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February 16th 2011    Tim Candler

    Twelve Sandhill Cranes circling, and last night I saw a ring around the moon.   I dreamed of Spinach rows gone to seed, and a giant beetle who called himself Alfred. 

    Alfred was bold in his remarks.  His distant relatives, he told me, were  Ladybugs, but he himself emerged from that clan of Ladybug that became the Mexican Bean Beetle.

     I told Alfred that I had been careful last year.  I had  picked off larvae.  I had lifted beans early.  I had been diligent.  "No you weren't," he said.

    This year I told him there would be no wimping around in the sunhat, and no moaning and groaning from me.  "Yes there will," he said.

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