bugscufle
06-15-2008, 10:44 PM
Mesquite trees have blooms but they are the same color as the leaves and somewhat nondescript. *One might walk right by a blooming mesquite tree and never know it--if it wasn't for the bees. *A blooming mesquite is a party for honey bees. *It is always an enjoyable pause to stand aside to watch and listen to apian jocularity.
Making mesquite honey is on my short, to-do list when I retire. *Some say mesquite makes the best honey. *I don't know about that. *I'm like Winnie the Pooh, I never met a jar of honey I didn't like.
The crinum lilies bloomed for a second time. *Not nearly as elaborate as the first time. *But considering the drought and heat, we must give them considerable credit for the effort. *The rain we had between the Ides of April and the Ides of May is becoming a faint memory. *Were it not for the water in the pond, I might wonder if it was a dream. *The cannas are starting to bloom. *Fortunately for the cannas, fate has placed them next to a leaky fawcett, in a homestead where leaky fawcetts are slow to get fixed.
Plants can be like presents. *One just has to learn to recognize presents. *I do wonder about the growth of a soul in a species where most of its members have little or no daily contact with plants.
Pulled weeds in the garden today. *Evidently I like to pull weeds on hot, sultry days when there is no breeze. *Weeds are plants gone bad.
Stopped by Inmans this afternoon and got some barbeque to take out to Kirk and Vicky's place on Lake Buchanan. *I had observed a unusally high blackberry patch not far off the road near their place covered with white blooms. *It wasn't any problem in talking them into going to check out this singular specimun. *So we climbed on the golf cart and were off. *I guess it does say something about my stage in life when I go cruising on Saturday night looking for unusual plants.
Well, when we got to where I remembered the plant being, there was a pyracantha. *Now I know the difference between a blackberry and a pyracantha, or at least I did before the dementia got bad. *There were white blooms I protested. *Kirk and Vicky agreed that there were, not wanting to risk what I might do in an agitated situation. *I looked around. *Back to the south I saw one white bloom in a huge plant matte. *
We walked over to it and discovered that this was one heck of a running rose, *Though not really a running rose and not really a bush rose, but a little of each. *The white blossoms had a faint, soft fragrance. *The canes had very rose-like thorns. *But the kicker on this rose was the trunks. *Some were at least five to six inches in diameter. *This was one, seriously old rose bush/tree. *
The property at this location hasn't had any human activity for awhile. *This rose has gone through some lengthy droughts. *Can't imagine how far down the roots go for such a plant. *Vicky got a couple of cuttings. *There are seedlings coming up on the right of way that will be mowed down in the next few months. *A couple of these will magically appear on my place before this happens. *
We noticed a small, old rock house a couple hundred yards down towards the lake. *My guess is that the rose is at least as old as the house. *If this rose was planted, it would be real cool to know the name identifying the rose to the person who planted it. *I'll bet the rose would enjoy being called that again. *Like Shakespeare says, there is much in a name. *For sure, Juliet would have entranced Romeo's eyes and ears, whatever her name, but unless humankind learns the lessons of the lives of Juliet Capulet and Romeo Montague, not just its successes, but its survival is threatened.
Speaking of names in the news, Llano style, Lee Duncan, my barber, returned from a three week trip to Alaska. *They nearly worked pool ole Chuck Gibbs, Lee's partner, to death these last three weeks. *I checked by a few times in the last couple of weeks and the place was packed. *Lots of women with small boys. Reminded me of a big family with one toilet. *Everybody's eyes were saying, "Hurry up!"
In the competitive male world, Lee is a trophy barber. *Been cutting hair for 54 years and still a steady hand with a straight edge. *My barber has shot more deer and caught more fish than your barber. *
Lee is 78 years old. *Chuck is just a kid, only about 58 years old. *They say barbering is a dying profession, kind of like the priesthood. *You just don't see young barbers any more. *Young men want to be hair stylists. *All I want is my hair cut and my beard and ears trimmed. *If a person knows what she is doing, it don't take over 15 minutes, including shaving the neck and around the ears. *It is crazy to pay extra for something one doesn't want. *I just shake my head when I see some young man has paid $35.00 to $40.00 to get their hair to look like mine when I get up in the morning.
