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AHHHHRRRRGGGGGG ! !!!!!!!!!!

Thank you. I needed that. I grew up on a farm in Saskatchewan with a perrenial slough. This made my day!

Good one.

That's how beer first came into being - barley moistened to start the conversion of starch to sugar, a little bit of wild yeast landing on it and presto!

Needs hops though.

"No tern left unstoned" - that's a good one.

If he'd had used a John Deer combine there would have been no barley left in the straw to make happy juice!

"no tern unstoned"...

Hahahahaha... good one Kate!

Do you think some of these stoned terns maybe got mixed up at migration time and are now part of the lpc inOttawa?

I am honesly at a loss for words!

Stoopid but very funny

Also, obviously, at a loss for "t"s

We hereby vote Bob Wood as commenter of the day:

"Honourable Small Dead Animal" for wit and wisdom in providing an excellent comment of the day.

Bob Wood leading the charge against wooden heads exploding.

Cheers

Hans-Christian Georg Rupprecht, Commander in Chief

1st Saint Nicolaas Army
Army Group "True North"

I knew the robins have a taste for overripe fermented cherries, but didn't know terns like their beer.

Great now the enviroweenies will be checking every farmer's sloughs for contraband barley.

Saskatchewan Single Slough Malt.

And...

Reminds me of Ricky from Trailer Park Boys:

"We can get two birds stoned at one time"

Thanks for the smile Bob.

Threshed barley straw in bales, weighed down so that it stays submerged works very well. Used it on the stocked dugout. No drunk trout and nice clear water. Product called "Ponder" available at UFA works as well.

I must caution you that the use of barley straw to control pond scum is an illegal act. According to Health Canada barley straw "is an unapproved pest management device" and anyone caught selling it for such a purpose will be prosecuted. In fact under the term of the soon to be re-introduced consumer protection legislation that prosecution could result in bankruptcy and due dillegence and/or a total lack of harm to anyone or thing is not a defence.

Okay, that does it...

A young friar named James was given the responsibility of looking after the meditation garden at his monastery. He grew to excel at the task, and his fellow monks could only marvel at the spectacular blossoms that sprang up in his garden.

One day as James carefully tended his plot a young woman who was passing by saw his wondrous flowers through the wrought-iron fence surrounding the monastery and she inquired as to whether he might perhaps sell her a few flowers to take to her mother. Friar James checked over his shoulder to see that no one was looking and then snipped off a few at the base of the stems and handed them to the young woman, who handed him ten dollars which he pocketed stealthily.

Within a few days word of his wondrous flowers spread through the neighbouring villages, and Friar James began to sell his bouquets, under cover of darkness, through the window of his room at the monastery. After a few months the business was so successful that he put up a sign: “Franciscan Florist.”

One night as the Abbot was strolling in contemplation in the garden he saw the activity. Quietly furious that one of his charge had become a florist, he gathered up his robes, charged into to Friar James’ room, and demanded an immediate halt to the activity. Friar James humbly apologized, and vowed to stop, but the next night the same steady stream of customers, money in hand, approached the window after dark.

The Abbot spoke again to friar James, but to no avail; business continued as usual. Finally, after numerous attempts to put a stop to the activities, the frustrated Abbot wrote a letter to the head of the Franciscan order asking for his advice. A few weeks later the Abbott received a letter informing him there was only one way to stop the activity: go into town and find someone -- anyone -- named "Hugh" and have him talk to the young friar.

The Abbot was puzzled, but he did as he was told. He went into the village, and after a few inquiries he found a shy, stuttering accountant named Hugh, who, it seemed to the Abbot, appeared to have no aptitude whatsoever for convincing anyone of anything. The situation was explained, and Hugh agreed to speak to Friar James.

Hugh arrived promptly the next morning at 5 am as requested, and was led to the friar’s room. He went in, closing the door behind him. Three seconds later he emerged, nodded to the Abbot, and scuttled off down the hall and out of the monastery.

That night the Abbot, hiding behind foliage, watched carefully and saw that the sign had been taken down, and that the friar did not attend his window, despite the long line of customers waiting there. And there was no business the next night, and the next, until finally the customers stopped coming altogether.

The Abbot was entirely puzzled, and full of worldly curiosity. He wrote to the head of the order: “I have witnessed a miracle. But prithee, father, how is it that a simple petition from the accountant named Hugh could so ably bring about a change in Friar James’ behaviour?”

