A great analogy using the spider and fly as the characters.

JamesLordsBlog

The following is a short re-telling of the fable so read it carefully

Come into my web says the spider to the fly, we can talk become friends, oh I will not lie to thee.

Now look around you, can You not see; I can not harm you nor do I have a reason to, your my friend you see.

So come my friend sit and talk relax enjoy and I will do for you all you ask of me. My reward oh do not ask it’s my pleasure don’t you see..

Enter does the foolish fly soon a foot is stuck , worry not my friend it’s for security;take no notice it done for you for your protection.   Come now just relax, enjoy, your safe just look around. But soon another foot, a hand are snared, the fly becomes aware. The Spider now aware his quarry it may fight back just smiles and talks so…

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Don’t Under Estimate the Winking Owl

I have a saying in my house,

“I only Serve the Best Wine. Bring Some.”

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My wine rack now holds several bottles from a winery labeled WINKING OWL. It is a red from Merlot grapes. The wine has a deep red color and a very nice hang time on the glass. The nose is fruity and smacks of oak. The tongue enjoys hints of plums and berries. The finish is smooth. Those of you who are Winking Owl aficionados know what I am speaking of. This evening like most evenings I enjoyed two generous pours of this mellow red. The buzz I enjoy is venerable. During the buzz I write quickly and sometimes incoherently, but I write. Sometimes, I piss people off. Recently a follower left this comment, “you lost a reader with your ignorance.”  Because I read the comment after the Winking Owl had worn off with a good night’s rest, I undertook an analysis of the piece which incited the follower to conclude my ignorance

I touched upon several points in that post. 1.) I likened progressivism to communism, and equated liberals to both. 2.0 ) I cited facts about countries that control guns and confiscated them.  I followed those facts with reports about the effect of the experience on an unarmed population when the government choses to  massacre them. 3.) I offered my opinion about not trusting Obama to do the same in this country. 4.) I very coherently offered a challenge  that I would accept gun control when Hollywood gave up making movies loaded with gun violence.

So where did I go wrong? The facts about governments confiscating guns are true, so I am not ignorant on that point. An opinion is a judgement about something not necessarily based on fact, and the challenge to hollywood is valid. I believe that people commit violent crimes because of conditioning that teaches a disrespect for life from watching too many movies loaded with gun violence. You can argue with me on that one, but unless you can show me facts to the contrary, that’s what I am believing.

That leaves my number one argument which compared Progressivism to Communism. In order to change my mind about that, one would have to argue with solid facts. The progressive mind-set believes in equality for all, and that is the credo for communism too. Besides, I grew up in a family that had relatives directly affected by communism. My mother and father read the letters from their siblings in Europe telling their experiences about communal properties, and the effect of sharing the wealth upon the populace. Those many letters are congruent with Occupy Wall Street and their hatred for the one percent and other leftist cries for the defeat of capitalism. I can see it happening. I also so see a like comparison to the Castro take over of Cuba to the exploits of Obama. These are not ignorances, they are experiences indelibly etched into my psyche.

Anyway, it is my stolid conclusion, made with clarity only possible by consuming copious amounts of Winking Owl, that I am not ignorant, nor was I ignorant in that post. I simply pissed off a liberal, and that folks is the Winking Owl meaning for my life..

2012 Monet Vision in Development

Grumpa Joe is busy developing the 2012 Monet Vision, and is taking a garden walk-about. He will rejoin the community when the cirsium vulgare, cirsium arvense, and terrorist Wabbits are in check.

A Sneak Peek

A sneak peek at the “2012 Monet Vision”

Alien Terrorists Spring Into Action

The offensive has begun. Alien invaders have come out of winter hideouts en masse, and aggressively make forward progress. Not one, but several species have spread rapidly to overtake sleepy residents.  Tribal names like cirsium vulgare, ranunculus abortivus, and oxalis stricta winter in different forms and patiently await the proper daylight to spring from the earth.

Left unchecked, the terrorists overtake desirable citizens to the detriment of the local constabulary.  The military must attack in various ways to setback and control these rugged aliens.

The Constabulary Intelligence Agency (CIA) has surveillance photographs of the culprits along with their locations and numbers.

The CIA Chemical Warfare (CIACW) unit has been summoned to spread the dreaded and deadly glyphosate spray over the cirsium vulgare. CIA Special Operations (CIASO) will attack the ranunculus abortivus, and the oxalis stricta with hand to hand combat.

Without this proactive effort the aliens will overtake the desirable citizenry and hold them hostage throughout the summer.

CIA photos have been released for identification purposes.

Cirsium Vulgare, Bull Thistle

Ranunculus Abortivus, Small Buttercup

Oxalis stricta, Wood sorel

Warning!  If you see any of these Aliens on your  property, SHOOT TO KILL.

Baby Bugs Takes Out the Lobelia

Fictional characters on the Hollywood Walk of Fame

Image via Wikipedia

On Mother’s Day Grumpa Joe’s grandkids spotted a big fat wabbit building a nest under the dwarf pine tree. Grumpa Joe’s grandson Ben looked into his eyes and asked him not to harm the bunny. As tempting as it is to trap the little ba____d, Grumpa can not do it. A promise to a grandson is like a marriage oath. It is not taken lightly.

About two weeks after the wabbit spotting, Grumpa Joe spent a day pulling weeds. He yanked a big one from the base of the dwarf pine. A furry little creäture with long ears jumped out of a small hole, and ran for his life.

