Arizona White People

The soft-hearted Ark Druid had us delete this post once, considering it too harsh. But now the Ark Druid has relented. So this post is back and socked in.

Monkey shines! Goodness! What’s with Arizona’s white people? They must not have figured out the benefits of almost free labor. Mercy! It’s hard to believe that any white people outside uh, never mind, I was fixing to say I******, (censored by the Ark Druid) could be dumber than Republico Booblicans. Yet there they are, in Arizona. Dumber than the dumbest, dumb shits, dum, dum, dumb. It’s like when you burn yourself on the floor furnace, twice. Mercy!

But that’s OK. Maybe the rank and file are dumber than the leadership. Maybe the leadership was just playing along, knowing that eventually Arizona shall benefit from incredibly cheap labor just like Tejanoland. Yes. Arizonans, you could have an unlimited supply of incredibly cheap labor if only you would shut up.

OK. You know your governor and your miserable senators have no chance to go anywhere except to Hades if they’re lucky. But our governor, lucky licky Ricky, could go all the way. But you Arizona fuckers are not helping. No. The white people of Arizona are not helping lucky licky Ricky go all the way. Instead, you Arziona white people are hurting lucky licky Ricky. Hurting his feelings. Hurting his chances. Yes. You Arizona assholes are fucking up lucky licky Ricky’s chances and hurting his feelings.

Hold it. Lucky licky Ricky may have shot a coyote for you. How about that?

Hmm. Big business Booblicans know just how valuable Mexican slave labor is. But you Arizona white people must have missed class that day. Uh. Do you have schools in Arizona? Surely somebody must have been in attendance. But maybe not.

What is the definition of, Whore of Babylon?

Many have queried, Crumby, what exactly is a Whore of Babylon?

Well. Crumby is happy to answer that query. A Whore of Babylon is a person that will perform any act or service, setting aside the usual notions of decency, and absent any consideration of personal honor, whatever. Yep. Potential common mores and personal honor are irrelevant to the Whore of Babylon. The fact is, your standard Whore of Babylon is entirely unfamiliar with the notion of personal honor. Or, another way of spelling all this is that personal honor does not register with your average Whore of Babylon. Thus, a Whore of Babylon is by definition totally in the service of the Demon Mammon. Mercy!

We have voted Republican for the last time

Many know that the CB endorsed Obama. We even went so far as to purchase some buttons and bumper stickers. We voted for Obama, only to discover later, we had helped elect yet another Republican. Soon as he put Hillary in the cabinet we knew, just another Republican.

So now, as the currents inevitably wash all that oil onto the estuaries of Secesh Land, we are going, Dudas, what were we Druids ever thinking? Why did we vote for another Republican?

Oh well. Maybe now, Palin, Whore of Babylon, can have her oily wildlife served up next to the mashed potatoes, sans butter or gravy.

What happened to the parakeets?

Remember Crumby's monk parakeet buddies? Well. Those particular parakeets are no more. The repsonbible party destroyed their home up on that tower. Now they are all gone. Crumby misses those particular parakeets.

Also, some other responsible party cut down nearly all the poison hemlock, the weed you only eat once. Reckon nobody wants hemlock over at the Farmer's Market. Course, nobody probably knew what it was in the first place. Course they didn't. So now that botanical landmark is gone too. Yet luckily, Ray and Crumby dug up some of that hemlock. Now, a few survivors are safe at the CB. Here's one of the little ones already blooming. Deadly!

Yes. The interesting birds and plants disappear. But the Booblican cocksuckers are mostly still here.

Tomatoes for a Change

Once in while Crumby runs out of rotten bananas. When that happens, Crumby tries out alternative rotten items. He has tried apples, cantaloupes, peaches, plums, oranges, yams and probably additional foodstuffs that he has forgot about. Yet there is no substitute for bananas. Although, tomatoes are second best. Obviously, these brushfeet are enjoying a little tomato.

Whoa! Crumby wishes he had eschewed the Falangist Daily this morning. Big bad Ricky has purportedly shot a coyote. That’s right. Big Ricky must have contacted the newspaper so he could tell the story about how he shot a coyote by himself. Seems like maybe Ricky was out jogging one morning without his security detail when a coyote looked at his daughter’s dog. So Rick charged the coyote while simultaneously whipping out his piece. According to Rick, it was quick, and the coyote hardly suffered at all.

Mercy! This story should help big Rick out with the nature hater vote. Yes. The majority Booblicans hate nature. So naturally, this type story or tale should have widespread appeal securing many a vote for licky Ricky. Especially since little Ricky is afraid of snakes, his reasoning for packing on a jog in the first place. Huh-huh. Too much.

Cuckoo Wasp

If this is a cuckoo wasp, it is the first one of those Crumby ever espied. We’re pretty sure it’s a cuckoo wasp. But it’s very little. Probable cuckoo wasp on Bifora americana.

No need to panic!!!!

That’s right. Since my camera is working as well as ever once again, there is no need to rush out and buy a new camera. No. Now I have some leisure to fret over which new camera is eventually headed to the CB.

