Two weeks ago I harvested the last of our brocolli from our garden. It was riddled with green caterpillars. Evie had collected a fair few of them and put them in a mesh cage, (with the hope that they would pupate into butterflies).
This didn’t exactly go to plan. Most of the caged caterpillars were infected by a parasitic wasp and the resulting emergence of its larva wouldn’t be out of place in a Ridley Scott film.
One was left and had started to pupate in the cage but we noticed that there was another one attached to the window in our kitchen where an escapee caterpillar had chanced its luck.
We went away this weekend and came back this afternoon to the sight a newly formed cabbage (muncher) white butterfly emeging out of its chrysalis.
There never was a happier girl.
Evie has taken on the task of letting the hens out in the morning.
Today I noticed that the keys to the hen pen were missing. After scouring the house I gave up and decided to collect the eggs…
…and found a lovely warm set of keys under one of our hens.
Evie has been on her Brownie pack holiday this weekend and has been sorely missed by everyone. (Especially Gruff).
I love to walk in the rain, my dog does not. Two dripping wet, soggy creatures.
No children with me, all in school, all busy. Just me and the hound.
I remember the struggles with a pram. Wellies and raincoats, puddles and wet socks.