Euphorbia (Chamaesyce) fendleri

Ha! Look at this one Hope. It's labeled Euphorbia and the rest of its epitaph is erased. That Crumby is such a lala he labels in pencil so he can erase the record of his wicked past. Did I tell ye how mean the twain of em was to me this mornin, that sister of mine especially?

Yes, you did touch on that subject Ray.

Runnin' me off and sendin' me out in the sub zero dead plant storage area fer Goddess Sake. Jeez Louise it was so cold out there a possum was froze to the washin' machine. That possum sure will be delicious.

Ray! We're not going to eat a possum, are we?

Well ordinarily we wouldn't, but this particualr possum was sincerely dead and yet tolerably fresh, bein' froze and all, so I figure, waste not want not. It's us er the compost er the dogs ere the pigs will get em.

How do you cook possum Ray?

Well now, possum is a might on the greasy side so the best way is to pop him in the oven in a big kettle with a grease rack on the bottom and cook him at about 350 degrees fer a couple of hours and most of the grease will run off em. Then ye can pop in some whole sweet taters er apples and let them bake in their with that possum fer about another hour. Then he's ready. Mmm mmmmm. Delicious!

My goodness gracious Ray. I don't think I care for any possum. I might pass on the possum, all righty then.

Ye don't know what ye shall be missin', but I can understand ye not wishin' to eat possum much. It's probably the way they grin at ye. It's hard to eat a little wonder that grins at ye. Then too, they are a tad on the unusual in their appearance with them nasty lookin' little pink feet. They are a sight, indeed. One time I reached down in a big old trash can without lookin' first, and Praise the Goddess, fer a chance I had some gloves on, fer this baby possum bit on to that glove and hung on fer dear life, greein at me the whole time. I was so dang took a back I just stood there a watchin this youngster of a possum, no bigger that a large roof rat hangin' on my glove. After awhile that possum and the glove fell off and derned if that possum didn't race off with my glove, but I hollered at that particular possum, let loose a that glove, so then he dropped that glove and proceeded on his way.

Goodness Ray. You are so brave. Why were you going through the trash can?

Well Hope, I had a number of trash cans that I visited on a regular basis in those days fer a variety of reasons, all of which I don't precisely recollect and maybe don't particulary wish to recall in any great detail. Perhaps we should change the spell fer the nonce, fer I, Ray, am waxin' nostalgic fer them good ol' happy days when alterantively I should be front and center with this here spurge du jour. Ha! This will be a good un fer Crumby to consider in the starry afore dawn. And won't Rayetta the Mean Druidess be mighty surprised at my overarchin' productivity. Want to hep me load er up?

Why surely I would Ray.

All righty then. Crumby ran across this one in Taylor, County, '97. It has no seeds, but I took a couple of pictures anyhow, due to its interesting appendages.

Ray, I don't see any appendages.

Yer an astute observer yet agin, Hope, fer it apparently has none, er barely.

On the other hand, ye may be able to discern the barely appendages in this picture. Certain they are a far cry from the general appendages these particular spurges of this genus generally possess.
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All righty then. Won't Crumby be delighted that his bosom companion has identified, a scant eight rides on the merry-go-round hence, one of his spurges, fer em. Ha! How bout a looksee at the moon, fer She is high in the sky?

All righty then, a moonlight stroll with Ray the spurge buster.

Yikes! Sedge Buster! I need to put up a Phaestoglchin too, but such can await the wee hours. Let us stroll in the moonlight.