Shocking tales of life and liberty

Not really. Most of life is no more than what you make of it.
I got here same as you. On my own two feet.

That is called a tease. It got you in the door didn't it?
Seen a man called Fat Albert
BIGGEST MAN YOU EVER SAW!
beaten down old boy. Felt sorry for him
in his sideshow tent
I guess it is a lot like that
that chick up there on the stage
shaking what she got
trying to make a buck
she don't want to fuck you
she just wants to go home and smoke a bowl
and go to sleep after she has some dinner

Don't go see the judge before lunch
or late in the afternoon
all he will want to do is put you off if he gives a damn
or throw your ass back in jail if he doesn't
if they let you give him a Snickers
maybe, just maybe his blood sugar will cause enough synapses
to click well enough to see mercy

me? I'll settle for another taco and maybe some better days
a boss who isn't so full of shit it isn't rolling out his ears
and cannot bear to hear the truth
until he tells you he doesn't want to talk any more
good. I didn't want to hear your crap any more either

So long. It's been good to know you. Bye, Mr. Pete.

"Weavers Rebellion" Kathe Kollwitz

Pete Seeger died early this morning I suppose. Sometime in the wee hours of the night the old man slept. I shall miss him. Certain people form part of the overall landscape in our lives. Though our lives might only be connected through some work, they still form part of our lives. I grew up listening to the Weavers. By the time I came along in 67 his trouble with the government had passed. He was no longer under threat of incarceration. An avowed leftist, but not without regrets for his naivete in regards to Stalin, he was still a patriot and served his country in war as well as peace. He went to the South Pacific as a mechanic at first, but when they discovered his banjo he was promptly put to work entertaining the troops. He grew up a privileged life but the condition of humanity was in his songs. Much like Kollwitz took the plight of the working class people who lived in her time and made art, Pete gave them a song to sing. Pete was man of his moment and bore it with humility. Consider the triad of Guthrie, Seeger and Lomax that met in 1940. I don't think it is a stretch to say that during that meeting  parts of rock and roll and parts of country music and parts of protest politics  were born. This renaissance of American Folk music (which isn't really ours to begin with but are bits and pieces of other places we brought here) had its birth in this meeting. The Kingston Trio, the Weavers, Peter, Paul and Mary, a thousand marches and songs of protest, a million people and a million voices time and time again were born in those days. The haters did not know it was coming for them. The song of millions. Surrounding their hatred with hope of song. 

This troublesome gift of art. 

I don't suppose it is necessary to go through his entire biography: of how he was a communist and marched with MLK.  Unashamed to be called a leftist, he did not plead the Fifth and would not snitch on his friends. The history is well documented and the transcripts are available. I'd rather talk about his humility and the gift of song. 

I have looked once or twice to see who said "Let who will write my country's laws, only let me write her songs." I think Pete understood that idea. He certainly reinforced that concept in the American consciousness. When he told MLK he needed a song and "We Shall Overcome" was at hand it was like water on a thirsty tree. That song and songs like it have been and continue to be the armor of protest. Sung in capitols and streets they protect and embolden the protester. They enrage and confound the hatred. While Woodie Guthrie's machine declared it killed fascists, Pete's banjo surrounded hate and forced it to surrender. 

Johnny Cash explaining to Pete how he wanted him on his show. This is 1970. It took some doing on the part of Mr.Cash to get him on there. 

I see troll comments will probably appear for the man today. I don't think they will be worse than what he heard in marches before. I expect he had that word on his banjo for a reason. He understood how music affects people and taps into their being. I think all artists realize that. Their effort is to do that for you and me and everybody on the planet. In Pete's case it was awareness of your world.

 Of the plight of our fellow human beings,

 of solidarity in the face of hatred and oppression,

 of peace instead of war, 

of life and its precious existence.

 I would like to think his songs will live on for many generations to come. That the ideas expressed in them will continue to influence the singers and songwriters yet to be born. I consider him one of the gifts of human beings to each other. There won't be many like him in our history, a bard of the ages. 

halfway past the label

If the words do not come to you
do not force them

I had to learn that. Many times over. So much crap tossed in the flames or the virtual trashcan.
Maybe this passes muster. perhaps it survives. We'll see come tomorrow.

