Honeybee Die-off Continues

 In October of 2008, MoreMarin posted a story about a mysterious mass die-off of honeybees, called Colony Collapse Disorder or CCD. Entire hives of honeybees, arguably one of nature's hardest workers, were simply dying and there was no single explanation for the cause.

Fast forward nearly two years and the problem has not abated. In fact, according to this just published article, it's gotten worse.

Honeybees are essential for pollinating huge swaths of agricultural farmland, including the tracts that sit in California's Central Valley. The bees are trucked in by the hundreds of thousands to pollinate the crops, then trucked off to another part of the country to do the same thing. Apparently this year, beekeepers had trouble finding enough viable hives to fill pollination requests in the San Joaquin Valley.

Not good news; no pollen = no food.

Now, a new study just out points to pesticide use as the most likely culprit. The researchers discovered that over 800 samples of wax and bee pollen contained 121 different types of pesticides within the samples. Bee experts worry that hive exposure to multiple pesticides--coupled with things like viruses, weather and poor nutrition--is the likely cause.

At a scientific conference held in San Francisco on Thursday, chemists hope to scrutinize the study findings and take a look at the bee die-off problem. They join U.S. federal, state and local agencies and environmental groups who are all scrambling to figure out why it's happening, and how it can be fixed.
We hope they figure it soon...for everyone's sake.
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Honeybee die-off is not a really a mystery, it's like the environment is talking to us that there is something and we must do something about it.

Mysterious Monkeys of Tampa Bay is A Facebook Phenomenon

A monkey has gone viral … on Facebook. The story dates back more than a year, when numerous sightings of a mysterious monkey were first reported around the state of Florida.

Since then, the local media has latched onto the case, with the St Petersburg Times devoting a microsite to the primate. In recent days, the story has garnered national attention, and the most recent update to a Facebook Page for the creature indicates that there have been 15,000+ new fans added in the past day thanks to coverage on the Today Show and in USA Today.

Like other infamous Facebook fugitives, fans are posting wall comments in droves, encouraging the elusive monkey to continue to fight the good fight when it comes to evading authorities. There are also the requisite mock campaign posters and lolcats knock-offs. Of course, this is all made considerably more humorous by the fact that the subject of the Fan Page is, after all, a monkey.

Facebook’s favorite primate lists his personal interests as, “Bananas, swinging through trees, messing with the popo, flinging feces, screeching at the top of my lungs, and basically hanging out with my peeps. I am also interested in the theory of relativity, and post modern art. I also like the warm sun, a cold cervesa, and a nice grouper sandwich.”
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Theses mysterious monkeys was really a phenomenon, having thousands of Facebook fans is one of the evidences.

Mystery continues | 'Your Story' heroine recognizes old farmhouse

Published: March 19, 2010 01:24 pm 


Editor’s note: The introduction to “Your Story,” Volume II, takes place in an empty farmhouse in eastern Centre County, where the heroine and her husband are doing a walk-through with a real estate agent.

The heroine isn’t interested in the house until she comes upon a mysterious door at the back of the stairway landing.

No one had mentioned the door or what could possibly lie behind it, so the heroine turns the doorknob to find a cramped hallway with an oval window. A window that hadn’t been visible from the outside of the house.

The heroine ventures into the hallway, which has small, bare rooms on either side – possibly servants’ quarters from another time.

Outside the mysterious oval window, the heroine sees snow falling, not on the trees and fields outside the house, but on a city street.

Not able to believe what she is seeing, the heroine looks again and realizes she is looking upon Johnstown, where she had grown up.

In Chapter 1, Melissa, the heroine, is looking upon the Johnstown scene through the secret window she has discovered when she sees a bank sign flashing Feb. 20, 1975.

Intrigued, she rips the window open and climbs into her past to find that no one can see her – no one but an eerie young girl who tells her this place isn’t real.

This strange world isn’t from Melissa’s memory, but the past comes to unnatural life.

The girl tells her there is something she must see before even thinking of buying the Centre County farmhouse that seems a universe away now.

Melissa shakes her head and turns to go back to her own world, but the window has disappeared.

Chapter 2

BY SHANE MCGREGOR

Melissa wheeled back around, fearing the worst from her creepy new acquaintance.

She was surprised, however, to find those wide, icy eyes blankly looking back at her.

