defense of slavery. And how about those Morminks. Most of them were super ready to take up arms against the USA in defense of plural marriage, also known as polygamy. Course, in defense of the Morminks, a great many of those olden Jews, Solomon for example, were also for plural marriage. So no wonder the Morminks were hot to trot against the Union. Which would you rather? The USA or multiple, hot, young virgins in the boudoir, I mean bedroom. Hey! Where do we draw the line? Where? Especially considering the important doctrine of redemption. Where? Dern! Dang! Does redemption go for Morminks,too?Goodness gracious sakes alive!

Dang! Dern! Indeed! Well. In the evangelical world of instant absolution for those that weep on TV, any wickedness is probable.

OK. No matter how the greatest potential debate of this date in time during this particular year turns out, and no matter who wins Saturday. Crumby would like to thank the candidates, plus the elderly inhabitants of Dogpatch. A good time may have been had by all, eventually.

Little Birdie Faces

Some birds have innocent or sweet looking faces. Others do not. Today we are concentrating on two of the more innocent or sweet appearing bird faces we enjoy at the CB.


Field Sparrow - Field Sparrows actually eat little bluestem seeds. Goodness!



















Red-Shouldered Hawk


Interestingly, the little avain ingrates that come to the bird feeders pay no mind to the red-shouldeed hawk. That is, everything littler than a house sparrow pays no mind. House sparrow or bigger? Yes they are spooked. Whereas, all the avian varmints scare away when a sharpie is about. All scare! Mercy! Merci!

The Secessionist

Many have speculated, what will Dr. Paul do once he loses the GOP nomination? Will he run as a third party candidate? Mercy! What would happen, then? Would we all die or become, like zombies? Yes. What then? What then? Uh. What then?

But consider this! What if Jefe Rick Perry actually fails to become the eventual nominee of the GOP. Now that’s unlikely, that Rick might actually lose, but it could happen. And if Rick loses out for the GOP nomination, he might take the third party route himself; just as easily as Dr. Paul could.

But what party besides the Republicans could Rick head up? Easy that, he could head up the Secesh Party ticket. That’s right. Rick could run for president of the US while at the same time advocating the secession of Tejas from the union. If our Jefe actually loses the GOP nomination, then sadly yet obviously, he will have failed to convince many possible voters that Tejas is a model for the rest of the US. But he could try again with the same theme, possibly with more success, as the Secesh candidate.

Yes. If elected president, our Jefe shall lead Tejas out of the union and into a new, exciting wilderness. Or, if he loses, just as good. Tejas still leaves the union. Running on the Secesh ticket is thus seen as a win-win option. Plus, the various other minor states could then easily follow the Tejas lead and secede too. Mercy! What a grand deal that would be. Like maybe Mississippi or South Carolina could become its own country. Goodness! How swell? Reckon any of the newly independent countries would change names. Like maybe some new Secesh nation could then change its official title to the True or Actual Capitalist Republic of Dogpatch.

Jon-Ron-Mitt-Newt-Rick-Rick

First names are super important. Yet first of all, how can a John be made more interesting or unique. Easy that, take out the h. What’s your name, honey? They call me Jon, without the h.

Or, you can take out the h, then substitute an R for the J to get Ron. Man alive! You could easily combine those first names. Jonron. Ronjon. Sounds like a great name for a big company that employs plenty of hard-working Americanos. Eh?

Mitt and Newt are mighty cute.
Newt and Mitt are full of shit.

Many wonder or speculate on, what the doubly popular name, Rick, is short far. Well. Rick is actually short for Ricktum, which is a corruption of the Latin, Rectum.

Bur Clover

Times are always evil in these parts. That's because the evil doers far outnumber the righteous or semi-innocent. But thanks to climate change, evil is more evil than ever before, maybe.


Here's an example of how all this evil plays out. These parts are often brown in the summer and green in the winter. But last summer, not only did lots of the grass turn brown, it actually died. This picture shows a bunch of dead buffalo grass, proving once more, that buffalograss, like all living things, needs a little water. But it didn't get a little water. So it died.

Now, the bur clover, mostly Medicago polymorpha and M. minima, have a good chance of taking over and becoming the dominant plant here. Yes. They are nice and green now, but by May they shall shrivel up, leaving nought behind but a billion seeds. Then, all shall appear totally dead at this particular location by August. Dead I tell you. Dead!

Yes. The annuals shall replace the perennials. How evil is that? Mercy!

Oh! There are more Eurasian weeds here than bur clover. There is Shepherd's purse. There is sow thistle. There is dandelion. Yet they shall all, also, shrivel up in the great heat to come. Oh my Goddess!