Still More on The Crocus
The Prayer of The Cat

Hurt No Living Thing

Hurt no living  thing:

Ladybug, nor butterfly,

Nor moth with dusty wing,

Nor cricket chirping cheerily,

Nor grasshopper so light of leap,

Nor dancing gnat, nor beetle fat,

Nor harmless worms that creep.

Christina Rossetti

Another good poem for the nature journal! I love Christina Rossetti, and this poem is yet another favorite of mine. But in this house, if you're a bug, we have some rules for you. If we find you outside, we give you wide berth. If we find you inside, all bets are off.

As much as I relish the return of spring, I really, really, really am not looking forward to the annual return of BUGS. Because it's not just a return, it's a total invasion.

Oh, the varieties Rossetti mentions are all right in my book, but I'm talking about the not so charming kinds ... like ticks, mosquitos, wasps, and spiders. We're already dealing with ticks after recent walks in the woods, and just this afternoon Bookworm found a baby bee crawling on his neck.

This morning the boys brought my attention to a rather large hairy spider sitting just above the sliders in the family room. Without a moment's hesitation, I was up on a chair, sneaker in hand, and one big yucky squish later our problem was solved.

Crackerjack looked at me, unease in his eyes ...

"Mama, you could have put him outside."

"No, sweetie. He was too high up. I could barely reach him as it was."

"Really, Mama, I think you could have got him out."

"Honestly Crackerjack, he was moving too quickly."

"No, Mama I really think you could have gotten him safely outside instead of squishing him."

"Honey, he was a biter."


"Oh. Then I'm glad you got him."