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|“I can’t tell you I would be so principled if I was having a hard time selling,” Mr. Barnett said. “We are not desperate to sell at all costs.”|
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Float like a butterfly. Literally.
|the creature from the swimming pool|
I was out in the courtyard playing fetch with my cat when she stopped in mid-scamper and poked her head through the fence around the swimming pool. It takes a lot to distract her from chasing hair ties so I went over to look, too.
A butterfly had fallen in the pool…
…and the only reason Cat was interested in it, was because it was still alive.
I got a kitchen strainer and fished it out.
|Aside from being damp, it looked to be in good condition. I figured I’d let it dry off and then it would flap off to wherever butterflies go at night.|
|Cat was very interested in the butterfly. I was sure her interest was largely gustatory in nature.|
|No, Cat, that is not a kitty treat. Leave it alone.|
|The butterfly flapped around for a bit. It seemed dry, but did not take flight.|
I did take a chance to observe the butterfly closely.
It seemed a little world weary. Maybe it needed more rest.
After poking around on the Internet (where everything is true, of course), I determined this was a Monarch Butterfly (Danaus plexippus), likely on its southern migration to Mexico.
|This particular butterfly was a lady butterfly. Gentlemen butterflies (like there on the left) have two spots on the hind wings from which they release pheremones.|
Here are some pictures from Wikipedia of the butterfly wintering grounds.
|The butterflies set out on their southward migrations in August and reach their destination by the end of October. When the weather warms up, they fly north again for the summer.|
|At the wintering grounds, the butterflies routinely cover trees, bending boughs with their weight.|
|NOT a kitty treat!|
|I got a jar of warmish-hot water and placed the strainer and butterfly on top. I figured the steam would warm up the butterfly so it could take off and fly into the dangerzone with Kenny Loggins and do whatever it is that butterflies do.|
The steam seemed to help as the butterfly became more active, hopping and flapping about. It still did not take wing. In spite of my curmudgeonly nature, I made a small amount of simple syrup and put it in a tiny bowl for the butterfly to drink from.
That’s a tiny built-in butterfly straw it’s using to sip the syrup. After eating(?), the butterfly seemed in even better shape, but was still in no hurry to leave, much like that house guest that stays too long and drinks too much (of your booze). Like the house guest, the butterfly now required a couch to crash on.
|I put a paper towel at the bottom of the jar and poured in some syrup. I ushered the butterfly into the jar, constructed a paper towel roof, and then put the jar in the kitchen.|
|By morning, it had sufficiently slept off its sugar high. It was flexing its wings and did not seem to have a hangover of any sort. I put it outside on a potted plant.|
|And then my cat ate it.|
|It flew off into the morning, to do whatever it is that butterflies do.|
|in other news of the world|
My cue has returned.
I have not practiced nor played in the time that my cue has been away, but now that it’s back, it’s time to cram for some upcoming competitions. Hopefully I have not forgotten how to play…