Lee started barbering when men were using hair oil. *More men got shaves at the barbers in those days. *About three years after he started, the flat-top fad came along. *Then there was the long hair and beards of the 60s. *Lee has seen a lot.
Lee and Chuck don't take credit cards. *Just more headache and they have to pay for the headache. *I like low tech places. *Lee and Chuck will take your check. *Paying with a check, like everything else, has changed a lot since Lee began cutting hair.
Back in the 50s and earlier, all businesses had a tiered tray with check pads on a counter. *These were "pay to the order of" instruments with very little information on them other than the banks name and the city and state where it was located. *The only numbers on these checks were "19". *The preparer would supply month, day, decade and year. *These were simpler times before zip codes, account and routing numbers. *These checks had no printed names, addresses, phone numbers, driver license numbers or dates of birth. *There was just one thing that both identified the account holder, his or her signature,
We really don't have the same concept of signature these days. *Signatures have devolved from names to numbers and passwords. *They tend to make us more digital and less human.
Businesses would keep checks on hand for a half dozen to a dozen area banks. *A customer would state a preference, as simply and as matter-of-factly as requesting a brand of cigarettes. *Often times, they would request the person at the register to fill out the check. *Perhaps this was because the employee did the check quicker, or more neatly, or if the person could write at all, it was limited to their name. *
The completed check was then presented to the customer for signature. *I have memories of farners and ranchers purposefully pulling eye glasses out of their cases and bending over to get the right distance from the check. *They were never in a hurry to work their way through the simple document to the line where they would sign.
The instrument they usually signed with was a liquid ink pen. *I am so glad I got in on the tail end of the liquid ink pen era in public education. *It is a hard to describe cheap thrill to watch liquid ink saturate, decorate, dry and change hues as ones thoughts or purposes move along. *Of course, anything that wonderful, also had a dark side. *I think it was part of our curriculum that every child spill a bottle of ink at least once. *Preferably while wearing new clothes. *If a poor child had no new clothes, their best would do. *Wish I had a nickle for every kid who got a spanking or whipping for spilling ink on good clothes. *Those were violent times.
Liquid pens gave us pocket protectors. *Pocket protectors gave us nerds. *Nerds gave us the computer era. *But I get far ahead of myself. *
What liquid ink does when a person prepares to signs a check, is that it requires that they take care to avoid smudges or even confusing messes. *No doubt in every farmer or rancher's subconscious, their was a liquid pen episode that had not gone well. *A signature is like a few other things that people do in that, once begun, one cannot stop until the act is completed. *This is especially true with liquid ink signatures.
They began with their own name. *The name that identified them as student, friend, neighbor, citizen, seller, buyer, believer or questioner, and man of honor or not. * Then they went on to the middle initial. *Often this initial or name had something directly to do with their mother. There are few thoughts more sobering than those of a mother who has died. *Finally, the last name began. *The individual had become family. *This was father, mother, grandparents, and parent grandparents. *This was stories, of wars, disease, long and dangerous trips, chopping trees and digging up roots just for the opportunity to spend days walking behind plows. *These were wet and cold, hot and thirsty, dirt floor, isolated lives. *Lots of struggle and sacrifice back that way. *Family was also children and grandchildren. He wanted his sons or daughters to have a place if they wanted it. *If it wasn't what they wanted, he hoped it would provide educations and good starts in life. *Lots of hopes and dreams down that way. *
I've always thought that a person's signature says a lot about their life. *The name usually started big and flamboyant, just like the joy of a new born child and all the possibilities of such a beginning. *The signature might show other significant happenings, but most of the signature was just a series of ups and downs. *And while the signatures suggested there were times when they just seemed to be going in cirlces, there was always an overall movement forward.
After a farmer or rancher had signed the check, they often would spend a moment studying the check. *I often wondered why. *Few were checking the preparer's work because they had years of confidence with this person. *
A little over a year ago I was listening to a person about my age give a portion of the eulogy at her father's funeral. Her parents were part of the Greatest Generation and her father had been in the landing on D-Day as well as part of the forces that outlasted the Nazis during the Battle of the Bulge. Later, he spent many years as a leader in his church. Before Alzheimer's changed him, he told her he wouldn't be leaving her a lot of wealth, but that he would be leaving her a good name and he hoped that that was enough.
