Finally, I was able to return to the mortal realm in the guise of a butterfly. This year it took forever for the cocoons to open and the 2019 line of butterfly bodies to be released. The cold spring and reluctant summer delayed production, causing me to use other bodies to inspect my parents' gardens.
The standard body type is a white moth. It comes with no accessories. There isn't even a tape player. It handles fine but has no pickup. It is to the butterfly as a Ford Focus is to a Lexus. It gets boring fast.
The man at the insect lot tried to put me in a 2003 honey bee. I hated that thing. Besides the constant buzzing, there was the overpowering need to pollinate. I passed.
I did get to test drive a dragonfly. Those things are awesome. You can get around in one of them in nothing flat. The rapidly fluttering wings keep it from getting overheated. My only disappointment was that it didn't breathe fire. I was right over Pocket ready to give her a scorching when all of produced was a stinky polling burp.
I was relieved when I finally was able to use a butterfly body. I walked through the showroom, searching for the perfect model. I settled on a lighter unit with black wings speckled with yellow spots. I took it for a test fly. It was perfect.
I flew into the sun and came out at my parent's house. I landed on the rose bush which after a two-year hibernation and replanting were finally in bloom. This came from a branch off of Daddy's grandfather's rosebush and is called the 100 year bush, but not loudly, because there are a lot of senior citizens living around my parents and we wouldn’t want some lady to think we were talking about her.
The next stop was my garden. It has been problematic this year. It doesn’t get a lot of sun because it is close to the house and has a pine tree on the eastern edge. Except for the tulips, nothing is blooming. The black eye susan has taken over the garden. I ordered them to be thinned out, and some of them replanted on the southern side of the house. I am sure in a year the garden will be thriving, but I am impatient.
When I went to the Bridge, the side garden was just a thin three-foot strip. Now it is six inches wide and is the length of the thirty-foot driveway. It has a blooming hydrangea, two butterfly bushes, nectar, and several colorful flowers. It was more beautiful than in my garden. The only thing three appealings was my angel. I decided change had to be made.
I picked up the angel with my little butterfly feet, beat my wings harder than a butterfly wing has ever been beaten, lifted the angel, and flew from my garden to the side garden. I planted my angel in the side garden like Neil Armstrong putting the American Flag on the moon. I claimed this garden in the name of Foley Monster One small flight for a butterfly, one great big garden for Foley Monster
After I had claimed the superior garden in my name, I spent the rest of the day in it, burying myself in the butterfly bush’s purple flowers, and playing tag with the hummingbirds. Summer is short in these parts, and the life of a butterfly model is even shorter.
So excuse me, it is summertime, and I must gather my rosebuds while I can.