When did we stop giving a shit? When did I stop paying attention?
was i too busy in search of fun? Trying to wrangle my way back to the triangle.
or just another buzz?
I get in the truck and pump out my CO2
I go hose down the world and cry at the butterfly
get the hell out of here! go away!
I am death and the reaper
fear me

Cut loose again. Not sure why. Garbled replies and it is probably me.
shrug. Keep going. This ain't it. No rest for the wicked.
and the very next day I get messages and messages replied
no please no. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
perhaps this is it. Just me on the road.
keep working and the words come when I don't expect them

Is there a day of reckoning?
Well, when is it? Can't say eh?
Carry on then. Let the wicked carry on with it.
Let the good continue to be good.
I'll just try to muddle along.
See you there. Maybe. If I make the cut.

A thousand songs and a million tears
are not enough
a picture of ten thousand words
is but a glimpse of another soul
friends of pixels and oceans away
souls out of time and in my mind
they are part of me

Pieces of Me. 2

Heard it called islands in the stream
and ships passing in the night

how are you to describe and put forth the explanation?
of the meeting of two humans
in the proximity of now
the big now. the is was and will be
tell me how you do it.
still wrestling with it over here

I hope you don't expect me to explain it all
I surely do not know
this is all a big mystery to me
a never ending search for data
a mine that never plays out
more research is needed before I can surmise
some sort of answer
of how I like you and you like me
and how it ought to be
what is the good?

He drank hemlock
I heard John was sawn in two
how many monks beheaded in search of truth?
If I stumble and If I fail
may mercy find me
I tried and keep trying
what else can the iron do in the fire?

I was there and she was there
the her that is and is not me
where was I?
was I hearing this or did I imagine such things?
NO, this was real
I was there. I remember it.
what does it all mean?
I am still finding it.
there is no end.
good.
Keep going.

A Declaration of sorts

Be it known to all interested parties or those ever so disinterested but on the contrary somewhat bored enough to muddle through this rambling declaration I am no longer a single man.

Well at least in the sense that if I went on a date with a female other than the one whose bags I loaded in her vehicle yesterday and said goodbye to this morning before she took off for a week in Houston and Austin she would likely exact severe retribution. So in that regard I am no longer in charge of some things in my life.

Like dressing myself. Those worn out old blue jeans? Probably makings for a purse or some sort of other craft project. Broke down old boots? Replaced. New cologne that I have previously never seen or heard of? Check. Shaving even though it is just an ordinary old Friday and the fanciest place we have to go is dinner? Done.   I accept these things because I am generally incapable of dressing myself in a manner that is fit for public viewing. I am very likely to keep wearing jeans that have seen their better days five years ago. Shirts with one or two burn holes in them? Still good. It is a good thing women find something tolerable about men because otherwise we would still be living in a cave and eating meat on a stick, perhaps quivering from the kill and while that is fine for oysters and perhaps some other meat, it is generally a good idea to scorch the hell out of the bacteria that is likely to be lingering on my preferred protein sources. So, all in all I accept the fact that I do need a handler. Probably 2 or 3. No, make that four, I have a sister too. Between my mother, daughter, sister and now girlfriend it is less likely that I will turn up to some event wearing clothing that should have been donated, no sorry, burned or otherwise disposed of.

