Once in a Blue Moon

That's tonight.  We have a blue moon on our hands.  Perhaps this particular blue moon has something to do with the blessed increase in insect diversity at the CB.  Correct.  For better than twain year the insect diverstiy at the CB has pretty much uckedsa. But now, praise the Goddess,  it is better.  Why just yesterday we documented a brand new grasshopper plus this brand new robber fly.  It may be an Asilus sp. although we have pretty much given up on robber fly identification.  Instead of names, they get numbers, like the hippies in the song.

Say!  How about those Booblicans?  Sadly,  due to the Druid ban on bad news, we missed the entire convention.  Oh well.  Do you think, coming out of the convention, that monopoly capitalism and imperialism are still going concerns? 

Dictyonissus gripeus

Think Homop!  That's what Crumby thought, eventually.  Because the anterior part of the greenish thing below looks homopterish.  Which fact eventually led Crumby to the Bugguide guide pages for the Issidae, a family of planthoppers.  Sure enough, one of the issids there depicted features a greenish color and long anal bristles.  So the organism below is Dictyonissus gripeus or something similar. 

Whut the heck?

Crumby is fixing to be able to heft the cameras again.  That means Crumby can wander off into the east pasture, taking peektures of the various vermin.  But the best thing about vermin peektures is the even littler vermin that sometimes show up later, originally unbeknownst to the peekture taker.   Mercy!

Like what is that organism at the end of the leaf tip that may be fixing to get speared by the horrid, predaceous bug.  Watch out!  Uh.  Locomote away! 

Anybody know the Order?  Phylum?

Crumby Lives

OK.  Apparently, Crumby is not fixing to die as a result of his recent quadruple bypass and weeklong torture plus sleep deprivation session.  So maybe, Goddess willing,  we can get back to normal around these parts. 

Already, Crumby has gotten to ride his bicycle thrice.  What a relief that was, to get back in the saddle.

As compared to having your sternum split down the middle.  Yes.  The medical monopoly for a bypass does you like a pulley bone.  Mercy!  Then, you have to rest up after that because you could pulley bone yourself  again if you are not careful.  Like you could pull the staples out.  Maybe, for example. by fixing to start the lawnmower.  Crumby bets many who have had the pulley bone surgery needed to mow the grass as soon as they got home.  Then, fixing to start the lawnmower, those staples got ripped loose.  For Goddess sakes! 

So Crumby is visiting with the surgeon.  All of a sudden the surgeon relates how this fairly young lady got pulley boned by her husband.  They were unloading groceries and the husband tossed her a water melon.  Pulley boned dudette!   It's back to the medical monopoly torture chamber for you.

Hold it.  This story just about has to be allegorical.  You know, like she swallowed a water melon. 

The Great Aphid Plague, 2012

My bosom brother, Crumby, endures.  He may be getting better.  The Goddess, may spare him, for the nonce, or not. 

Meantime, the honeydew drifts down, in a mist from above.  (pardon the Devo ripoff)

That's right.  As many know, these parts have been afflicted with the most honeydew in memory.  Like Crumby was fixing to go out to the trashcan, which we keep outside,  summertime.  It stays outside in the summer because it is malodorous.  But when Crumby arrived at the malodorous trashcan and was fixing to lift the lid, he could not.  That's because Crumby is, no kidding, Doctor's orders, not supposed to get involved with more than five pounds of upper body torque.  And Crumby instantly realized that the honeydew had glued the trashcan lid down.  Plus the manpower required would be more than five pounds to lift the lid.

How pitiful!  Please.  Somebody help me.  Ah caint even lift the lid up sos Ah ken dump my soiled bandaids.

Mercy! 

Anyway.  Here is a poor effort at depicting one of the aphids we are discussing on a pecan leaf. 

Recovery, Maybe

The Crumby Ovate is in recovery, maybe.  He may recover, but he could die just as easily.  Yet a typical Druid like Crumby has no fear of death.  Crumby knows the WG will fold him to Her Bosom.  He has seen it. And what better place to wind up than the Bosom of the WG?

Looking back, Crumby's biggest regret is that he spent his entire life in Texas and Oklahoma except for a few meagre vacations.  (Oh!  Don't leave out the work trips to  Arkansas and Louisiana).  Mercy!  Crumby is certain that he would have been happier some place else.  Like Crumby always wanted to live someplace pretty; someplace with real seasons,  perennial creeks, forests, meadows.  Someplace more than 10 miles from the nearest tourist court, minus the gigwatts of human pollution and redundancy.  But that's not fixing to happen in this lifetime.  Maybe next time, Goddess willing. 

On a less cheerful note,  Crumby is grimly pleased  to espy the environmental perturbations enjoyed by his home region.  People get what they deserve.    And Crumby's advice to Jesus over at the Chamber of Commerce is, Keep those immigrants coming, buddy.  Offer them tax free water.

Interspecific Water Polo

Laid up for a week in hospital, miserable, sore to the bone, uncomfortable, stressed to the max, tortured at frequent, regular intervals, denied sleep or rest of any kind, Crumby turned to the TV for distraction and the feeble hope that life was still worth living. The best TV watching options were, Animal Planet and the Olympics. Although, Crumby did also espy much of the Machine Gun Kelly movie starring the well-known grumpy, tough guy Charles Bronson. What a life saver that was! Don't the hospitals actually monitor the programs shown on their televisions and give them ratings? Geez Louise! That movie could of killed me all by itself.

Well, what else. The basic cable the miserable sick person gets at the hospital is sure to kill many. There are Jesus shows. There are news shows. There are monopoly capitalist shows. There are imperialist shows. Crumby's religion keeps him from viewing any of those. Which leaves Animal Planet and the Olympics.

Actually, the Olympics are full of Jesus, monopoly capitalism and imperialism too, but Crumby discovered that if he watched the Olympics on the Spanish networks, he could only understand a little of the Chamber of Commerce, Jesus as the global banker, bullshit. However, a few of the Olympic events are unwatchable even when boadcast en Espanol. One such is water polo. That's why science needs to hurry up and improve the intelligence of various other creatures before they go extinct so those particular creatures might have enough intelligence to get along better in the world and even have some intelligence left over for water polo at the global level.

How about these matchups!

Team USA vs. Team Steller's Sea Lion

Team USA vs. Team Hippo

Team USA vs. Team Orca  (Oops fans! We need to drain the pool again before we can continue)

Team Pica vs. Team Mountain Beaver

Huh-huh. That would be wild. Then we would also be smart enough by then to have better underwater cameras.

Crumby's Post Op Laig

Crumby Ovate always enjoys featuring major achievements on this venue with the rest of the world or other denizens of the Planet Earth.  The fact is, even a few high-minded aliens may enjoy pictures featuring tops like Crumby's largest bruise, ever.  Here that is.  Crumby's largest bruise,ever.  What''s more,  this particular largest bruise is not even shown in its entirety.

That's Four for the Crumby Ovate

As many know ,  a Druid is  liable to have  a magic number.  Like for example, Crumby's magic number is four.  That's why when Crumby's heart played out, the monopoly capitalist health system operating in these parts decided Crumby needed four new arteries fixing to float blood to his down-hearted heart.  Mercy!

Yet Crumby has temporarily survived that ordeal.  Apart from surviving, Crumby enjoyed a great many interesting hallucinations and/or visits while in hospital.  On  the downside, their were no dogs or other pets.