Monday, 28 April 2008

Fly away Peter, fly away Paul

Something very odd has happened. You may recall this thread here and here, where I talked about a rather large family of ladybirds inexplicitly choosing inside our window sill to make their home, meaning I couldn’t open that window.

Well, J decided enough was enough on Saturday. We had been pandering to our ladybird guests far too long, the flat was boiling (I was mildly warm, but that was besides the point) and we still had an hour to wait for dinner (being hungry can effect certain decisions, I find). So he strode to the closed window, while I hovered anxiously, thinking of the hoards of bumbling ladybirds that would flap out towards the settee when their home was disturbed.


J opened the window wide, and no ladybirds, not a one. They’d all flown off in the night (I must check the silver) with not even a thank you note for keeping that window shut for five months (apart from *coughs* the one day…). It turns out there was a gap that the ladybirds could access to let them in and out, without resorting to coming inside, apart from the ones that obviously got a bit lost.

I felt strangely like I had lost a hundred pets, be they small, spotty and with a tendency to awkward flying. ‘Will they be back’, I asked J, gazing out of the window. But I was talking to an empty room. J had already gone to poke the roast potatoes.

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