Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 13

In the late hours of the stygian darkness and neon glow, pre-dawn, Ray attended to his usual ablutions and dressed as usual, but in mostly fresh garments from his suitcase. Then he packed up and deposited all his belongings in the Crown Vic. Then he went door to door at the tourist court knocking everyone of his retinue up so that they should depart anon. But Chitlin could not be found and Sleeza was not adorned satisfactorily, and only Rumpler was all set. Rumpler was indeed, up and at em, instructing a minion on how to affix undears to the radio antenna of his limousine, so that all who espied the passage of Rumpler in that particular limousine should then get the shivers over the power and majesty of Rumpler.

“Dad gum it. This bunch is generally no account.” thought Ray. “All righty then. Rumpler, I, Ray am heading out. The rest of this bunch can follow along as best ye may.”

“But the Kinglet instructed us to help you Ray, on your quest. You should not abandon us, altogether, for we are a great help even if you do not believe it. However, if you must depart anon, before Chitlin can be found and before the final adornment of Sleeza, let me first have a tailing device affixed to the Crown Vic so that we may catch up later on.”

“All righty then, Rumpler.”

So Rumpler had a minion or two a-fix a tailing device to the Crown Vic so that Ray’s retinue should catch up with Ray anon, maybe, or at the least know where Ray was, maybe.

Ray headed out and made good progress for the Crown Vic knew which direction to take automatically and all Ray had to do was drive, drive, drive. Ray drove, drove, drove and had a delicious breakfast and a delicious dinner out of his magic sack and kept on driving for Ray was fired up and scarcely distracted from the quest and only stopped a few times along the way to perform ablutions and never thought about anything but the quest except when an interesting tune was on the radio or when he had to identify birds on the phone lines or botanical wonders on the back slopes of the highway. Nonetheless and despite these distractions, Ray made good progress and the Crown Vic throbbed along expeditiously.

Ray was driving along expeditiously when he chanced to espy a great black man up ahead on the shoulder trudging along in the same general direction as the Crown Vic and this particular great black man was afflicted with burdens, not only the mighty hump on his back, but also with a swine under each arm. Then too a tiny white dog with red ears accompanied the black man and the tiny white dog with red ears was also burdened for she carried a great swine in her jaws also. Ray‘s genetic proclivities pronounced that he should either honk the horn at the black man or toss a horse apple at the black man, but Ray overrode his genetic proclivities and the Crown Vic and Ray slowed somewhat to equalize momentums with the great black man and the tiny white dog with red ears.

“Want a lift, fer I espy that ye and yer little dog er afflicted with great burdens.” Ray hollered once momentums were generally equalized.

“Yeah. These wayward swine is mitey afflictin', both fer me and Tiny. So we may get in if we all fit, fer ye must give these big swines a lift also. These here swine may not be left on account of all the trouble we had roundin’, em up.”

“Get in then. Put them swine in the back seat though.”

So the black man and Tiny put the swine in the back seat of the Crown Vic in such fashion that there in the back seat set the three great swine and in the front seat was Ray driving and Tiny beside Ray and the black man ridin’ shotgun. Then onward they all progressed in the same general direction they had all been headed, but soon Tiny wanted to look out the window so they re-arranged a mite so Tiny could stick her head out the window.

“So,” says Ray, “where are y’all headed with those swine and why might ye be totin’ such great beasts along the roadside.”

“True it be that they no rest fer the weary. Fer I be Swineherd to the terrible great giant Upyeraholes, Chief Justice and many are the swine I be doomed to herd and most all of em be wayward as these three herein yer Crown Vic that were most lately run off from the herd.”

“Yer Upyeraholes Swineherd, fer sure? This is my lucky day and moment then. For I seek the castle of Upyeraholes, Chief Justice so that I may have sexual intercourse with his daughter, Olwen.” exclaimed Ray excitedly.

“No, no, no. Ye don’t want to go there. Many a young gentleman such as yerself has fooled with Upyeraholes and all that have fooled around as ye describe wound up as swine chow. Upyeraholes has em delivered to me, dead er mostly dead, and I must grind those poor boys up fer a component of the swine chow.”

“Jeez Louise, really?”

“That’s so.”

“Whoa! Er, nonetheless that’s where I am headed fer my mommy says I caint have sexual intercourse with nought but Olwen first.

“Yer mommy told ye that? How old are ye, boy?”

“Three and a half.”

“Well I swan. But ye been warned and this is where we get off. Espy that great expanse of parlors yonder. That is where we are headed and no roads leads yonder. So Tiny and me and the swine must get out here fer to proceed there too. But if ye got to go visit Upyeraholes, ye must needs to go visit with my wife where we stay a-fore ye go to visit Mr. Upyeraholes. Fer Delilah, my old lady, may have some valuable information fer ye.”


“But how do I get there and how will I know this Delilah, yer wife?”

“Just follow this here road. It will take a while to get there. Tell ye whut. Gimme that steerin' wheel knob and I will arrive before ye and speak of ye to Delilah so everything will be fixed up fer yer arrival.”

“All righty then, but I may need this here steering wheel knob back once all this is settled.”

So Ray halted the momentum of the Crown Vic and presented the black man with the steering wheel knob. Then the black man and Tiny extricated the three swine from the back seat and Ray watched them for a minute or two as they all made good progress in the direction of the vast expanse of parlors.

“See ye anon, maybe,” hollered Ray at the departing black swineherd and at Tiny and at the three great swine they were toting. Then all Ray had to do was drive, drive, drive.

Sedge Buster Part 2 Cyperus Lesson 11

The only justification for this lesson is someone wanting a color picture of spikelet fragments, scales and achenes of Cyperus pseudovegetus. The achenes are in the neighborhood of 1.3mm. As you can see, maybe, they are gray and curvy. The scales are also curvy. This species supposedly has nodulose leaves. However, my two specimens don't have any leaves. And the bracts, which they do have, aren't nodulose. Nodulose means, in this case, that the leaves have membrananceous partitions, crossways, at intervals along the insides of the leaf. One can generally feel these partitions, if one has the leaves handy, or even see them in a microscope. But I have none, handy, for Cyperus pseudovegetus.
____

Ah ha. Look what fair person has graced the laboratory. It is none other than Rayetta, that is the LDR. Did all the famous rattite bone scientists get on the airplane Okie Dokie, Rayetta?

Crumby. That was the stupidest stunt I have ever seen. That bone is such a ridiculous fake. And that half wit spore print was so bogus. Everyone immediately spotted that you had drawn part of it in. Now Crumby, swear to the WG and tell the truth. You just made all that up for fun, didn't you? Surely, even your addled noggin can not countenance any of that nonsense.

Yepper, I made it all up, fer fun. And it was fun too. Er, almost all of it. Did you think it was lotsa fun, Rayetta?

Hmmm. I won't say. Because I don't want to encourage you. Because if I do, encourage you, everyone will think I'm an idiot too, maybe.

In that case, I can tell you Rayetta that Jesus talks to me all the time and he tells me that he is very sorry that his followers persecute the Druids and very sorry that they persecute me, Crumby in particular. Also he says that my rattite bone, though lacking perhaps actual artifactual credibility, has much in the way of metaphorical credibility. Rayetta, are you laughing at me, or with me?

Crumby's devine spore print.

Spring has Sprung

Goodness gracious! Look at that Ray!

Whoa! That aint right!

Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 12

“So first cousin Ray. Now that we have defaced that hateful visage somewhat, let’s go back to my orifice and you can tell me what boon you would like me to grant. For never have I seen a young man more deserving of a boon or two.” So the first cousins, that is both the Kinglet and Ray promenaded back to the orifice. “Pull up that chair Ray, and inform your Kinglet what he can do you for.”

“It’s like this Kinglet, my new mommy foretold that I caint have sexual intercourse, ever, until I have sexual intercourse first with Olwen, daughter of Upyeraholes, Chief Justice. So my daddy says that you could hep me in my quest to have sexual intercourse with Olwen because you are my first cousin as well as the Kinglet, most powerful and best situated in all the land.”

“Heh, heh, - heh, heh. But Upyeraholes, Chief Justice is a big bad giant. Heh, heh. He lives in a terrible big castle far away. Why do you reckon your new mommy foretold such a quest? There’s plenty other girls easier than Upyerahole’s daughter. Why I have two very nice daughters myself that would be far easier pickings for such a one as yourself Ray, with all your obvious accouterments and talents. Why you could try them both out and see which one you liked best.”

“No great Kinglet, my new mommy specifically said that Olwen was the one, fer me, and indeed I am obsessed with thoughts of Olwen and a general longing for Olwen, daughter of Upyeraholes. None other but Olwen will serve, though I am only three and will require an epiphany or two before I am ready to have sexual intercourse with her. And I don’t recollect why my new mommy designated Olwen, fer me. There’s no accounting, fer it. So in the names of all your minions I, Ray, invoke this boon, to whit, that you will hep deliver to me Olwen, so that I may have sexual intercourse with her. This boon I invoke in the name of Chitlin of the Many Secret Locations who is also a mighty hunter of small birds, and Tom the ‘Bezzler, much feared by vermin and varmints up to the size of rats, and beloved of those Christians who wish to be parted from their money, and Slezza who knows all the nicest places to shop and looks fairly smart even in foreign parts, and Hughes the Honey Tongued, gate cow, and Myers the Pocket Lawyer, that confused the mighty with her strange spells, and Rumpler that wears undears upon his head, and Rover the Clever, that always gets away with the silverware, and Frist the White Collar, video doctor, and Dennis the Fat who wears his belt buckle parallel to the ground, and McCain that Rover says is a Race Mixer that is not much good at sucking up, but tries hard anyway, and Joe the Senator from Tel Aviv, and Jack of the many photo ops, and Bird Flu Chertoff who escaped the great flood, and Ms. Spellings of the Public Schools , and the Kinglets First Lady whose simpering reverberates throughout the land, and Brownie the Great who betrayed the Kinglet and ....”

“Heh, heh. Ray. Heh, heh. That’s enough. I will grant your boon and help as much as I can and all my minions shall help as I commandeer them. All righty then?”