Crumby may even have time to await the arrival of a new Olympus dslr which could turn up simultaneously with the replay of Jesus. What if Jesus brought the new Olympus camera back with him from, er, Olympus? That could happen. Olympus is like the same difference as Heaven.

Uh! Does it ever get dark in Heaven? I bet not. I bet Heaven or Olympus is always well lit. That explains a lot about the cameras.

But all that’s in the future now that the camera is fixed. So here’s another picture from yesterday’s bug bonanza on the toothache tree. By the way, the toothache or tickle tongue tree is the finest bug stratum known to the knowledgable. The very finest! Nothing can beat a toothache tree if you happen to be a bug. Nothing, I say!

Man alive and boy howdy. This bug looks much like an ant until you magnify it up to beetle status. For a hundred dollars I can provide some porn shots of these beetles. Euderces reichi

Bird migration or, get me through these parts alive

Yes. It’s that time of year again when literally dozens of neo-tropical migrants fix to trespass across the Republico. Already, the woods are full of two indigo buntings. Also, there may be two chats, chatting. Yet the ventriloquist like qualities of the chat voice could indicate only a solitary chat.

Yes. The mockingbird heralds the great migration, sounding off as chat and chuck will’s widow. In the weed patch, a grasshopper sparrow hops about. Where’s all the dang grasshoppers?

That’s about it so far except for the Nashville warbler that seems to be everywhere.

****Goodness! The Ark Druid just reminded Crumby that sparrows native to Norte America don't hop. They walk.

Whut ye doin' owchere own the highway?

Wewoka

Well where ye a goin'?

Wewoka

Well how ye a gonna git there?

Wewoka

Crumby Needs to Apologize

OK. I should not have compared my camera to a Whore of Babylon at a Tea Party. That was very bad.

Yes. Now my camera is apparently fixed again. The glue that works, in case anybody else needs to glue the mirror back in their dslr, is Loctite Stik’n Seal Original. Not to take any more chances, Crumby let it sit or set for 24 hours. After that though, Crumby took a bunch of pictures. Plus, Crumby toppled over once, simultaneously losing his grip on the camera. The camera took a nose dive, lens first, but only about a one foot drop. The 35mm was on the camera.

Nobody got hurt and the mirror stayed put. But that was another anxious moment in the life of an average amateur photographer.

Oh! The 35mm seems to be working normally again. I reckon a loose mirror inside the camera can goof up the autofocus of that particular lens.

It’s a good thing the camera got fixed because the bugs were just going wild at the CB today. Wild, I tell you. We identified a great many bugs new to us thanks to the wonderful Olympus camera that is now fixed.

This is one of those bugs. Meromacrus acutus

Whoa! Spot metering is great for blown highlights.

The Very Best Wildflower for Texas

Every spring the Falangist Daily runs a few environmental articles featuring wild flowers. That’s because many have liked to go along in the spring in their great vehicles and look at the wildflowers situated on the backslopes of the highways out the car window. Inevitably, given the passage of time, some have whined. There are less wildflowers these days than there used to be. What’s happened to our wildflowers? The public whining is the reason the spring wildflower articles persist.

Well. Maybe the road got widened. And that was that. No more wildflowers at that particular location, ever.

Yepper. Lots of times when the roads get improved they have to like scrape off the adjacent vegetation or park a bull dozer on top of it. Shit like that happens. No more wildflowers, ever.

Then, when they go to reseed that area, by accident or design, alien weeds get in the seed mix. Thus what once appeared as a nice bunch of wildlflowers now appears as a grassy sward. No more wildflowers, ever.

At TxDOT, the world’s most over funded state agency, the responsible parties will explain that the primary business of the department is to build and maintain transportation facilities for the expeditious movement of people and stuff in the direction of progress, or something like that.

Thus, wildflowers on the side of the road is not the highest priority. The fact is, that wildflowers got famous or notorious due to their conspicuous location on the backslopes was an accidental phenomena or perversion of nature. Yes. As many have noted, universal, unrestrained herbivory took care of the wildflowers elsewhere across the Republico. However, the livestock and deer never can effectively eat up all the wildflowers on the backslopes because lots of those hungry herbivores get hit by cars, thus thinning everyone out.

But all that’s a mistake of history that shall be repeated again an again in the Republico until the last native wildflower is inevitably gotten shut of. So what Crumby would really like to discuss with everyone is Sherardia arvensis.

Sherardia arvensis is an introduced European wildflower. It’s just not the sort of wildflower most think of when they image, wild flower. No. Sherardia is not showy. Plus it hardly gets very tall. So it’s perfect for lawns that get mowed real short all the time. But it also deals well with infrequent mowing.

Sherardia used to be rare in these parts. But now, Crumby sees it everywhere. The fact is, we have to pull it up from the CB bar ditch where it persists and even increases despite competition from native plants. If we don’t pull it up, it shall roar out of the bar ditch and get everywhere. Control of a weed like Sherardia, to keep it from going everywhere, requires constant vigilance.

