Bugs in love.

Romance is in the air again, in Stick Insect Metropolis. Don't these two just look like they were made for each other...

Yoga for bugs.

My verandah seems to be very popular with the stick insect community. Couldn't help but notice this lass doing a headstand;

When I checked on her the next day she was practicing more advanced poses in her yoga routine. This position doesn't look very comfortable to me; 

Not from this angle either;

Or this one;

Rest assured I kept a close eye on her to make sure she didn't venture into the foot traffic area. Luckily the birds didn't notice her yogic stretches. On the third day I was relieved to see she had moved into a more spine friendly position;

And on the fourth day she did the upside down sticky thing that they do so well;

Climbing the walls.

I'm used to seeing bugs in strange places. All the same, I would've liked to have perused a copy of this sticky's itinerary. Where was he heading? Other than up the wall... Was he planning to go around the bend too? He's right beside my front door, so maybe he just stopped by to say hello...

His side profile is also quite fetching;

That little dark spot on the wall to his right is a moth. Maybe they made the trip together, an insect bonding thing. Or a competition...

Just to give you an idea of how far up the wall Mr Sticky and his winged companion were;

The light is just above my head, so it's quite an epic journey for a bug.

Later on that day, the sun offered another photo opportunity--a bug and his shadow! Yay! 

Btw, that's a bit of garden debris attached to his bottom, just in case you were wondering. It could, of course, also be the insect equivalent of a fashion accessory;

Once again, my subject showed how versatile a bug can be when a photo opportunity presents itself;

Work that camera, sticky;

I was faced with the familiar dilemma I experience whenever I see a bug far from their natural habitat...do I intervene? Provide some assistance? 

I've seen praying mantises climb the walls, presumably to lay eggs, but I do believe this sticky is a boy...and I was concerned about where he might end up, like underfoot. (Don't worry, I wrote myself a note--on a sticky of the other kind, actually--to remind myself to check for wayward stickys before setting foot outside...)

He stayed in this spot for two days, and then, sure enough, my safety concerns were realised when I opened the door the next morning and found him sitting on the actual doorstep. As much as I like to be greeted first thing by an adorable bug, nevertheless, intervention was most definitely required.

I hope sticky approved of the flax bush I put him on...

Raspberry maiden.

Dishes are not my idea of fun...unless while doing them I glance out my window and spy an exquisite creature like this lass. Perfect excuse to swap the dishcloth for an image capturing device instead, of course. How could I resist.

She--assuming I have made an accurate gender diagnosis--is dangling from a raspberry cane, seemingly effortlessly. I don't think I could dangle like that for very long, if at all. 

In fact, I'm going to rebel against the positive thinking brigade and propose that we should focus more on the things we can't do. And celebrate these things, and the creatures who can do them. In the interests of keeping our egos in check. 

Your challenge, should you accept it, is to spend the following week completing this sentence;

I can't ______ like a _______.

But back to more important things, like clever bugs...

This lass did have an admirer--other than me--a much smaller sticky lurking on an adjacent stem who I assume was of the male persuasion. Talk about a cute couple. Just watch out for those prickles, boy sticky. Not only the ones on the raspberry cane.

 Let's admire her spiny bits close up;

And here's another shot of her doing something that I can't, something remarkable;

Oh Sticky, you're-so-fine, you're-so-fine-you-blow-my-mind, Stick-y! Stick-y!

Laughing out loud.

A good night's sleep is not a concept I am familiar with. I struggle to get to sleep, and it's a mission to stay in The Land of Nod too. There's always something that wakes me up.

It might be the wind, or the rain, or their combined effort. Sometimes it's the sounds of suburbia. Other times it's the electricity meter ticking over. That really gets on my wick.

Then there's the overly dramatic double clunk my fridge makes to alert anyone within earshot that it has cooled itself down sufficiently for the time being. What a clever fridge you are.

Last but not least--as if I really need to say this out loud--there are the convoluted inner workings of my own muddled mind. I'm always finding more rabbit holes to fall into in the wee small hours. My Grandad's nickname for me was Alice, would you believe.

I'm pleased to announce that a new sleep deprivation technique has emerged. My subconscious--bless it--finds something in my inner realm so amusing, that laughter ensues. Not just a minor giggle, but a full on laughing fit.

But it's not just a hysterical session in my dreams, it bleeds into the real(ish) world. I laugh myself awake. Intriguing. It appears to be quite hard, or possibly impossible, to laugh and stay asleep at the same time. Kinda like sneezing and keeping your eyes open, I guess.

It's not just annoying because I really need to maximise my sleep molecules, but also because my subconscious has more than once refused to share the joke. Pretty damn rude of it, if you ask me. While onlookers often have no idea why I'm laughing, I usually do. I think it's important to keep oneself in the loop about these things.

I do remember one mischievous morsel from my smorgasbord of dreams though. I thought I'd share it with you today, in case it makes you laugh too.

I was trying to find somewhere else to live during my waking moments, so my subconscious put its own spin on this storyline.

In my dream I went to check out a place by the ocean. Things were looking promising. The flat was nice. The waves were mesmerising. The landlord seemed like a decent chap. Not shifty. Not sleazy. I saw no hint of disapproval in his face. I got my hopes up. I thought I had found my new abode. 

I was following the guy down the hallway. Polite conversation was present. A couple of steps, mid hallway, were present as well. When I reached them, I took the opportunity to bend down and tie my shoelace. At that precise moment the landlord turned around to say something, stepping back towards me as he did so.

I head-butted him in the crotch.

Mortified, I fell down in a disheveled heap on the steps, laughing uncontrollably. He lurched off into an adjacent room, shutting the door behind him. I could hear him sniggering away in the background, which made me laugh even more. So much in fact, that I laughed myself awake.

It's difficult not to choke while laughing when you're lying down, so I had to put myself into the recovery position until the gigglefest was over.

I'm happy to acknowledge that waking up laughing isn't so bad. It's a jovial way to start the day. Unless the day hasn't actually begun because it's still only 5am... I didn't manage to get back to sleep. Action replay issues.

It's by far the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me--in a dream. At least, I think it is. My subconscious might know more about that than I do. Insider information, so to speak.

I didn't get that flat, obviously. I'm house hunting again though, so will keep a look out for any nice rentals by the ocean. And a look out for steps too, of course. Might wear shoes without laces, just to be on the safe side...