“All righty then, Kinglet. Whom of these yer minions will then go with me upon my quest and hep me?”

“These will I send, Ray, for they do not fear justice, great or small. Chitlin will I send if he can be found, and Rumpler, and Sleeza. Rover I can not spare, but him too will I send should your quest take a turn for the worse and his mysterious talents be required.“

The next day the Kinglet announced a meeting and Chitlin, Rumpler and Sleeza were told that they would get duties as assigned at the meeting and Rover was told to come to the meeting also. But the meeting was delayed awhile because Chitlin could not be found, but finally Rover rounded him up and the Kinglet told all of his minions about Ray and Ray’s quest and that they were supposed to help Ray achieve his quest. None of the minions wanted to help, but the Kinglet said he didn’t care if they wanted to help or not. “You minions all have to help Ray and that’s that”.

That very afternoon they all set off. The manner of their setting off was, Ray said, “Y’all can ride with me.” But Chitlin and Rumpler and Sleeza all began to whine in unison when they heard Ray’s proffered offer and each said that they just must have a great vehicle to ride in separately and to haul all the equipment each would require for the quest and also a minion to drive the vehicle and a gun thug or two each in their vehicles and in separate vehicles also so that none might hinder them upon the quest.

“All righty then,” agreed Ray, for Ray was focused in on the quest and hot to get going upon the quest and didn’t want to argue. So anon a great fleet of those vehicles known as limousines was assembled on the palace lawn in a long row of limousines parked in a line behind the Crown Vic. And lo, a multitude of minions appeared and these same minions loaded this and that equipment into the limousines while a multitude of minions stood guard over the vehicles and Chitlin, and Rumpler and Sleeza officiated over the loading up of their own separate vehicles. All this took awhile for there was much to load up and a confusion of bickering and hurt feelings and chastisements of the lowliest minions.

But eventually all was made ready and the Kinglet came out from the palace upon the lawn and spoke to the host that was to depart behind Ray and help Ray. “Ya’ll need to help Ray in his quest to have sexual intercourse with Olwen, daughter of Upyeraholes, Chief Justice. Heh, heh. And don’t come back here until you have persecuted this quest to its ultimatum happy ending. And to Ray, the Kinglet opined, “Be good, heh, heh, or if you can’t be good, heh,heh. Be careful, heh, heh.”

Then the Kinglet at last signaled that the Crown Vic and the great fleet lined up on the lawn behind the Crown Vic was to depart and there was a great roar of vehicles starting up and they were all to depart out the gate, but two of the limousines wouldn’t start so then they had to substitute limousines for those two recalcitrant limousines that wouldn’t start and re-pack everything up amidst recriminations, bickering, hurt feelings and chastisements of the lowliest minions.

But eventually all was made ready again and the Kinglet waved the fleet out the gate, but by then it was very late in the afternoon. Ray, leading out in the Crown Vic was provided with a walkie-talkie so he could talk with those in his rear view mirror and also they in the rear view mirror could talk at Ray. So anon there was much discussion of how late it was getting and how hungry Chitlin was, and Sleeza needed to change outfits, and Rumpler was car sick. So Ray, though much aggravated by the whining and pokiness of his host and the intermittent progress did at last give way and all the great fleet of limousines fetched up at a tourist court on the edge of town that had a hamburger restaurant next door. At the tourist court on the edge of town the night was spent, but Ray, slept only fitfully and found but scanty comfort in himself. But the onion rings were, delicious.

The Inquisition

We have here assembled today at Red’s Good Vs. Evil Cowbarn (CB) a great collection of scientific minds from the American Museum of Un-Natural History (AMUNH), plus the very famous Rayetta Pistrum, known far and wide as the Lovely Druidess Rayetta, an authority on most everything, to evaluate the artifactual evidence (a rattite bone) that Mr. Crumby Ovate has offered up as evidence that he, Mr. Crumby Ovate, is a descendant of that same Jesus of Nazareth the Christians put forward as a (the) sungod. So to begin. Let’s first go around to each of the assembled famous scientists so that each may brag a bit about all their accomplishments, past, present and future.

No way dude.

What’s that Mr. Ovate?

No way. I got a busy schedule and I’m not a-gonna sit here and listen to all that.

Mr. Ovate, it is customary to begin all meetings with introductory biographies of all the famous participants.

I don’t care. Red, tell em Druids don’t do it that a-way.

Er, yer correct Crumby. Honored famous chairman of the assembled scientists. Druids have busy schedules so ye can ferget that part, and proceed ahead on to the next eventuality.

Ahem. Well we do not want to upset local customs so let’s see, what’s next? Ahem.

Chairperson, make Crumby fetch in his bone.

Ahem. Good idea Rayetta. Let’s have a look at your rattite bone, Mr. Ovate.

Ha! Well I’ll tell you a little secret then about that particular rattite bone, Honorable Chairperson. It has disappeared, miraculously, just as it appeared, miraculously.

No it hasn’t, Crumby. Goodness gracious. Ray and I found it this morning. Ray said to me, Hope, why is Lulu digging furiously in the south fenceline compost pile? And I replied, oh my goodness, whatever is that little dog digging up? Therefore, the twain of us, both Ray and myself, traversed to the south fenceline compost pile, and indeed, there was Crumby’s rattite bone partially exposed, as indicated by the furious digging of the terrier Lulu. So we have fetched it forth, knowing full-well it’s importance to you Crumby and to all those here assembled.

Uh oh.

What’s that Mr. Ovate?

Nothing your honor.

Ms. Hope Remains, could you please bring that bone over here so we scientists may inspect it.

Certainly, your honor.
______

The famous scientists take their time inspecting the bone. Many measurements are taken and much clicking of caliper on bone transpires. And the LDR is very helpful, pointing out this and that about the bone to the assembled scientists.

Ahem. Mr. Ovate! It is our general agreement that this particular rattite bone once belonged to an emu, the thigh of an emu specifically. Can you explain how Jesus might have acquired the thighbone of an emu?

Yepper yer honor. Easy that. A great host was assembled and all of em were hungry
as pigs. So Jesus says, “How would yall like some fried chicken?” And all of em in the great host hollered back at Jesus, “Yepper, fried chicken is delicious. We’d all like some fried chicken.” Then Jesus speculated that a chicken might not do for the many in the assembled great host, but an emu er two might feed all of em, so he conjured up a fried emu er two and everyone there had a swell supper.

Mr. Ovate, are you aware that the emu inhabits Australia, not Israel? Further, the rattite that Jesus might have more likely substituted for a chicken, is the ostrich. Why do you think Jesus would conjure up emus, rather than ostriches to feed the hungry host?

Er, easy that. Jesus was in Australia spreading the good news to the heathen Australians. This happened when Jesus was a boy and nobody recollects where he went, but he went to Australia to hep feed the heathen Australians and save their heathen souls.
____

The assembled scientists, astonished by Crumby’s revelation pertaining to the boyhood of Jesus, consult among themselves. Finally, after much deliberation, the Chairman inquires, “Mr. Ovate, do you have artifactual evidence that the boy Jesus visited Australia?”

Noper, I don't. But ye do. Ye have my rattite bone. And I want it back when yer finished with it.
_____

Thus it would appear that Crumby has triumphed over the forces of logic and fact arrayed against him. But wait.
_____

Oh Crumbe-eey. I, the LDR have a direct question - for you. Now remember Crumby. Druids must answer direct questions truthfully. So I request that you swear by the WG that you will answer truly to my question.

_____

Yikes! What will Crumby do now? Rayetta has him like a trapped rat. Goodness gracious!
_____

Why certainly Rayetta. I will most happily answer any question of that nature put to me, truly. But first, and curiously, I just happen to have made a spore print from a gill mushroom that some in these parts spell “pink bottoms”. And Jesus tells me that the spore print left by this mushroom looks exactly like his mother. Would anyone like to see?

Hope for Ray

Goodness gracious sakes alive. Red reports 2.4 tics in the rain guage this morning so the running total for "I am Cotton for Spit Month and the CB Tree is Two Species of Aesculus" is a whopping 5". Yippee! Some of the little ones may flower at last, perhaps.

Let me see. What else? Oh yes. Here somewhere is a nice picture of the perianth of Aristolochia longiflora that some do call Aristolochia erecta and some do call swan-flower. Here also somewhere is the caterpillar that does metamophosize into the pipevine swallowtail butterfy that does habitat upon the swan-flower somewhat.

Ray is very busy. Crumby and Rayetta are also, very busy. Goodness!

Sedge Buster Part 2 Cyperus Lesson 10

So Ray, are ye about done with yer story?

Noper.

Look Ray. I need hep. And tomorrow I have to go to the airport and pick up a bunch of scientists comin' along here to investigate my bone. How am I gonna do all that and keep up with sedge buster, by myself.

Do a miracle Crumby.

Whut?

Well if yer descended from Jesus, ye should do a miracle.

Dang it Ray. Yer aggravatin' me. When are ye gonna be done with that Ray and Olwen?

Don't know Crumby. It's a long spell.

Right. A long spell. All righty then. I'm fixin' to do a sedge buster. Wanna hep.

Noper. I got to go rest up. For tomorrow I continue on my quest. Get Rayetta to hep ye. See ya.

Yeah. Maybe Rayetta will go to the airport, fer me. Anyway, tonight's sedge buster is Cyperus iria and the key spell fer it is, a bunch of extremely unequal peduncles. Peduncle is the term for the stalk of a flower, or, in this event a great bunch of florets. Let's just look at the first picture.

So, the Cyperus iria on the left is a big one, for a Cyperus iria. See, there are some long peduncles, and some that are so short ye caint see em a-tall. This is what the spell, unequal pedunccles, means, maybe.

Next is a picture of achenes and scales. They are all in the neighborhood of 1.0-1.5mm. I think this is correct. But this venue has given me so much aggravation, and taken so long to post these pictures, complicated by my many other duties, I may have forgotten the actual length of the achenes and scales. This particular sedge buster may need some editing as a consequence, anon. If I survive the bone inquistion. Yikes!

Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 11

Ray washed and dried his hands and then, reflexively, reached for his left hip pocket where he normally kept his ivory handled switchblade comb. But then he had an epiphany, left the comb where it was, normally, and exited the relative security of the very nice comfort station.