Thus, in a perverse way, Sherardia is a perfect wild flower for the Republico duh Booblico where constant vigilance is an even lower priority than wildflowers on the backslope. Plus, no matter what TxDOT does to the backslope, there shall always be plenty of Sherardia

Crumby has decided, alas.

If you take pictures every day or almost, your camera is like a friend. Like it’s almost like a dog. So it can be hard to give up on your friend or dog. Because your camera may be almost as good a friend as a dog, psychologically considered.

It’s like, how could a real man give up on Nicole Kidman. That’s right. A real man never would. Boo-hoo-hoo.

Sorry. I have always felt really bad for Nicole ever since Tom ran off. I don’t know why.

Though it’s true. Your friend may also be a back stabbing cock sucker totally unlike your loyal dog. That’s how Crumby feels now about his Olympus camera. That’s right. The glue didn’t take and the mirror fell out again. So Crumby had to go to Home Depot to get a different kind of glue. Mercy! That camera is similar to a Whore of Babylon at a Tea Party. Mercy! There are too many of those particular type whores. Too many. Mercy!

It’s like when they have a tea party. And your wife or girlfriend wants to go. And there is only one black dude at the tea party. Yet that one black dude totally makes off with your wife or girl friend. Mercy!

But that’s crazy talk.

Alas. It’s hard to give up on your old friend. Even if it turns out, your old friend is a worthless lying Whore of Babylon no better than those many whores of the twain sexes we commonly espy on the TV news or at Tea Parties. Goodness!

But Crumby has decided, alas. Yes. Mercy! OK.

Crumby could potentially unload his entire Olympus shiteree as follows, maybe.

Both of the old kit lenses combined - $50. The 40-150 is a good copy. The other one, beats me.

The MK1 14-54mm. Good lens, third hand - $200.

The 35mm macro. Probably broke. $30 for scrap or manual focus.

The 70-300mm. Good lens, good copy. $150.

Sigma 150 macro. Hardly auto focuses, but that may be the camera. You have to manually focus to the ballpark. Then auto focus will work. $350.

The E330. $50 for parts assuming home glue session numero dos does not take. Mercy!

FL 36 flash. Hardly used. $75.

Anthrenus verbasci

Merciful Goddess! Want to find out some information on this beetle? Holy Ham Hocks! Just visit a couple of the English bug exterminator sites. Jeez Louise! This species is a major plague over in those parts, merry old England.

Hmm. This may explain why Ray’s undears were always getting chewed up. Maybe it was these here beetles that ate the cotton away from the plastic, thus exposing Ray to chafing events.

Personally, I would never have thought for a hundred dollars that this innocent looking little pollen feeder was a Dermestidae. Goodness gracious sakes alive! Here are a bunch of them on yarrow. They seem to prefer the white flowers like yarrow and Bifora.

Oh! The Ark Druid censored some of my posts for whining. So some of the recent posts are missing. It’s OK.

Update on Olympus E330 - Mirror Fell Off, Again

Whatever many think about Crumby, he is a man of his word, generally speaking. So yesterday after Crumby’s crumby camera broke again, Crumby glued the crumby mirror back on by himself. There are only three things that can go wrong when you glue your mirror back in. You can put it in backwards, upside down, or get it slightly catty wampus. Hold it. Make that four things. You can also dirty it up. Hold it. Make it five things. You can use the wrong kind of glue. Course Olympus, the manufacturer, already used the wrong kind of glue, not only on the dang mirror, but also on the dern rubber grip.

Well. Here is the wretched mirror reinserted. It may be upside down. But then, even if it is upside down, it should still work. It’s just a mirror for Goddess sakes.

Crumby took a test shot or two. No worse than usual, maybe, but a more thorough bunch of tests is indicated. Meanwhile, the 35mm macro has stopped autofocusing. It just zooms out to 1:1 and sticks. Great! Just great!

Moral: Never buy off brand camera equipment.

Olympus E330 - Mirror Fell Off, Again

There Crumby was, fixing to take another picture of a lady bug when suddenly there was nothing to look at in the viewfinder. Nothing. Shit!, Crumby thought. This dang 35mm lens has been acting up lately. It goes to 1:1 and won’t retreat. I reckon its gone to Hades now, totally.

But then when Crumby took the lens off, the mirror fell out of the camera, again.

The first time Crumby accidentally poked the mirror out. But this time it fell out all on its own.

Crumby did not hesitate even long enough to scratch himself. I’ll glue the mofo back on myself, Crumby told everybody.

That’s what Crumby did too. Crumby cleaned the mirror with alcohol, put on some fresh glue and stuck that sucker back in the camera. We shall see, anon.

Otherwise, Crumby would have had to send the camera to California for yet another repair session. Screw that. That’s $200 bucks. That’s 10 sawbucks.

Crumby has had the E330 for over three years and he got it used. Good value. Not likely. So screw that. Plus the dang rubber is always coming off the grip. Crumby has glued all that dern rubber back on three or four times. Screw that.

Man alive! If the workhorse 35mm is lame too, Crumby may chuck all this off brand Olympus camera equipment. A Nikon D90 sounds like the right ticket to Crumby. A 7D would be even better. Fuck this sorry low light, sad autofocus, noisy, aggravation.

