It’s rainy today and the high is only
84°, a bit cooler than it was yesterday, when we were at the Nebraska State
Fair.
Here’s a story from Joanna, who works
in a boutique uptown called Lavender Thyme:
A mother came with her children, an
older girl around 13 years old, and a boy about 10.
The sister found a baby necklace and
asked, “You’re telling me babies’ necks are this small?”
Her younger brother confidently
answered, “Babies don’t have necks yet.” 😆
It was hot
every day last week, with high temperatures in the 90s and heat indices 10-15°
higher. In spite of that, I often have a
small space heater on as I blow-dry and curl my hair, because my feet are cold.
😄
Be sure that
never happened in the BCBC days. (Before
Cold-Brew Coffee) I made a fresh jug of cold-brew
coffee last week – this time, Raspberry White Chocolate. Another excellent flavor from Aroma Ridge.
Not very
many birds have been visiting the bird feeders the last few days. This is common, this time of year, as there
are seeds, ripe berries and grains, and tasty insects everywhere the birds
look. All they have to do is fly with
their beaks open, and they’re a-gonna swallow a bug. Just ask the swallows and the kingbirds.
Wednesday morning, I heard an ad on Rural
Radio with the final line as follows:
“Don’t get caught flatfooted when the market takes a turn for the
worst!”
The ‘worst’?
Arrgghhh. I live amongst country
hicks.
It was Carolyn’s 9th birthday that
day. We had been invited to her birthday
party, which would be Friday night; so in the meantime I sent her half a dozen
animated eCards with cats and kittens on them.
Victoria sent several pictures of Larry and
me with baby Carolyn the day after she was born, when we stopped at the
hospital to see them. We were on our way
home from southern Kansas, where we’d gone to get a big scissor lift.
I had a sunburn, because we’d gotten stalled
out for hours the previous day in the town of Atchison in eastern Kansas, north
of Kansas City along the Missouri River.
While Larry fixed the brakes on the
trailer we were towing, I had hiked the walks of the riverside park.
The lack of brakes had made itself
known on a steep downhill street covered with gravel, which gave little traction. There was a stop light at the bottom of the hill. It had turned red, and a couple of cars were waiting
in line. If there hadn’t have been a left
turning lane, we would’ve knocked those cars crashity-bang right into the busy intersection!
The pickup’s tires were locked and
sliding, but the heavy trailer was pushing us along without mercy. Yikes.
It was 95° Wednesday, with the wind blowing at
20 mph. A ‘gentle breeze’, or so said one
of my weather apps. It didn’t feel
like a ‘gentle breeze’ as I walked out to the car that evening to go to church,
and my hair was all in a tumbleweed around my head.
I forgot all about ‘gentle breezes’ and even tumbleweed hairdos, though,
when I walked into a huge spiderweb stretching from tree to tree in the front
yard. I had successfully avoided two
smaller webs between other trees, but did not see this one at all. Ugh!
I wondered if the people who sat behind me in church would be distracted
by the builder of said web, should she decide to go strolling down my back.
Before walking into the sanctuary to sit down, I said to a young friend,
“I have a strange question.” She looked
at me and waited. “Do I have spiderwebs
in my hair?” I asked, and explained about walking through one in my yard.
She laughed, looked me over, proclaimed me web-free, and commiserated,
“We have those things all over our yard, too!”
Did you know that young male spiders spin webs just like female spiders
do – but once they reach maturity, most types of male spiders no longer do
so? Instead, they wander, looking for a
mate. They then utilize the ‘hunt and
pounce’ method to grab prey, and they sometimes, depending on the species,
‘share’ a web with their female mate, if she will tolerate them.
Most male spiders barely live a year, if that. Many female spiders, on the other hand, live
to the ripe old age of two and even three years of age.
When I went out to collect the bird feeders late that night, the
neighbor cat we call ‘Kitty Chaplin’ (for obvious reasons) was out there,
sitting on the retaining wall big as you please, looking like a stone
lion. I called to him, and he ‘Meow!
Meow! Meow!’ed all the way up the steps to the deck, telling me he was coming,
coming, coming! I petted him, told him
to wait a minute, and went in and got him a little dab of cheese. I could hear him at the patio door telling me
to ‘Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!’
