I feel like live for the mornings these days. Before moving to Hjelm House, I spent the early hours avoiding the dew that descends upon the road every morning. It’s not easy being a caterpillar in the wilds of Kensington, Minnesota. I have lived here my whole life, so I suppose that’s all I know. But recently, as I watch the flower children begin to leave (Taylor, sweet girl how I miss thee), my grippy feet get itchy and I long to see the greater world. Perhaps you will find me in Rhode Island, hidden amongst Ben’s clothing this Sunday.
But I shall not digress further. This flog post is dedicated to my day today. Not the day that I sneak into Ben’s bag and travel to Rhode Island. Nor the day when I move in to the third room in Danny and Amy’s apt. Ali has briefly left her computer unattended, and I have decided to flog in her stead, to describe to you loyal followers what I did today.
Today the flower children arrived as they usually do, piling out of the car holding containers of rotting leaves and vegetable matter. I have yet to understand why they do this, but as they joyfully make their way from their cars toward the garden, I long to follow them into the eden of vegetable matter that they must be headed toward. They all sat around the table, shivering like the wimps they are (I find the weather beautiful for sitting on leaves) and giggled at each other sleepily.
Another, more official looking flower person emerged from the house and smiled at the flower children. He promised them warmth later in the day, and told them in the mean time they could venture out to pee as well. As I watched them leave the porch, I visualized what they would be doing during our separation. I wondered why the flowers must be measured in this strange “P Two” location. I wished to ask why they measured the plants rather than immediately eating them. I knew that the numbers were important however, because when they returned for lunch, they spoke excitedly of finishing measuring almost all of the densest section of “Pea Too.”
As they ate their lunch I ate around another leaf. I have been constantly eating since these humans brought me to Hjelm House. They have provided for me very well. After lunch, they sent one of the children off on his own, to collect flags from Hegg Lake. Before that boy left, I tried to get his attention to tell him to say “hi” to Auntie Ellis for me. She flew out to Hegg with a young ‘pillar from down the block last summer. I haven’t seen her since, but think of her fondly. The other children went to the Landfill for a demo. What sort of demo was going on at a Landfill. Perhaps, the gulls will demonstrate how to collect snacks from the garbage piles. But the flower children brought their visors to collect data on, so something tells me that it isn’t the kind of demo that the gulls or I would be interested in.
Four of the girls stayed back near me. Two of them wandered out to move the aphids around from one Echinacea plant to another. Two other girls brought sheets of paper labeled “Q3 data sheets” to paint Echinacea flowers. Before I moved to the house, I saw them painting, out near the road I lived on. I overheard them saying that they were painting to ensure that the put the pollen on the correct anthers on the Echinacea flowers. I don’t understand why these humans don’t trust the bees to carry out pollination. They bees have done this job for so long, and these children have fingers as large as my body– how could they properly transfer the pollen?
At the end of the day, as I was minding my own business, one girl took my picture (I will post it below).
They wonder at my size, saying that I look too big to be a normal caterpillar. One of them even said sarcastically that I was the larval stage of an Eagle. I found that to be ridiculous, and frankly a little sizest.
I have enjoyed my time reporting to you about my day. But Ali approaches, and she looks eager to use her computer and I should begin the walk back to Hjelm House so that the children don’t find out that I left my yogurt container on the porch. It’s a long crawl back, but don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine.
Till next time,
Ricky The Caterpillar
Gina rudely interrupts my meal