Lamb’s Lettuce vs. Corn Salad

In parts of Europe where many of our originals originated, they use a species of Valerianella for a salad green and pot herb. The species thus employed is Valerianella locusta. However did all that come about?

Well. Many moon's ago somebody hollered out. What’s this dern weed good for? Reckon I could eat it?

That’s right. Long ago a miserable peasant was out in the wheat field checking on the potential spring crop. I’m starving, declared the miserable peasant. Hmm. Maybe I could test this here weed out. Where’s my dern sheep? Lamb Chop. Come here, Lamb Chop. There now. That’s a good sheep. Eat some of this here weed. I need to figure out if its safe.

Thus began the long and colorful common name history of the genus Valerianella. Eventually, many of our ancestors came to these shores where, to everyone’s delight, they found lots more Valerianella.

Look at all this corn salad or lamb’s lettuce. Uh oh. This looks like the genuine article, but this here could be another of Satan’s many tricks. Somebody go find a sheep so we can test it out.

Yes. The newly arrived had stumbled upon an important potential green, growing wild in this strange new land, upon which shores they had only just debarked, thanks be to Jesus. The sheep soon confirmed that the particular green under inspection was the work of Jesus, not Satan. Everybody gave thanks and had greens for supper, for which they also gave thanks.

At the CB we have two kinds of Valerianella, country and western. Huh-huh. No, no, no. We have Valerianella amarella and Valerianella radiata, the latter, here depicted next door, far more abundant than the former.

You may think it’s easy to tell one species of New World Valerianella from another. Not in these parts it isn’t. No. Thanks to the key to Valerianella in the Manual of the Vascular Plants of Texas, hardly anybody ever figured out a species of Valerianella by that dudes or dudettes self, duda. Oh! Maybe one guy did, but he’s dead.

Course, since the whole genus is edible, the different species don’t matter anyway. Heck. We can just eat them all.



However, here at the CB, when it comes down to knowledge for knowledge sake the Druids, rise higher than the merely gustatory. Yes. At the CB we have two species that can be separated based on flower size, little versus littler. Well, flower size, plus the bloom sequence of the flowers. Do the flowers in the cymes bloom all together, thus making a showy arrangement?





One thing’s fer sure. This Cerceris is lots harder to get to species than the Valerianella it’s on.

Conium maculatum

You may know Conium maculatum as hemlock or Socrates’ bane. Druids name it, the carrot you only eat once.

Here is depicted sufficient of the carrot you only eat once to poison everyone in these parts.





Yet oddly, the deadly poison has no effect on black swallowtail caterpillars. But what would happen if you ate this caterpillar? Could it be, the caterpillar you only ate once?





Flies really like, the carrot you only eat once. So. Is the nectar, poison? Is the pollen, poison? Could you only eat these flies, once?




Well heck. Ray and me decided, mostly because we like flies and wish to help the flies, that we wanted to try and cultivate, the carrot you only eat once. That’s right. We decided we need to grow some at the CB.

Yet we need to be careful not to eat any. Not even once!

Ah cain’t eat all this!

Crumby promised to keep up with the progress of the red aphids on the verb virgin. Well. They have made plenty of progress. Enough progress to finally get the attention of the dang lady bugs. But there are about a tousand or maybe two tousand aphids for every lady bug larva. This is probably a larva of Cycloneda munda.



Also, here’s an introduced Harmonia axyrides devouring what is probably a leaf beetle larva. Trust me. It ate the whole thing.






These larva, whatever they are, are eating up my tickletongue, for goodness sakes. Don’t know the lady bug sp. shown here, fer sure.






Finally, since we’re into lady bugs, here’s one that may not turn up often in these parts. Coccinella septempunctata

A Big Change at the CB

Hello everybody. It’s me, Ray. Remember all those inner thigh chafing events I used to get afflicted with. Well. Those afflictions are in the past forever. That’s because I have permanently changed the type of undears I wear. That’s right. For 60 years I suffered from those inner thigh chafing events. But no more! No more walking the pastures of plenty bow legged. No more anointment ointment. If I need to ride a mule or pony, no problemo. There shall be peace down yonder fer me from now on.

You may know that inner thigh chafing events occur when the plastic situated in the legs of brief type undears rub your skin raw. Yet with boxers there is no leg plastic. So an average person can’t get rubbed the wrong way in boxers. Plus there is yet another advantage. Boxers can be worn outside in the yard. And unless the spies get close, or employ a type of optical assistance, those boxers can easily pass for shorts so long as the vent stays shut.


Like here we see an anonymous underwear model sporting about in Ray’s undears. Note that the tartan is the actual Pistrum tartan according to Ms. Maria Sanchez, the seamstress that sewed this particular pair up, down El Salvador way.



But now moving forward to current botanical events at the CB. The deer still have not eaten the paint brushes. Here are twain of those paint brushes uneaten. We were wondering if these would retain the lovely white plus red-pink bracts like the parents down in Matagorda County. Yepper, they do.