Then I understood what the long gone farmers and ranchers were looking at after they signed a check. *They were being sure that their name was as good as they could make *it.
Making mesquite honey is on my short, to-do list when I retire. *Some say mesquite makes the best honey. *I don't know about that. *I'm like Winnie the Pooh, I never met a jar of honey I didn't like.
The crinum lilies bloomed for a second time. *Not nearly as elaborate as the first time. *But considering the drought and heat, we must give them considerable credit for the effort. *The rain we had between the Ides of April and the Ides of May is becoming a faint memory. *Were it not for the water in the pond, I might wonder if it was a dream. *The cannas are starting to bloom. *Fortunately for the cannas, fate has placed them next to a leaky fawcett, in a homestead where leaky fawcetts are slow to get fixed.
Plants can be like presents. *One just has to learn to recognize presents. *I do wonder about the growth of a soul in a species where most of its members have little or no daily contact with plants.
Pulled weeds in the garden today. *Evidently I like to pull weeds on hot, sultry days when there is no breeze. *Weeds are plants gone bad.
Stopped by Inmans this afternoon and got some barbeque to take out to Kirk and Vicky's place on Lake Buchanan. *I had observed a unusally high blackberry patch not far off the road near their place covered with white blooms. *It wasn't any problem in talking them into going to check out this singular specimun. *So we climbed on the golf cart and were off. *I guess it does say something about my stage in life when I go cruising on Saturday night looking for unusual plants.
Well, when we got to where I remembered the plant being, there was a pyracantha. *Now I know the difference between a blackberry and a pyracantha, or at least I did before the dementia got bad. *There were white blooms I protested. *Kirk and Vicky agreed that there were, not wanting to risk what I might do in an agitated situation. *I looked around. *Back to the south I saw one white bloom in a huge plant matte. *
We walked over to it and discovered that this was one heck of a running rose, *Though not really a running rose and not really a bush rose, but a little of each. *The white blossoms had a faint, soft fragrance. *The canes had very rose-like thorns. *But the kicker on this rose was the trunks. *Some were at least five to six inches in diameter. *This was one, seriously old rose bush/tree. *
The property at this location hasn't had any human activity for awhile. *This rose has gone through some lengthy droughts. *Can't imagine how far down the roots go for such a plant. *Vicky got a couple of cuttings. *There are seedlings coming up on the right of way that will be mowed down in the next few months. *A couple of these will magically appear on my place before this happens. *
We noticed a small, old rock house a couple hundred yards down towards the lake. *My guess is that the rose is at least as old as the house. *If this rose was planted, it would be real cool to know the name identifying the rose to the person who planted it. *I'll bet the rose would enjoy being called that again. *Like Shakespeare says, there is much in a name. *For sure, Juliet would have entranced Romeo's eyes and ears, whatever her name, but unless humankind learns the lessons of the lives of Juliet Capulet and Romeo Montague, not just its successes, but its survival is threatened.
Speaking of names in the news, Llano style, Lee Duncan, my barber, returned from a three week trip to Alaska. *They nearly worked pool ole Chuck Gibbs, Lee's partner, to death these last three weeks. *I checked by a few times in the last couple of weeks and the place was packed. *Lots of women with small boys. Reminded me of a big family with one toilet. *Everybody's eyes were saying, "Hurry up!"
In the competitive male world, Lee is a trophy barber. *Been cutting hair for 54 years and still a steady hand with a straight edge. *My barber has shot more deer and caught more fish than your barber. *
Lee is 78 years old. *Chuck is just a kid, only about 58 years old. *They say barbering is a dying profession, kind of like the priesthood. *You just don't see young barbers any more. *Young men want to be hair stylists. *All I want is my hair cut and my beard and ears trimmed. *If a person knows what she is doing, it don't take over 15 minutes, including shaving the neck and around the ears. *It is crazy to pay extra for something one doesn't want. *I just shake my head when I see some young man has paid $35.00 to $40.00 to get their hair to look like mine when I get up in the morning.
Lee started barbering when men were using hair oil. *More men got shaves at the barbers in those days. *About three years after he started, the flat-top fad came along. *Then there was the long hair and beards of the 60s. *Lee has seen a lot.