That said, this is going to take some adjustment. I am not used to finding tools in a state of complete disarray. Neither am I accustomed to finding .22 long rifle shells rolling around in the bottom of the tool box. That was cause for a discussion of the concept of rimfire ignition and the relative ease with which they would penetrate said toolbox and the ensuing trip to the hospital if it found meat on its wayward path. Since she has recently moved into new digs I found myself helping out with the unpacking. This continues to be a work in progress. I have managed to thin out the stack of boxes that were sitting on the porch and store them properly in the shed/barn. Hung one shelf, a couple dozen decorative doohickeys and one rod for hanging clothes in the laundry room. I was somewhat dismayed that the sockets had been summarily dumped into a vase, but they do in fact exist and I will give her credit for that. Considering that she was making a hasty departure from a particularly bad relationship I count it in her favor that she had the presence of mind to load them at all. I can overlook the pink hammer that would fold under impact with anything more resistant than a tack. I can disregard the seemingly endless supply of wind chimes which I affectionately call clang-bangers. The 682 items in the bathroom, the closet full of nothing but coats (on the back porch to boot) and the shoes....I swear I might have an even ten pair of shoes, which is not enough for this week in Houston if you were to ask her...all these things are par for the course. I expected it and would have been nothing less than shocked if it were any different. It is however going to be an adjustment. In my wildest imagination I could not have foreseen the need for 14 t-shirts for a one week trip. Oh right, morning and evening. The idea that one might wear the same t-shirt in the evening for more than one day? Unthinkable. Yep, some adjustments are in order.

When I afford myself a moment of introspection of finding or rather being found by someone I wonder at what sort of meandering path it was. I do not know the odds of meeting someone from 20+ years ago on that wild assed world wide web. Facebook has indeed made it simpler to do so, but that is by no means a guarantee. Further, even upon finding one another, the timing for a relationship has to be right. It does not do for one or both to already be in a relationship. I am not the sort of man who goes after someone when they are in a relationship; good, bad or meh. I didn't before and I am not starting now. When she first found me a couple of years ago we were both involved. I kept my distance and said hi and howdy when it was called for but I made no attempt at reconnection, in any capacity. Then one day I received a picture of myself in the inbox. After a bout of raucous laughter I immediately posted it as a profile picture. Sweet memories of ill-spent years in college. Not so sweet for my mother though and she began to inquire of its origins I had to throw up the Heisman and say," not so fast woman, you really really do not want to know." Little did I know that my response to the maternal figure was going to be somewhat misread. The next day after some rounds of liquid bravery were consumed at a girlfriend's place she sent me another note asking if I was mad or somehow offended. Typical of me, I was scratching my head and trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong this time. At least I knew enough to say, "Mad? Why would I be mad at you? That was great! If you are talking about my comment to my mom, that was me throwing up a road block before she ventured off into dark woods she did not want to enter."

"Oh. Ok! How have you been?" and so the interrogation period began.

As I said this was a request to say something, a few syllables at least, about where I stand and what I think about it at the moment. She particularly wanted me to mention the wretched pink hammer and the shocking fact of bullets in the toolbox. I included the part of my inability to dress myself properly of my own volition. It is undeniable and symptomatic of my existence as male human being.

That'll do for a start.

Broken dreams

whiskey in the jar o

because you know she drank me easy

Dreams of me when i was young

dreams of me when i was there in full regalia

80 years ago before i parted light

who was the atoms before I was borne?

some they like a fowling

some they like a fishing

and some they like to hear the cannon balls a roaring

me? I like sleeping

especially in her chamber

i had dreams, good ones they were

i had them in my hand

and like sand they slipped the gaps

not sick and not well

said  i was the philosopher farmer 

weeded and wedded to the land of ants

go f yourself bitch

i gotta go work today

blood, sweat and tears are my share

the music follows me around

strains of what i once knew

it calls me and beckons hard

come to us again

please

we miss you

i can feel it, i can hear it

on the border

right over there on the other side

come on horse, let's go home

I had dreams of youth

believe it or not

and some i smashed with my very own hands

others died of their own accord 

tomorrow rises again

yet another day

of sweat, hours and perhaps some blood

the band played on

Dilapidated Road Hazard

I have the oldest truck in the place
it should have been taken offline
about 5 years, 2 transmissions repairs
and untold gallons of gasoline ago

I go where they tell me to
and then wonder why they can't figure
if they send me here and there
the other stuff I am supposed to do
doesn't get done
no, we didn't skip those spots
we haven't finished yet
yes sir, will have him there tomorrow
provided he doesn't have to be
somewhere else