Boy howdy! We have a false marbleseed bonanza. Check out all these babies. This is but a tithe of all the babies. Praise the Goddess! We need to pot a bunch of these up.

The Bug Collecting Bug

Once in a great while Crumby feels like he needs to collect insects again. You know, as part of his civic duty. After all, so little is known about many bugs that collecting and then turning those dead bugs over to science might make a real difference for you know, like human kind, down the road. You know, duty now, for the future. Why Crumby could even identify the plants or habitat the bugs were fooling around on or in when captured and include all that information with the specimens.

But the benefits potentially accruing to humanity down the road from Crumby’s efforts might not balance out the suffering of Crumby and the miserable bugs or specimens. Like this here moth or muth, for example. Consider this moth, rescued from certain death in a greenhouse, stored in an inflated plastic bag, transferred from the plastic bag to a juice or whiskey glass, having its picture took.

Trouble is, during the process of going from the plastic bag to the whiskey glass one of its legs came off. So in all the other pictures Crumby took of the moth under glass, an unattached leg is laying there in front of the Goddess and everybody. Those pictures with that severed leg lying next to its owner are sickening to contemplate. Too sickening for this venue.

Sickening all right!

You know yourself also that bugs often only appear dead. Crumby has probably already told everyone that would listen about a particular beetle that came back to life after being frozen for weeks, then pinned. There that beetle was, roaming its collection box, wreaking havoc with the other specimens. Mercy! Sickening!

No. Despite whatever benefits that might one day accrue to humanity, Crumby is not fixing to collect any more bugs.

Jerry Patterson - Probable Candy Ass

Yesterday, the Falangist Daily featured Merry Jerry Patterson on the front page. What was Jerry up to? Easy that, Merry Jerry, a Near Penultimate Super Wheel of the Republico, was indicating to the planet, his possession of a 22 caliber magnum that he leg irons to his semi - quasi - sort of - maybe - job. In other words, Jerry, according to the front page story, packs his 22 to the Republico duh Booblico capitol building, in one or the other of his boots.

Get a real job, Merry Jerry!

How come all these Jerry types have state jobs or swell government contracts? Let’s go to a tea party!!! Oooo! I'm crazy with excitement!

Goofy, or what?

Progress

A wee, wee beetle, about 2mm, sashays along in Onosmodium bejariense vestiture.

Can you find the spider?

Are crab spiders like anoles? Or, is there a crab spider for every color flower? Here is a crab spider on Aesculus arguta.





Here is another one on yet another recent introduction to the CB from seed, Amblyolepis setigera. The seed from which this blossom sprang must have been sown like three winters ago. Either that, or it was old seed that got put out after sitting in the house for awhile last winter.

Guess Who?

Guess who? is the interesting game where one person, usually of the opposite sex, sneaks up behind another person, puts his or her hands over the alternative person’s eyes, and hollers out, Guess Who? This may be the fly version of that interesting game, a game, which in humanoids as well as flies may be, uh, like, hmm.

Crumby was fixing to say courtship behavior. But it looks like these flies may have moved on, past courtship to actual fornication.

How does this fly, fly?

Huh-huh. It’s a very bad day for picture taking. The wind is blowing 30mph. The clouds are obscuring the Sunface, but every once in a while, Ogma peeps out. So Crumby is struggling more than usual with his old E330 and Sigma 150mm. Heavy! It’s how an average photographer like Crumby gets photo elbow. Ow!

But documenting these particular flies is more important than usual. That’s because there are so many. Yes. Just on these hollies there are maybe a tousand or possibly two tousand of these little bubble butt soldier flies.

Crumby kept two pictures out of about a tousand or maybe two tousand, this picture and a better one. The reason this one got selected for this venue is because it has the good bubble butt shot. Seriously. How does this fly, fly?


Also, here’s the hairy legged mystery probable dance fly back again. Turns out, in the spring, it’s the probable major pollinator on Nemophila phacelioides. One flower. One fly. Fifty flowers. Fifty flies.

Bee or Wasp!

Is it your bee, or is it your wasp? That’s what Crumby was wondering as he reviewed this picture on his monitor. At first, Crumby figured it was a wasp, maybe a Philanthinae or some other type of dern Sphecidae. But thinking like that got Crumby nowhere. It was a cold trail, a dead end, a shot wad, spilt milk, lost horizon, burnt toast, etc. Yes. Crumby might as well have been cogitating over how much money he had earned from personal honor.

No. Crumby needed a new tack. Crumby needed to consider if maybe this insect was, or is, a bee. Turns out, it is a bee. But it’s a special kind of bee. It is a cleptoparasitic bee of the genus Nomada. Holy Insects! The females of this species lay eggs in the nests of regular bees. Then the larva of these ones eat up the bean bin plus maybe eat the legitimate bee larva. Jeez Louise! There are many perils for Crumby to discover amid the Lilliputian world of Class Insecta.

Dum, Dum, Dum, Dum, Dum, Dum, Dumb

Once in a while Crumby feels bad about scribbles like “Republico duh Booblico”. Goodness! Those crude attempts at making sport of the collective Tejanoland citizenry and its wholescale ignorance of nature, natural processes and science in general sometimes leaves even Crumby feeling low. But just when guilt almost convinces Crumby to stop with the low satire, along comes Travis Gallo of the Wildflower Center.