Thursday
morning after rehanging the bird feeders, showering, shining the bathroom back
up, playing the piano, making myself a tall mug of Raspberry-White Chocolate
cold-brew coffee, blow-drying and curling my hair, starting a load of laundry,
and eating breakfast, I headed upstairs to my quilting studio to continue
working on the Maple Leaf blocks.
That
evening, Hannah, who with Joanna was at the Grand Island fairgrounds setting up
her booth for their Lilla Rose hair accessories, sent pictures of the ribbons
on my quilts – including a surprise ribbon/rosette on the Soaring Eagle quilt
from NACQJ, which I had never heard of before.
“! What in the world does all that mean?”
I queried, looking it up even as I texted.
“National Association of Certified Quilt Judges?” Then, “Wow, look at this: About the Award.”
Joanna, though, was already giving me
her best answer: “I think what it means
is one of the judges has a special piece of paper in his back pocket and he gives
you that special piece of paper if he especially feels like it.”
Hee hee That girl.
Here’s a little part of the
explanation, from their webpage:
The
NACQJ Award of Merit
is distinct from traditional show awards. Rather than competing with Best in Show or
category placement ribbons, this recognition identifies a quilt that serves as
an exemplar—one that showcases mastery worth studying, techniques worth
learning, or approaches worth emulating.
A quilt may receive this recognition
when it demonstrates excellence in an area such as:
·
Outstanding
Design: Thoughtful composition, innovative use of
color, pattern, or structure that elevates the visual and conceptual impact
·
Innovation: Creative
problem-solving or original approaches that advance quiltmaking and inspire new
possibilities
·
Exceptional
Technique: Mastery of specific methods such as (but not
limited to) piecing, appliqué, quilting, embellishment—executed at the highest
level
The
Award of Merit is not a consolation award. A quilt that receives the NACQJ Award of Merit
Recognition may also win show ribbons, or it may not have placed due to
category competition or judging criteria, but it has distinguished itself as
having something meaningful to teach the quilting community.
The Recognition
·
Personalized
letter from the
judge detailing specifically what makes the quilt significant
·
Quilt
show gallery card and ribbon
·
Quilt’s
image and information featured in
three places on NACQJ social media: nacqj.com (Website), the National Association of
Certified Quilt Judges (Facebook), and nacqj2015 (Instagram)
This
recognition serves NACQJ's mission to elevate standards in quiltmaking through
education, observation, and the celebration of exceptional work.
Well.
I feel terribly important, of course; but fame and
fortunate would be nice.
Ah, well! We take what we can get! 😅
I then found a picture of the
judges. There were 15 of them, all
women. I sent the picture to Joanna,
writing, “Here are the judges! You
should’ve said, ‘...in her pocket.’”
😄
Here’s
Joanna standing by her quilt, and just across the aisle is Nathanael’s quilt. I’m surprised these quilts didn’t get
overlapped by other quilts any more than they are, as there were 581 quilts on
display – about 100 more this year than last year.
Friday, the
temperature got up to 93°, with a heat index of around 110°. The humidity was 72%, and the dew point was
73°, well into the uncomfortable-to-miserable range. We were issued a heat advisory.
An elderly
quilting friend posted a meme which reads as follows: “I just witnessed a lady throw away the
center of a cinnamon roll. The center of
a cinnamon roll. The greatest bite of
the cinnamon roll. The reason you get
the cinnamon roll. The center. Of the cinnamon roll. This world is full of monsters. Monsters.”
I have a Cinnamon Roll Story. To be precise, I have a Center of the
Cinnamon Roll Story:
We were in high school, Larry and I, and we
ate lunch together every day.
There was a cook there who made the most
delightful cinnamon rolls I ever did taste in my life, I do believe. They were always warm and soft. She’d make them once or twice a week.
One day it was Cinnamon-Roll Day. We went through the line, filled our trays,
walked to our table, and ate lunch hurriedly (didn’t want the cinnamon rolls to
get cold!), and picked up our cinnamon rolls.
Larry ate his, fasssst.