Lee and Chuck don't take credit cards. *Just more headache and they have to pay for the headache. *I like low tech places. *Lee and Chuck will take your check. *Paying with a check, like everything else, has changed a lot since Lee began cutting hair.
Back in the 50s and earlier, all businesses had a tiered tray with check pads on a counter. *These were "pay to the order of" instruments with very little information on them other than the banks name and the city and state where it was located. *The only numbers on these checks were "19". *The preparer would supply month, day, decade and year. *These were simpler times before zip codes, account and routing numbers. *These checks had no printed names, addresses, phone numbers, driver license numbers or dates of birth. *There was just one thing that both identified the account holder, his or her signature,
We really don't have the same concept of signature these days. *Signatures have devolved from names to numbers and passwords. *They tend to make us more digital and less human.
Businesses would keep checks on hand for a half dozen to a dozen area banks. *A customer would state a preference, as simply and as matter-of-factly as requesting a brand of cigarettes. *Often times, they would request the person at the register to fill out the check. *Perhaps this was because the employee did the check quicker, or more neatly, or if the person could write at all, it was limited to their name. *
The completed check was then presented to the customer for signature. *I have memories of farners and ranchers purposefully pulling eye glasses out of their cases and bending over to get the right distance from the check. *They were never in a hurry to work their way through the simple document to the line where they would sign.
The instrument they usually signed with was a liquid ink pen. *I am so glad I got in on the tail end of the liquid ink pen era in public education. *It is a hard to describe cheap thrill to watch liquid ink saturate, decorate, dry and change hues as ones thoughts or purposes move along. *Of course, anything that wonderful, also had a dark side. *I think it was part of our curriculum that every child spill a bottle of ink at least once. *Preferably while wearing new clothes. *If a poor child had no new clothes, their best would do. *Wish I had a nickle for every kid who got a spanking or whipping for spilling ink on good clothes. *Those were violent times.
Liquid pens gave us pocket protectors. *Pocket protectors gave us nerds. *Nerds gave us the computer era. *But I get far ahead of myself. *
What liquid ink does when a person prepares to signs a check, is that it requires that they take care to avoid smudges or even confusing messes. *No doubt in every farmer or rancher's subconscious, their was a liquid pen episode that had not gone well. *A signature is like a few other things that people do in that, once begun, one cannot stop until the act is completed. *This is especially true with liquid ink signatures.
They began with their own name. *The name that identified them as student, friend, neighbor, citizen, seller, buyer, believer or questioner, and man of honor or not. * Then they went on to the middle initial. *Often this initial or name had something directly to do with their mother. There are few thoughts more sobering than those of a mother who has died. *Finally, the last name began. *The individual had become family. *This was father, mother, grandparents, and parent grandparents. *This was stories, of wars, disease, long and dangerous trips, chopping trees and digging up roots just for the opportunity to spend days walking behind plows. *These were wet and cold, hot and thirsty, dirt floor, isolated lives. *Lots of struggle and sacrifice back that way. *Family was also children and grandchildren. He wanted his sons or daughters to have a place if they wanted it. *If it wasn't what they wanted, he hoped it would provide educations and good starts in life. *Lots of hopes and dreams down that way. *
I've always thought that a person's signature says a lot about their life. *The name usually started big and flamboyant, just like the joy of a new born child and all the possibilities of such a beginning. *The signature might show other significant happenings, but most of the signature was just a series of ups and downs. *And while the signatures suggested there were times when they just seemed to be going in cirlces, there was always an overall movement forward.
After a farmer or rancher had signed the check, they often would spend a moment studying the check. *I often wondered why. *Few were checking the preparer's work because they had years of confidence with this person. *
A little over a year ago I was listening to a person about my age give a portion of the eulogy at her father's funeral. Her parents were part of the Greatest Generation and her father had been in the landing on D-Day as well as part of the forces that outlasted the Nazis during the Battle of the Bulge. Later, he spent many years as a leader in his church. Before Alzheimer's changed him, he told her he wouldn't be leaving her a lot of wealth, but that he would be leaving her a good name and he hoped that that was enough.
Then I understood what the long gone farmers and ranchers were looking at after they signed a check. *They were being sure that their name was as good as they could make *it.