Stained Glass
When I was young I thought butterflies were holy because their wings were made of stained glass from church windows.
I also thought the worms that wriggled out onto the sidewalks after the rains would take me back to their underground lair if I got close enough… and when they shriveled up and perished in the afternoon sun, I just knew it was because their quest had proven unfruitful; no new victim to take back to the queen of the worms!
Nope, I’m not on drugs; not even allie. I really did think those things… doesn’t every child?
19 Responses
I’m that way with spiders! [shudder] 
We think you have a great blog and invite you to come pickup your butterfly and love awards!
Jack & Scout, the greyhounds
Thanks so much!!! 
Love the picture. And had weird thoughts as a kid, though not those. Sigh… maybe I would have been more normal if I had. 
Normal? You think those wild fantasies normal? 
I never thought of butterflies in that way before, what a lovely thought.
I wish I could think like a little girl again…
You picked up the butterfly from the back porch. I wanted to so badly to touch it but it sadden me since it reminded my of the many I have lost. The picture is great! I wish I had thought of it. I have a tree I am going to try.
Trees are cool! 
I love your description of what you thought the worms could do. Glad I’m not the only one with an overactive imagination. 
Oh, hell no. Sometimes I think tables are alive. We’ll have to talk.
Girlfriend, we have SOOOOO much to talk about. We need to plan a good vacation to do nothing but sit and chat and laugh and co-blog and take photos and and and… You know. Lots to do. Feel like we have a lot to catch up on since we last (never) saw each other. I say this because sometimes it feels like I’ve known you forever and then I realize how little I truly do know. You’re totally my hetero girl crush, if I’m still allowed to have those.
if I’m still allowed to have those.
Oh, shit… Is there a cut off point and I missed the memo?
We’ll have to meet… I always think about going along with Arthur when he has to fly to San Diego… but the trip? She is long. On an airplane. Which I’m none too happy about, anyway. I suck.
Who knows; we may have known each other in a previous life, which I don’t believe in but talk about anyway.
By the way, tables are alive but chairs are dead. Pass it on.
Did anyone mourn the death of the chairs or was there rejoicing? Like if Castro were to die. Are they the Castro of the dining room? I hate that I don’t know the answer to this.
Fly out with Arthur! Go to the doc and get some valium or xanax and FLY OUT HERE!
As for previous lives, yes, I think we were sisters or friends or neighbors once before.
Maybe I can talk myself into it by the time he has to fly out again… I hate xanax. Lost a whole weekend like that once.
They were not Castro chairs, unfortunately.
I promise to make it worth your while to get on that plane. I will arrange for dancing men and cheesecake.
Oh, and bummer on the chairs. Perhaps they were Kenyan?
Oh, and bummer on the chairs. Perhaps they were Kenyan?
Hell I still think that about worms.
I have a very un-natural phobia of worms, they freak the ever living shit out of me still.