... you can fill up on purple.
ADDED: Video shows just how many butterflies there were today:
৭ মে, ২০১২
At the Butterfly Café...
... you can fill up on purple.
ADDED: Video shows just how many butterflies there were today:
এতে সদস্যতা:
মন্তব্যগুলি পোস্ট করুন (Atom)
পোস্টগুলি
১৪টি মন্তব্য:
But the gold is also lovely.
We got your thunderstorm down here (poured for a half hour and then steady rain for about 2), but it looks like the sun's come out up there.
Want to offer my congratulations to Lyssa on her wonderful news, also Paddy, who's further along in the process. Hope things go well for both of you.
As for me, my brother in law and I took our sons for a weekend in the great outdoors - i.e. a rustic cabin and some trout fishing. This was the first time all of my boys were old enough. Lots of fun.
The wife was very in favor.
Are those the bulbs that were planted with this knife
(could not let this pass:
wv: tabag nction)
That butterfly's decision to base its escort services outside the MeadeHouse seems to be working pretty darn well.
Deb. yes! Good memory.
The Blonde loves it when the butterflies flutter by.
Yesterday was a big day at the Bushman's. It was the first hummingbird sighting of the year!
The other day I was going to tell of marble shooting here in Kentucky, but got side tracked by Lyssa's good news. So without further delay...Sister Allodia and the marble shooter.
Many people know Kentucky for the Derby just recently ran, the basketball championships just recently won, and the bourbon, just recently drunk. Lesser known is that Kentucky IS the heart and soul of the entire marble shooting world. I know, it's a big boast, but where else do they hold the World Championship Marbles Tournament except here in the beautiful Bluegrass State.
And guys start young, and perfect this fine art till they're stooped with age, and large of thumb.
This story doesn't involve any World Champion marble shooter though. It features Sister Allodia, my home room teacher for second grade, and a young juvenile delinquent named Doug Johnson.
Doug and I were in the same home room at St. Rita's parochial school, and I knew him in passing. During recess, we would play kickball, duck duck goose, and generally horseplay, but we also played marbles. Me not so much, because I wasn't very good but Doug was the class champ.
One day in December during recess, Doug called everyone together to show off his new shooters. They were shiny steel, and twice the size of any marble we had ever seen. All us boys oohed and aahed over, and I know how it's going to sound, Doug’s big balls. It turned out that Doug’s father worked for the railroad, and his new shooters wee really ball bearings from a train wheel.
So my crowd ran off to play hide and seek, and Doug and his crowd commenced to shooting marbles. With his new advantage, Doug cleaned up, and played, and played, and played, till Sister Allodia rang the bell for everyone to come back inside.
Doug grabbed his new loot, and stuffed them into his pocket, and came inside with the rest of us. Being that type of child, he took his seat in the back of the room, in the corner, and importantly, by the radiator.
This was important because Doug’s marvelous steel balls were powerful cold in his pocket. The smaller marble marbles warmed right up but not his steel beauties. So while the Sister wasn't watching, he pulled them out, and set them on the radiator. To warm them up.
The good sister(and all the nuns had to be saints to not kill us hillbillies), decide to give us a test on the Walls of Jericho story, so she passed out the Xerox (remember the smell?) copies the her questions to the students seated in the front rows to pass back. After this was completed we were to silently fill in the blanks while the good sister cruised up and down the aisles like a stately ship, with white and black sails, her sharp nose breaking the surf of the noise a roomful of children will make. A hush would descend in her immediate area, with louder murmurings following in her passage.
This was normal. Except someone had toys, out in the open, on the radiator. This would not stand.
As soon as Sister Allodia had her back turned and cruising in the other direction, Doug, swift as a snake, and sneaky as a cat, grabbed his beauties, and shoved them deep into his pants pocket with nary a whisper of sound to betray him. With the extra sensory senses all children have, WE knew what had happened. Disaster averted.
For just seconds. Because those heavy, dense steel balls had sat on that radiator, sucking up every erg of energy steam heat can generate on a cold December day, in a schoolroom full of children.
And they were in Doug’s pocket. Nestled near his real family jewels, as much as a second grader can have them. I give Doug credit. Many a fool would have suffered in silence rather than break a nuns quiet. But not ol’ Doug. He jumped up, grabbed his balls through his pants, and let out a yell. ”OOOWWWW!!!” echoed through the halls of St. Rita. Sister Allodia whirled like a striking snake, and saw Doug, standing there, holding …something…through the cloth of his crotch.
“Doug Johnson!” she screeched, “What is the meaning of this?”
“Ooohhh Sister” Doug replied with tears in his eyes, “my balls are burning up!”
And that’s why an alumni of St. Ritas Parochial School has never won a World Marbles Championship.
Very beautiful. My regards to the landscape designer.
The camera didn't adjust its focus.. that must be annoying.
To be honest, I don't know what I need a male for
Together, let's break the glass ceiling
Unity seems to be working pretty darn well
Should disorder be renamed
Inspiring completely stupid idiotic people
Only to be swallowed
Along with the dead body
It's dangerous to carry a red flag
Here in Madison, prick
That's how families do it
Victory means the end
Of a 92 year old Goober.
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