Just One

The lone "ladybug" 

     From The Copy Desk: This time The Boys got their bug, since this week's subject moves a bit slower than the butterflies that eluded Marty's camera this past summer. We here at The Copy Desk are thrilled to avoid curious excursions north of the 38th parallel to find "suitable" artwork for their post.




     "Well that's it, I'm all done cleaning up the window sills," Warren said. "That was easy, just one bug."
     Indeed, Warren had swept up, sprayed and wiped down the entire winter burough sun room.  Marty, suspiciously, wandered out into the sun-warmed enclave and looked around.
     "Hey it really does look good. Nice job Warren," Marty said. "And I thought you were grossed out by dead bugs, what's up, you turning 'normal' on me?"
     Marty need not worry. There's a half a roll of paper towels in the garbage can to prove Warren's still a scaredy-gopher when it comes to dead things. And besides, it's Thursday and Warren just woke up.
     "It was easy," Warren said. "It wasn't dead. So I let it crawl onto a beer mat and then I let it go outside.
     And there were no other bugs, dead or alive, anywhere ..... " Warren paused, realizing that ..... "there were no huge bunches of ladybugs to vacuum up, or cluster flies or even June bugs this past summer."
     "You're right, brother," Marty said, "And there's the sudden lack of birds around here. If all the bugs are gone, birds would leave."
     The Boys stared at each other for a moment, then leapt (well, kinda) into action. Gathering snacks, craft beverages, pillows blankets and iPads they settled into the Adirondack chairs to catch the late afternoon sun glistening off the year's first snowfall.
     "There's a story here that may explain our anecdotal observations," Marty said.
     "Aunt who" Warren asked.


     From The Copy Desk: Yes, there is a story HERE that may explain The Boys' observations.

Things are looking up

Things are looking up for these DPRK generals, for
their missiles just successfully launched and
they're not going to die today.

      "Hey there goes another one," Warren exclaimed. "That makes 34 this year, way up from the 14 we spotted in each of the last two years."
     Marty, tripping over their "Easy" button, scrambled to grab the camera. By the time he's ready and out the door, the monarch butterfly was nowhere to be seen.
     "Rats, missed another one," Marty said. "How will The Copy Desk illustrate the post now."
     Marty had been trying for weeks to get a good picture of an endangered monarch butterfly flitting through the yard. There's really not a lot of them anymore (thanks Monsanto) and they winter in a mountainous area of Mexico, where each year the wintering monarch population is counted.
     "I wonder if this year's increased numbers around the burrow are a predictor of a winter monarch population increase," Marty said. "That data point comes out in January, I think."
     "Actually it comes out in February," Warren said. "And maybe this year's higher local number reflects last year's population rebound. Two years ago there where only 42 million overwintering butterflies - down from the 20 year average of about 225 million. In 2016 there were 150 million and in 2017 the numbers dipped to 125 million. For the details, see Center for Biological Diversity"
     "How do you do that," Marty said. "How do you insert a hyperlink into your speech. It's not natural. We may have to burn you as a witch at some point."
     From The Copy Desk: As to Warren's 'witchiness" we're not going to divulge what we know, but we will hint at the possibility that he may in fact be drinking Guinness and watching hurling or something .... somewhere. If only there were pictures.  

The Dangers of Pants

     From The Copy Desk: As is well documented, indeed, from the beginning, The Boys have avoided the pitfalls and discomfort of ..... Pants. Now, they feel, they are vindicated.

An airborne menace.

   "Hey Warren," Marty said. "Have you seen that The Copy Desk (TCD) is up and about. He can actually walk again." It had been at least a week since either of The Boys saw TCD out in the garden near the summer burrow. The only visitor has been that one lone turkey, and she has the nerve to bathe on the marmots' sun porch.

    "I heard him tell someone he's on steroids," Warren said. "They also mentioned swell links, and I think, something about bird psyching. Where they talking about sausage and playing tricks on chickadees?"

     "Once again haphling, you've managed to get most of that wrong," Marty said. "It's true he was on steroids, but not the Jose Canseco-kind, just the ones that reduce swelling. Which is the second point, he said swelling, not swell links, and lastly - the birds are safe - the diagnosis was an inflamed bursar sack of the hip joint. Bursitis it's called.

