The good reverend Oliphant is enjoying a Pete’s Wicked Strawberry Blonde and basking in the glory of having defeated the evil forces of Waspdom. After the little buggers took up residence in my pool cover reel and decided to launch attacks on me as I uncovered the pool, I gave up my ridiculous “no kill wasps” ideals and counter-attacked with a can of Raid. Sure, I’ve just turned my pool cover reel into a toxic stew and done my part to destroy the environment, but at least I don’t have to put up with bites and stings from that particular group of nasties whilst I uncover the pool. So, anyone need a minister to perform a marriage ceremony? I’m pretty sure my lack of belief in God shouldn’t have too much effect on my new credentials. If so, I’m willing to incorporate the Church of Whatever.
Oliphant Parts
Potato Wine
When most people think Idaho, they think potato. Or skinheads. Either way, it’s a spud. Up here in the northern tip of Idaho, it’s the huckleberry. Or, once again, the skinhead. Wanting to expand our Idaho experience, we’ve been trying out the local wines, which are made from neither the potato nor the skinhead, and only occasionally include huckleberries. Our favorite, based on their ice wine, has been Ste. Chapelle’s.
This weekend, I decided to expand our tastings of Ste. Chapelle’s and purchased several bottles of Chardonnay, Souvignon Blanc, Riesling, Dry Riesling, Soft Chenin Blanc and a few others that I do not remember and for which I am too lazy to trudge down to the basement and check the labels. So far, we have tried two of these delightful wines, the Chardonnay and the Sauvignon Blanc. They have quite similar tastes, that is to say, almost none at all, instead relying on the bite of alcohol to provide the flavor. Well, to be honest, there is a bit of flavor which comes from the bouquet, so what you end up with is weak battery acid with a hint of rotting fruit. Not exactly a user-friendly wine in either case. Tomorrow I think we’ll try the Rieslings, and if those are similarly uninspiring, it will be time to play the wine snob and dump the rest of the stuff down the drain. Please, oh please, don’t disappoint us, my sweet Rieslings!
Stung
As a child, I had a particularly memorable and unpleasant encounter with yellowjackets. Being a hippie-child, I was running around naked at the time, and the bites and stings I suffered would not have occurred were I dressed. Suffice it to say, I have a particularly strong aversion to yellowjackets, or wasps of any kind, actually.
I am older now and trying to maintain a pesticide-free yard and garden. Because of this, my old enemies are now my allies. To most, a wasp is a pest, but to those of us wishing to control garden-munching pests without the use of toxins, they are invaluable. As such, other than the ones right against the house or in doorways, I’ve stopped destroying the paper wasp nests that pop up all over my property. Hopefully, they’ll show me the same consideration and not try to bite or sting me anywhere unmentionable as they hunt for food.
I still haven’t forgiven the yellowjackets of the world, but at least I no longer go out of my way to hunt them down and destroy them. And thanks to Michael Vick, I no longer consider them to be the creatures least deserving to live on the face of the earth. Don’t worry, Michael, you’re still better by several orders of magnitude than, Bushboy, Big Dick and pretty much anyone associated with our current administration.
Vacation
In case anyone is interested, I am on vacation this week. Yesterday I cruised around on my motorcycle for a while, tossed the kids around in the pool, and watered shrubbery. Today I am building a platform for the swamp cooler and watering shrubbery before I cruise around on my motorcycle for a while and toss the kids around in the pool. Oh, and reading some fun sites that I really need to add to my blogroll: 43rd State Blues, Trapped by the Mormons, Ishmail, Molly The Mormon and The Mormon Curtain. And finally, just because it has such an awesome headline: Huffington.
Free Libby
Oh good, our lying sack-of-shite President has decided once again to prove he and his buddies aren’t subject to the same laws as us commoners. And a big Fuck You to you too, Georgie! There really is no point in being civil when discussing these bastards any more. If there is a God, the fair trade would be for a certain someone’s pacemaker to fatally short-circuit. That, and for the next pretzel to win. Please, please please let this presidency end with a war crimes tribunal! Okay, enough ranting. Fuckers.
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