Spring is arriving slowly to the high county. We attempted to go over Tin Cup Pass on Father's Day, but only got 4 miles up. At that point, the road was closed by snow drifts. Sigh, perhaps later this summer we can try again.
Jun 23, 2008
Jun 17, 2008
Why Does Ladybug Lament?
You would lament, too, if you had so many children you didn't know what to do! Oops... wrong nursery rhyme. Wait... I hear a fire siren. I must fly away home! My house is on fire and the children are home!
Hold on! They aren't suppose to be home... only Anne, since it's her week to tend the garden.
And, Just Who is Ladybug, Anyway?
What! You don't know who I am? You see me everywhere! Gardeners and Germans love me. Aphids don't. Why, you ask, do aphids not like me? Well, you see, they are my favorite food!
I am such a symbol of good luck, that Germans hang me on their Christmas Trees and make marzipan figurines of me. Think of the good luck that I can bring you if you find me sitting on a four-leaf clover.
But, I digress. If I ooze with so much good-luck, why do I keep having to fly away home? Why is my house on fire? And, what in the world are the children doing at home? They're all adults by this time of year! I hope that Anne didn't get underneath the frying pan, again.
SIGH!
You'd lament if you had my headaches, and worries, too! Laters, I'm off to tend the Garden and check on Anne.
PS: Don't step on a crack, you might break your mother's back. Oops... wrong nursery rhyme again.
Jun 13, 2008
The Beginning...
In the beginning... there were happy ladybugs everywhere! Blissfully flying here and there, eating aphids and sunning themselves in the bright sunshine. Life was good, even carefree!
But, as little ladybugs everywhere soon learn, nothing stays the same forever. It starts with perhaps a glimpse of something out of the corner of the eyes. Or, maybe, it is just a shadow from something that flew over head. Something, unknown, is about.
Little ladybugs begin to run for cover. Some fly away, fly away home. Which brings me to little Anne! Little Anne, my littlest ladybug. There she is, under the frying pan.
I, too, must fly away. The shadow has crossed my path again.
But, as little ladybugs everywhere soon learn, nothing stays the same forever. It starts with perhaps a glimpse of something out of the corner of the eyes. Or, maybe, it is just a shadow from something that flew over head. Something, unknown, is about.
Little ladybugs begin to run for cover. Some fly away, fly away home. Which brings me to little Anne! Little Anne, my littlest ladybug. There she is, under the frying pan.
I, too, must fly away. The shadow has crossed my path again.
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