Yes. Today’s neo-Falangist daily Letters section features an actual photograph of Rapistrum rugosum. (Normally, you would never encounter an actual picture of Rapistrum outside this venue, RGVECB). Part of the picture’s caption; “an invasive species that grows along roads and highways and threatens to overtake our lovely bluebonnets”. Merciful heavens!

Furthermore, according to Mr. Gallo, If something is not done to curtail the invasion of bastard cabbage, we will continue to see fewer and fewer native wildflowers and our roadways will become a monoculture of invasive species.

Hmm. The preferred common name is bastard mustard. Then too, wouldn’t a monoculture involve just one species. Honestly though, compared to what’s out there on the backslopes these days, a monoculture of bastard mustard would be better. Yes. A monocultrue of bastard mustard would be better than a monoculture of KR bluestem. That is, if you are a red admiral and not a cow stampeding upon the backslope.

Hmm. Actually, Crumby is not sure about the cow part. Maybe Rayetta knows if cows eat bastard mustard. But whether they do or not, cows aren’t supposed to stray on to the back slope anyway. Cows on the backslope are a dang traffic hazard.

Yes they are. How many times has Crumby been going along lickety split when suddenly a cow wandered out on the road. Usually it’s not just one cow either. No. Usually it’s a small herd. Those cows may actually stop your progress. And what about deer? Those dern deer are even worse than the dang cows. Why are they worse? Because those dern deer are far more nimble or sprightly than the dang cows.

But to sum up. In these parts, Rapistrum rugosum is a celebrated floristic element. Plus, Rapistrum is widely grown as an ornamental. That’s because my bosom companion, the famous Ray Pistrum was named for Rapistrum. So was Rayetta.

Ha! So unless you want to mess with Druids, hands off the Rapistrum in these parts.

Rapistrum rugosum with lovely native fly attached.








Rapistrum vs. the Bluebonnets

This is exactly what everyone in these parts should be worried about. See those Rapistrums up on that ridge. You need to think of those particular Rapistrums as savage Comanches or maybe Zulus. Then down in the valley are the Bluebonnets. You may wish to think of the Bluebonnets as innocent white people.

Anyway, what could happen unless we do something is the Rapistrums are fixing to swoop down on the innocent Bluebonnets. Yes they shall swoop down and massacre all the innocent Bluebonnets. Mercy! Did you know that Bluebonnets are also known as Lupines? Well, they are.

Everybody Needs Some of This

Widow’s Tears, Tinantia anomala, or many may know it as Commeliniata anamola. Goodness. The husband died. He was worthless. He had nothing but the suit he got planted in. Plus some Chinese made sneakers. His widow cried and cried. But nobody helped her. No. That’s the way shit goes down, in the Republico duh Booblico.

Histrionics aside, this one volunteered, unless Crumby, Red, Ray or Rayetta forgot they put it in. Unlikely that, considering the spot or new location for this plant. Like Crumby, for example, would never have put it so close to a dern tree.

No matter. A super welcome to the CB.

Venus and Mercury Tonight

How many living humans have knowingly espied Mercury during their miserable lifetimes? Crumby knows not. But the total may approach a tousand or maybe two tousand. Course that may be a low estimate, biased by the location of the CB in the Republico. Here, few know of the existence of the planet, Mercury.

Crumby’s Photo Tips

If you don’t know what you are doing as a photographer, then digital is right for you. That’s right. You won’t bankrupt yourself, your family, your kin and all your friends taking pictures in the digital age. Because obviously you can experiment plenty, while wasting nothing much but time.

For example, suppose you wish to isolate a tiny bug subject like this flower bupestrid from its floristic substrate. Here’s what you might do. Set your camera on spot metering and continuous auto focus. Using that simple trick you may easily make it look like your ornery bug is systematically isolated from its environment. See. This bupestrid appears set apart from its natural environment which is the blooms of Allium drummondii. This bupestrid could easily pass for an average Christian, Muslim or Jew, also separated from nature.

Twain Lady Bugs

At this very nonce there are three known lady bug species at the CB. These three are Harmonia axyridis, the most common of the three, plus Cycloneda munda and Hippodamia convergens. Thus far, none of these species has shown the slightest interest in the anarcho-syndicalist colored aphids.

Besides these three species, a fourth species, Olla v-nigrum had its picture taken at the CB last fall. However, Crumby has lost or deleted that picture. So Olla v-nigrum needs to have a new picture.



Cycloneda munda










Hippodamia convergens









An ecological note: The bloom sequence of Ilex at the CB is aquifolium-decidua-vomitoria. There is some overlap with aquifolium just about done and vomitoria commencing yesterday. The insects in general are very fond of Ilex. Very fond.

Uh. The common name for the butterfly is juniper hairstreak. Why do you think that is? Why isn't it the cedar hairstreak? Huh-huh.

