Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Word: cull



 

cull

\ kuhl \  , verb;
1. to choose; select; pick.
2. to gather the choice things or parts from.
3. to collect; gather; pluck.
noun:
1. act of culling.
2. something culled, especially something picked out and put aside as inferior.

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“The lioness pounces on her prey, locking her jaws into the hapless victim’s neck, killing it.  In this way, she has not only fed herself and her young, but also helped to cull the herd of the sick and weak members…”  The TV announcer said as an image of a lioness taking down a zebra played on the screen.  Eddie watched this happen with rapt attention.  So much so that he didn’t notice his older brother, George come in and lean over the couch.
                “You’re watching a nature show?  Seriously?”  George asked.  Eddie was more than little startled by the sudden question, but did his best to hide it.
                “Yeah well, you how mom won’t let us watch anything violent, right?”
                “Yeah?”
                “Well, this is almost as good, and she can’t complain because it’s technically educational.”
                “Almost as good?  How?”  George asked.  Eddie just smiled and pointed to the screen.
                “An intruding male has entered the pride.  The dominant male here faces off with the intruder to defend his place.  After a brief territorial display, the two lions fight for their place, one to protect, and the other to take.”  The announcer said.
                “Oh, I get it now.”  George said as he watched the two lions duke it out.  “Good idea.”
                “Isn’t it just?  Gotta love the little loopholes.”  Eddie said, more than a little proud of himself. 
                “I have taught you well little brother.”  George said, joining Eddie on the couch.  The two brothers watched the show for a while until their mother came in.  She carried a tray with some form of homemade pastries on it.
                “And just what are you boys watching?  I hope it’s not anything violent.”  She said.
                “No mom, it’s a nature show.”  Eddie said.
                “Really?  Well, good for you then.  Always good to know you two are taking an interest in educating yourselves.”  She said.  She was beaming at her sons’ choice of programming.  She made a mental note to brag about it to the other neighborhood mothers at the next appropriate moment.  “Anyway, I’ve made a new batch of pasties, and I want your opinions on them.” 
                The two boys attention immediately went from the TV to the tray their mom was holding.  She was well known in the neighborhood for her pastries for two reasons.  One was that she never made anything conventional.  All the baked goods she made were her own unique creations.  The second was that she was very, very good at making them.  What most people didn’t know, was that not every creation turned out to be a success.  Some of them turned out downright terrible.  George, Eddie, and their dad had been designated as the taste-testers, picking out only those experiments that tasted good, and eliminating the failures.  They didn’t mind, since the pastries that turned out well turned out very well, and most of the failures weren’t exactly inedible either.  There were some that turned out bad, but those were getting increasingly rare as she continued to hone her craft.
                The brothers rushed over to see what kinds of treats their mom had made.  The tray was filled with a wide variety of goodies, some were new kinds of cookies, others looked to be stuffed with some form of cream or jelly.  Still others were covered with frosting or chocolate in colorful and creative patterns.  Eddie licked his lips and took one of the puffed pastries.  George opted for a cookie. 
Eddie put the entirety of the small, bite sized pastry in his mouth and chewed slowly.  George took a bite out of his, holding onto the other half as he rolled the bite around in his mouth. 
“What’s in this one mom?”  Eddie asked after he swallowed.
“Peanut butter, a little jelly, and just a hint of cream and sugar.” 
“It’s not bad, but it might be too complex.”  Eddie said, “Sometimes it’s better to make it simpler.  Maybe get rid of the cream?” 
“Ok, I’ll try that out.”  She said.  Thanks to her baking method, the men in her family had become very good at critiquing her pastries, and she had long since found that their opinions tended to have more positive impacts than negative.
“Um, mom, I think this one’s a no go.”  George said, looking at the remaining half of the cookie.  “It’s kind of bitter.”
“Really?  It shouldn’t be.  I think I was going for sour with that one.”
“I guess you went overboard then, and crossed from sour to bitter.  It’s no good.  Sorry mom.”
“Oh well, maybe next time.”  She said, shifting the cookies of that type to the side.  “Anyway, onto the next ones.”
The boys continued to taste their mother’s newest creations.  As the taste-test went on, more and more of them were placed aside due to being no good.  Still others were moved into a pile for alterations, while a very few were said to be good as is. 
“So boys, what’s your overall opinion this time?”  She asked once the children were finished.
“Not your best batch, mom.  But I don’t think it’s your worst either.”  George said.
“Definitely.  But this one’s really good.”  Eddie said, taking another of a chocolate puffed pastry stuffed with cream that used strawberry and pineapple juices for added flavor.
“Alright, thanks boys.  Now I just have to find your father and ask him, and we’ll be in business.  Now you two go back to your nature show.  And don’t let me catch you watching one of those violent shows on other channels.” 
“Yes, mother.”  Eddie said.  He shot his brother a sly smile as he returned to the couch.  The look was returned by George as they both sat down.
“Gotta love our mom.”  George said as he watched a pair of lion cubs play fighting.
“Yup.”  Eddie agreed.  The two brothers did their best to keep from laughing, only partially succeeding.  
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Let's hear it for the moms!  Hm, maybe I should've saved something like this for Mother's Day.  But then again, I do write quite a few things about mothers and children, don't I?  It's just such a nice topic for stories that I can't resist.  

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