The Gift-Part 5-Reminiscing

The Gift-Part 5-Reminiscing

The scoot home took a long time, and Morty deliberately kept Skye out of hyper-drive. He drove slowly to keep the little tree from tearing off. They talked as he drove.

“The farmer planted me as a seed eight years ago. I became a sapling quickly, and was transplanted into a new field.”

Connie jabbered away as Morty drove.

“Farmer Jim re-planted me again when I reached sapling stage. He put me into the field where his great, great, great, great-grandfather grew up. I went thirsty during the drought, and the hot summer nearly fried my needles. I liked winter best. I loved when the snow covered my boughs and they drooped to the ground.”

“I’ve been a Guardian Angel since the beginning of time,” said Morty. “My duty is to watch over Brad. I love watching kids the best.”

“My favorite job is to take care of birds. The cardinals and chickadees picked me this year. They built their nests deep in my boughs to hide it from predators.  I couldn’t believe how many trips they made with string, and twigs from all over the farm. Red Cardinal and his wife Rosy brought the pieces one by one. Rosy wove them into place, and pasted it all together with mud from the pond.”

“I loved to watch the Cardinals fly back and forth to feed their babies. They slept between meals, but made a lot of noise when they woke up. The kids chirped loudly until a parent came with food. One day, a cat came into my field. Rosy covered the nest with her body, and spread her wings to hide them. Red buzzed the cats’ ears to get his attention away from the babies. I dropped my boughs over the nest to give them more protection. Everything became very still while the cat was there. All the trees around me watched him stalk; his head was low, and his shoulders in a crouch. After what seemed like an eternity of stillness, the cat finally wandered off.”

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 . . .

Will We Keep Cleaning Up the Poop?

A couple of years ago, I received an inspiration to write an essay about my experience with gardening and conservatism. I called it “How the Garden Has Taught Me Conservatism.” I struggled with the concept that I envisioned. The piece turned out fair. Below is a piece from an e-mail that tells the same idea but with humor and precision. The story comes from Maxine, a famous cartoon character who is known for her outspoken manner. She calls a spade, a spade. Maxine did it again in this piece called “Its Time to Take Down the Bird Feeder.”

editor’s note: 2 October 2013. According to Snopes, this is not attributed to Maxine in any way. Although GrumpaJoesPlace does not knowingly post erroneous stuff like attributing Maxine to  “Its Time to Take Down the Bird Feeder,” this error fell between the cracks. Grumpa  Joe nonetheless finds the piece hilarious and has left it intact with an apology for posting something that is not correct.

Maxine Speaks

I bought a bird feeder. I hung  It on my back porch and filled it with seed. What a beauty of a bird feeder it was, as I filled it, lovingly with seed. Within a week we  had hundreds of  birds taking advantage of the continuous flow of free and easily accessible food. But then the birds started building nests in the boards of the patio, above the table,And next to the barbecue.  Then came the poop. It was everywhere: on the patio tile, the chairs, the table … everywhere! Then some of the birds turned mean. They would dive bomb me and try to peck me even though I had fed them out of my own pocket. And others birds were boisterous and loud. They sat on the feeder and squawked and screamed at all hours of the day and night, and demanded that I fill it when it got low on food. After a while, I couldn’t even sit on my own back porch anymore. So I took down the bird feeder and in three days the birds were gone. I cleaned up their mess and took down the many nests they had built all over the patio. Soon, the back yard was like it used to be ….. Quiet, serene…. and no one demanding their rights to a free meal. 

Now let’s see, our government gives out free food, subsidized housing, free medical care and free education, and allows anyone born here to be an automatic citizen. Then the illegal’s came by the tens of thousands. Suddenly Our taxes went up to pay for free services; small apartments are housing 5 families; you have to wait 6 hours to be seen by an emergency room doctor; your child’s second grade class is behind other schools because over half the class doesn’t speak English. Corn Flakes now come in a bilingual box; I have to ‘press one ‘ to hear my bank talk to me in English, and people waving flags other than ‘Old Glory’ are squawking and screaming in the streets, demanding more rights and free liberties.

Just my opinion, but maybe it’s time for the government to take down the bird feeder. 

If you agree, pass it on; if not, just continue cleaning up the poop.

CATALOG CHICKS

Grumpa Joe loves chickin’. He likes it roasted, broasted, grilled, fried, cooked in soup, and diced into a salad. All his life he had chickens to eat. His mom raised chickens for many years in the backyard coop.  She stopped when she finally discovered that it was cheaper, and easier, to buy a fresh chicken from the chicken store.  Until then, she raised chickens for our consumption.

Every spring, in March, the mail man arrived with a large, flat, box with holes all around the sides. The box made noise because inside there were two dozen newly hatched chicks ordered from the Sears catalog.

 

The chicks, squeezed into the box, were yellow, and furry. They hatched just a few days earlier. The cute fuzzy cheepers were fun to watch.  Outside, the temperature was still too cold to put the chicks into the coop, so Mom kept them in the house.

She got a large cardboard box with tall sides from the store, lined it with newspaper, then took it upstairs to my brother Will’s bedroom. The chick’s new home was near the window, and next to the heat vent.  Mom put a watering dish into the box with a feed tray.  She fed them finely chopped, boiled eggs. Figure that one out, which came first?

To keep them warm, she placed a light bulb over the box to give them more heat and light. As the chicks grew, she switched their diet to chicken feed. In a couple of weeks, the chicks doubled in size, and began to get their feathers.

When the weather got warmer, Mom moved them outside to the coop. There, they grew up to provide us with eggs. Eventually, they made it to our Sunday dinner table; yum, yum, yum.

Give Larry the Bird

The BirdThe latest joke in front of Congress is the request to bailout the porn industry. Larry Flynt, publisher of a dirt rag called Hustler is requesting money. He is making a claim that the people of the USA and the World need porn to soothe the woes caused by the economic downturn. Somehow with the population of the earth at 6.8 billion and growing, I just can’t beleive we need porn to make it happen.

I sincerely hope our representatives in government will be wise enough to send Larry home with the bird.

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