Magic.

The metamorphosis of a caterpillar into a butterfly (here, a mourning cloak)--the breakdown of tissues into goo that reforms itself into completely different tissues all on the say so of the specific structure of its chemicals--comes as close to being magic as anything I know of...

Hosta Takeover.

(hosta/hostile...get it?) This crazy plant has been so happy this year it has spread across more than half the width of my front deck.

I loved it in that location, but it has been banished to a little niche in front of the deck because I wanted as much floor space as possible for the Monsteras and Philodendrons.

Uh-oh... She lost a handful of leaves but Big Momma M made it through the winter, as did the little ones. The tree Philos are looking a bit more worse for wear but they survived as well. *sigh* I need a bigger front deck.

More fish watching.

The shubunkin (showy name for a slightly-fancier-than-basic goldfish: a matt-finished, calico-colored [although with age, s/he's losing what color s/he had at half this size] fish, in this case "Bristol shubunkin" because of the long flowing tail: I knew that goldfish handbook would come in handy some day!) seems to be reveling in the bigger tank I finally cleaned out more than a year after the last fish died...

Sephy and I are spending much time watching it.

The last time I had the 55 gallon up and running (photo taken during a persistent algae infestation before the tank miraculously cleared and stayed clear without a water change for years), the Hooligans enjoyed watching the then-resident tetras. The only set up I did for this shot was to add the fourth kitten; the other three were already there.

Fish Face.

They are everywhere.

You probably think I'm exaggerating when I say the ticks wait for me on my front steps.


Even people familiar with the preponderance of bloodsuckers in southernmost New Jersey probably feel I'm overstating the matter.


I'm not. They truly are everywhere. Even in the fish tank.