SC - icelandic sour Dough?

Tollhase1@aol.com Tollhase1 at aol.com
Mon Aug 30 18:55:18 PDT 1999


Adamantius sez:

>Now, Phlip, I'll expain something to you. You see, when a mommy tree and
a daddy tree love each other very much, They have certain...urges. With
help from some friendly bees, they produce fruit. We call this
RE-PRO-DUCT-ION. Inside the fruit are seeds. They grow into little trees
just like the mommy tree and the daddy tree.<

And isn't this where Sticky Nuts come from? Well, I suppose it's better than
Sticky Buns.....

> The seeds are different from those of most fruit in that they are dry
and hard, not sweet and juicy like Del Monte fruit cocktail with the
little embalmed cherry halves. Yum! <

Are not- they just get dry and hard towards the end.

>BOT-AN-ISTS, the science gentlemen who spend lots and lots of time
thinking really hard about plants, speak a different language from
ENG-LISH, the language of the nice men in horned helmets and fur
loincloths who drove the friendly BRIT-ISH into WAL-ES. I mean Wales.
BOT-AN-ISTS speak a language known as TECH-NIC-AL JAR-GON.<

Yes, and they refer to Walnuts, pine cones, peanuts, sunflower heads, Brazil
nut pods, et alia, as FRUI-TING BO-DIES.....

I said:

>> Shall I send you some fresh walnuts or hickory nuts, just off the tree,
oh
> UUY?

And you refused with:

>Nah, not necessary, ma'am. Besides, those aren't nuts! Just seeds. And
I'd be at a loss to think what to do with them after executing my plans
for you and that cattail you sent me. It will be a tough act to follow.<

Funny, and here I was thinking that the cattail and the various other
fruiting bodies would make you a nice still life, as well as a ready
reference for the next time you forget what real plants look like..... would
it help if I had them reproduced in concrete?


Phlip (Awaiting the moving van on its way to the rock.....)

Nolo disputare, volo somniare et contendere, et iterum somniare.

phlip at morganco.net

Philippa Farrour
Caer Frig
Southeastern Ohio

The World's Need

So many Gods, so many creeds,
So many paths that wind and wind,
When just the art of being kind
Is all this sad world needs.

- - Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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