You do know this goes on your permanent record when you get to the Pearly Gates.

Saturday Satan, Sunday saint
Foolin' your neighbors
That's what you think
Readin' the good book
Singin' the hymns
Come Monday morning and it's back to a life of sin

Old brother Brown
All week he steals
Tells everyone
His big business deals
The deacon walks by
A dollar hits the plate
Tryin' to buy himself a ticket to the pearly gates

Old sister Rose
On the very first row
Been a-sittin' right there
Twenty years or so
Never hears a word
When the preacher speaks
Too busy talkin' bout the bad girl down the street

Saturday Satan, Sunday saint
Foolin' your neighbors
Readin' the good book
Singin' the hymns
Come Monday mornin' and it's back to a life of sin
This little song holds good advice
Though some people may
Think it ain't too nice
Well, if you're one
Who's wearing the shoes
Well, there's somebody watchin' and he ain't nobody's fool

Saturday Satan, Sunday saint
Foolin' your neighbors
Readin' the good book
Singin' the hymns
Come Monday mornin' and it's back to a life of sin
Come Monday mornin' and it's back to a life of sin

About 2 years ago I was in NJ to help take care of Dad who was in his final days. While there I was able to help my brother who has his own funeral home. He also had a contract doing body removals for the medical examiner.

Got a call about 2 am for a fatal wreck on Interstate 80 which involved a single vehicle with 3 females. When we got to the scene investigators were just finishing up and we were ready to remove the bodies.

The vehicle was estimated to be traveling 70 to 80 mph when it left the Interstate and went into the median and slammed straight on into a tree impacting on the passenger side.

The driver was airlifted to the hospital. We had to remove the front passenger and rear passenger side body.

The front passenger side dash of the car was pushed up to the front seat. The passenger in the back seat was probably 250+ lbs. and apparently wasn't wearing a seatbelt. She was thrown forward and broke the front seat from the floor thus impacting the front passenger from behind.

At this point the scene was about 3 hours old. As we were removing the last body we heard one of the girls cell phone start to ring. It kept ringing off and on until we left 20 minutes later.

The police told us they found a sonogram picture in the wallet belonging to one of the girls. It was 3 weeks old.

When we arrived at the M.E. which is at the same hospital the driver was flown to, they were just bringing the driver to the morgue also. All 4 were back together.

When that phone rang that night all I could do is think that whoever it was, they only had a few more minutes of peace left before their life would be changed forever.

The heaven they were living in was about to turn into hell.

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell -Pink Floyd

What did you dream?
It's alright we told you what to dream" -Pink Floyd

The gates to heaven are not pearly. "...you got to go through hell
before you get to heaven" -Steve Miller Band

They will discover they are "not alone in being alone." -The Police

"Let the music be your master." -Led Zeppelin

https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51tulqBFD%2BL.jpg

That's gonna look good on his résumé when he gets to the Pearly Gates.

We'll begin with box, and the plural is boxes;
But the plural of ox should be oxen, not oxes.

Then one fowl is goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.

You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
Why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?

The cow in the plural may be cows or kine,
But the plural of vow is vows, not vine.

I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
If I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?

If one is a tooth, and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

If the singular is this and the plural is these,
Why shouldn't the plural of kiss be named kese?

Then one may be that, and three may be those,
Yet the plural of hat would never be hose;

We speak of a brother, and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.

The masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine she, shis, and shim!

So our English, I think, you all will agree,
Is the craziest language you ever did see.

I take it you already know
Of tough and bough and cough and dough?

Others may stumble, but not you,
On hiccough, thorough, slough, and through?

Well done! And now you wish, perhaps
To learn of less familiar traps?

Beware of heard, a dreadful word,
That looks like beard and sounds like bird.

And dead; it's said like bed, not bead;
For goodness sake, don't call it deed!

Watch out for meat and great and threat;
They rhyme with suite and straight and debt.

A moth is not a moth in mother,
Nor both in bother, broth in brother.

And here is not a match for there,
Or dear and fear for bear and pear.

And then there's dose and rose and lose,
Just look them up, and goose and choose.