I unwound mine, eating it carefully, savoring
every bite. I liked to save the best –
the warm, gooey middle – for last.
So there we sat around the table with our
friends... chatting... eating... and I had that last bite in my fingers,
polishing up my chops, anticipating...
...
...
...
And Larry leaned over and ate that thing
right out of my hand.
I
married him just to give me more opportunities to get even.
(It took me a minute or two to find a good
picture of a yummy-looking cinnamon roll.
Many look overdone and dried out.
Don’t cooks know that it’s a serious crime to overcook cinnamon
rolls?! And it’s just as serious to undercook
them. They must be just right.)
That
evening, we went to Carolyn’s birthday party. Here she is immediately after opening the box
with her quilt inside. Their daddy Kurt is holding it
up so Carolyn (and Violet and Willie) can properly view it from the front. Victoria is on the right, with baby Russell. Kurt’s younger sister Wendy is on the left,
and a little cousin is at the far right.
When we
were leaving, Willie called after us, “Thank you for giving her (waving a hand
in his sister’s general direction) such a nice present!”
Little
brother Arnold, a good little parakeet, called out the same. 😆
Makes me
anxious to give them theirs! 😃
Saturday, I spent the majority of the day
piecing the last of the Maple Leaf blocks, finishing just before suppertime. Now to put these background blocks together,
and after that, I’ll start on the Dresden flowers and butterflies.
For supper that evening, I cooked ground
venison, adding spices until it was so good, it would’ve been scrumptious all
by itself; then I added it to some Bear Creek dried soup that had vegetables,
pasta, lentils, rice, and barley in it.
Yum, it was sooo good.
As for Bear Creek dried soup, I had ordered
several varieties with my last grocery order from Walmart. One was slated to arrive via USPS. On Thursday, I received an email from Walmart
informing me that it had arrived and was on my front porch.
It was not.
I clicked ‘Tracking’ and checked out the
matter on the USPS website, where the package was listed as having been
‘Delivered to Mailbox’.
It was not in the mailbox, either.
I waited the requisite two days, then
initiated a chat with a Walmart ‘agent’.
It begins with AI: “Hi Sarah, I’m your customer support
assistant. What can I help you with?”
I started typing. I am not a slow typist. But AI, apparently standing for ‘Artificial
Impatience’, interrupted to ask again, “How can I help you today?
I plugged in the order number and
item, and wrote, “I did not receive this item.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get your item,”
stated the bot. “I’ll help you with
that.”
A long pause, and then, “Next Step” Another lengthy pause. Then, “To get started, could you tell me
which order this is about? If you have
the order number, please share it. If
not, I can show you a list of your recent orders to pick from. Which would you prefer?”
I had already done just that; so, in
order to make life more interesting, I wrote, “Show me a list.”
Walmart bot: “Here’s a list of your recent orders. Please pick the order that’s missing an item,
and I’ll help you from there.”
Pause... “If you don’t see the
right order, let me know and I can show more.”
I clicked on the order. “Thanks
for sharing the order number,” wrote the bot.
Then, “Which Item Is Missing?” (I wonder why it kept shouting, in bold
font?) “Could you tell me the name of
the item from this order that you didn’t receive? If there’s more than one missing, just list
them all.”
Maybe the third time would be the
charm. “Bear Creek vegetable soup,” I
stated.
At this point, the bot wrote, “A live
agent can help with the refund or replacement for your Bear Creek vegetable
soup. Would you like me to connect you
to someone who can assist you further?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“I can connect you with an associate,”
wrote the bot. “How should we contact
you?”
“Via chat,” I responded, upon which
this popped up: (1 min wait)
“You’ll be connected to an agent
shortly,” said Walmart’s AI generated chatbot. “Please remain on the page while we transfer
you.”
After several minutes, the chat
pinged, and I received this: “Good
news! Our agent Syed has joined the conversation.”
Whether or not that was good news
remained to be seen.
Two minutes later: “We’re transferring you to an agent now. Thanks again for your patience. We estimate your remaining wait time is: 0 minutes.”
So much for the agent joining the
conversation, huh?