Lupines

Lupines for breakfast, lupines for tea, lupines for dinner, lupines for tea again, lupines for supper. Mercy! Remember the Monty Python skit that featured lupines? Mercy!

This here broad-headed bug likes lupines. Crumby also discovered that the family this bug belongs to is comprised mainly of seed eaters, supposedly. Actually, that would be seed suckers, not seed eaters.

This particular bug though is too early for any lupine seeds. Maybe this bug is a scout finding out where all the nice lupine seeds may be sometime in the future. Megalotomus quinquespinosus

Say! Crumby thought quinque meant five. This bug has more than five.

A Druid Easter

Here comes Peter Cottontail, hoppin’ down the bunny trail.
Hippity, hoppity Easter’s on its wa-ay.

What a great song!

I fondly recall my first Easter at the orphanage. There we little orphan bastards labored one early morning, chained to our little desks, each with an onerous task to perform. I was sorting through onion specimens I was supposed to identify and mount before bedtime. Yet suddenly a Great Rabbit appeared before us.

All righty then!, proclaimed the Great Rabbit. I am fixing to release you from your chains. Once I do that, you shall all proceed outdoors in tandem, that is, two by two. The fact is, you are fixing to get to go outside. Yet you all have buddies you are responsible for, especially you Rayetta. You Rayetta, must make sure that Ray, ventures not astray.

Excitement gripped all us child laborers. What the heck was going on? It must be an unscheduled fire drill, many surmised.

As soon as the Giant Rabbit freed us, we all buddied up. Rayetta gripped my hand tightly. Then off we marched in tandem through the dusty, near stygian corridors. The journey was long and arduous.

Yuck Ray! You sure have a sweaty hand.

I can’t hep it Rayetta. I’m nervous.

Suddenly, as we marched forward, making fair progress, I looked up. There, up ahead, was the Great Rabbit silhouetted by Ogma’s fickle gaze. We were almost outside!

All righty then!, proclaimed the Great Rabbit. You children each require a basket. All of you pick up a basket. Do not squabble over a basket. All those baskets are the same difference.

Anon, we were outside, clutching our baskets in one hand, holding on to our buddy with the other hand, squinting in the unaccustomed light of day. As my eyes gradually accustomed to the unaccustomed light of day, I espied that besides the Great Rabbit, there was also a Great Chicken, a Great Serpent and a Great Sea Urchin variously disposed about the pasture facing the porch upon which we all now assembled.

All righty then!, proclaimed the Great Chicken. You are all fixing to enjoy an Easter egg hunt. All of us Great Animals have laid eggs out in the pasture as a special treat for you little orphan bastards, I mean children. All you have to do is run around and find all the eggs. Then, once you find those eggs or ovums, you get to keep them. They are your eggs. Won’t that be fun! Are there any questions?

I had a question. Great Chicken or Hen, please maam, I am afeared that if I venture off the porch that Great Serpent yonder shall certainly get me. Is that Great Serpent a good snake or a bad snake? Ow! Whut did ye pinch me fer, Rayetta?

The Great Chicken answered up for Rayetta. Ray, we are all kindly Great Animals here. We have, all of us, including the Great Serpent, gone to a lot of trouble, ovapositing all over the pasture so you may go find some delicious eggs. Your very smart sister pinched you Ray, because you asked a stupid question. Are there any more questions? No. Good. Then let the hunt begin.

I had some more questions. But all the other children tore off the porch at a great pace. Even Rayetta tore off the porch. Yes. My sweaty hand betrayed me. There I was, all alone on the porch with the Great Rabbit.

Run along Ray. You need to go find some eggs before they are all gone.

Reluctantly I warily departed from the relative safety of the porch. Keeping one eye peeled for the Great Serpent, I ventured on out into the pasture. OK. I need to find an egg. Suddenly I espied an egg. Yet my sweaty hand betrayed me. I could not get a proper grip on that particular egg. Lo and behold, it slipped away and another child stole my egg. Then, seemingly before it began, the hunt was over. All the eggs were found, ensconced in the baskets of the other children, my basket empty, except for a little hay in the bottom.

Yet my torment had only begun.

All righty then!, proclaimed the Great Sea Urchin. Now we shall count the eggs in the baskets to see which child found the most eggs. The child with the most eggs, shall receive a special egg.

Naturally, the results followed a normal curve with Rayetta on one end and me on the tail end.

All righty then! proclaimed the Great Serpent. Rayetta wins the special egg. Everyone give up a great many coyote yips for Rayetta. The children and all the Great Animals yipped for my sister.

What are we to do about Ray!, proclaimed the Great Serpent. Ray found no eggs. His basket is empty. I know, I shall have to eat Ray. Ha! Just kidding Ray.

But it all worked out OK, anon. Rayetta explained it all. All the Great Animals were just faculty members shape-shifted into those particular animals. Plus, Rayetta shared her eggs.

Holy Animal Byproducts!

A recurring message Crumby encounters while perusing his favorite photography website is, “The camera you use, is the one you have with you.” Yes. That message never fails to send Crumby’s mouse scurrying to the nearest exit sign. Good Goddess! Must Crumby constantly be reminded that there are too many people, and most of them are no damn good.

