I am sitting at my desk watching a ladybug. My home office is "temporarily" -- meaning at least for the next six months-- located on the front sun-porch. This is an east-facing room, long and narrow with some wicker chairs that were left behind by the previous owners. Much to everyone's surprise the room is well heated; in fact, it is the warmest room in the house. Even warmer now than before thanks to the additional insulation added by Rhonda and family as they rennovated the master bedroom above. So, I am sitting her watching a ladybug attempt to regain full mobility after being partly squashed by my left hand just a few moments ago. The squash was accidental though inevitable. Apparently every home in Northern Wisconsin is annually invaded by thousands of ladybugs.

They are said to bring good luck. They eat aphids. But they also end up in everything: doing a backstroke in my tea, landing on food, dying in the windowsill, drowning in the toilet, dancing around light bulbs. The other night Buddy was alone in the bedroom while we sat just feet away in the tv area. He was growling and then barking at something we couldn't hear. I went in to investigate and found him sitting with his face inches from the lamp, barking at the silly ladybugs who were vigorously flying back and forth between the light bulb and the shade.