Another two or three minutes passed,
and then someone wrote, “Hi Sarah, thank you for contacting Walmart. My name is Syed. I see you are reaching out about a missing
item, Bear Creek vegetable soup, from order 200015151556971. How can I best assist you with this today?”
“I would like either a replacement or
a refund,” I replied.
A couple more minutes ticked by. Then, “I sincerely apologize for the
inconvenience that you have faced with an incomplete order but please do not
worry as I will take care of your concern like my own and will try to have this
issue resolved with my best ability.”
I’m not sure that’s English, but...
okay? Since no question was asked, I did
not answer.
Nevertheless, Syed wrote, “Thank you
so much for confirming that! I
appreciate your understanding just give me a few seconds while I check into the
next steps for you.”
What did I confirm, I wonder?
More time passed before he or she said
anything else. (Is ‘Syed’ a male or
female name, and in what language? Okay,
time out, time out; I gotta look that up.)
Huh, look at this:
‘Syed’ is a male name used in Arabic
and Urdu.
About the Name
·
Gender: Male.
·
Meaning: It means ‘lord,’ ‘master,’ or ‘chieftain’.
·
Origin: It is an honorific
title used by Muslim men who claim descent from the Islamic prophet Muhammad
through his daughter Fatimah and grandson Husayn. (Do they name themselves??)
·
Languages: It is common in Arabic, Urdu, Persian, and
other languages spoken in Muslim communities around the world. The female equivalent is usually Sayeda
or Syeda.
Would you like to know about other related
honorific titles or common variations of this name?
Oops, I misread that last sentence as ‘other related horrific titles’, haha.
Back to the issue at hand:
Syed finally wrote, “I really
appreciate you waiting patiently as this is taking a bit longer than expected. Please be assured that I am still working on
your issue and will make sure that it is resolved. I would please request you to allow me a
couple of more minutes to get this sorted out for you.”
I said nothing, so as not to boggle
any brains. It didn’t help, as just
fifteen seconds later Syed wrote, “Thank you so much for your patience, Sarah. I’m truly sorry for the oversight, I
understand how disappointing it must be to receive an incomplete order. Frankly, I’m quite embarrassed that we missed
an item. Please be assured that this
would not go under the rug and we will surely monitor the situation of the
stores from now on.”
That was the first clue to the error
he was making: The item was not missed
at the local store and left out of the order we picked up; rather, it alone,
that one item, was lost somewhere between a warehouse and my house. It was, however, from the same order
number.
He continued before I realized
this: “In the meantime, to make this
right, I’d love to issue a $6.45 refund for the missing item would that be okay
with you?”
That wasn’t the right amount. I clicked on the order to make sure, but before
I could give him the correct price, he asked, “How would you like to receive
it? • Walmart balance: Available within 3 hours • Original payment: Discover card (Credited within 10 business
days depending on your financial institution)”
I found the amount and told him, “It
was $7.17. And Walmart balance is fine.”
He then informed me, “I am giving you
the exact amount of refund of this item Sarah I really wanted to be honest with
you and did not want to give you any false expectation this is why I mirrored
all the details that were visible on my end.”
He ‘mirrored’ all the details? He didn’t even find the details, and
he knew it. And he sounded slightly
antagonistic, besides.
I did my own ‘mirror’, copying and
pasting the details straight from the Order page:
Bear Creek Country Kitchens Vegetable
Beef Soup Mix, 8 Servings, Shelf-Stable, 8.1 oz Pouch, Multipack Quantity: 1
(How can a ‘multipack’ be in a quantity of 1?
The person who writes up the description must be of the same caliber as
Syed, brainwise. Continuing...) 88.5¢/oz
Qty 1 (because ‘Quantity’ and ‘Qty’ are two different things, eh) $1.64
from savings, $7.17, Was $8.81.
Syed, pretending to not see this,
happily shared, “I’m happy to share that I’ve processed a refund of ‘$6.45’ to
your Walmart Refund Credit Card, and you should see the funds appear within 3
hours or less. You’ll be able to use
this credit instantly to place a new order if needed.”
“There it is, above ^ – $7.17,” I told
him. “That’s copied and pasted directly from
the Orders page.”
“No worries I am giving you some extra
refund as well,” said Syed.