   "The best guess as to what brought him down remains ....... his pants," Marty said. "It took years, but the long-term impact on his fatter wallet pressing against the diminishing muscle mass of a child of the Eisenhower Administration, the back pocket a bit lower as the bulging stomach limits the height to which the pants can be hitched ..... eventually there's enough aggravation and joint becomes so painful I saw him crawl across the kitchen to feed the cat."
     "Why would he do that?" Warren asked.
     "Because his leg didn't hurt when he crawled," Marty said.
     "No. I mean why would he feed the cat. They're hunters. She should feed herself," Warren said.
     From Copy Desk: The relative merits of cats in general, and specifically with regards to the current feline resident here at The Copy Desk, are debatable. We'll leave that for another time, suffice it to say for now that she could apply for and probably win PETA-approved status - as she rarely, if ever, seems to hunt anything.
     "So the lesson here is don't wear pants?" Warren asked. "But, mercifully, he still seems to wear pants, so I'll guess that he just keeps his wallet in his front pocket now."
     "And it's a good thing too," Marty said. "He's got an important job coming up, what with the holiday and all."

     From The Copy Desk: Yes the deadline approaches. The holiday is of course June 21, the 73rd birthday of now-Sir Raymond Douglas Davies, being knighted late last year, and in celebration The Boys and TCD generally round up a post with all dialogue being lines from Sir Ray songs; See: The Hard Way and The Tronald.

   

Marmots .... Upgraded

     From The Copy Desk: Among the impediments to more frequent posts on this blog (besides a vigorous nap schedule, snacking, eating, dining, sleeping and chores around the burrow), it has always been technology which has vexed The Boys significantly. Now, with their electric bill slashed by solar panels, our furry pundits are excited to announce that their tech woes may be over. A new iPad Pro, with camera and 256 gig of memory, has been secured to replace their creaking iPad 1 ..... which dates from early 2010 and uses the venerable Apple A4 chip - meaning that it was almost entirely unable to access Internet sites with any aplomb. Now upgraded, The Boys are threatening to post more often. We here at The Copy Desk are hopeful, but we'll wait for evidence to roll in.

Warren saying goodbye to the old iPad.

     "This isn't working," Marty said. "Why on earth can't I add a photo I just took with this iPad to the blog I'm writing on THIS iPad."
     Warren, resisting the more snarky comment that popped into his head, asked, "Why don't you call Bill Gates and ask him to explain it to you."
     This first-world problem, for once, isn't Mr. Bill's fault ..... the problem seems to be that Google and Apple stuff can't get along.
     "We'll have to cope," Marty said. "I just have email the photo to the Mac mini in the burrow and live with. It means I still can't post from wherever, but I guess it'll do."
     Warren wondered if actually reading the iPad tips or taking the online class would help, but figured Marty was too stubborn to go there. "After want we've endured with the old one this is still a great improvement ... if we can figure out how to shut down the audio typo function."
   
     From The Copy Desk: With that we'll leave The Boys to their self-improvement effort and await their next effort.

Shock treatment

      From The Copy Desk: It's been a few weeks now and Marty has finally emerged from his emergency shock treatment .... immersed in pain -relieving gel, sipping bourbon and gobbling analgesics like M&Ms. The election was indeed a shock to him and now as the thrice-bankrupt prophet of rude prepares to lead the free world he's trying to figure out what he'll need to survive this more than normally uncertain future.


     "Hey Warren," Marty shouted, "should I get a gas-fueled electric generator for the burrow or six years of freeze-dried vegetarian meals. I'm running out of money and I can't decide."
     Warren thought for a bit and said, "How about three years of food and a solar panel. There's these companies that'll put a set of panels in your yard for free, you just gotta sign up to buy the power for 20 years or so.
     This will also leave some money in your account, which you will probably withdraw and hide at the bottom of the burrow."
      Warren knew Marty had a few more stages of grief to work through, what with the death of truth, and figured he'd let him do his crazy stuff and get it out of his system. Only then can they figure out what they really need to do and get on with that. Marty returned to the laptop and appeared to be shopping for solar panels.
     "Russian poodles," Marty screamed, looking up from the Mississippi.com webpage for pets. "Breeders have created a new dog. This is absurd. A pink dog with a blonde comb-over."
      Warren came over to see the picture and noticed something, "It says they're sold out. Also, the dogs can't be exported to the European Union because they're genetically modified."