Utility man
put me in the field wherever you want me to play
I can pitch if you want me to
or out there in the field
I really do not care
that is all on you
but remember this
if another team comes calling
offering a better deal
adios muchachos

I really don't particularly give a damn

has to be one of the best lines ever
he is walking out
where will I go? what will I do?
frankly, I don't give a damn

best fucking  line ever.
will brace myself for the onslaught..

here,

have a flower

it's chenille

look, I did not make you

or me

I did not wire your harness

nor mine

all i can do is deal with what I have

here

and now

what? you thought it would make sense?

as if you or I would make some 

semblance of reason together?

not so 

no

not so dearest friend

best we can do

is muddle along

2+2 = 4

it took him 400 goddamn pages 

to prove that

i shit you not

That is Shoeless Joe

I think he was a pretty good guy

in retrospect, after all is said and done

after nemesis found the hubris

i still think he is ok

there was a day

long ago for you and me

but in regards to time

why it was yesterday

was a couple of men that walked in that liquor store

or was it a store of stuff

who knows?

grantland rice and ty cobb

back from augusta

with bobby and the boys

there was joe

behind the counter

grantland said to ty, turn here and we will find him

and so they did

give me the bottle up over there

ring ring ring

Joe? aren't you gonna say somethin?

Ty. I wasn't sure you wanted me too

and Grantland wrote it all down

If i ever live to be a thousand or nearly so

same as Methuselah

I will never understand

I am a dolt

a fool

no better than a bump in the road

all i have are a few mumbles

pictures 

and words from somebody else

don't look over here (past oblivion)

don't look over here (past oblivion)

just say you never met me
safer that way.

at nearly a quarter to 2 what did you expect?
shall I find Waylon and Willie this time of night?

tadao said to tear down the wall
the wages were sttttttttrong
so he did
get me that jackhammer and get to it
luis, i could sure use a burrito

it still looks like a drill bit to me
no matter how phallic

grasses waving in the wind
been there
and she got mad
while she talked to some random human
i watched the airplanes fly in and out

aint none of my concern
if your mustang burns
still over here

No more hurting people. Peace.

that is what his poster said.
tears well up.
sounds so damn simple from the voice of a child
wearing his jersey of the wheel of a hub of Boston Bruins
missing a tooth
does it really matter where he was standing or what he was doing?

yeah why


why does it happen?

candyland

what brings us here?
is there an invisible sun?
wrestling with the existence
I want to know what makes people kill boys like this
or why we have to send out drones
I guess it was cheaper to fly in  by wire than send men in
and a duffell bag of a bomb with a cell phone to activate it.

I don't want to have to think about these things!

It makes me think back to the day of 911
that morning
I think of it again
it wasn't that long ago we remembered ten years in Iraq

complacency said the Senator from KY
it is difficult to restrain the anger




 I know that face
and the sun is set to rise
dear god, let him rest well
even if he who made him die
can find no place here to lay down

i want to cry out
this just ain't right

half-hearted misgivings

there is a coal on my shoulder
someone make it go away
with a knuckle and a fist it might
too tired to care

my thunderbird
drives like a dream
slide over here and let me put my arm around you
going too fast
make them have wings

i was here
and then I was gone
you kept on moving
that was to be expected
I sincerely hope it all went well

earl breaks it down for me
scruggs he's gone too
the possum isn't or wasn't nearly as photogenic
as chesney and dr dre
save me from what might be

no, no, no, I will still be over here
with what I have in hand
qwerty at the ready

seventy years ago
over there in Berlin and
where were they?
hurt me all the time
allll the goddamn time
i hope you know this will go down on your permanent record
oh yeah?
did i happen to mention I was impressed

i forget for what 8 was for
kiss off

at the sound of the grinding gears
i fired it up
don't stand too near
you might wear some of it home
hauling nine thousand gallons


where is the paradise?
i think you lied
it is not here or there
there is just the now
same as it ever was

it flew away
and I ran away too
every time I closed my eyes
fare thee well

life goes on and the wheel breaks the butterfly

I cannot help it. Life has a way of moving on.
you can stay put if you want to, but the rest of us are moving on

lying underneath stormy skies
she said the sun was set to rise
this could be paradise

no, i think not. this is just me and you and a bunch of rain
paradise is over there somewhere
we ain't found it yet
but, please be sure to tell me when you do.

