Because the thought occurred now and it might be gone tomorrow
Who doesn’t like a fuzzy little caterpillar, even if they might have small amounts of toxin in their barbs? I noticed this on my rain barrel as I was tending to my pumpkins:
It would appear to be an American dagger moth. I reviewed a number of sites, but the general consensus is that it’s pretty benign, content to simply munch on a few tree leaves. Very well, young moth. You may stay, but I shall not extend such courtesies to your hornworm cousins.
–Simon
We’re starting to get more tomatoes. Granted many of them are because we cheated and bought plants, but it makes a good opportunity to try some new varieties.
Yellow Boy: Sweeter and less acidic
Black Prince: Mediocre and they tend to rot on the vine
Indigo Rose: Somewhere between a cherry tomato and a typical Big Boy, both in terms of size and taste
Pink Girl: I like this one the best so far–sweet and with a nice soft texture (sort of awkwardly validating its name I suppose)
Mr. Stripey: Haven’t tried it yet, but it looks pretty:
And, we received our first pear tomatoes, and these are genuine grown-from-seed heirlooms. They remain high on my personal preference.
Even the little princess enjoys humbling herself to do a little gardening. I take advantage of those youthful eyes to find what my aging ones miss. Here she is looking over the Black Prince (there’s a joke in there somewhere):
–Simon
During the Lubbock years, mom grew a lot of dill. I don’t recall her ever using it, but I do remember her saying that she mainly grew it for the swallowtail butterflies, as they had a preference for it. I still remember those beautiful little creatures and their iconic striped larvae.
So I’m naturally pleased whenever I see them now. They had a fondness of my garden a few years back.
Recently, as I went to harvest some dill for my pickling endeavor, I noticed one of these little caterpillars, so permanently etched into memory.
But, despite me actively using the dill, he can stay.
–Simon
A month ago, we had picked up some old wooden boxes for a strawberry garden. My own experience with strawberries generally went like this: I would plant some plants, watch hopefully as some berries grew, then collapsed in despair as the day they ripen an insect had beat me to them. But Liz was hopeful.
And her hopes were not dashed upon the rocks. This last weekend I was tending to my garden and saw these (tasty):
Aside from the Japanese beetles, the bugs have been rather merciful to our produce. In light of these successes, garden expansion plans are in discussion.
–Simon
Time and chance have yielded again some pleasing aesthetic fragments:
–Simon