Just as I begin to worry that all of the mantes we released have perished, I run into one. Today I encountered a mantis who escaped the path of my crab grass weeding and hopped onto a nearby marigold.
He quickly flipped upside down and settled in on the under side of a leaf. I’m sure I’ll see him there again soon. He is about an inch long now, three times bigger than when it hatched. The color is a kind of translucent olive green.
I love marigolds because of how readily they reseed. They flower again and again, providing endless splashes of orange ruffled blooms.
The neighbor kids have picked up on my practice of deadheading, which is to remove the spent flowers that have dried up into seed pods. Now the plant will put it’s energy toward flowering again.
I sprinkle my saved seed in the very back, against the hot block wall, where the crab grass is creeping. With time and disregard, a secret little marigold garden has bloomed behind the giant agave and red yucca. What a gift!
We are bird-sitting this week and noticing a lot of bird stuff. I am watching a show called Ghost Town Terror on Trvl channel. The show investigates haunted houses that have dead birds trapped inside.
Then I’m driving around playing my latest greatest Grateful Dead mix on Spotify and it smart shuffles a song called Bird In A House by Railroad Earth. Now this got my attention! I mean, this is not a common theme for a song, right?
When I arrive at my craniosacral session today, there are a pair of quail with five little babies just inside the gate.
I get to Iko’s house and on the front walkway is a huge brown pile of bird poop. There was so much, it had splattered onto the side of the house! I tell Iko to look and she says that was not there ten minutes ago! Whatever bird was leaving from or landing on the house, they must’ve left that just for me. How nice.
As I pull out of the driveway at the end of my session, the quail family is making its way through the yard.
We are at the Home and Garden show and need to get across the exhibit hall to the compost talk. Jason is buying rocks at a booth and showing the lady photos of his rocks. I let him know we need to go and then walk down the aisle to wait for him to finish. We are fifteen minutes late. As we walk together across the hall, he tells me to relax.
“I AM relaxed,” I assure him.
We enjoy the talk which is funny and informative (apparently I need a thermometer for my compost pile.)
Later, we are in a candy shop with novelty socks. I read aloud the pair that first catches my eye, “Bitch, I AM relaxed.” We look at each other and smile.
My cats have their own rooms in the house. Now of course you know they both take up 75% of my bed every night like it’s their job, but they need somewhere to go during the day, now don’t they?
Elvis is an underachieving office manager; he’s basically a glorified paperweight. He sits on Jason’s desk and my office chair, like, a lot. This career path has been his calling since there was paper on a desk and a human trying to read it.
Biggie claims the guest bed as his own. Today, he brought a nice big lizard into his room for fun and games! The lizard didn’t want to play. I heard him scratching at a box and when I moved it, surprise!
Luckily we were able to return the lizard back to it’s home and out of ours safely.