there are few sure things in this life time
death and taxes among them
sure as the summer is hot in Texas
 winters are cold in Russia
the grass keeps growing
and rust never sleeps

time marches on with or without us
you can try to stand athwart the ridge of progress
and say "Stop!"
be about as effective as that viking standing at the shore
you just keep on telling those waves to stop
see how much they listen to you

I say shine
shine and burn hard and bright
use whatever fuel you have at hand
be true, be honest and be your own self
it is who you are after all

Atrazine 4L, Triazines, Scott's Bonus S, the EPA, water and your big tree.

I spray and spread a lot of chemicals around. I am good at it. I know which ones work on what plant and how and why and when to use them. It is a dark, arcane realm that I do not always like to inhabit. I am heavily regulated and closely watched. I have been inspected more than once and my presence on a job site can cause more than a little bit of controversy. I accept this. I recognize and applaud the Tx Dept of Agriculture and the Environmental Protection Agency for their efforts to keep me on the narrow path. The TDA man said my records were exemplary. Peachy. As long as I pass, fine by me.

Why exactly do we have to keep such exacting records of wind speed, temperature, registration numbers and amounts of product used? because this shit kills things. Dead dead dead. 

I had to spray wildflowers yesterday.
I did not like it.
It was kinda sad to hose it down with 2,4-D. But, I had to.

Not only that I put out one of the triazines which are now on the target list of chems the EPA is concerned about. Why are they concerned? Water. They are getting into the water system. Time for some links. Brace yourself, this blog is likely to have some ponderous links. From the USGS report

Results showed that large amounts of triazine herbicides and their degradation products were flushed into streams with runoff. Much of this transport took place during the first runoff period after application of herbicides. Subsequent runoff tended to produce lesser concentration peaks. Herbicide detections in larger Midwestern streams tended to be seasonal with higher percentages in spring and early summer and lower percentages in fall and winter.

The upshot being in the last couple of years, the EPA has decided that we should not apply this class of  herbicides in the vicinity of water (let's make that 50 ft shall we? yes let's! oh and a bunch of other restrictions too!) and that includes things like ditches, creeks, ponds (natural or man-made) drains or other water moving thingamabobs.

I have a really strong feeling it is violated constantly. Scott's Bonus S contains atrazine, a triazine, it is heavily marketed in different areas than where this study was conducted, the Midwest (hey look Amarillo, you are now part of the Midwest!) farming areas. It works and is relatively inexpensive, but it moves around a bit too much and also has a rather long half-life, some variations lasting up to 230+ days in the soil. How many homeowners this weekend will apply this stuff right next to the creek that flows through their neighborhood? Time to get a label. Yes, I read the damn label. Regularly. The very first thing that jumps out at me is what turf you can use it on and where it is sold. This is stuff specifically for St. Augustine. You cannot use it on bermudagrass or bluegrass. But, wait there a second you told us this class of chems was used up in Amarillo and I know it is too damn cold there for St. Aug!  Yep, you are right, so where is it coming from? This one. Atrazine 4L What crops does it mention regularly? Why that would be corn and sorghum. And where are those crops typically grown in the US of A? That would be the Midwest, including but not limited to Amarillo.
Now, let's get back to our homeowner friend. Did he or she read the label? Did they see the part on the Scott's one about not putting it out under trees or shrubs? Didja? Better check it again, the fine print, under restrictions and other shit you ought to know about. Not the big fancy advertising they paid good money for, no the teeny tiny writing the Feds make them put on there or some lawyer said they better because we have been having to pay off entirely too many people. They don't run that disclaimer on the ads I hear on my radio station or the ones that run on my TV. Nope, no mention of the water restrictions concerning this product or the damage it can cause to your great big Post Oaks. Y'know that one your wife liked so much that this house was the one she picked? Right, that one. No, he really doesn't say anything about that on the commercial does he? I guess they figured it wasn't a particularly good selling point. Now how they can sell this stuff at Home Depot without some mention of water(other than the standard boilerplate) is beyond me. If you have a wide expanse of St. Augustine lawn without any driplines of shrubs, trees or other ornamentals within the area, go for it. If you are like the thousands of homeowners with great big established trees don't say I didn't warn you.

