Dear reader, what would you do if a package bearing mystery bugs arrived on your doorstep?
Faint dead away? Put your house up for sale? Tear open your bodice on the grounds you can't breathe?
Unfortunately, those reactions only occurred to me after the fact.
When it actually happened, Caroline and I were quite excited. Well, I was also a bit nervous, mind you, but I didn't tell her that. It never pays to show one's daughter signs of fear.
We set to work unpacking the contents, with me secretly wondering if our faces were about to get eaten off.
I kept that to myself, too.
The blue death feigning beetles are simply marvelous.
For one thing, they're the color of blueberries. For another, the fact they feign death is so charmingly sophisticated! They could fake or pretend it, but no. This isn't child's play, dear reader. The blue feigning death beetle is no prankster, no cheap buffoon.
When you watch them assume a state of demise, you realize you've never seen true acting until that moment.
It's nothing short of humbling...even depressing, if you're not careful. For awhile I labored beneath the realization I can't do anything as well as those beetles can feign death, and it made me ask myself some pretty searching questions. But then I got over it, remembering it is better to fill oneself with admiration when in the presence of greatness.
As for this one...oh, the stories I could tell!
I call him Sherlock. He acts like it pains him to acknowledge my presence.
No matter, I have affection enough for two! I'm almost positive he's ignoring me in a British accent, so it only follows I speak the Queen's English when serving him a spot of tea.
And by spot, I really do mean spot.