Yet as Crumby sallied forth this morning a camera dangled from his neck. Surely today I shall have this camera with me, and it shall be the one I use, Crumby thought sadly.

And later that proved to be true. But not before Crumby and his little dog, Lulu, were bushwhacked by a marauding Rottweiler.

Don’t worry, he’s friendly.

More proof that most people are no damn good.

Once past the Rottweiler and its responsible pet owners, Crumby headed over toward his objective, a field of crimson clover. You don’t espy crimson clover much in these parts. Matter of fact, previous to now, Crumby never espied crimson clover in Travis County, much less a whole field of it.

Crimson and clover, over and over. Man alive! Was that a great song or what, maybe?

All righty then. Here we are at the crimson clover field. It’s about a half acre totally dominated by crimson clover but with sow thistle and bedstraw also conspicuous. Mercy!




Then right after Crumby took the crimson clover picture, and since he still had the camera with him, Crumby used the same camera to take a picture of these ducks. Why my Goddess! It’s a non-jurisdictional wetland. The only kind of wetland that occurs in the Republico duh Booblico.

Turquoise is Rare in Nature

Rare I tell you. Rare. Yet if any group would have turquoise colored members, that group would be the flies.

Honey childs, at this very nonce, turquoise and black soldiers flies are all over the Ilex decidua. Super cool.

Boy howdy. Ray says, Crumby you ought to set up a step ladder next to the Ilex. That way you could look down on some of the bugs. Plus you could rest your arms on the ladder.

What a great idea that was. Good Goddess! Forget about tripod, monopod, gorillapod and bean bag. Get yourself a step ladder. One thing is, you are so high up the insects probably figure you are just another bug.

Aphids

It is with trepidation that Crumby approaches the topic, aphids. Mercy. Crumby does not even know if these aphids are homops or hemips. That’s how ignorant Crumby is. Yet these aphids sport the colors of anarcho-syndicalism, so they can’t be all bad.

Mercy! Do you know where honeydew comes from? Well! In fact, an average aphid squirts honeydew out its anus. How about that?

The honeydew attracts ants. So when you see an ant trailing an aphid you know what’s going down. See those littler aphids. They were born live last night. Guess where they came from. You guessed it, just like the delicious honeydew, those babies came out of the bigger aphids’ ani or anuses.

This year, inspired by these red and black ones, Crumby has decided to follow the progress of the different aphids that show up at the CB. Funny. In the past we have had yellow aphids and black aphids, but none of these here ones. The plant is Verbesina virginica

Corydalis micrantha seeds

A while back bosom companion Crumby commented on the fumitory seed that just matriculated recently. Well. We took a picture of the seed, necessary to confirm the subspecific or varietal epithet. Turns out our fumitory is Corydalis micrantha Var. or Ssp. australis. You can espy how baby-butt smooth the seeds are. But check out the doily-like chalazal appendages on the seeds. Too cool.

Where's My Insect?

Man alive! It's hard enough to get a humanoid to pay attention to an insect, much less a diminutive plant. That's why at the CB we feel like you need a picture that features both a bug and a plant. Course complimentary features may not always be possible or realistic with every picture. Like in this particular instance.

Man alive! It's easy to forget we have this one at the CB. That's how little it is.

Nevertheless, we at the CB believe, nearly wholeheartedly, that this particular floral element is a stand alone item, even in the absence of a lively insect. The fact is, this particular floral element is super important to some of the smaller types of fairies which can only be espied ephemerally and are super difficult to photograph, when espied. That's right, your average fairy is a poor subject respecting mortal photography because that dern fairy moves too fast and never holds still. Which explains why you could not see the fairy pollinating this particular flower even if there was one. (Sisyrinchium minus)

Busy, Busy, Uh, Busy

There are no potentially busier people in the whole world than old white people. That’s because many old white people can’t or won’t work. So old white people are potentially, plenty busy. Include Crumby who may be at least 80% entirely white.

Goodness! Skipping along, many important holidays are whizzing past or upcoming anon. Somehow, Crumby is unable to address all these significant holidays as they whiz past. Like for example, Ant Day, the most important secular holiday in these parts, came and went with no commentary on this forum from Crumby. Ditto Palm Sunday. Now it’s April Fool’s Day. Goodness Sakes Alive!

Mercy! April Fool’s Day. How can April Fool’s Day be relevant any more? Most of the too many people are no damn good. Consequently, most everybody knows not, truth versus lies. Truth, lies, incomprehensible to most, these days. Buh-huh-huh! Drill, baby, drill! Huh-huh!

In the end, the Druids win.

So Crumby, who has been slacking off on the holiday commentary for the venue, needs to keep up. In that spirit, in that sense of daring do, Crumby is on top of the important upcoming holidays like Bunny or Easter Egg Day, and even before Bunny Day, Free Mustache Ride at the Carnival Day.

That’s right. The carnival is back in these parts. Plus you ladies can head on over to the carnival this Friday and get a free mustache ride. It’s the booth just east of the Farris Wheel.