There are no trees in the corn field. Those that might have been there a century ago were long since rooted up.
I suppose this is a plea to read the label of what you are using, whatever product it might be. Read it and understand it. Get past the fancy adverts and read the important stuff at the bottom.

I had words and then I wrote it down

Happy Jack lived over there on the Isle of Man
banging drums and sand, couldn't stop Jack
couldn't prevent Jack from being happy
the waters still came on

ten years man, ten years
can you count all the dead? there are bones enough to do so
i can't count all the dollars
war on the cheap costs a helluva lot
whip their ass and take their gas never came to pass

ten years ago we let loose the dragon
rolled out the cage, unlocked the bastard and he roared
oh and how he did roar
the echoes linger today
nay, nay dear sir
the fires still burn

i once said I wanted Osama's head on a stick
a watery grave was good enough
i can handle that
that was last election cycle
and ten years later ten fucking long ass years
nobody seems to give a shit about that
nobody gives a damn
about a million dead
faces they never saw
voices never heard

there isn't enough whiskey in tennessee, kentucky, ireland and scotland combined
not enough weed in cali, british columbia and colorado all put together
to smoke out, drown out or fade into oblivion of mind
the blood we shed for no good reason

we owe a weregild

far more than we can ever pay
tears. tears and some half-assed syllables.

Seen any hope or joy around?

I re-read an entry into this digital diary of sorts written about 2 years ago. I was out of a job and in the middle of having to move. It was a particularly bad time. I heard the other day that David Letterman gave an interview to somebody or another, a frank and open interview, in which he told of his struggle with depression. In his understanding of the condition he likened it to having 20/20 vision of the world. Seeing the world with a clear vision of how awful it really can be. Is this to say that those of us that are experiencing joy are somehow looking at the world through eyes that see less than they are capable of seeing? Or do they simply not choose to look upon those things that are terrible and ugly? Is truth beautiful or ugly or neither or both? Perhaps I am trying too hard to distill down everything into one lump that is either/or. Perhaps all of life is a mixture of good and bad. 

It is funny to me how I can find humor in odd spots and laugh at things that shouldn't be funny. Why did you laugh at that sir? I do not know, somehow it was funny at the time. I know a thing or two of gallows humor. Laughing in the midst of a horrific situation because at that moment there is no time for reflection. Laugh at the absurdity of it. Later we can be hurt and angry. Right now we have to deal with this situation. It isn't always funny. Sometimes there just isn't anything to laugh at and the absurdity of it all confounds me. 

Absurd random chance, both good and bad, happens to everybody. Whether we like it or not, this world is not under our control no matter how much we would like it to be. The best we can do is to control ourselves. I can't control the behavior of an ant. I can't even remotely eliminate them. Keeping them at bay is the best I can hope for. 

Keep the world at bay. That is probably your best shot at survival. Let's just deal with survival shall we? Thriving and growing for another day. Let's just stay alive first ok? This is the attitude of the cactus. It is part of why I admire them. Survival in a harsh and unforgiving land. If that prickly pear can withstand Texas every summer then I can too. If it can soak up the infrequent good rains that come its way and make flower and produce seed and fruit then it has exceeded expectations. I can ask no more. It is my task to make the most of the good times and slog through the bad. Survive, then you can thrive. 

Pre-Emergent Application. Or...Kill it early.

