Sunday, September 7th: a crash occurred in the kitchen. There was a scream. The caterpillar's jar had fallen off the counter. I regret to say who did it. It was myself. I was trying to make granola, and I could not reach the honey. So I screamed and my father and mother came running. I screamed, "Spunky! Spunky! Spunky!" Fortunately, he is all right.
The glass jar was swept up, and my mother mopped the floor and comforted me, and said that I should not have been climbing on the counter.
Wednesday: I still have not made granola.
Today my mother made a habitat for our dear little Spunky. He hasn't really responded yet. I found a twig for him and now he is happily sitting in his coccoon on a piece of blue cardstock.
The habitat is made of tulle and Cornflower's embroidery hoops.
Since he is not on the stick, there is a possibility that he will die because his wings might get deformed when he comes out.
Thank you, my friends, for looking at my mother's blog. Farewell-- what's that? Oh, and Spunky says so, too.
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