Since then, Baby Bugs hops around the garden to different places, always chomping on some greenery. This week, however, Baby Bugs found the Lobelia flowers. His ancestors took out the Lobelia last year in a blatant act of terrorism not seen before in the garden. Is it a wabbit thing, or does Lobelia taste like chicken’?

Today, Grumpa Joe spent a couple of hours building a new wabbit barrier that will be more effective than the 2010 experiment.

The 2011 Monet Vision will not become reality without a streak of royal blue accenting the pond. If this barrier fails, Grumpa will use more drastic measures to convince Baby Bugs to leave the yard.

“Don’t worry Ben, Grumpa won’t hurt him, . . . YET.”

Lobelia, a Basic Color in the 2011 Monet Vision is a favorite of Wabbits

The New Wabbit Barrier Dome

Eighteen Feet of Royal Blue Lobelia Highlights the Pond

The Wabbits Ally With Radical Terrorists

Today is opening day of a new chapter in the Wabbit War. Last year (2010), Grumpa Joe (GJ) battled the Wabbits, and by late August they disappeared from the garden. However, GJ uncovered large amounts of evidence to suggest the Wabbits will return again soon.  Throughout the winter there has been an abundance of snow, and the level of Wabbit tracks in the snow was telling. In addition, early this spring GJ uncovered evidence that the Wabbits devastated his prize Viburnum shrub by clipping all the lower stems, and leaving the naked center branch looking like a torch. Piles of Wabbit scat encircle the Viburnum.

The tulips, a Wabbit favorite, are just beginning to open. Grumpa Joe sits at the window awaiting the first Wabbit attack hoping to prevent needless tulip decapitations.

Late last summer, a new enemy joined the Wabbit Wars; Cirsium arvense(Canadian thistle). This new enemy employs radical terrorist techniques. He attacks by popping up in the middle of a dense lawn or flower bed. By the time he is sighted he has sent combatant runners  spreading around the yard to establish more sleeper cells. The mower is one of the primary forces GJ used to combat them in the lawn. The whirling blade whacks the Cirsium; wounding, but also infuriating him. The warrior returns stronger than before. During his recovery he dispatches several young roots burrowing underground to establish new cells. Within a week, the cells begin to pop up along a line extending from the wounded warrior.

In the flower beds, the Cirsium arvense terrorists work under cover of foliage to grow and strengthen. By the time GJ spies evidence of their presence, they are fully established and towering over the flowers held hostage to hide their activity. They send copious numbers of sleeper cells running in many directions. They sleep underground until ready to attack then spring up everywhere within ten feet of origin.

Several times, GJ attacked them with the digger tool, and even a spade. Pulling  out runners, and following them to new cells. Often, he pulled up two feet of roots with green shoots that had sprouted along the runner. If a single small piece of the root breaks off during removal, it survives to become a new sleeper cell. The Cirsium reestablishes itself, and within a week new sleeper cells are terrorizing the flower bed.

Grumpa Joe attended a late fall conference of Master Gardener Generals to discuss the Cirsium terrorists. The generals instructed GJ to rid the Cirsium arvense with the dreaded garden nemesis; Roundup. In the early spring, GJ would have to drench the fresh young shoots with this chemical killer of broad leaf vegetation. The chemical works by absorbing into the foliage and traveling into the root system.

This afternoon at 13:00 hours, Grumpa Joe dressed in full chemical battle garb. He loaded his sprayer with the prescribed ratio of concentrate and water. He pumped the tank sixty times to pressurize the nozzle, and forged into battle. By 14:30 hours all visible Cirsium terrorists were drenched in chemical.

By 13:00 hours tomorrow, Grumpa Joe will know if his attack affected the Cirsium army.  He will sorrow over the many innocent garden plants he has killed. What he will not know is this; has he merely sent the Cirsium arvense Terrorists underground to form new sleeper cells?

The Gift (A serial, part 5)

The Gift (A serial, Part 5)

The scoot home took a long time because the Covert farm was a long way from the town where Morty lived. He deliberately kept Skye out of hyper-drive, and drove slowly to keep the little tree from tearing off. They talked as he drove. Connie told him about when he was a seed, and grew quickly into a sapling. Farmer Jim re-planted him into the field where his great, great, great, great-grandfather grew up. He survived a drought, the heat of summer, and cold winters. When it snowed, his limbs sagged to the ground.

Connie’s favorite job was to host families of birds. The cardinals and chickadees picked his boughs to build their nests. They collected material from all over the farm. Red Cardinal, and his wife Rosy made hundreds of trips to the tree. Red brought pieces thread, and tiny twigs, one by one, and Rosy wove them into place. She went to the pond to make mud to hold it all together. They picked a spot about half way up Connie’s trunk in a spot that hid the nest from view.

Connie told Morty how he loved to watch the cardinals flying back and forth to feed their babies. The babies slept between meals. They chirped loudly when their parents came with food. Once a cat came into the field near Connie. Rosy covered the nest with her body, and spread her wings to hide her chicks.

Red buzzed the cat to get its attention away from the babies. Connie dropped his boughs over the nest to give the birds more protection. They all sat very still while the cat was there. All the trees in the field watched in deadly silence as the cat stalked with his head low, and his shoulders in a hunting crouch. After what seemed like an eternity of stillness and quiet, the cat finally wandered off in another direction.

Morty arrived home after dark. He untied Connie’s branches and set him upright into a bucket of water.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “I will place you into a tree stand, and dress you for the birthday party. Now it is time for all of us to rest.”

To be continued. . . .

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