Get out there and do something in the yard. At the moment we are enjoying the spectacularly wonderful weather in Texas that draws snowbirds here. It won't stay this way forever. Eventually we will get one of those blue northers and freeze up for a whole day. But, somewhere out there 100F is lurking. I know it. I can feel the heat of it on my head. Looking around the area you can see the trees changing. There are ripples of green on the lawn where some of the frosts we have had are beginning to send the turf into dormancy. But I also see thin spots in the mulch. Acorns and pecans all over driveways, weeds growing in the bare spots and dead shrubs in beds. Now is the time to repair, expand and maintain your spot of earth. 

Whether you are a tofu-eating vegan that would no more spray 2,4-D than you would poke a sharp stick in your eye or you are hardened chemical slinger (ahem, don't judge me!) now is the time to get with it. There are a few reasons why this time of year is crucial to your overall success with your landscape. I am often asked " Is it too late to apply pre-emergents?" First, I had better define "pre-emergent." A plant can be characterized as pre or post emergent. Meaning it has either not sprouted (germinated) from the seed or it has. Big fancy words for still in the seed or sprouting leaves. Now it might bother some of my earthy friends but when I apply corn gluten to my beds or yard I am applying an herbicide. That is what I am trying to do, prevent the germination of undesirable plants. It is in effect a pre-emergent and is marketed that way and registered with the EPA and TDA as such. If I go apply it at your house I have to have a license same as if I was applying simazine or pendimethalin. Those are two popular and effective pre-emergents widely available. Note I do not name a particular brand name. I would recommend looking at the bottom of the label, over to one side of the front or wherever they stick the fine print box of active ingredients and looking for those chemically inclined names with far too many syllables. They can call it "Kill a Weed." Weed Hammer" "Bash a Nettle!" or whatever snappy name the marketing dept comes up with, I could not care less. I don't care if it looks like the old generic "Beer." I buy my fertilizer in a brown paper bag. It has the requisite label and all the info I need on a 3x5 square. It is just like buying meds. Aspirin is aspirin whether it is the CVS brand or Bayer. Ok now that I have gotten that out of my system, here is what you need to know about applying pre-emergents. 

KNOW the area. Even a rough estimate of pacing the area off will be better than a wild ass guess. This is important because how much product you put out, whether corn or chems is dependent upon not only the target species but how big the area might be. For example, if the label calls for 4.5# of .5% pendimethalin to control sandburs (aka stickers) per 1000 ft sq. Then knowing that your hard is 30x40 you can determine how much of this canary yellow stuff you need to put out. Well, let's just work that problem shall we?

Ok 30 times 40 = 1200 sq feet. So another 20% over our 1000. We need to add a bit. Tack that 20% to 4.5 lbs and we have 5.4 lbs. Ok this is a good estimate for weight. A cup is usually about a pound. You can get really picky and weigh it out exactly and mark it on a measuring device but a standard cup is fine. Close enough. Just don't mound it up or leave it low. A nice measured cup, flat and even. Just like flour. So in our area in question we can dump five and allllmost a half a cup in our little grindy grindy spreader and walk around . Don't run around with it wide open trying to get full coverage! Open it up about halfway and walk normally back in forth until you have good coverage of the entire area. If you made it all the way across and still have some left, finish it off by going perpendicular to your original pattern until it is gone. Sweep or blow it off the sidewalks where you inadvertently got some product and turn on the water. This scenario applies to corn gluten the same as it does chemicals. Rather than the 4.5 lbs per 1000 it is 20lbs, so adjust accordingly. 

Or you can just go out there in the yard, pull the dandelions and chickweed and eat them. That works too. 

Maybe next time I will talk about planting trees and roses. 

I bought 12 beers from Shiner Texas
not too terribly far from Austin
wintry festivusal blend with peach and pecan
that is what that flavor was!

Austin seems to be weird enough for Texas
to be acceptable to the rest of DKos
I would submit that there are weed smokers from
deep East Texas
where they have to pump the sunlight in
and far out in West Texas
where the wind draws the water
that will still benefit from the fact that
somebody in DC still has a hand on the tiller
because it has been obvious for years that Goodhair does not

It was when Sam heard the union was dissolved that he died
Barbara Jordan did not go there to leave here
I will not leave! I absolutely fucking refuse to leave!
If you want a fight to leave
well i will fight to stay.

