It was one balmy Autumn afternoon that brought a plague of these small, shiny red fellows to our door. Not only to our door but also every window. And there they danced about each other, launching and landing in the fading sun. The numbers lessened day by day until none were to be seen, but they were still there. With patience and cooperation they filed into the gaps in the closed widow frames, huddling together in tight packed teams, making ready to last out the winter. Undisturbed they would have been except for the day in January when the weather turned surprisingly mild and, our heating not quickly adjusted, I resolved to take drastic action and opened a few windows. In fell the bed fellows, toppled from their perches and, as you would expect, they were untimely wakened. Now we have company, for as long as they can last, that potters around the evening lamp and wanders across the wall, avoiding the the wily spider and fascinating the Couch Monster as they crash land on the coffee table.
I would invite them to dine until the Spring beckons them out, but I have no recipes for Ladybird cuisine!
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