Would his boss be worried, I
wondered? I waited to see what would
happen next.
After a few more minutes, he informed
me, “Original payment method(s) $9.8 CREDITCARD Credited within 10 business
days depending on your financial institution.”
A pause, then, “Now you will have
$6.45 in your WALMART refund and $9.8 refund in your credit card, can you
please check your email and confirm if you received it?”
I obediently looked at my email, then
told him, “Yes, I have received it, but now you’ve given me too much!”
He never had found the correct
item. Instead, he’d grabbed two items
from the pick-up order that he thought would add up to somewhere ‘close
enough’:
Then, when that didn’t seem to satisfy
me, he’d grabbed two more items. These two
added up to more than the correct amount, and this time he applied it to
my credit card:
Syed launched into accolade and
acclaim: “Your satisfaction matters a
lot to me, I must say, if there were stars for amazing customers, you’d be a
glowing 5/5 in my book because people like you make tough days feel lighter. I
really hope I was able to make your day a little better too.”
Wow.
And I didn’t even do anything.
He wasn’t done with the bonhomie, either:
“You are absolutely welcome.” (I hadn’t even said ‘thank you’ yet!) “If there’s anything else I can help you with
to ensure this chat meets your expectations completely, please don’t hesitate
to let me know? If you are satisfied
with my service please do share your thoughts on email as it really means a
lot.”
“Okay, thank you,” I responded; “but I
didn’t need more than I had coming.”
That brought on even more laud and
homage: “Thank you for being so sweet
and understanding. I really appreciate
it, I hope your interaction with me has been a pleasant one. You were speaking to Syed. I would request you to please keep an eye on
your email.” (I already did that.) “I’ll be ending this chat now. Have a great day and take care!”
I had no chance to add anything
further before this popped up: “Your
agent has left the conversation. You can close this chat window now or send
another message to be connected to another agent.”
Somebody needs to train or retrain that ‘agent’. Syed, as it turns out, is neither a ‘lord’, nor a ‘master’,
nor a ‘chieftain’ when it comes to finding the missing items in a Walmart
delivery and issuing a correct refund.
Very many more ‘Syeds’ on their payroll, and Walmart is going to go under! (Maybe that’s Syed’s and his cronies’ agenda. Do I need to report the matter?)
A little
before 8:00 a.m. Sunday morning, a thunderstorm was passing over us, and the
rain had just started. The high that day
would be 85°, and it was already 73°. The
big-leafed Autumn lily hostas along the walk to the drive collect what seems
like gallons of water when it rains, hold it carefully, and then gleefully dump
it all over the legs and shoes of anybody who tries to walk alongside them.
Friday
night as I walked from the car to the front porch, I wound up with something else
those plants collect: a giant bumblebee!
They like to spend their nights snoozing
inside the big white blossoms, and I’d brushed against it.
Unknowing,
I went into the bedroom to don pjs, started pulling off my top -- and, with a
loud buzz of protestation, that big bumblebee went lumbering off toward the
ceiling! It’s a wonder he didn’t protest
by poking his stinger into me.
Wait...
((...looking something up...)) Okay, I’m
wrong about that. It’s the male bumblebees
who sleep overnight inside flowers, under leaves, and along stems; females
return to the nest. And males don’t
sting.
Having
sorted that out, I got back in gear, continuing my preparations for church.
The rain
had nearly stopped by the time we walked out to the car, so only legs and shoes
got wet. Before stepping into the
Mercedes, I grabbed a tissue and wiped my shoes off. The nylons were dry enough that their dampness
didn’t show by the time we got to church a few minutes later, though I felt slightly
soggy around the extremities for a time.
It was
granddaughter Eva’s 6th birthday.
We gave her a gift Sunday night after church – a lightboard.
Yesterday,
I was hoping we could leave for the Nebraska State Fair early enough to try
some of the breakfast foods certain vendors offer; but Larry needed to pick up
a fuel pump for Levi’s car at a parts place in town before we left, wouldn’t
you know. He’d ordered it Saturday
evening, and was told it would be in at about 10:30 a.m.
Sigghhhh.... Don’t remind me of
all the times we didn’t get to the fair until it was so late, we hardly had
time to see anything. I said, Don’t
remind me!!!