I cannot explain bitterness and rage
some idiot test I took a while back
said that my ultimate failing was that
i expected people to make some sense

yeah, I guess I kinda do
sorry, i thought reason and logic
facts and shit like that
still applied
my bad

 Run it back again

If I am to roll this stone up the hill and forever be running away from it

as it hurtles back at me down selfsame hillock

It would be nice to find a beer and sandwich at the bottom 

before I have to push the bastard back up again

A new pair of boots, more piss in a cup

exercise in the early dawn! once more with feeling!

a shovel in hand to find the leaky pipe 

riding around roads I have known and

new ones without a map for them

over a decade ago was I here

in that time so much has changed of the appearances

more humans! more money! 

and not one thing has changed of any of it

the same school where I went

is where my daughter will go

the same road I traveled in the throngs of morning

is where I will beat a trail

I can show you the pho noodle houses

I can show you the missing farms

I can point to what used to be open pastures

I can read the demographics of the census

and in my heart know not one thing has changed

Carpe Diem

With a grin on my face I met the world

it was the best defense I had

wrinkles in time, folds of yesterday and tomorrow coming together

in one big fat now, one yesterday in a lump of today

I drove up to the rusty bridge and hoped it would hold

as they pointed the radar gun at me

yes!, I did pass inspection.

When I chucked Four door doves don't ski 

off the patio and onto the parking lot

I did not expect Fr. Gregory to return it to me

Crime and Punishment visited me later

much to my chagrin and hard it was on my wallet

and my soul

Who are these people? Why did they find me?

I did not go looking for them!

11 children. Evicted from her home. Goats upon delivery as the tire went flat in the speed trap.

who are you? How did you find me?

I can't fix or repair myself. Stop! I stand athwart the sand of time and I say halt?

no. it does not stop. I have 3 good legs. So they tell me.

the buffalo springfield raises me down to the pavement. No lumps in me as they cover me up.

let the haters hate! let the lovers love! It matters not to me!

Let me life be as it is. I did not choose all this! As much as I am to blame for my own mistakes 

as much as they might honor me

I did what I had to do. 

I was an unprofitable servant. I did what I was told to do.

I has hope, so said the cat. I love you, so said the dog. 

I will not give up, so said the weed in the ditch. 

How can I? said the man without a grave. 

There will come a time when I and my last electrons and all the substance that is me

goes to rest in the dust. It is better to hear the song of mourners For that is the end of all men.

Seize the day! Seize the moment! Shed no tears for me! Laugh and be happy!

For this day will be no more. Take this time to love and be loved. 

We get no better chance than now. 

Life goes on, whether we do or not

I heard a widow say one time when she was sitting in the back yard looking around
"The grass keeps growing." Life had kept on moving while she was dealing with the big sad.
Everybody gets sad, it is a fact of human existence. What we do with it and how we deal with it is up to us.
Last time I visited this page I was starting to realize that what I thought was there was not.
That what I wanted and what she wanted were and are two entirely different things. That can be a shock.

I had to let it go. I had to step back and look around at all the other stuff of a relationship.
Do we actually get along? Do we enjoy each other's company? Are we good for each other?
I can honestly say "no" to all of those questions. It wasn't fun all the time as a matter of fact there were some that were genuinely worried about me when they saw pictures of me. From across the ocean somebody saw the sadness behind my eyes. That was probably 6 months ago, before I finally said, "You want me out? Fine, I am gone." That wasn't the first time she had said it, but that time I took her up on it. I made it stick when she called me about fifteen minutes down the road and I made it stick again when I came back to get the rest
of my stuff. I gave in later. I gave in when she said, "Come see me". Maybe I had to go back one more time. Maybe I needed reminders of why I left. It is still hard for me to let someone go. It isn't as though there aren't  others out there that want my time and my body and brain. There are lots of fish in the sea and apparently they like my hook.