“There you are Ray, the dry underwear will do for the nonce I trust.”

“They will indeed, do for the nonce.”

“Though you may not know me, Ray, I am the Kinglet, your first cousin, and I was apprized of your coming. For there is little that passes, even much that is unprecedented, that I do not eventually discover. I, the Kinglet have great powers of eventual discovery, even of the unprecedented. Frequently, all that I must do is opine on a subtopic, and anon, even the most unprecedented aspect of that subtopic is revealed, to me.”

“That’s swell first cousin and Kinglet. I reckoned when I first espied yer person out on the lawn, and the deference yer person was shown by the minions, that ye were a person of great renown and the gift of eventual discovery, even of the unprecedented, as ye have described, indeed confirms ye are no less than the Kinglet I have come to visit. Would ye like to comb my hair?”

“Comb your hair?”

“Yepper, for I have here somewhere, normally in my left hip pocket, a magical comb that ye may employ to comb my hair.”

“Give it me then. A magical comb is unprecedented and I would very much like to discover its abilities.”

Then Ray fetched forth his ivory handled switchblade comb, held it a-fore the eager visage of the Kinglet and pressed the button.

“Whoa!” exclaimed the kinglet.

Ray proffered the comb to the Kinglet and as Ray proffered the comb, Ray foretold, “All ye have to do is wave this comb in the near proximity of my noggin and my hair shall then wax, perfect.”

So the Kinglet took the magical comb in his own hand, gingerly, and waved it in the air in the near proximity of Ray’s head. Of a sudden, every hair on Ray’s head, no matter how wayward, righted itself then and all those particular hairs that were on Ray’s head, waxed perfect, all righty then.

“Heh, heh!” exclaimed the Kinglet. “Let me just try this comb out on my own noggin.” So then the Kinglet established himself before a great mirror there in the Oval Office. Then he mussed his own hair until it was a great muss indeed. Then he waved the comb in the air near to his own noggin. But like with Ray’s hair, every hair on the Kinglet’s own head also waxed, perfect.

“Hark, I must continue this hair care activity for the nonce until it wearies me.” So the Kinglet replicated his experiment with the comb for a good while until he was wearied, of it.

Meantime, Ray, his genetic make-up kicking in, happily looked around the Oval Office for something to steal.

“That is indeed an unprecedented comb,” opined the Kinglet.

“Give it me back and I shall demonstrate yet another unprecedented marvel, fer ye.“

”Yet another as great as this comb?”

“Even so, thank ye, fer I have here in my right hip pocket, generally, the twin of the that comb.” So saying Ray reached around into his right pocket, fetched forth his knife that was the twin of the comb, and pressed the button.

“Whoa!”peeped the Kinglet.

Then Ray also fetched forth a needle, tossed it a-fore the startled visage of the Kinglet and with a flick of his wrist did cleave the needle in twain, lengthwise.

“Ye may keep that needle, both the twain halves fer a souvenir, but ye may not handle the knife, Kinglet, fer the knife is perilous to any that would handle it but me, Ray.”

The astonished Kinglet did then stoop before Ray and gather the twain halves of the needle up, fer a souvenir.

“What other accomplishments can this unprecedented knife perform, cousin Ray.”

“Ha! This I will tell ye. cousin Kinglet. For any target I think upon, then can I toss this knife and it will smite that target point first.”

“Heh, heh. Then think upon this. There is a picture round the corner of a fat man with a red nose and low morals, my predecessor as Kinglet. Toss this knife and smite that picture on its red nose and I shall grant whatever boon you shall request.”

“All righty then.” And Ray tossed the knife and it flew out of the Oval Office and round the corner and wherever else it needed to go.

“Let’s go see where it went, cousin Ray.”

So then Ray followed the Kinglet along to where the picture was hung and there was Ray’s switchblade, still quivering, inserted point first in the red nose of the Kinglet’s predecessor’s picture.

“Unprecedented” exclaimed the Kinglet, excitedly.

Sedge Buster Part 2 Cyperus Lesson 8

Tonight's lesson, Sedge Busters, is "Most leaves reduced to mere bladeless sheaths" which spell is in all the dichotomous keys. I can recall staring at this spell in wonder many times, wondering whut the heck it meant. And actually, I never did figure out what it means on my own. The WG had pity on me one night and sent an epiphany to hep me understand.

Here's whut always baffled me about this spell. Leaves and sheaths are different. Generally leaves grow at the distal ends of sheaths. Contrariwise, sheaths are the parts at the base of the leaves and generally encircle something, usualy a culm or an infloresence branch. They are a tube, generally. So no matter how much ye reduce a leaf, how do ye convert it into a tube. It's ridickle-dockle.
_____

Crumby, says the WG, why are ye not at rest upon my ample bosoms?

I caint sleep Goddess. A spell is drivin' me crazy.

Oh my goodness Crumby. Is it that bladeless sheath spell? Ha! What that spell really means is that the sheaths look like leaves and the leaf parts of the sheaths are very little.

Er. Hmmm. Then why don't it spell that way?

Oh my goodness Crumby. Don't fret about that. Go to sleep.

All righty then Goddess.
_____

So now I have provided a picture here somewhere maybe, to show ye what the WG knew and told me. This is Cyperus haspan. See, there are two sheaths shown. One has lotsa spikelets stickin out and the other one just barely has its spikeltes coming out. Where's the leaf part, ye query? Look at the lower sheath. There's a leaf stuck on its fer (distal) end.

The second picture shows an achene or two and a closeup of a spikelet. All these structures are very tiny and hard to take a picture of. I had to use a 12.5mm Celestron X-cel ep to get even this close and still have some light. The achenes are white, as ye may espy, and have many protuberances.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 10

Ray drove on in, honking happily, wavin’ out the window at the Kinglet’s many minions rushin’ about on their many minion duties, for the hum of minion industry was much apparent within the fence of the Kinglet’s palace. The Crown Vic halted, as was its wont and nature, at exactly the right spot on the lawn in front of the palace and Ray got out to stretch and inquire of one or another of the many minions rushing about where the nearest comfort was located.

“Where’s the nearest dang comfort station,” hollered Ray at an approaching group of minions, “I am much in need of performing a particular ablution, for I have drunk up a six pack of RCs on the way to these parts from the parts I was at a-fore, and I am verily in need of an ablution performance arena, anon.”

So great was the power and urgency of Ray’s spell that all the nearby minions focused in on Ray and his need and each in its own way gave out diverse directions to the nearest comfort stations, some pointing this a-way and some that a-way, and all chattering away.

“All righty then, if ye caint co-ordinate yer response collectively and rationally, I shall perform my ablution right here, in the privacy afforded twixt the Crown Vic and yonder rose bush.” And as any man of action Ray would, Ray began fixing to do just what he said. But then, lo, upon the scene appeared another, and from the grinning and curtseying and forelock tugging his appearance engendered among the minions, Ray deemed he was a person of some importance in those parts.

“What are ye fixing to do there young man?”

“I am fixing to perform a needful ablution, for I have drunk up a six pack of RCs since my last ablution.”

“Ye may not perform ablutions out here on the lawn. That would be unprecedented. Come with me and you may perform an ablution in the ablution performance area adjacent to mine own Oval Office. That is a very famous ablution performance area and will more than meet with all your own ablution requirements.”

“All righty then. But we need to move along to that area then, expeditiously.”

So then the twain of them, both Ray and the important man headed inside expeditiously and soon Ray found himself happily performing an ablution in a very nice comfort station”.

“Ah, that call was a close un, too close, for indeed I have wetted myself, slightly. Do ye perchance have some spare undears handy for mine spares are betimes in the trunk of the Crown Vic?" Ray hollered from the comfort station.

“Hmmm, my first cousin requires dry undears and here comes the Rumpler with his undears on his head,” surmised the Kinglet, for this man of importance was indeed the very Kinglet, Ray sought. “Gimme those undears off your noggin, Rumpler!”

“No! Even the Kinglet may not have the undears off my noggin.”

“Give them me. My own first cousin, Ray, is there in the very famous Oval Office comfort station and has wetted his own undears slightly and requires a dry pair.”

“No. For these particular undears are special. These undears are not merely undears, but also symbolic of the great power and prestige due to the state of affairs.”

“Give them me anyway Rumpler. Here then, I’ll just grab em off your dern old noggin. Heh, heh.”

"Noooooo Kinglet. Please don’t take my souvenir undears!"

“Now then Rumpler, go along on your important duties and if you wish you can go fetch another pair of undears for you own noggin, for I know you have a great supply.”

“All righty then, snuffle. If the Kinglet requires my souvenir undears, it must be for the best.” And Rumpler slouched off, grumpy and tearful, for his feelings were hurt.

“Ray, open the door a mite, for I have here a dry pair of undears.”

“Why thank ye. Give them me and I shall switch out. Whoa! These are mite oily, but only on one side. Ha! Dry undears.

More Telescope Tomfoolery (Revised)

So I, Crumby am out in the east pasture with the new 10" Newtonian/Dobsonian lookin' around. It's collimated now, er was last night. I got some swell looks at Jupiter and Saturn at 139x. But what I really wanted to find was the M81 galaxy that is sort of analogous to Moby Dick these days, fer me. I looked here and I looked there and I looked pert near everywhere, but alas, no M81 could I espy. Unless it was a smudgy lookin' affair I keep runnin' across. But I don't think so. I had the smudge in a TV plossl at 60x and it still looked like a smudge.