I blow-dried
my hair, sipped Raspberry White Chocolate cold-brew coffee, and listened to one
of the funnier Rural Radio announcers, who, after doing a First-Rate
Spoonerism, diagnosed himself with ‘Monday Morning Mushmouth’, hee hee. There are other broadcasters who make more
mistakes than he does, but they simply continue on with aplomb, while he stops
and mocks at himself – “I need more coffee!”, thus calling unnecessary
attention to the blunder, when the majority of his listeners probably hadn’t
even noticed.
Speaking of blunders, I found this sentence
amongst a set of comments on Facebook:
“idk why they wouldn’t of not went through normal procedures.”
Now, that’s
pathetic.
A little
after 10:30 a.m., we headed to town to pick up the aforementioned fuel pump,
after which we continued on to the State Fair in Grand Island. It was hot and muggy, with a high of 94°. We arrived around noon, and decided to go into
the big Quilt Room first, in the hopes that it wouldn’t be as crowded as it
usually is later in the afternoon of the last day of the fair. It actually wasn’t too bad at all. I did my best to take pictures of every
single quilt.
I had
earlier gone through the list of food vendors to see what foods we (ahem, I)
might like to try. Larry prefers to
stick to the old tried-and-true foods he knows he likes. But I like to try new things (within reason,
mind you!); so sometimes I have to work up a good sales talk to get Larry on
board.
Not this time, though. After we’d
been there for a couple of hours, and were hot and hungry and thirsty, we got a
carton of jalapeño, beef, and cheese nachos, with a tall glass of
fresh-squeezed lemonade, and shared both.
It was hot, and cold, and yummy, and kept us going for another couple of
hours, through the Souvenir Shop, the arena (which we entered just in time to
hear a lady singing The Star-Spangled Banner), and the Sheep Barn.
We walked back to the car so I could change from sandals to Asics
walking shoes, and so we could drink some of our ice-cold Celsius and cold-brew
coffee (for me), and Thompson Irish iced tea (for Larry), carrying mugs of it
back into the fairgrounds to go with whatever we decided to eat, as we were
hungry again.
We decided on a bison burger. We
asked the man who was making the burgers to slice it down the middle for
us. Half a burger was plenty for each of
us.
We looked at the cows and the sheep, though many people were already
gathering their animals into livestock trailers and departing. In the Nursery, we saw tiny piglets, calves, ducklings,
chicks, and kids. A Landrace-Yorkshire
sow named Dolly had 23 piglets on the 4th, and another named Violet
had 19 piglets on the 6th.
One nanny had twins, and they were both sound asleep, curled up in their
mother’s shallow round feeding pan. 😄 A Jersey cow named Nellie had a one-day-old
calf named Carol.
Next, we went to Scoops Parlor, where Larry got Strawberry Cheesecake
ice cream in a waffle cone, and I got Cherry Nut ice cream in a waffle cone.
Then off we went again to look at the campers, after which we went into
the Textiles & Crafts building. In addition to the
near-record number of quilts in the Quilt Room, there were many quilted items
in the Textiles area. In that big building
were also displays of flowers and produce, woodworking crafts, photography,
paintings, and so much more. Last year,
we didn’t get to see this division, as we got there too late.
As we
started heading out of this huge maze-like building late yesterday afternoon, I
was surprised to discover a big room across the main hallway full of quilts by
4H kids around the state. I was happy to
see so many beautiful quilts by so many children and young people from age 8 up
to age 18. Here’s a small sample of those
quilts. There were barn quilts
in this room, too, also made by 4Hers.
I was
particularly impressed with a couple of very large diamond pictures. The Mandala Elephant picture is 38” x 44”,
and the Battlefield Cross picture is 26” x 45”.
Both were done by Macy Diehl.
A diamond
picture (or diamond painting) is a mosaic picture made up of small, faceted
plastic or resin gems placed onto a pre-printed, sticky canvas. It creates a sparkly image especially when
viewed in the right light. The canvas is
covered in a sticky adhesive and printed with a color-coded chart or symbols. The diamonds are tiny colorful rhinestones with
a flat bottom and a faceted top that catches the light. Using a special stylus dipped in wax, each
gem is picked up and placed onto its matching symbol on the canvas, much like
paint-by-number.
