This is uber-surface level banter today, so don’t get your hopes up thinking I’m sharing my soul. I’ve recently been made aware of three rather decently major things that I have plum gotten wrong in life, and feel it’s only fitting that I share these with you, my loyal readers, in hopes that you will not be deceived as I have been.
Here we go, in order of importance.
The lie: these flowers are called buttercups.
NOT TRUE!!! I have for my entire life referred to these little pink wildflowers as buttercups. They’re not yellow, but whatever. Butter can be housed in a pink cup. Due to my impassioned research (I read the sign at the Wildflower Center, y’all – see photo below for it’s dang obviousness), I learned that these are Pink Evening Primroses.
This enlightenment isn’t blog post worthy, you say? I beg to differ. A) I’m very pregnant, so EVERYTHING is a big deal these days, including this. Also, B) Wildflowers are of epic importance these days because Central Texas is in bloom and I don’t want to be cooing over the wildflowers on the trails and roads, imparting my ill-gotten nomenclature to anyone within earshot. But insightful reader, you are correct: mostly A).
The lie: mosquito hawks eat mosquitoes.
NOT TRUE!!! These flighty bugs are kind of birdlike, so you know that means I’m creeped out by them at a basic level without knowing anything about their gastronomic preferences. They are really crane flies, but their nickname has always implied to me that they are hawks that eat mosquitoes (duh!), so I have tolerated and even supported their existence for many, many years, even when they sneak into my home and stick to the wall in the EXACT SAME PLACE (weirdos) for the entire day. My hope has been that they will later feast on mosquitoes, so I haven’t minded their weirdness. For the common good of a lessened mosquito population on this earth. Amen and Amen.
And it’s all a dad-gum hoax. They are not on my side, so I will no longer take pity upon them. Mosquito hawks, be forewarned: you’re dead to me.
Author’s note: It was a challenge to determine the ordering of the wildflower name or the alleged mosquito nemesis, since if there’s one thing I love in Texas, it’s wildflowers, and if there’s one thing I despise in Texas (or anywhere), it’s mosquitoes. Please know that a thoughtful amount of time went into the organization of this post, with you, dear reader, in mind.
The lie: Daylight Saving Time benefits the farmers.
(Side note: I had to include the meme above, the truth therein displayed I also recently learned, and now judge people who say “Daylight Savings Time” like they are people who say “volleyvall,” “valevictorian,” and “expecially.” And for that matter, people who don’t know how to properly use the Oxford Comma. Wake up, America.)
I read this article (posted by my old boss, Rep. Lyle Larson) that points out that the whole “we need Daylight Saving Time because it helps the farmers” is a lie from the PIT OF HELL that was perpetrated by none other than East Coast Commercialism, the Boston Chamber of Commerce. Something about more daylight for more shopping time.
All these years, I thought I was doing my duty for God and country and countryfolk by suffering through the twice-yearly phenomenon of “where am I and what day is it and what time is it and why am I so tired and for the last time, Carl, it’s spring forward and fall back!” And it’s been 100 years of this insanity. Having a toddler on a schedule, though, has brought me to my knees, and after this last round of DST adjustment, THAT’S ENOUGH. So let it be written, so let it be done, I’ll be joining the folks with torches and pitchforks and tin foil hats and whatnot at the Capitol next session, passionately advocating that we END THIS monstrosity. And you should totally join me.
So now you know, too. Do with this imparted, hard-won knowledge what you will.