A few weeks later, he received a reply from the Master-General. With a measure of eagerness anathema to his vows, he opened the envelope and read carefully the cursive script, which said:

“Abbot Grunwich, you seem to have forgotten one simple rule that even young children know: Hugh, and only Hugh, can prevent florist friars.”

Kind of like the time that the fisherman who was wading in the river had his wallet fall out of his pocket. Before was able to retrieve it a fish grabbed and started to swim off when another fish took the wallet from the first. This was a classic example of carp to carp walleting.

Hahahahahyaaa,,,,, I ain't stopped laughing yet, and Man oh Man, with all this scare-mongering on the economy we need a good laugh.

You know I may be wrong on this, but the USA GDP was almost 15 Trillion in 2008 and they are gona put us 2 Trillion in the hole for 2009.

So, that's kindof like making $15 bucks a week and on Monday borrowing a couple of bucks from Mom or Dad to make it thru the week.

Does that seem about right, I mean it seems Obama and Company are blowing this thing way out of proportion ?

Just thinking out loud down heya in Mt. Olive, Louisi-Yana.
,

Sorry folks, that line's been around, in several versions, for many years.

Western farmers thought they had a gold mine a few years back, when oil companies started buying straw for reclamation. They baled up huge volumes of straw, and stored it, waiting for someone to come along and pay them big bucks for it. After a few unsuspecting reclamation supervisors realized they were introducing weeds to all their reclamation sites, they little straw boom came to an unhappy ending.

Of course, nothing could have been as disastrous as the uncontrolled use of manure on reclamation sites. Not only does it spread weeds, it germinates and fertilizes them in the process.

Sometimes nature just can't compete with good old chemicals.

yesssss. funny it is.

peter h. a good reason to have a gun eh.

Some drunken terns, unable to hold their likker, unceremoniously "heaved" onto the rocky terrain around said slough. At which point the liquor control board and the S.P.C.A came along and gave your brother a kick in the pants, leaving him somewhat "red-cheeked, " therby completing this little narrative.

You provided the "no tern unstoned," and I give you the "no stone unterned" as well as the "no tern un-toned."

Don't go getting all worked up about this. It is not an original from this desk. Learned it at "sit-down" comic school, in Montreal, over tall cold quarts of Mol. 'bout fifty years back. Also was part of a group devoted to the hobby of "time wastage" by reletlessly collecting "Spoonerisms."

By the way, having spent time at school in God's country SK. I learned that "slough" [as in slew of brackkish water and "bluff"[an isolated stand of trees smack in the middle of the bald prairies] are ostensibly bits of manled english exclusive to SK.

tj

t.e.&.o.e.

OOPS and Yikes. Make "manled" to read "mangled." thnx

tj

old white guy, damn straight. Alternatively, I though working hard for the cpc would make it easier, instead even with their great skill and mandate they can't budge the vested interests choke hold on policy. The sr. policy cats are lifers, the elected come and go like the tide.

btw, do you think dp stands for dow petrochemicals?

Kind of reminiscent of the time Roy Rogers killed the mountain lion for ruining his new boots. Dale Evans asked:
"Pardon me Roy, is that the cat that chewed your new shoes?"

I recall a soiree held to honour the great violinist Isaac Stern, at which it was famously proclaimed that "he had left no tone unSterned..."

I've been called worse than that, Peter.

TJ- The words "slough" and "bluff" appear on township survey plans from 1885. They're probably old English words that aren't used anywhere else, anymore. The prairie homesteaders would have been very familiar with those words, as they described the sort of land they were about to try and break, to make a life for themselves.

There were many other descriptions on those old township plans, including the letters "PP", on northern plans from 1906. That stood for "potentially productive", meaning that it could be cleared for farmland. Most of it was never cleared because things slowed down in Canada. I suppose losing 60,000 potential farmers in WW1 didn't help, either.

Went to Ontario and was looking for Sl(oo)ugh Street but couldn't find it until a fellow westerner pointed out that down east they call it Sl(ow)ugh Street.

Dang easterners don't even know how to speak good English.

I've used a product called "BarleyBag" for years in my garden Koi ponds during the summer. It's natural and does tend to keep the algea down.

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