Here's the 10" Newtonian/Dobsonian, the newest CB telescopery depicted off to the left, maybe. It's beautiful, cherry red. This is some of the telescopery I was out in the east pasture with, at the very location shown. The range wand is included fer scale. Fer those of ye who are ignorant of telescopery, I have labeled some parts to wise ye up. There's a straight through finder which ye must both bend over and turn yer head sideways to espy through ( a very dangereous and vulnerable position to put yerself in, as ye may know). There's the base fer a Rigel Quick Finder gizmo, but the Rigel aint attached. Whut Rigel does is project two concentric red circles on the sky and once ye get yer Rigel and the rest of the telescopery in cahoots, the rest of the telescopery will point to where the Rigel is projectin'. Ye must squat next to the telescopery to espy through the Rigel. Then there's the Cheshire which is what ye employ to line up the two mirrors situated inside that big red tube with yer eyepiece to within 2.8 mm of where they're sposed to line up. This be called collimation. Collimation is perilous, fer me, fer it involves twistin' screws. When excited by aggravation, I sometimes twist the heads of screws, even metal ones. Under the Cheshire is a nifty 2" to 1.25" adapter with three screws and a compression ring that Lomo had layin around. It's way longer than the adapter that came with the scope and that helps limit the wigglin' of the eyepieces, which go in the adapter, when one of them is inserted in the adapter. The Cheshire and adapter are in the focuser. So that's lots of different telescopery parts.

Anyhow, I'm out in the east pasture with all this neat stuff lookin' around at this and that when all of a sudden I notice how wet ever'thing is. A heavy dew has descended or arisen. But I am not deterred so I keep searchin' for M81. But I caint find it. And I'm switchin, back and forth from a 30mm 2" wide angle ep which I am using as a finder (in lieu of bending over and, turning sidewise and having one of yearlings mount up) to the little 20mm TV, to the even littler 9mm Ortho. But finally I give up on M81 fer I am distracted by the rising of Vega and I desire to espy its environs also. So then I switch back to the 30mm, but lo and behold, I had forgot to put a lid on it and the dew had gathered on it and froze. "Dad gum it. My ep finder has iced over," I exclaimed. And that, wound all that up.

This mornin' when I went out to check around, the Zexmenia hispidawas froze too. No wonder I got so cold.

But the point of all this is, that finder has got to be relegated to some other duty. Fer to espy, through it, only the Yogi-like may prevail. Plus, it don't want to come to focus at a fer piece, only close up. It sure is purty, though. Yet another example of, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."
_____

The Revised Part

All righty then. That finder can be focused. What ye do is sight it in on a star and screw the objective out to loosen it up. Then behind the objective lens is a gnarly ring that also screws around. So ye just keep screwing the both of them in and out until the bright star comes into focus, sort of. I never did quite get that particular bright star as sharp as I wanted, for I plumb near screwed the objective out of its socket. But then I finally screwed it pretty close to where it needed to be so I could then espy fairly dim stars. Meantime though, I was bent over with my head turned sideways and I kept expectin' some feller to yell out, Now cough!

Finding a particular celestial body is not easy, fer me, due to spatial relationships which I have no intuitive sense of. Some say that having the celestial bodies appear upside down confuses them, but this don't bother me, cause I am already confused when they appear right side up. Because even right side up as they appear usually, is a spartial relationship.

So I need all the help I can get finding these particular celestial bodies and I don't need to be bent over with my head turned sideways when I'm trying to fine one, of em. I can stand the bent over aspect, mabye, but not the head turned side ways part.

Last night it was real clear so more stars were barely visible over the city lights than usual. So out I went to find M81 again. This time I had a little map that showed how to get from this star out aways from the Big Dipper er Great Bear er whatever to M81. And I could barely espy this star so that I could, aided by imagination, (I have a good intuitive sense of imagination), center it in Rigel the Quick Finder. This actually worked. Oh! But you may not know about Rigel. Rigel don't magnify so it aint much count if ye caint espy the object yerself. Rigel just projects little red circles at objects ye may wish to espy through the telescopery, and once Rigel has it's little circle on the object, ye can generally espy that object in the telescopery if ye have first rigged the telescopery and Rigel to be in general agrreement.

So I Rigeled the star imaginatively and then looked in the telescopery. Yepper, there it was. Now I pan east to find three little stars. Yepper, there they are. Then I pan east again to find three more little stars. Yepper. Then I pan a little ways further east and, no M81. But I did find the two groups of three little stars each and the finder helped a lot with that accomplishment. However, I didn't relish that accomplishment (the espying of the two groups of three little star) much because I was bent over with my head turned sideways.

Rapistrum habitat

So here's some habitat for Rapistrum rugosum. Ray likes it best when there's not much competition. Here is a couple of city blocks of Ray habitat. It's long but not very wide and, a narrow swath as it were, between the street and a new development that has been pre-landscaped. Not sure why all this bare ground was left to Ray, and Malta star thistle Centaurea melitensis, one of Ray's competitors in these habitats. If ye scrape the ground in these parts, chances are, Ray will pop up. But he won't persist, generally, when faced with lotsa competition. Ray is not seriously invasive, just opportunistic in recently scraped or plowed habitats.

This is why Ray is not on the CB serious invasive species list.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 9

Ray was cruising, checking it out, listening to the radio. Now the radio in Ray’s Crown Vic was too cool also for it only played what Ray liked, so Ray was listening to some rock-a -billy. So even if an ominous racket was emanating from the engine or a tire well, which would never happen ever with this particular Crown Vic, Ray wouldn’t hear of it. And if some unpleasant noise afflicted Ray from without, Ray would turn up the radio, and then, in those parts, none would hear nought, but Ray’s radio.

Ray was cruising. “Time for a little something to eat. Let’s see. First, I’ll have these lemon cupcakes for they should always be et first on account of dental hygiene requirements. Mmmm. Delicious! Now I’m right thirsty from those delicious cupcakes so I better have me an RC. Mmmmboy. That RC is a thirst slaker, fer sure. Now for some protein and some salt for dental hygiene. Chomp, chomp, chomp. Mmmmm. Now, all you cans and wrappers, back in the sack. Whoa! Those peanuts made me thirsty. Ha! What have we here in Cerridwen’s sack? Well I swan, a plumb full icy cold can of RC. Ha! Gulp, gulp, mmmmmm!"

Ray cruised along in this fashion for many a mile, but anon the Crown Vic cruised to a halt before a great white palace surrounded by a great fence and along and in the midst of the great fence whereat the Crown Vic halted there stood out a great gate. But the great gate was shut. “Whut’s this then. I cain’t get in if the gate’s shut.” Ray turned the radio down, rolled down the window, leaned out the window, and hollered, “Open the gate. Lemme in. Open the dern gate. Lemme in. Somebody in yonder needs to open the gate and lemme in.” Then Ray remembered the horn on the Crown Vic. Like every singular item on the Crown Vic, the horn button was special, for it featured a tiny naked lady in its midst and if Ray pressed with his thumb on the left bosom of the naked lady, the horn played one stentorian tone, and if Ray pressed with his thumb on the right bosom of the naked lady, the horn played yet another stentorian tone. This pleased Ray so much that he continued honking and hollering at the gate long after he espied a big homely lady, attendant at the gate, sprouting red in the face from the effort of shouting and gesticulating in Ray’s direction.

“All righty then. I see the stentorian tones I play have at last got your attention.“ Ray hollered. “Be ye the gate keeper?”

“You must be a fool to know me not for I am indeed the gatekeeper of the Kinglet, famed throughout the land, and indeed so important am I that I have assistant gate keepers also, both Chitlin’ of the many secret locations and Rumpler who walks about with his underwear on his head.”

“Then if yer the gate keeper, and not some cow, hobbled there to graze upon the grass, open the dang gate!”

“No. I will not.”

“Why won’t ye open the gate?”

“The Kinglet has gone to his supper, or retired or is disporting about or he may be watching TV, or performing some other of his many important duties, or perhaps he is ensconced in the comfort station performing some needful ablutions. So with all this that the Kinglet may be engaged in, none may enter. So you should get away from the gate and check into a tourist court. There are some very nice tourist courts about and many of the rooms come with private comfort stations. Plus, there is usually some place to get a hamburger nearby and if you have any spare change the clerk at the tourist court can find you a nice lady to spend the night with. You will do no worse at a tourist court than you would with the Kinglet. Then tomorrow , if you turn up again at the gate, I, Hughes of the Honeyed Tongue, or one of my assistants, either Chitlin or Rumpler, may let you in.”

“All righty then, Honey Tongue. If you won’t let me in, I shall play stentorian tones upon my horn and holler out such foretellings that all those within shall loose their bowels, and all the ladies shall get the cramps, and all the men shall enjoy those same cramps, and the plumbing in all the comfort stations shall burst asunder. Now let me in.”

“No I will not. Yet this will I do, I will go and ask the Kinglet if I should let you in.”

Then Hughes the Honeyed Tongue went into the palace where she searched about until she found the Kinglet ensconced in his favorite comfort station. And Hughes loosed her Honeyed Tongue upon the door of the comfort station for she knew the Kinglet was beyond the door and would here her discourse also. “Mighty Kinglet, I was with you in Texas, before you did conquer that state, and I was with you on the long trail to the palace. And many at the palace I have turned away to spare you ugly and evil sights. But today there has come an especially nasty boy to the gate. And that very same very nasty boy demands entry and he will not leave the gate and is making much racket at the gate and honking a stentorian horn and shouting out terrible foretellings.”

“Heh, heh. Got to just wipe this up now. Heh, heh. It’s OK Hughes. He’s my first cousin, Ray. You shall let him in.”

And Hughes hoofed it back to the gate then and threw the great gate wide open and Ray drove through the gate, honking happily, and the radio blared, full out, “they’s the truth, the truth, a wonder workin’ truth in the tasty skin of the pig,” for Ray had switched the radio from rock-a-billy to the Druid Gospel station.

Sedge Buster Part 2 - Cyperus Lesson 7

I seem to be stuck. The Cyperus collection is interesting and I don't seem to be making much progress. These pictures are Cyperus erythrorhizos, two different ones, but both from Tangipohoa Parish in Louisiana. Check out the zigzag wings on the florets of this first one. Purty eh!
The second picture is just a few achenes and scales. This speices is big, as flat sedges go, but the scales are little, less than 2mm. The scale in the upper right of this picture still has wings attached.

Hope for Ray

Goodness gracious sakes alive. The weather has been cold and cloudy lately. Last night we got a solitary tic in the rain gauge which gets us up to 2.6 tics for “I am Cotton for Spit Month and the CB Tree is Two Species of Aesculus”. Yepper, we should have some few bluebonnets anon. A few is much better than one, maybe.

