Ray's Thought for the Day - The Lesser Gold Finches

Also sometimes known in these parts as the least gold faunchers.

Yessiree Bob. The gold faunchers showed up for the first time in DY 1 this morning on Day 226, Praise the Goddess. The annual sunflower seeds are ready, so the gold faunchers came around for a free breakfast. All us CB Druids get really excited by this annual event because the least gold fauncher is our favorite fringillid. Right sis?

That's right Ray. And this year I just managed to get a poor quality documentation picture lacking any artistic merit whatever. That should please Red, but not me, the Lovely Druidess Rayetta. I have come to expect more from myself and my electro-photo tools. That means Crumby has to get another job. I need the upcoming 70-300mm lens with close up capability that is upcoming. So Crumby needs to get another job. Where is that Crumby, Ray? Where is your bosom companion?

Er. The last time I espied Crumby, he was out in the east pasture, postured in deep thought mode.

Hmmm. Perhaps Crumby is thinking about how to get a job that shall pay for my new camera lens. I bet that is just what Crumby is up to, Goddess all righty!

Maybe so, Rayetta.

Meantime, out in the east pasture Crumby is deep in reflective thought.

There I was, a wage slave, afflicted by all the common grievances that afflict the average wage slave. However, due to my various nervous conditions and overall delicacy, I was more afflicted than anyone else among all those other wage slaves, my fellow workers and workerettes. I know that, because I was the only wage slave with a huge boil.

Yep, that was a terrific boil brought on by the conditions of wage slavery at TxDOT, also known as the World's Most Over Funded State Agency. Those conditions made me so nervous I got a boil. That particular boil was located just to the left of my spine almost in the middle of my back. I could just barely reach that boil and I could only espy it by using two mirrors in conjunction.

I kept explaining to Rayetta, Rayetta that boil is getting huge. That boil is hump-back size. I know exactly how that humpback felt at Notre Dame, having almost an identical employment situation as compared to that humpback. You got to lance that boil. I can't reach it.

La de da, Crumby. No way your working condition is comparable to poor Quasimodo's. For instance, you don't get whipped. Anyway, that boil must come to a head before I fix it. Crumby, don't you squeeze that boil. You'll just make it worse.

That boil got bigger and bigger. Plus it started to itch. It itched most at work. So I was constantly on the watch for potential scratching posts at work. It figures, given I was dealing with the approximate same working conditions suffered by the unfortunate Quasimodo, minus the whippings, that scratching posts were a rarity in those parts, and all the best ones were located outside the building on the trees. For Goddess Sakes, I would sometimes be forced to stop work so I could go outside and enjoy a good scratch.

Rayetta got too busy to monitor my boil. Days or maybe months went by with no outside attention paid to my boil. Then one day when I got home from wage slavery, plus that boil itching like crazy, I reached around as far as I could reach. Mercy! I gave it a good squeeze. Mercy! That boil exploded all over the comfort station. I was so ashamed. Plus it took an hour to clean up, after that boil exploded.

Dern it! How can I explain to Rayetta about my boil exploding, maybe prematurely? Well Druids don't lie so I decided to see if Rayetta might forget about my boil. Amazingly, she did forget about it. That should of been the end of that. But of course the Quasimodo-like conditions of labor at TxDOT did not improve one whit. So it was not long before the boil came back, bigger than ever. Mercy!

Rayetta, this boil is big as a pigeon egg. Is it ready yet?

No Crumby. That boil must come to a head. Don't you dare squeeze it. You'll make it worse.

Night after night for maybe a year I queried Rayetta, Is it ready yet? But that boil refused to come to a head. It grew and grew. Eventually that boil reached the approximate dimension of a guinea hen egg. Mercy! I am just like that dern humpback. I'm just exactly the dern same as poor old miserable Quasimodo. Boo-hoo-hoo!

For Goddess Sakes Crumby, stop that whining. Bend over in the light so I can have a look at it. Goodness! That boil is huge. Oh my goodness. It has come to a head. Crumby, go get me some tissues and alcohol.

You have to watch out Rayetta, that boil may be fairly explosive. Maybe a washrag or towel might work better than tissues.

Hmmm. Maybe so Crumby. You better bring along those items as well.

Fortunately fer me, not much of the exploding boil got on Rayetta, only just a little in her hair. Plus she had to work on that boil for several nights or maybe weeks in succession before she got it entirely under control.

Praise the Goddess, with wage slavery behind me, I am boil free.