Brimstone and Crab

This butterfly turned up in our garden yesterday, flittering around our purple wallflower. At first I thought it was a plain ol' cabbage white, but the leaf-shaped wings and light green color with single spots seemed unusual. Turns out it's a Brimstone, which I don't remember ever seeing before, though it's possible we've had them around. (I tend to write off any white or whitish butterfly as a cabbage white, and I really shouldn't!)

When it landed on one stalk, this white crab spider emerged from the blossom, where it was lurking to capture small insects like bees that come to feed. But the spider didn't go after the butterfly. I guess that was just too much bug.

I had a full day yesterday, consumed with more household tasks. It was one of those days where the minute I finished something, I'd think of something else that needed doing. I sometimes think I'm a little manic that way, to be honest. I've never been good at sitting still, and I can get in these zones where I just go and go. On the upside, I get a lot done! I changed the bedsheets and took them to the laundry, cleaned all the objets and the tablecloth on our front hall table, dusted the bedroom, vacuumed, scrubbed the bathroom and cleaned the floor around the too-small mat I bought for Olga's dog bowls. (Olga is a messy eater, and the mat completely fails to protect the floor.)

I took Olga for a walk and it was a beautiful day, so I thought we'd go to the cemetery or maybe even to the Heath. But Olga had other ideas. She was content with an amble up the high street, sniffing garbage outside Sainsbury's. Such a classy animal. I've said it before but I'll say it again -- it appears our Hampstead Heath days are behind us.

In the evening, we were watching TV when a bee flew into the living room through an open window and made straight for Olga. (It made a beeline for her, in fact!) I don't know why this bee was drawn to the dog, who jumped up and looked alarmed. I was afraid she would snap at it, thus ending the bee's existence, and the bee was persistent in its suicidal obsession. I finally managed to chase it out of the room and then we bathed Olga, thinking the insect was somehow drawn by her not-particularly-flowerlike scent. (Granted we hadn't bathed her in a while, because she no longer goes on muddy Heath walks, so it was probably time.)

Dave kept himself busy too. He came home from the grocery store with two flats of annuals, marigolds and salvia, which he planted in another big plastic pot that the Russians gave us. So now that's in a corner of the patio, brightening things up for summer!