Which brings to mind a sad story. Many moons ago, Crumby was out and about and chanced to venture upon a newly fenced off construction site hard upon a great highway. But Crumby new that particular site had Cymopterus macrorhizus habitating on it. C. macrorhizous is a pretty and diminutive carrot, endemic to these parts. So Crumby rescued three of these little carrots when no one was looking. Alas, two of the little carrots expired and are thrown upon the Mercy of the Goddess. But one persists, all alone. So now we would very much like to find our little carrot a companion or two. If anyone knows where we could find our little carrot some company, please let us know.

Goodness. Look who’s here. Hello Rayetta.

Hello Hope. Hope dear, have you been keeping up with Ray and Olwen?

Why yes, I have Rayetta. It certainly appears that Ray’s prospects are waxing fortuitous.

Hmmmm. Yes, Ray appears well accoutered. What more could a girl ask for?

Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 8

Ray’s excited state maintained itself throughout the evening and the wee hours and the passing later hours that herald the dawn. Ray slept, but fitfully, and Ray would arise once in a while to fiddle with this or fuss with that. But time carries us all along until she drops us and so it was with Ray. And at last, finally, Ray decided the time was right to array himself for his trip to Cousin Kinglet George’s Palace. “I shall appear really cool, top to bottom.”, thought Ray, and he began to work on the top first. Ray applied a liberal coating of a pink gooey substance to his head hair so that this same head hair that he had upon his head at that time would assume a perfect flat top on the top, but the sides, Ray swept into ducktails. “Too cool thought Ray,” satisfied. Then Ray picked out a white T-shirt, white undears and white poly-cotton socks and put those on. Then he carefully inspected himself in the mirror, for if any of these garments had visible holes, Ray intended switching out to another similar garment, but they all appeared Okie Dokie for visible holes. Then Ray carefully rolled up the arm containers on his T-shirt a couple of notches so that any who wished might better inspect his arm muscles. Next, Ray pulled on some Levis and rolled the leg containers on those up a couple of notches so that anyone who wished might espy his white socks. Next, Ray got out his black penny loafers, spit shined those and inserted his feet therein. “Too cool,” thought Ray. Then for his last garment which might or might not be required, but which could be efficaciously transported when not in use, Ray picked out a Levi jean jacket that perfectly matched his britches and put that on. “Perfect,” thought Ray.

Next Ray rounded up all the stuff that went in his pockets normally. Some of these items had specific pockets and some others, like spare change, could go anywhere. The most troublesome of these items, and the ones that engendered some minor cognitive dissonance in Ray, were the switchblade comb and the switchblade knife. Ray always made sure he kept the former in his left hip pocket with his wallet, and the latter in his right hip pocket with his bandana.

Ray’s comb and knife were a matched pair and the handles were ivory. The comb had this nature, that all Ray had to do was wave it in the general vicinity of his noggin and Ray’s hair would wax, perfect. The knife was so keen that Ray would toss a sewing needle in the air and slice the sewing needle length wise with that knife. Also, that knife, tossed, would always hit on its point and never miss its target.

Thus accoutered, Ray tossed a bunch of other white socks, T-shirts, undears , jeans, hair wax and toothpaste into his suitcase and headed out. First stop, was the breakfast nook where Ray found a sack on the table. The sack spelled, Ray. Inside the sack, was a can of RC, a twin pack of vaguely flavored Lemon Hostess Cupcakes, and a cellophane tube of Lance Peanuts. Furthermore a note was in the sack with instructions, to whit, “Ray, when you finish the RC and the cupcakes and the peanuts, put the can and the wrapper and the cellophane tube back into the sack and next time you get hungry those items will be restored and ready for you to consume, again. “ Cool,” thought Ray, for these very three food items were his favorites and he now had an endless supply.

Next stop was the garage area. “Whoa!” Ray could not believe his eyes. Conspicuously parked in the garage area was a ‘56 Crown Vic; customized, raked, glass packed, steering knob with matching shifter knob, baby moons, white sidewalls turned around, cream white exterior with a black roof to show off the crown, cream white rolled and pleated leather interior, and the engine, hood popped, gleamed with chrome. This particular Crown Vic had it all plus a sign affixed on the windshield spelled, Ray, and the instructions read, “All ye got to do is drive, drive, drive.” And as Ray was to discover anon, all he had to do was think where he wanted to go, and the Crown Vic took Ray, there too.

Sedge Buster Part 2 Cyperus Lesson 6

All righty then sedge busters. This one is just for fun. The picture adjoining perhaps shows Cyperus elegans achenes. These achenes are black and covered by what looks like snake skin. Also, you may see several stamens still attached to the achenes. The stamen (male sex organ)attachment is at the base of the achenes. C. elegans, especially its infloresence, is sticky to the touch (stickiness not pictured). It is a fairly large flat sedge mostly inhabiting sandy areas of the coastal plain in Texas.

Ray' Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 7

Ray was plenty excited. Getting to go to the Country Club and having some quality time with his daddy in the capacity of his daddy’s assistant caddy left Ray giddy with anticipation. Ray was so excited. “I’m a caddy, for my daddy”, Ray repeated over and over to himself, much like unto a broken record. Also, Ray was excited by the potential for progress on the subtopic, sexual intercourse with Olwen, daughter of Upyeraholes, Chief Justice.

That morning Ray was allowed to have breakfast with his family, the twain of them, both his daddy and his new mommy. The breakfast was delicious and Ray socked it in.

After the family members had plenty of breakfast, Ray’s daddy expounded, “Son, what’s this I hear about you not being able to have sexual intercourse with anyone else, before you have sexual intercourse with Olwen, the daughter of Upyeraholes, Chief Justice.”

“That’s a fact daddy. For since mommy told me about Olwen, I have had hardly any thoughts about anything else, and I want to have sexual intercourse with Olwen, real bad.”

“You do, eh. Did you know Ray, that Upyeraholes is a great giant, much feared throughout the land? Rumor has it that many have sought Olwen, but all those that have sought her and placed themselves in Upyeraholes power, have been killed, or imprisoned and tortured and then killed.”

Whoa!

“But do not despair Ray. I will think on this subtopic today, for my mind is at its keenest on the links, and I will come up with a plan that will lead eventually to your having sexual intercourse with Olwen, daughter of Upyeraholes, Chief Justice.”

“Yippee!”

“Now pay attention Ray and stop that fidgeting. This morning you will ride to the country club with Robert the Caddy. Robert will explain the duties of Assistant Caddy to you, so try to pay attention to Robert. Robert is, or should be, loading up the Country Squire for the trip over. So go find Robert over in the garage area, and I’ll see you later at the Country Club.

“Yippee, all righty then, I’m making good progress in that direction”, burbled Ray, and then he exited the breakfast venue area and actually did begin to make progress in that direction.

Ray soon arrived at the garage area where the several motor vehicles kept by his daddy were sequestered when not in use. And there, sure enough, Ray espied a gentleman loading golf and golf related apparatus into a Country Squire station wagon.

“Hark! You must be Mr. Robert, the Caddy.”

“That’s right. And you must be Mr. Ray, the Assistant Caddy, here to hep me and to learn a trade.”

“Yepper. For it is my first step on an adventure that will conclude when I have sexual intercourse with Olwen, daughter of Upyeraholes, Chief Justice.“

“Mercy, no rest on that adventure. Upyeraholes eats boys like you. He has em on sandwiches. Grab that bag, and load er up in here and we be ready to head on out to the Country Club."

Ray was thankful to do as he was told and load the bag, for it gave Ray a task within the measure of his skills, to complete, and the task kept Ray from fidgeting and dwelling on the notion of Ray, sandwich meat.

During the trip to the Country Club, Robert explained Ray’s duties as Assistant Caddy. “Mostly ye just do whut yer told. Fetch this, tote that. Then if one of the gentlemen hits a ball off in the brush, ye may have to search fer that ball. But whut I do is carry an extry ball er two in my pockets. So then I can search around a bit, but if I caint find that particular ball off in the brush, I have another one, handy.”

Soon Ray found himself on the links with Robert, his daddy and three of his daddy’s business friends and Ray fetched this and toted that as directed, and Ray also counted holes played through 18 and during all this sporting around the links, Ray acquired a nugget of valuable information from Robert. Boys were allowed to dive into the links water holes for golf balls, and these same golf balls, once retrieved , commanded the sum of two bits at the Pro Shop.

“Whoa” thought Ray, “two bits is a princely sum.”

At the end of play on the 18th hole, Ray’s daddy, as he had promised, took Ray aside and expounded to Ray, much in the manner of a father to a son, and indeed such was the mood of Ray’s daddy that he hugged Ray to him and put his arm around Ray’s shoulders as Ray’s daddy expounded thus, “Ray, I have thought of a way that you may have sexual intercourse with Olwen, daughter of Upyeraholes. You Ray, are by virtue of your birth, first cousin to Kinglet George. Kinglet George will assist you to win Olwen away from Upyeraholes if you can make a good impression on him, for he is duty bound to help all his first cousins. Of course, you will have to marry Olwen, once you dispose of Upyeraholes with Kinglet George’s assistance, before you can have sexual intercourse, with her. Tomorrow I will have Robert and those other minions of mine that I deem fit, outfit you, Ray, for your journey to the palace of Kinglet George, where I am certain you will make a great impression.”

“Ha! Thanks Daddy. I’m so excited.” And indeed, Ray was so excited that he chattered excitedly all the way back to the big house, and Robert, his motoring companion, could scarcely get a word in, edgewise.

Sedge Buster Lesson 5 Cyperus, diminutives

Jeez Louise! Even Ovates can have a bad day. And today was a rotten weenie, fer sure. But there's always hope. Anyway, I have sufficiently recovered, much abetted by a delicious supper, so here's a sedge buster. The sedge du jour is Cyperus difformis. The specimen is from Travis County, October 17, 1995. C. difformis s an alien, maybe, that was discovered abiding in Texas by the famous naturalist, W.R. Carr, back in the early 80s. Prior to that, nobody knew it was here in these parts.