And cork and work and card and ward,
And font and front and word and sword.

And do and go, then thwart and cart.
Come, come, I've hardly made a start.

A dreadful language? Why, man alive,
I'd learned to talk it when I was five,
And yet to write it, the more I tried,
I hadn't learned it at fifty-five!

Ugh, when I was a kid in AZ, I stepped in an old prairie dog hole and fell into a big patch of prickly pears. I got covered in the things from mid chest to ankle. They hurt sooo bad coming out.

Reminds me of falling off a bike into prickly pear cactus. They go deep too, but at least thorns usually don't splinter more on the way out.
Ouch.

Bitch...he's just waiting for a thank you....since you never show appreciation for the hard to find gifts (ever look for a 1/2 bird, 1/2 turtle?), he's assuming it wasn't enough to earn some gratitude, so he upped his game.....again and again.
She screwed up on night one, when he expected pear compote on roasted partrige breast, a thank you, and maybe a handie.
Now she's alone, homeless, and owes her soul to her landlord for destroying his property, all due to a complete lack of grattitude and not a smidgen of thought about how to properly use the gifts.

There are two types of people, those who can extrapolate from an incomplete data set...

Plant the pear trees, make a deal with your local butcher to offload the unwanted animals for a steal, the various folk musicians will presumably leave at the end of each day, or at least at the end of christmas, or if you actually somehow own them then I guess sell them to a european brothel, no problem - and then twelve days later you're still FORTY GOLD RINGS up, quids in on the discount meat and all the steak and game bird you could want for the foreseeable future.

I agree with Columbus. The world has definitely gone pear shaped.

I tried lemons in the ground here....it lived almost 3 years, but never had a lemon.
I have peach, nectarine, and plumbs in 1/2 barrels now, doing OK, but the peach and nectarine could use more room, they're both around 8-10 ft tall. The nectarines might need more cold than we get to bear fruit, but it's happy so far a year in.
I also started a trio of Asian pears in a 1/2 barrel about 10 years back, twisted together in a spiral, then planted the whole thing a few years ago, barrel and all (with the bottom pulled out). A year later I pulled all the staves and hoops up and it's been pretty happy ever since. I've had hit and miss luck just planting smaller trees directly in our ground, so I try to get the trees pretty established these days before putting them out.
If I try an orange tree, I'll probably put it in a 40 gallon pot (I like the air pots now over 1/2 barrels, they seem to make a difference in growth speed and are far cheaper) and move it inside during winter for at least the first 4-5 years, and definitely bonsai it to keep it around 8 ft.
I have a small orchard of apple trees now....around 30, and a few other fruits. At least I know they do great in our climate.

EDIT: We have had years with over a week at 20°F in the past, so I'll definitely have to cover an orange tree at times once I put it outside. If I keep it small, no problem.

So...I go to John Lewis if I'm an old man who wants to look at little girls through a telescope?


The Man in the Moon had silver shoon
And his beard was of silver thread;
He was girt with pure gold and inaureoled
With gold about his head.
Clad in silken robe in his great white globe
He opened an ivory door
With a crystal key, and in secrecy
He stole o'er a shadowy floor;

Down a filigree stair of spidery hair
He slipped in gleaming haste,
And laughing with glee to be merry and free
He swiftly earthward raced.
He was tired of his pearls and diamond twirls;
Of his pallid minaret
Dizzy and white at its lunar height
In a world of silver set;

And adventured this peril for ruby and beryl
And emerald and sapphire,
And all lustrous gems for new diadems,
Or to blazon his pale attire.
He was lonely too with nothing to do
But to stare at the golden world,
Or to strain at the hum that would distantly come
As it gaily past him whirled;

And at plenilune in his argent moon
He had wearily longed for Fire-
Not the limpid lights of wan selenites,
But a red terrestrial pyre
With impurpurate glows of crimson and rose
And leaping orange tongue;
For great seas of blues and the passionate hues
When a dancing dawn is young;

For the meadowy ways like chrysophrase
By winding Yare and Nen.
How he longed for the mirth of the populous Earth
And the sanguine blood of men;
And coveted song and laughter long
And viands hot and wine,
Eating pearly cakes of light snowflakes
And drinking thin moonshine.

