My Family
Adela (Mi Novia)
My Limey Gal
Grassy Knoll
My Brother Wolf
Phil
The Moomin
Libertine
Previous Posts
The Reichstag Act Revisited.
Bulletin
False propaganda, to be truly effective, Has to exist in an environment In which there are no alternatives to contradict it. Otherwise, it can be seen for the lie that it is.
"Who denounced you?" said Winston. "It was my little daughter," said Parsons with a sort of doleful pride. "She listened at the keyhole. Heard what I was saying and nipped off to the patrols the very next day." George Orwell (from 1984)
"I can't blame Crystal for doing what she did. She told the truth when questioned by the authorities. That's what I've always taught her to do." Mother of DARE student Crystal Grendell after being arrested in a drug raid based on information provided by Crystal to her DARE officer. (Wall Street Journal. April 1992)
"He's my son and I love him. He found it [marijuana] and did what he had to do." Jerry Herrera, father of DARE student Jouquin Herrera who tipped off police. (Rocky Mountain News, September 1991)
"If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their money, first by inflation and then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around them (the banks), will deprive the people of their property until their children will wake up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered." - Thomas Jefferson
Today me and my partner was cutting down what we in the tree business call a danger tree.
A danger tree is exactly that. It is a tree that is in need of immediate attention, or somebody or something is going to get hurt, killed, or damaged.
I gaffed up it, taking limbs and re-rigging lines as I went. My partner was watching the top and giving me a play by play on each of my moves so I did not wind up dead, or worse.
When I got to the top and rigged our pulling line so that we could control the fall I heard a buzzing sound.
I told my partner I thought we had bees in this tree and to toss me another line so I could disconnect from the main trunk, and have something to swing free out of the tree on, just in case an angry bunch of bees decided to jump my ass.
I started cutting large chunks off of this tree and gaffed on down without incident.
Back on the ground, my partner started giving me a hard time about how I must be old and imagining things.
My partner took our big saw and started in cutting the big wood while his wife and I took the small saws to handle the brush and limbs.
A little while later my partner dropped the saw and took off running, hollering BEES, BEES, BEES!
His wife looked over at me and asked why was he hollering please?
I said he wasn't. . .he was hollering BEES!
She said "oh...okay" and we kept cutting.
He said we was cold hearted assholes for not even stopping to see if he was okay.
She said it was part of the job.
I just laughed.
He went back to the truck to get the stingers out of his face.
After a while his wife and I decided we wanted some of that honeycomb so we ambled on over to the portion of the trunk that had the bees.
We built a little fire out of leaves and whatever other stuff we could find that would make a lot of smoke. I took the big saw and commenced cutting my way into that bee log while she fanned smoke on me and the log.
It wasn't long before we had the honeycomb exposed and we were like two kids in a candy store. We were pulling chunks out and eating that fresh wild honey like crazy. Partner came back in a little while and joined in. A few neighborhood kids saw us and asked what we was doing, so we told them and offered them some of it. They acted disgusted, and said "real" honey came from jars in the supermarket. This kind of made us sad.
We put the rest of the comb in our cooler and after we got home we cut it up and put it into some gallon jars partner's wife had stored in her basement. All told we got three and a half gallons of some of the best tasting honey you have ever had. It ain't none of that tasteless stuff you get down at the local supermarket. This is the real thing. It makes you shiver at how sweet it is.
I always feel a bit sad about cutting a bee tree down. It kills a vibrant, living organism in the form of a bee colony. Yet, at the same time I am happy, because every so often you come across a treasure in the form of more than three gallons of liquid sunshine.
It don't get much better than that.
How sad. I wonder where they think hamburgers and hot dogs come from?
Good story......
Yes, babes, I'm a city gal but can appreciate and love all of Nature and can't wait to be out there amongst it for good!
mercuriuseco
http://mercuriuseco.blogspot.com
Not too many people ever look at a cow and say "yummy! that looks like some good burgers!" They just say "how cute!"
Adela,
It won't be long Babe 'til you're out amongst the the breezes and the wild flowers! Have patience.
The tree was going to have to come down anyway, right? No need to feel any other kind of emotion but joy!!
Ah, the good life!
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