As can be seen nearby, maybe, this un is best appreciated under the microscope. Those scales are under one millimeter in length. See the purty maroon splotches on the scales. As ye may know, maroon is one of the Texas Aggie colors and a secret Aggie ritual is associated with this particular sedge on account of its white and maroon scales. But just like the Secret Aggie **** Wag, I can't spell about it, because it's associated with a very secretive Texas Aggie ritual.

Where the achenes and scales have fallen off, ye can espy the rachis, or rachilla if ye prefer that spell, upon which the achenes and scales were formerly attached. And if ye look carefully, ye may espy the wings. Also, up at the top of the picture, there's an achene, dissected out.

Anon, I may spell about today's many adventures. But maybe not. Whew! Telescopery adventures, Mall Wart adventures, dead car battery adventures, too many adventures. Plus I like to froze to death. Here tis the middle of "I am Cotton fer Spit Month" and my dang toes lost ciruculation fer hours.
_____

Crum-bee. You have a let-ter.

Now whut! Whut's this?
_____

Dear Mr. Ovate,

We at the American Museum of Unnatural History (AMUnH) are pleased to inform you that we are sending a team of our most famous scientists to Red's Good Vs. Evil Cow Barn for the purpose of investigating your claims regarding the bone of a rattite, that you have put forward as evidence for your lineal descent from no less a figment than one Jesus of Nazareth, the very same Jesus that many Christians believe is a sungod, or perhaps the sungod.

Our team will be arriving in Austin on March 28. The plane will arrive during afternoon rush hour that day and we expect that our scientists will require a ride provided by you from the airport to the Cow Barn. Also, please expect to interrupt your, no doubt, busy schedule so that we may consult with you at some length with regard to this interesting artifact. We also assume that you will provide accomodations and a plenitude of delicious Texas style food and other diversions and entertainments in accordance with your customs and morals.

See you soon,

Dr. Moreau and All the Members of the Rattite Bone Investigative Team (RBIT)

P.S. You may recognize us at the airport for we will be in a group, all similarly attired in red shirts and britches plus white belts and shoes and straw cowboy hats. In addition, I am renownedly big and fat.
_____

Sigh!

Ray's Thought for the Day

Dern it. Oh well. Red's makin' me do the regular work today on acccount of events have unraveled. Hope's busy, Crumby's busy. The LDR's always busy.

So, did ye know that if ye have a rich and powerful uncle or some such, he may hep ye attain whatever yer after. But he may want to hep more than ye want. But maybe not. Maybe he would just hep the right amount ye requirel Bein' an orphan without known kith er kin, I, Ray don't have experience of this phenomena first hand, but I heard stories.

Hope spells we may have as many as eight baby Strepanthus bracteatus apparent fer the nonce.

All else is unraveled and a northern blew in at 2:30 in the mornin', trappin' Lomo and Crumby in the shed out in the east pasture where they spent an uncomfortable and grumpy night.

Fer the nonce,

Ray

Sedge Buster Part 2 Cyperus Lesson 4 - wings

Yikes! I am only into to the b sheets and already I have respelled and respelled again due to all the taxonomic changes since these sheets were last examined. For example, Cyperus brevifolius is now Kyllangia brevifolia. However, I can assure everyone that the specimens have not changed, only their names.

This lesson is about flat sedge wings. Flat sedge wings are usually hyaline (means translucent) little appendages that attach at one end on the proximal (lower) end of a scale and the other end is attached to the rachilla of the spikelet. The rachilla is the little stem that all the florets are attached to. Functionally, one might wish to think of flat sedge wings as hemi-peryginia, for they partially enfold the achene. Not all flat sedges have wings. But some do. So wings are an important key character.

The wing you see in the photo belongs to Cyperus compressus, another cosmopolitan, annual Cyperus. See the little short fat achene. Short fat achenes are characteristic of this particular flat sedge.

Sedge Buster Part 2 Lesson 3

Whoa! While going through the sheets, starting with a, I came upon several spelled Cyperus aristatus. But then I did some checking and found that Cyperus aristatus is now spelled Cyperus squarrosus. But then I checked some more, and in C&Js key, where both are included, there are major differences spelled. To whit, aristatus has one stamen and no wings on the rachilla while squarrosus has three stamens and is winged. Furthermore, aristatus is an annual and squarrosus is a perennnial. Whut happened to the squarrosus specimens with these characters? Alas, I lack the means of solving that riddle without leaving the relative safety of the CB.

By the way, counting flat sedge stamens can be onerous because depending on the maturity of the specimen, the stamens may have disappeared. So its' best to get a younger plant if you intend on counting the stamens. Also, stamens in flat sedges are generally very small so you will definitely need a microscope if you want to count them.

So here is a picture of what is now called C. squarrosus. Featured is one cluster of florets. A half dozen of those florets have one stamen each. I like this one because of the interesting, sharply reflexed scale tips. Its distrubution is cosmopolitan, so you are apt to find it, anywhere.

Hope for Ray

My goodness gracious. We are but a mere 72 hours into the month of "I am Cotton for Spit and the CB Tree is Two Aesuclus Species" yet we have 2.3 tics of precipitation, already. Ha! The trees get a drink, untainted, or untainted as may be in these evil times. And everyone said Ray's satire was excessively crude. Ha! But Hope Remains.

Oh my goodness. Here's something from Red. Yikes! This does indeed go against my grain and I spell it here, unenthusiastically.

Red spells, "What has passed for democracy in these Yorentied States is dead as a tire iron. Ferget it and go on to somethin' else."

And finally, Rayetta, the LDR that is, has contacted a number of famous museums regarding the subtopic "authenticity of ancient rattite bone".
_____

Goodness gracious. Look who's here. Hello Crumby.

Lemme see that. Uh oh.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 6

Ray was exercised, mentally. But all he could think about was having sexual intercourse with Olwen, daughter of Upyeraholes, Chief Justice. “Where does she live? What does she look like? Will she want to have sexual intercourse with me?” Will her daddy, Upyeraholes, Chief Justice, mind if I have sexual intercourse with his daughter?” With these and many other similar thoughts, Ray exercised himself, mentally. But Ray was only three years old, so he was having a hard time answering these questions. Nor could he frame these and many similar questions regarding the subtopic, sexual intercourse with Olwen daughter of Upyeraholes, Chief Justice, within a context indicative of a course of action. So Ray determined that he needed some hep, advice that is, on how to proceed to a course of action that he might obtain sexual intercourse with Olwen.

“Whom might I query? Whom might I query? Whom might I query? I know! I’ll ask my daddy.”

So, exercising himself mentally, Ray scheduled an appointment with his very busy daddy.

Luckily for Ray, his daddy would see him anon, and Ray would get to go along to the country club on the morrow, in the post bright and early, in the important capacity of, assistant caddy. But for the balance of that day, and the long night also, Ray continued to exercise himself mentally on this one subtopic, sexual intercourse with Olwen, for he was intensely focused. But as the night wore on, Rays’ mental exercise began to exhaust him, and as if by accident he discovered an interesting physical exercise, that with repeated practice, conked Ray out . And Ray lay supine upon the Bosom of the Goddess for the nonce of that particular stygian, yet starry night.

Sedge Buster Part 2 - Cyperus - Lesson 2

All righty then sedge busters. This is an important lesson. But aren't they all? However, this one features the most common flat sedge in these parts, Cyperus odoratus. This is the one in all the Cyperus keys where the spikelet disarticulates into its several florets at maturity. But the problem is, how could you ever see this. If its not mature, it won't be disarticualting. And if it is mature, the parts will be gone. So whut the heck is a sedge buster to do. Ha! The Crumby Ovate is here to save the day, pictorially. Plus, if ye pay attention, ye will always be able to sight identify this very common flat sedge in the field. But if ye don't pay attention, this one will appear to ye much like many of the rest of them, and ye will collect it, again and again and again, etc.

So. Here we have a picture somewhere with several parts labeled. There's an achene depicted for one thing. Note: To get at flat sedge achenes, all you have to do is pull down on its scale, and if there's an achene under the scale, ye shall assuredly espy it directly, for flat sedges have no peryginia surronding the achene. Alas, though, many of the scales will be infertile and lack any achene at all.

Now please direct yer visage to the floret node spell. The lines go to two nodes. These are hardened protuberances on the spikelet rachis. You can see these in the field and no other flat sedge ye are likely to encounter has these big hardened nodes. So if you see these nodes, you will know it's Cyperus odoratus. Those nodes are where the spikelet falls apart.

Ah yes. C. odoratus is typical of most of the Cyperus in that it sports more or less trigonous achenes with three stigmas on the style.

Yahoo! Uh oh! It's the fair Rayetta come to visit perchance.

Crumby, may I see your rattite bone?

No! Only the holiest of us holies can handle that particular bone without bursting into flame.

I don't wish to handle it Crumby, I just wish to gaze upon it from a safe distance.

Er. All righty then. But ye cain't touch it.

Hmmm. Why does it smell like magic marker?

No it don't.

How would you know whether it does or not Crumby? You can't smell anything ever.

I can too smell, sometimes.

Hardly ever, and this smells like magic marker, to me.

Well it's not magic marker. Obviously, Jesus didn't have any magic markers.

He didn't? Well what in the world do you think he wrote the message with Crumby?

Er. He probably used squid ink.

Squid ink! Are there squids in the Sea of Galilee, do you think, Crumby?

Yes Rayetta. There are, maybe. Er, probably they used to be there, but now they have gone extinct in those parts, maybe. The Simites may have et them all.

Hmmm. Interesting. Well I am sure that this rattite bone proves you are a living relative of Jesus. Thank you for allowing me to gaze upon this marvelous bone. Bye.

Uh oh.

Blogger caint upload my sedge buster pictures

This venue remains disfunctional for uploads. So sedge buster is dead in the water. Dang! Those florets are hermaphrodites.

All righty then. It just started workin' agin a minute ago. So the hermaphrodite pictures are loaded for March 18, below.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 5

In order to get the new wife he wanted, Ray’s potential dad and Jezebel’s former widower had to murder his new wife’s husband prior to marrying. This accomplished the two were married amid low key ceremony. And the new wife set about discovering what circumstances she found herself in. Not finding anyone about the house very helpful in terms of information, and her new husband not much forthcoming on same topics, she ventured about seeking information regarding those same circumstances. Thus anon one fine day, out and about shopping, but alert for information pertinent to her new circumstances, the new wife chanced to espy an old crone soiling the sidewalk outside one of her favorite accouterment shops. “Old crone,” she inquired, speak of mine husband and the circumstances I find myself disposed therein.”

