I see dead dragonflies...

Before we begin this week's post, I must say thank you to everyone for their birthday wishes...although Jean and Lillian did freak me out a bit. I finished posting last week's blog and within minutes Lillian had commented. Then Jean followed shortly after. It happened so fast I was kinda taken aback. Now it is not beyond me to attract total whackos who would sit in front of their computers day and night hitting the refresh button just to see if I've updated and if they can fulfill their fantasy by thinking I'm really writing about them, not me....HOWEVER, I'm sure neither Jean nor Lillian are whackos. This leads me to believe they get some sort of blogger update that tells them when someone posts to their blog. If that's the case, I wanna know how to do that! Oh, and also, I'm not sitting here hitting the refresh button repeatedly just to see if someone commented either, my email alerts me so there!

Okay on to dead dragonflies. First, I must tell you that I have an affinity for dragonflies and Birds of Paradise flowers because they always remind me of my father (little story about them for anyone interested). I'm pretty sure my dad was near perfection so I assume he has reached that state where you get to go wander around with God, look down upon us mere mortals and laugh at our stupidity, and every now and then he chooses to remind me he's keeping an eye out on me. So, whenever I see a dragonfly, I figure it's dad's way of telling me to pay attention and do right by the world.

Now that's a rather sweet way of looking at things, I mean I would be out in the backyard, and see a dragonfly, and feel all is right with the world. But then came this week. First off I head downstairs after work and find a HUGE half-dead dragonfly at the bottom of the stairs. I'm not sure how it got in, but I felt awful. So I gently scooped up the poor thing and took it outside and left it in amongst my pretty flowers hoping it would recover enough to take off and enjoy life again. The next morning there it was, dead in the flowers. Okay, I'm not so nuts that I think this is some sort of ominous sign, I mean dragonflies do die. However, by last count I have found over 18 dead dragonflies in my basement this week alone.

What could Dad have been trying to tell me? Why are they all dead? Is he angry with me? Have I done something wrong? I thought about trying to fast and pray to find the answer...but then I got hungry. So then I thought perhaps I should try to do some good deeds, but just as I was about to walk out the door to go do some charity work, the mailman rang the doorbell and delivered a belated birthday present of a new computer mystery game...so obviously I was meant to go play that and not go do charity work. Finally I thought maybe I was to relinquish my hold on all things materialistic, and choose to walk the path of those who renounce such things as makeup, curling irons, fancy clothes, shoes, cars etc. Having settled on this being the answer I headed downstairs to empty out my closet and clothe myself in rags, but ZOUNDS, on my way I found another dead dragonfly.

Why would Dad have sent another dead dragonfly if I had found the correct answer to my transgressions...so my M.A.C. cosmetics and new Baretrap sandals were saved. Saddened with my inability to solve the dilemma, I looked for solace in a gin and tonic with a pretty twist of lemon. With a heavy heart and my drink in hand, I headed out to sit on the patio and contemplate the loser I am. It was there the answer was finally revealed to me. Sitting in the sun, sipping on that gin, my cats, Oli and Tinka, came out to give me comfort. But their comforting was short lived for they grew distracted and began to chase bugs and butterflies and such. My eyes began to close, and just before I nodded off with a heavy heart I saw it! Yes, that's right....I saw Tinka jump in the air, pounce on a poor old dragonfly, then with her treasure safely ensnared in her mouth she headed into the house through the catdoor and straight downstairs.

So thank you Dad I finally get it. The moral of this lesson....Lock the cat door till later in the day. When it's time for all good cats to come in to bed, make sure they pass inspection first and are not trying to sneak in souvenirs.

In case you think this is a dumb idea...and it couldn't possibly be what Dad's dead dragonfly messages were about, did I happen to mention Tinka brought in a HUGEASS pigeon the other day. I'm not even quite sure how she dragged it through the catflap, but fortunately I was there and was able to rescue the pigeon and set it free, once it had recovered from its state of shock.

Oh and Oli's a pain too. She's not quite the hunter that Tinka is, so she settles for dragonflies, butterflies and worms. Don't ya just wish you lived with me, so you too could get up in the morning and find dead bugs laid out as a loving offering on your bed.

Okay I'm off to do some yard work, next post I promise pictures...mainly because I'm so darned proud of how my yard is looking. I finally have a vision of what I want in there, and it's all coming together.

Ciao for now!
Swapna