The Battlefield
Cross picture was made from a photograph, which Macy Diehl then sent to a
company that makes up the kit from which these ‘paintings’ are created. If you zoom in, perhaps you can see the tiny
little rhinestones that make up the picture.
I had not known such things were done, until I saw some at the Platte
County Fair – and they were in a bit of a dark corner in a big cabinet, so I
did not see what the work consisted of until a friend commented on it, and I
zoomed in on my own photo. I was quite
surprised! – I’d thought it was cross-stitching!
In one area of the huge Crafts &
Textiles building, there was a large display of succulents. Here’s a beautiful plant I’d never seen
before. It’s an Aeonium arboreum, commonly
known as a tree aeonium or Irish rose.
I took a total of 786 photos and 6 videos at
the State Fair yesterday.
A quilting
friend from upstate New York whom I’ve known for a good 20 years posted a photo,
writing, “It’s good to know there are people like me out there.” It’s a picture of an older woman handing a
wildlife rehabilitator a box with a curled up brown furry thing in it.
The caption: In 2024, a woman in Cheshire, England, found
what she believed was a cold baby hedgehog on a pavement. She placed it in a warm box with cat food
overnight. When it still had not moved
by morning, she took it to a wildlife hospital, where staff discovered it was a
hat pompom. 🤣
FYI: When rescuing sick or injured wild animals or
birds, do not give them food or water; let the rehabber take care of that. Offerings of food might be from the wrong
source; and, depending on what’s wrong with the animal, they might not even be
able to tolerate water, but might need an intravenous of one sort or another.
This morning Hester sent me a video: Keira and Oliver had found a monarch caterpillar
over a week ago, and put it into Keira’s nifty little Bug House. It soon made a chrysalis – and it emerged yesterday!
Did you know that chrysalises are made by
butterflies, while cocoons are made by moths (and some other insects)? A chrysalis is the actual transformed outer
skin (exoskeleton) of the insect itself.
A cocoon is an external layer of silk spun around the body. A chrysalis is hard, smooth, and rigid. A cocoon is soft and fuzzy, or paper-like and
fibrous. A chrysalis usually hangs down
from a twig or leaf. A cocoon is often
hidden in leaf litter, buried in the ground, or attached to a flat surface.
When the butterfly seemed well able to fly,
they brought the Bug House to the front porch, and Keira, age 8, pulled aside
the little door. The butterfly fluttered
its wings – and within seconds, it was out the door and onto a nearby bush,
where it waved its wings experimentally, and then sailed up and away. Keira was laughing in delight.
Meanwhile, in the background, Oliver, 4,
asked in some concern, “Why did it go out?”
And then, in alarm, “Wait! I need to
catch it!” And “Let’s go catch it!” hee hee
Poor Oliver, he evidently thought he had a pet – and then it got
away!
I was so amazed when one of my
schoolteachers showed us closeups of a butterfly’s wings with all those tiny
scales, and told us that the ‘dust’ that gets on our hands when we catch a
butterfly is actually those scales (microscopic hairs), and that if enough come
off, it can hurt the butterfly and hinder its flight.
I never caught another butterfly,
ever.
I sent these pictures to Hester for
Keira and Oliver.
She wrote back, “We don’t usually catch
butterflies since it will hurt their wings, but sometimes we get caught up in
the chase. 😂”
It makes me laugh, every time I watch
the video. After all, first the
caterpillar, and then the butterfly, was theirs, in that cute little pink
bug house; and then all of a sudden, it wasn’t, anymore! “Catch it!!!”
haha
Speaking of bees and butterflies and spiders,
as if it’s not bad enough that there are spiders lying wait for me in my
own yard, this morning there was a big ol’ wolf spider right in the kitchen
sink!!! Aiiiiyiiiiieeee.
Here are those cute little twin kids – baby
goats – we saw in the Nursery. They were
sooo tiny!
Time to hit the hay.
,,,>^..^<,,, Sarah Lynn ,,,>^..^<,,,