“All righty then,” allowed the old crone. “Yer new husband is rich and powerful. Also he is high and mighty among the liars and gluttons due to the circumstances of his birth. And he has a son, maybe.”

“A son,” exclaimed the new wife, “I must discover more of this son. Where is this son disposed old crone, and why have I not heard tales of him?”

“They say the son is named Ray. But Ray is put off somewheres because he is apparently of unusual happenstance and a freak of nature, to boot.”

“Hmmm. Thank you old crone. Here’s a penny for your thoughts,” and then the new wife clickety-clicked on her high heels off to her Cadillac, resolved to meet and greet her step son.

Chances are, so it just so happened that Ray chanced to turn up at the big house at the precise time the new wife also turned her Cadillac into the driveway of the big house. Ray arrived by taxi, the new wife by Cadillac and there she sat honking the horn to gain the attention of the gate keeper so he would let her in. Then while honking, she espied a young man fidgeting in the driveway. “Young man,” she hollered out the window, “get off my property.”

“But this is where I turn up now and again in my wanderings between prep schools. Snuffle. My potential father stays here. Who are ye, snuffle?”, Ray queried.

“Hmmm,” thought the new wife. “This must be Ray.” “Hop in Ray and you can ride in the Cadillac up to the big house with me. I’m your new mother.”

Ray hopped in, to ride in the Cadillac up to the big house with his new mother. And in polite fashion the twain of them, both Ray and his mother, began to discourse.

“Ray, I only this very day discovered that I have acquired you, a step son, as part and parcel of my marriage to your potential father. And here you are of a sudden, turned up. Would you like to have sexual intercourse, with me?”

“Yepper, I would. But I am only three years old, and I don’t know how.”

“Hmmm. Though obviously stunted you do look large for a three year old. But since you don’t know how, I will swear this destiny on you, that you will never have sexual intercourse until you have sexual intercourse with Olwen, daughter of Upyeraholes, Chief Justice.”

“Er, all righty then, snuffle.”

Blogger aint workin

Images can not be loaded. Only text. Aggravating!

Sedge Buster Part 2 -Cyperus -Lesson 1

Rayetta's mad at me. She's jealous because I am descended from Jesus and I got the rattite bone and she didn't. And Ray, my bosom companion is busy making up lies to go in his autobiography. So that leaves me, Crumby, all alone to continue with sedge buster for the nonce. So I just made an executive decision that was much influenced by the disposition of a certain sheet in the herbarium cabinet. This certain sheet happened to be loose, unfoldered as it were, and right on top. So it got picked at random for Lesson 1.

Why my goodness gracious, as the lovely Hope might say, there it is now, off to the east.

The Cyperus are called flat sedges sometimes. Perhaps this is because the spikelets are flat. These spikelets depicted are very flat. Some of them are so flat that when they are turned sidewise, they are invisible even to the eye of the camera. Note that the botanists use a slightly different terminology for Cyperus parts as compared to Carex parts. Each little collection of florets is termed a spikelet. So a spikelet is made of several to many several florets and there are generally a great many spikelets that together make up an infloresence. The spikelets in the picture belong to (Cyperus polystachyos), an interesting flat sedge because it has lenticular achenes. More on the different types of achene in Cyperus, anon.

Anyhow, there are lots of flat sedges in these parts. They grow in wet places, dry places, and one of them, red nutgrass (Cyperus rotundus) can make a pest of itself in your garden. Historically, the Egyptians of yore made paper out of (Cyperus papyrus). Cyperus can be troublsome to sedge busters, for several of them hybridize, producing offspring that are not in the keys. We have a fairly thick folder of these in the CB herbarium titled, Unidentifed Cyperus Folder. A good many of the flat sedges in these parts don't have common names contained within the vocabularies of the ignorant and vulgar, so except for red nutgrass, I, or maybe we if Ray and Rayetta start heppin, won't use common names in this lesson or subsequent lessons.

Whut else? Oh!

Check these out. There's a floret with its parts identified, a mature brown achene, another achene, and yet another achene with its two stigma/style attached.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 4

Ray and Olwen 4

The swineherd kept as close tabs on Jezebel’s grave as his busy schedule would allow and when he couldn’t visit during the growing season, the swineherd would make sure one of his assistant swineherds, one trained up in the correct identification of Apiaceae (Umbelliferae) at early stages of their development would go and visit the grave. Then either the swineherd or one of the assistant swineherds would craftily weed all the carrots. Lo, three growing seasons passed in this fashion, but the cemetery bunch grew aggravated for during the course of the third year they were annoyed by many phone calls and letters and such from Jezebel’s widower’s minions who had been instructed to expedite the finding of a forked carrot on the grave. So finally one day the cemetery bunch decided enough was enough and here’s what they did. They had a meeting. And the head undertaker says, “ We are falling behind on our busy schedules and the stiffs are not getting all the attentions they deserve and the stiffs are not getting stowed as expeditiously as possible and all this is due to the constant pestering of us on account of forked carrots. So what we are going to do is, everyone is going to drop the stiffs they are working on at present and instead, everyone is to go about the countryside and find a forked carrot. Whosoever finds a forked carrot that we may plant on Jezebel’s grave, will receive a nice bonus.”

Then all the minions dropped whatever stiffs they were working on and proceeded to scour the countryside for forked carrots. They searched the farms and markets. They searched the highways and byways. They searched the alleys and refrigerators. But nowhere could they find a forked carrot. Finally though, one of them had an idea, “I bet they have forked carrots at Mall Wart.” So this young lady whose normal duty was painting up the stiffs went to the Mall Wart and sure enough, in the produce section, they had all manner of carrots, including a forked carrot or two. Plus, carrots were on special. So this clever young lady bagged up a forked carrot or two and gleefully made her way back to the mortuary.

“Ha!” She exclaimed upon her arrival, “Here I have a forked carrot or two. What’s my bonus?”

“Give them me.” exclaimed the head undertaker, for he was the one that had been most peppered by expedition requests. Then the head mortician, together with his most trusted stiff planter, a deaf mute hunchback, went out to the grave and planted the twain forked carrots. Now these two, the head mortician and the hunchback, had a special sign language they communicated with so the head mortician signed that the hunchback needed to stay at the grave and guard the forked carrots while he, the head mortician, went back to the mortuary to make a phone call.

Anon, when the hunchback thought everyone had forgotten about him, and it was growing less light, for the sun was setting, the mortician returned to Jezebel’s grave. With the head mortician was a lawyer/land broker and a gun thug and a photographer with a Polaroid. The photographer proceeded to take pictures of the forked carrots on Jezebel’s grave, and every one of the other participants pointing to the forked carrots and grinning at the Polaroid, thus providing photographic evidence of the necessary fulfillment of the pre-condition for Jezebel’s widowers second marriage.

The swineherd, partly concealed in his pickup behind a clump of Ligustrums adorning the cemetery fence line, thought to himself, “Oh well, that’s that.” Then after stowing his binoculars under the seat, the swineherd started the engine, shifted into first, admired the pretty picture on the steering knob and drove off to attend to his swine.

Newflash! Crumby Ovate Claims Descent from Jesus!

Oh no. Oh well. Roll it Lomo.

This is Rayetta Pistrum, the LDR, reporting for the Druid News Service from Red’s Good Vs. Evil Cow Barn where today, Mr.Crumby Ovate is claiming to be descended from Jesus Christ. Mr. Ovate, do you actually have any evidence of any kind that you are a descendant of Jesus of Nazareth, the same Jesus that the Christians put forward as a sungod?

Er, first Rayetta, let me say how pretty you look today. No doubt your nice vacation from the rigors of regular reporting duties has worked wonders, and today, at any rate, and for the nonce, your visage is a lovely one to gaze upon. But you might work on that lipstick, fer some part of it has escaped yer lips.

Jeez Louise! Lomo cut! Red! Must I endure this? Crumby, I am gonna ***CENSORED***.

Now simmer down Rayetta. And yepper , ye do. Fer this will be good practice fer ye, a gettin’ back on the job, so ye may eventually roar back as round chested as ever ye were and go find out what that fatso Chitlin’ is up to at one of his many undisclosed locations.

But Red, this is simply an awful venue. Pretending to interview Crumby, and him standing there smirking, greasily, and getting to smart off as much as he wants.

It be just pretend Rayetta, and I doubt if Crumby will come up with somethin’ yer not apt to run across out yonder. This be good practice, fer ye.

Ohhh. Lala! it. All righty then. Roll it Lomo.

Oh my goodness. Some of my lipstick is displaced. Well isn’t that interesting. Mr. Ovate, would you care to make another off topic comment or two, or alternatively, would you like me to ***CENSORED***.

Whoa! Lomo cut! Dern it Rayetta. Ye need to be barely civil fer this here practice. Now start this here up over agin.

All righty then, Red. I, the LDR shall be barely civil. Roll it Lomo.

Why thank you for that nice compliment Mr. Ovate, and there, I’ll just take a minute to wipe all this lipstick off.

Aaaaaaaaaaaa! Let go of me Rayetta. She’s wipin’ her face on my shirt Red! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Cut! Dang it! All righty then! It’s just whut ye deserve Crumby and ye asked fer it. Start agin. Roll it Lomo.


So, Mr Ovate, what evidence havest thou that thy descent is from the water walker.

Well Rayetta, seriously speaking , I have always felt, you know, holier than thou.

So what. That’s your only evidence? Big deal.

But also, I have an artifact that was given to me by Jesus hisself, circuitously, and circuitously only due to the prolonged interlude between my presence here, versus his presence, here.

I see. You have an artifact that proves you are descended from Jesus that came to you over a great interlude of space and time. How precisely did you discover this artifact?

I found it at work. It mysteriously appeared in my cubicle at work, seemingly out of nowhere.

