Ladybird roosting season is upon us. They're pottering around, staring at this and that, climbing, consulting the genetic memory, drawing maps for those in their number who may have feasted too well and in the process retired the odd brain cell. When I give thought to that map it plots a number of the more traditional routes to the room where as the year changes I increasingly spend the majority of my time. They're all welcome, just a few rules. Don't get all excited around light bulbs at night, it's un-neighborly, stay away from the keyboard, keep out of the clothing and for goodness sake stay away from the glue pot, it's a slow, horrible and grizzly way to end a worldly sojourn.
If my own memory contains any accuracy, I recall that last winter I kept fresh
water in one of those shallow plastic tops from a commercial edible on the work
table. The theory being that a Ladybird was drawn to the glue pot in a search
for a little liquid refreshment. Vaguely remember it wasn't very successful. The
Kitten's winter habit of leaping onto the work surface in the middle of night
resulted in several unfortunate spills and some alarm. Nothing she finds more
maddening than a wet paw, it upsets her and she can react poorly which in turn
can lead to rather precious and sometimes sharply pointed supplies being knocked
onto the floor.