He twinkled his feet as he thought of the meat,
Of the punch and the peppery brew,
Till he tripped unaware on his slanting stair,
And fell like meteors do;
As the whickering sparks in splashing arcs
Of stars blown down like rain
From his laddery path took a foaming bath
In the ocean of Almain;

And began to think, lest he melt and stink,
What in the moon to do,
When a Yarmouth boat found him far afloat,
To the mazement of the crew
Caught in their net all shimmering wet
In a phosphorescent sheen
Of bluey whites and opal lights
And delicate liquid green

With the morning fish — 'twas his regal wish —
They packed him to Norwich town,
To get warm on gin in a Norfolk inn,
And dry his watery gown.
Though St. Peter's knell waked many a bell
In the city's ringing towers
To shout the news of his lunatic cruise
In the early morning hours,

No hearths were laid, not a breakfast made,
And no one would sell him gems;
He found ashes for fire, and his gay desire
For choruses and brave anthems
Met snores instead with all Norfolk abed,
And his round heart nearly broke,
More empty and cold than above of old,
Till he bartered his fairy cloak

With a half waked cook for a kitchen nook,
And his belt of gold for a smile,
And a priceless jewel for a bowl of gruel,
A sample cold and vile
Of the proud plum porridge of Anglian Norwich —
He arrived much too soon
For unusual guests on adventurous quests
From the Mountains of the Moon.

I'm sure in many instances you're correct about his garden. It can be incredibly hard to grow things outside their native areas/environment. I try to do it myself, and it does take longer and more work to get them to fruit (I have some loquats and Asian pears growing here in N Cali, outside their preferred zones. The loquats fruited for the first time this year, after 8-10 years in the ground. The Asian pears are even older, and have yet to bloom. I hope I have better luck with my new nectarine tree.)

I just thought that finding out about these odd plants, finding where they might be, and collecting the seeds would be incredibly difficult for him, even with help. Also, he seemed to have quite a collection of seeds, I'm guessing some of them haven't been planted yet.

From my investigation, that's incorrect.
The places in China where hand pollination is used still have bees. The reason they do hand pollination is they switched to a very few varieties of apples and pears...and apple and pear trees need a DIFFERENT apple or pear tree to pollinate, so if you only have one apple variety (the norm there) it won't self pollinate, no matter how many bees there are. Also, climate change is putting the bee cycles and the tree cycles out of synch, making natural pollination even more difficult or impossible. By hand pollinating, they are able to have less than 10% 'pollination' trees to 90% 'fruiting' trees, and pollinate on the tree's cycle. THAT'S why production was better with hand pollination, not because people could do it better, but humans could target which pollen to use on which flower/tree. Also, commercial beekeepers won't 'lend' (rent) their hives out, or require high payments for them pricing most farmers out, because farmers there still use pesticides that kill bees through the pollination seasons.

Other areas that used to do hand pollination have stopped thanks to education. Now they plant more variety (so the bees/insects/birds CAN pollinate for them) and use less pesticides (that they actually didn't realize would kill bees) and are getting better yields for less money than the Chinese.

EDIT: These 'studies' always seem to ignore the incalculable cost of removing all the natural food pollinated by bees, and the collapse of many food webs caused by the loss of that food base. If people are spending cash to do the pollination work, you can be certain they'll go to great lengths to NOT share that produce with any wildlife.

Also, human hand pollination doesn't work for crops like certain grains and smaller vegetables and nuts, main human food sources. It only works for foods where a single pollinated flower will produce something worth the cost of pollination...grains simply don't, and neither do most vegetables, fruits, or nuts. Only large fruits or vegetables could use this economically. So while you're correct, it CAN be done, doing it across the board would probably quadruple the cost of average foods, if not worse.

WIKI-" If humans were to replace bees as pollinators in the United States, the annual cost would be estimated to be $90,000,000,000.[4]"

http://www.wired.com/2014/05/will-we-still-have-fruit-if-bees-die-off/