Um, hmmm. And what precisely is this artifact that has come to you, seemingly out of nowhere, Mr. Ovate?

It is a bone, Rayetta, the bone of a ratite that habitated those parts where Jesus hung out. Those ratites may still habitate there abouts, if they aint all been et up.

All righty then. I’m game for winding this up. Let’s see the bone, Crumby.

Ha! Here ‘tis. Indisputable artifactual proof.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 3

Jezebel was taken to the Ample Bosom of the Goddess three days after Ray’s coming out. Her husband bought her a nice funeral in a swell cemetery for appearances sake. And for perhaps the only time, ever, he intended to keep his word on the forked carrot malarkey, for he was in no hurry to marry up again, and thought to play the field, fer a time. But just in case, the husband paid out a special fee to the cemetery operators. That fee obtained for the husband this extra service; that the cemetery personnel were to seed carrots on Jezebel’s grave and nurture those presumptive carrots, in the hope that one or more of the carrots, if any came up from seed, should be forked.

Meantime, baby Ray grew like a weed. So that by the time he was a week old he was as big a regular seven year old. And by the end of his first year , baby Ray was as a big as he was ever gonna get. He would have got even bigger, faster, but baby Ray found himself in a hostile environment with no one for company but his potential father’s minions. These minions, lawyers, land brokers and gun thugs made baby Ray nervous, so baby Ray developed allergies which caused him to snuffle somewhat, and also baby Ray spent much of his energy on, fidgetin’. But also, in that great big house there were wicked perfumes, artifacts of the many chemical agents rubbed and poured and scrubbed on to everything in the place to kill off the bacterial life that sprouted therein. And these afflicted baby Ray also, and he came to sympathize with the bacteria and made of himself an ally, to them. Finally, and due to baby Ray’s weed-like growth, he spent lots of time at the shoe store getting new shoes and having his feet x-rayed. For in those days, it was customary to x-ray your feet to assure that the bones were properly distributed inside you new shoes. And this may have affected baby Ray too, somehow.

Baby Rays’ snuffling, fidgeting, bacterial sympathies and footgear/sartorial requirements greatly aggravated baby Ray’s potential father and Jezebel’s widower, plus baby Ray’s rapid development was unnatural, inexplicable, embarrassing and a no good topic for casual or business discourse. So baby Ray’s potential father and Jezebel’s widower determined to farm Ray out at the first likely opportunity to, somewhere else; any where else, where the lad would be out of sight, and therefore, usually, out of mind.

Deer are a Lot of Trouble and like Some Other Species, There's Way too Many, of 'Em

Perhaps because they have become human commensals, deer are a lot of trouble. We have lotsa them at the CB. They eat lotsa stuff and tear up lotsa stuff. This last category is mostly the bucks who are forever rubbing themselves on the shrubbery. But all of them can do damage accidentally with all their runnin' and a jumpin'. Actually, I would like to kill every one of them, eat what I could stand, and compost the rest. That's my druthers.

Here's whut we had to do to try and keep em out of the baby btf bed. This may work, maybe. Lomo put a T-Post in the middle of the bed, then him and Ray wired pert near post to post and hung flaggin' everywhere. Now watch one of em jump in there and tear up the bed killin' itself to get out. I Swear by the Goddess if that happens, I'll *****CENSORED*****.

Red Ears

Hmmm

Look Hope. The venue has truncated our picture and we can't see the the baby btfs that almost got trampled on the click blowup.

Well I swan, Rayetta. We just may have to get a new venue. This is becoming more and more, problematic. Lomo could you come check this out, please?

Ummmnn. Lomo fix, maybe.

Lomo aggravated. Done some stuff, but no work still. Lala em. Not our fault.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen cont.

After a while the swineherd tracked down the young lady’s husband who turned out to be a wheel, on track to gettin’ even wheelier, and not a little wheel, either. He, the husband that is, told the swinehered that he would indeed come out to the swine ranch himself to check up on the situation and have a little chat with the young lady, his traipsing wife. Meantime, back at the swinehered’s place, the young lady was somewhat temporarily improved in both her mental and physical conditions. For it is well known that a diet high in pork and pork by-products can cure what ails ye, temporarily. So when the young lady’s husband arrived on the scene the next day of an early afternoon, (he had a pressing golf engagement to play at that morning), the young lady was alert and sitting up in bed, her skin the colors of whole milk, but her cheeks of a rosy hue.

The young lady and her husband then commenced to chat, privately, and the swineherd and his bunch hung around outside the spare bedroom all beclouded by anxiety as to what the disposition in the fortunes of their houseguest should be, anon. From inside the spare bedroom, those outside, the ones with the best hearing and the keenest interest, could just discern wails, gnashing of teeth, hollering, and other indicators of controversial behavior. Ultimately though, after a short while, the young lady’s husband came out and pronounced to the swineherd, and the swineherd’s family and hangers on, that , “I’ll be taking Jezebel home with me shortly, but she wishes to thank you for your hospitality, swineherd, privately, prior to her departure.”

So then the swineherd entered into the spare bedroom where Jezebel was situated. They, the swineherd and Jezebel, shared what pleasantries they could under the circumstances, but then Jezebel turned serious and spelled the swineherd, “Please, please, ye got to hep me. I am indeed returning with my husband to his fine home, but the miracle of my recovery on pork and pork by-products, I know to be illusory. Shortly anon, I shall indeed expire, and I as I have now learned, when I expire The WG shall dispose of me as She see fits. But ere that befalls I shall birth a baby boy and his name shall be Ray. Please, please ease my passing, granting this boon. Keep track of baby Ray and if my husband despoils him, find it your heart to succor little Ray yourself, for I know he will be a good, sweet boy. Now also, I am much a-feared that my husband will re-marry anon, soon as I am tucked in the ground it is likely, so this also I would bid thee do. Visit my grave, or have some of your hangers on visit it, and make sure there are no forked carrots growing thereon, my grave. If you espy a forked carrot thereon, pull it up, expeditiously. And I will spell my husband just short of mine own ending, when he may fell most guilty, that he is not to re-marry until he espies a forked carrot emergent on my grave.”

“All righty then”, agreed the swineherd. “Easy that”. So the bargain of Jezebel and the swineherd was struck and the swineherd or one of his hangers on would check Jezebel’s grave for forked carrots frequently during the carrot growing season once Jezebel was tucked in.

Jezebel and the swineherd then bid a sad farewell and Jezebel hollered out that she was ready to depart. So her husband went to the front door of the swineherd’s house and hollered out to the big Cadillac limo parked in the driveway. But the got no answer for his chauffeur and his gun thug and his lawyer/land broker were inside the Cadillac limo with the motor running and the windows rolled up, and the AC on full blast, and the radio playing. So the husband had to go out and get them to roll down the window so he could instruct them.

“Get in the house and fetch out Jezebel and whatever stuff she has, and let’s get the Hell out of here”. Then his men exited the SUV, to do as they were ordered and the husband entered into the vehicle to await the return of his men with Jezebel, and all were much afflicted by the powerful aroma of swine, which permeated the air in those parts so that all eyes were teary and they held Kleenexes to their noses.

Ray's in the Comfort Station

Rayetta! Ray is in the Men's Comfort Station and won't come out.

Hmmm. Has he done his thought for the day yet, Hope?

No, he hasn't, but I found lotsa notes and pictures in the laboratory, Rayetta.

Hmmm. Ray-ay! Come out of there! You need to do your thought for the day-ay........
Ray!.......Answer me this instant!.................Ray! I'm warnin' ye, buster!

Whut?

Come on out of there and get to work!

I am workin'! I'm gettin' lots accomplished in here.

Oh my goodness gracious Ray, what are you working on in the comfort station?

My biography, Hope. If ye must know, I am working up a biographical sketch of my early years.

Do you have to do that in the comfort station, Ray? Can't you come out?

No. Er, perhaps, I shall come out anon, once I get to a good stoppin' point.

All righty then buster. What about your thought for the day?

You do it Rayetta. The notes and such are in the lab. Er, make Crumby do it.

Triplicate little basturd ophans! Ray! All righty then Ray. You just stick there. Come on Hope. Let's go find Crumby.

Bye Ray. I hope you get something amazing accomplished in the comfort station.
_____

Crumby! Do you want to do Ray's Thought for the Day?

Sight tube.

What?

Sight tube. Must find sight tube. Must find Cheshire.

Jeez Louise. Crumby's a zomby. All righty then. As usual, I the LDR will take up the slack around here. Would you care to accompany me to the lab Hope and assist me with my idiot brother's thought, since you apparently know the disposition of his materials and have a better grasp of his low order thought processes, than do I?

Goodness gracious. Poor Ray locked in the comfort station. Alas, what trauma drove him to such a measure? Well, certainly I shall assist you with his thought, Rayetta.

Hmmmmm. Here we are.

Look Rayetta. Ray has worked up a nice new tree for "I am Cotton fer Spit Month and the CB Tree is Aesculus arguta and Aesculus pavia var. pavia.

Hmmm. My brother's satire can be more than a little crude.

Yes. I inquired of Ray why all the months so far have been given rather, well, nasty, names.

And what did Ray have to spell on that?

Ray spelled that its been nastier than usual in these parts lately, so the calendar names should reflect just how nasty.

Hmmm. Then cotton fer spit must metaphorically represent the dearth of precipitation. All righty then. Let's load up what Ray's got on the new calendar month for the Julian, March 18 - April 14.

All righty then.

Goodness. We have three pictures reflecting the new tree of the month, two Aesculus spp. that we have at the CB. But we only have pictures of A. arguta so far, because A. pavia var. pavia hasn't flowered quite yet. The first picture indicates a raceme of A. arguta flowers. Please note that they are yellow, sort of. Also, these yellow ones were a present from Burford, a while back.

The second picture is of a solitary flower under the CB, Lomo microscope. Please note that the stamens on this complete flower extend very much beyond the petals.

This third picture has a note from Ray attached.

If ye don't like to measure stuff, ye require a line of inquiry other than the botanical. The sepal here is in the neighborhood of six mm.

Oh my goodness. One more thing. The ignorant and vulgar spell these buckeyes.