the sphinx

Hello everyone. It is I, Chess the purebred border collie, here again to provide you with the most fascinating posts possible. You may remember me from such illuminating and generally magnificent posts as “Let the Whining Begin” and “Stinker’s Revenge”. Those were really excellent. That’s what you get when you are a purebred border collie. (I don’t have papers, though; I scarcely need them.)

Here I am in a characteristic pose. The guy I live with thought this was funny. The camera is reflected in my eyes which is why they look weird. His sense of humor is odd, to say the least.

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So, well, actually, the reason why I’m doing this post is that the guy I live with says I have to learn to deal with scary things. Sometimes we have talks about the scary things we’ve both seen, and that makes me feel slightly better, but last night something happened that was so totally extra super mind-numbingly scary that I had to hide. I was all stretched out flat on the comfy Pottery Barn sheets the guy I live with bought for me, with the fan blowing cool air all over me, when the unimaginable happened.

A moth flew into my bedroom.

It started to flutter, and that’s when I had to hide. The guy I live with went into the garage to get the net my mommy made, and the flashlight (which he bought), and looked for the moth. Eventually he found it, grabbed it with his hand, and let it go out in the front yard. He said it tickled when he held it in his hand. He’s caught a lot of these so he’s an expert in this regard.

It was a sphinx moth. Hyles lineata. Or, if you insist, a hawk moth. Instead of showing flowers this time I’ll provide a link back to a post which shows my mommy’s watercolor of one of these horribly scary things. The watercolor is at the bottom of the post.

One time a wren flew into the bedroom and the guy I live with had to catch it with the net. That was just as scary.

People think that this is from a tomato worm, but that’s Manduca sexta, which is this moth right here. Much bigger, and, lucky for me, none has ever flown into my bedroom.

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The guy I live with has shown these before. What I bet he hasn’t shown are pictures of the death’s head sphinxes in my mommy’s collection. If one of these flew into my bedroom, I bet that would be it for me.

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Very scary. Years ago my mommy wanted a book called Sphingidae Mundi (sphinx moths of the world), and she ordered it from Tattered Cover. When she brought the book up to the counter, the guy I live with said to the checkout person that they’d probably never rung up a book with a price tag like that, and the checkout person said they’d rung up all kinds of expensive books, and then the guy I live with opened the dust jack and pointed to the $298 price tag and the checkout person gasped. My mommy really liked this book.

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The guy I live with isn’t too interested in crawly things, like my mommy was, and his idea of sphinxes is more like this:

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This is from Schumann’s Carnaval, and wasn’t intended to be played, just contemplated. It’s a riddle, really. My mommy would just say “Uh huh” when the guy I live with talked about musical riddles and such like.

At least the music didn’t have caterpillars that would fall onto the table when he and my mommy were eating lunch out on the back patio. That happened more than once. And it never flew into my bedroom just when I was getting all comfy.

That’s it for now. Here’s hoping you don’t find anything scarier than this in your day.

 

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three percent humidity

Greetings everyone, once again it is I, Chess the purebred border collie, here to bring you the most enjoyable posts possible. You may remember me from such posts as “Making a List” and “Trials and Tribulations”. Those were truly outstanding posts, if I do say so myself. And of course I do.

Here I am looking charming and agreeable in what the guy I live with thinks is a lawn. I sometimes wonder about him.

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And here I am looking the other way. You can see there is some grass here; buffalo grass, which according to the guy I live with makes it a lawn.

 

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Well, so much for lawn talk. Yesterday, as the title of my post suggests, the humidity got down to three percent at about two in the afternoon. That’s drier than even Death Valley was yesterday. Three percent humidity is what you might call dry. It was windy, too. I didn’t like it very much but the guy I live with, who’s pretty nice to me, hosed me off twice yesterday.

I wondered what would happen when the humidity got to zero. Or lower. Could you, like, owe humidity? If you turned on the hose, would the water just disappear? These are the sort of things I think about. I like the hose a lot.

Today there was smoke from the fire about sixty miles to the south of here, and the humidity soared to a muggy nine percent, and I was still hot. The guy I live with wanted to call me a hot dog but I didn’t think that was wildly funny. I like hot dogs. When my buddy Slipper was sick, the guy I live with made a kind of paté out of cooked hot dogs, hardboiled eggs, and cheese that was really good. I got to eat a lot of it even though I wasn’t supposed to. I also liked the rice swimming in chicken fat and our regular food drizzled with sardine juice. The guy I live with is quite a chef.

Sorry, I started out okay and then got distracted by my favorite subject. You know, food. The guy I live with was supposed to open the present he got for me the other day but he got distracted, as usual. I showed a picture of what he did the other day.

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And today, he did this. Those ropy things in the upper right are branches of Daphne alpina. He says to say “from Archibald seed”, which apparently adds class. We always seem to be needing to “add some class”. I’ll have to think about that one for a while, because he has me, a purebred border collie. The daphne was being pushed into one of the paths by the mugo pine which was growing too big for its britches. I didn’t know plants had britches but the guy I live with says they do. He says it’s mystical. That’s his explanation for a lot of things.

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So, he has room for more plants. Amazing how that works.

Here are a couple of cactus flowers. (Remember I have to show flowers if I get to use the computer.) He could have taken this from the other side of the plant but he says that was too much trouble. So there’s a branch in the way. (It’s Atriplex gairdneri.)

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Here’s one of those fancy echinocereus hybrids. The flower really is this color, he says, with tints of purple inside.

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What else? Oh, in the rolling-your-eyes department, which the guy I live with does almost every time someone talks about drought and watering restrictions, you’re allowed to water container plants. This is his idea of what container plants in Colorado should be.

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True, the dasylirion  (Dasylirion acrotriche) isn’t quite centered in the pot, which kind of detracts from the sense of pure horticultural enlightenment here, but no one is perfect. In fact, these pots are on the driveway. That seems a little weird to me, but the guy I live with says it’s progressive.

Whatever he says, huh. I’ll say goodbye, for now.

 

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