It is getting to be more like summer here on the shores of Lake Maria. We are in full bloom season. Whatever can take root in our backyard is doing so with relish. The mosquitos are thick enough to dim the midday sun.
There is a story in Wisconsin about Mosquitos. It seems two of the flying pests were cruising about looking for prey. They spot an old man on a porch sitting in his rocking chair.
They both swoop down and lift the old man chair and all and began flying to a private spot where they might drain his body of his blood.
As they flew, other mosquitos showed interest in their bounty.
To the extent, that one of our winged bloodsuckers,said " I'm worried. Let's take him out in the deep woods."
The other winged pest replied, "No, we don't want to do that. The deep woods is where the real big mosquitos are."
Nevertheless, we find ourselves in a quandary. Do we plant repellant plants and use other ecologically sound insect control practices to rid our patio of these hurtful little bugs?
This might solve our problem of getting eaten alive by this unholy cloud of these little bastards... (Sorry, my legs are itching and it's driving me nuts.)
The downside is these meaty little devils are the main course for many of the birds in our yard. We love our birds. Except for the occasional misplacement of bird excrement on our patio furniture, they are welcome.
Thier song wakes us in the morning, their foraging for worms in our yard is entertaining and we don't have to pay Netflix to enjoy them.
What to do? (Sound of someone slapping themselves on the forearm.) Kill them! Off with their heads! Let the birds, if they are up to the challenge, finish the job.
It's not Brexit, In fact, it might be more important than that. It's Football.
(The kind where all of the players have to kick it.)
Ireland was long gone, Germany fell unexpectedly to France and then there was Ronaldo. The tension was oppressive. France being the host country was favored. Oh yes and Portugal is the Chicago Cubs of European Football, always a bridesmaid never a bride. To be honest, the Cubs aren't historically even a bridesmaid very often. So who was I going to hope for? France of course. I love Paris. Actually, I've never been to Paris, but I've read a lot about Paris and it almost feels like I've been there.
Ronaldo is the star of any team he plays on and has carried that role for many teams for many years. He announced he was playing in his last game for his national team Portugal.
Football is played in two halves, each last forty-five minutes. Seeing that the clock is rarely stopped the referee is allowed to specify "extra time" for what he determines was time lost from player substitution, dealing with injured players and things of that nature. The championship game must have a winner. At the end of the ninety minutes, they were scoreless (Not unusual in this game) Renaldo was off the field injured. So they played on. They played the extra time.
And than, something unusual happened. A player that no one would have counted on to score, scored for Portugal. A stunned French crowd went silent and the mood on the field went into a new phase. Portugal went into an intense defense mindset and strategy. The player distribution on the field and their assignments are designed to make it difficult for the French to score.
On the other hand, because the French team is in an intense offensive mode, if Portugal won the ball deep there are few French players to stop them. This is really a display of desperation.
The French rallied and placed intense pressure on the Portuguese defense. Attack after attack, with some very close to successful, was repelled by the Portuguese. In the end, Portugal ended the long championship drought and carried the day.
I certainly hope the French never find out that by having me in their fan base I might have brought the curse of the Cubs with me,
There is a story in Wisconsin about Mosquitos. It seems two of the flying pests were cruising about looking for prey. They spot an old man on a porch sitting in his rocking chair.
They both swoop down and lift the old man chair and all and began flying to a private spot where they might drain his body of his blood.
As they flew, other mosquitos showed interest in their bounty.
To the extent, that one of our winged bloodsuckers,said " I'm worried. Let's take him out in the deep woods."
The other winged pest replied, "No, we don't want to do that. The deep woods is where the real big mosquitos are."
Nevertheless, we find ourselves in a quandary. Do we plant repellant plants and use other ecologically sound insect control practices to rid our patio of these hurtful little bugs?
This might solve our problem of getting eaten alive by this unholy cloud of these little bastards... (Sorry, my legs are itching and it's driving me nuts.)
The downside is these meaty little devils are the main course for many of the birds in our yard. We love our birds. Except for the occasional misplacement of bird excrement on our patio furniture, they are welcome.
Thier song wakes us in the morning, their foraging for worms in our yard is entertaining and we don't have to pay Netflix to enjoy them.
What to do? (Sound of someone slapping themselves on the forearm.) Kill them! Off with their heads! Let the birds, if they are up to the challenge, finish the job.
It's not Brexit, In fact, it might be more important than that. It's Football.
(The kind where all of the players have to kick it.)
Ireland was long gone, Germany fell unexpectedly to France and then there was Ronaldo. The tension was oppressive. France being the host country was favored. Oh yes and Portugal is the Chicago Cubs of European Football, always a bridesmaid never a bride. To be honest, the Cubs aren't historically even a bridesmaid very often. So who was I going to hope for? France of course. I love Paris. Actually, I've never been to Paris, but I've read a lot about Paris and it almost feels like I've been there.
Ronaldo is the star of any team he plays on and has carried that role for many teams for many years. He announced he was playing in his last game for his national team Portugal.
Football is played in two halves, each last forty-five minutes. Seeing that the clock is rarely stopped the referee is allowed to specify "extra time" for what he determines was time lost from player substitution, dealing with injured players and things of that nature. The championship game must have a winner. At the end of the ninety minutes, they were scoreless (Not unusual in this game) Renaldo was off the field injured. So they played on. They played the extra time.
And than, something unusual happened. A player that no one would have counted on to score, scored for Portugal. A stunned French crowd went silent and the mood on the field went into a new phase. Portugal went into an intense defense mindset and strategy. The player distribution on the field and their assignments are designed to make it difficult for the French to score.
On the other hand, because the French team is in an intense offensive mode, if Portugal won the ball deep there are few French players to stop them. This is really a display of desperation.
The French rallied and placed intense pressure on the Portuguese defense. Attack after attack, with some very close to successful, was repelled by the Portuguese. In the end, Portugal ended the long championship drought and carried the day.
I certainly hope the French never find out that by having me in their fan base I might have brought the curse of the Cubs with me,
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