“Come on,” she beckoned. “I’ve got something to show you.”

They walked side by side in silence, the little girl one step ahead of Melissa so as to guide the way across the gray landscape of the Flood City.

The occasional passersby offered not even a wink in their direction.

The dirty soup of melting snow and laying gravel crackled on the sidewalks beneath their feet.

The silence became too much for Melissa.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

The little girl paused before answering.

“Oh … not too far away,” she replied.

“Just right … up … there.”

Her thin, icy finger stretched out in front of her, pointing toward the upcoming intersection a half block away.

“Cedar and Sparrow. The last place I ever saw in Johnstown.”

The words barely entered Melissa’s head before she froze at the sight in front of her.

A mirror image of the little girl strolled up to the intersection, pausing diligently to look both ways before crossing the street.

But the closer the little girl came, the more Melissa noticed something different about her.

Her floral-printed blouse and jumper were brighter, more lively, than the gloomy aura of Melissa’s temporary tour guide.

The cheery little girl was half-skipping down the sidewalk, smiling and humming a sing-song tune under her breath, when the van pulled up.

Dark gray, rusted, and creaking, the large van rubbed against the curb as it pulled up to the little girl and a window rolled down.

A scruffy voice, barely loud enough for Melissa to hear, called out to the little girl on the sidewalk.

“Sweetheart, I think I’m lost. Could you help me with some directions?”

The little girl paused, carefully surveying the situation, before telling the man she could.

“Oh, why thank you, sweetheart. I’m looking for Franklin Street …”

“That’s easy, mister – just keep going over the bridge,” the little girl piped up in response.

“What’s that you say?”

“Just keep going over the bridge, mister, it’s right over the –”

“I’m sorry, honey, my hearing is bad in my right ear – I’m an old man, you see. Would you mind stepping a bit closer?”

But the two little black shoes didn’t even make it to the curb before the passenger door swung open and a large, powerful hand grabbed the little girl by her tiny arm and yanked her into the van.

Melissa yelped in surprise just as a blood-curding scream unfurled from the little girl’s throat. The passenger door shut just as quickly as it opened, and the gray van sped off through the intersection.

Mortified, Melissa turned to the gloomy little girl still standing on her left.

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! What did they do –”

But the little girl beside her did not jump, did not scream, and did not panic at the sight – a moviegoer who has already seen the film.

“Take my hand,” the girl replied calmly.

She led Melissa over to the closest house on the street, an old brown box of a thing that had been abandoned for years.

Her pulse couldn’t help but quicken as the little girl cracked open the creaky door with one twist of the doorknob.

“Don’t be afraid,” said the little girl, expressionless.

“Just come in.”

Melissa closed her eyes as the little hand pulled her into the musty darkness.

Still shaken from the sight she had just witnessed, she wasn’t sure she could handle what might be waiting inside this house.

But the creaky, splintered floor that she expected to step onto never appeared.

“Is this grass?” Melissa opened her eyes at once, and the brightness of the scene surprised her.

This wasn’t a creaky old house in Johnstown.

Fifty yards ahead of her, a ramshackled farmhouse stood in the fading light of the sunset.

The house looked rundown and rustic – but familiar. Melissa turned to the little girl, hand still locked with hers, and was just about to speak when she recognized the house in front of her.

And just as she and her husband had done a few hours ago, an old, gray van rolled down the gravel driveway and parked next to the old farmhouse.



Writing Chapter 3

The Tribune-Democrat and the Centre Daily Times of State College are collaborating to bring another “Your Story” to the region’s writers.

To submit an entry, pick up the story thread where it ends today and take the story forward.

Submit your entry for Chapter 3, up to 700 words, by noon Friday.

Entries can be e-mailed to Renée Carthew, Features Editor, at rcarthew@tribdem.com; sent by fax to 539-1409; or mailed to The Tribune-Democrat, 425 Locust St., P.O. Box 340, Johnstown, Pa. 15907-0340.

Judges at each paper will pick two finalists each week and send them to an independent panel of judges that will pick the winner.

The winning chapter and a short story about the author will be published in both papers on April 4, and then the process will begin again.

The goal is a five-chapter story, and how it proceeds is up to you, the readers.

The ongoing story will appear on The Tribune-Democrat’s Web site – www.tribdem.com.
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Maybe bit not satisfied and want more of this story, just go to the source and enjoy reading.