My last monarch caterpillar became a chrysalis two days ago. It hadn't eaten for several days so I was assuming it would die. Instead, it formed a smaller chrysalis. I wonder if it felt conflicted about this time of year, being by far the last one to turn, and a full two weeks after peak migration (though migration seems late or scattered this year).
Anyway, we celebrated what turned out to be its last night with suction feet by doing all the things I know a monarch caterpillar would want to do.
First, it limbered up by doing pilates on a stick:
In an attempt to lighten the mood, we decided to make some prank phonecalls to editors, previous students, and Mel Gibson:
We made a delicious pizza of spinach, fetta, italian seasonings, and grape tomato:
Then the light burned out, so that had to get fixed--and it sorta killed the mojo:
Maybe not an ideal guy's / girl's / hermaphrodite's night out, but what's joie de vivre when you are often nothing more than an incubation chamber for tachnid flies? It's a monarch life out there, folks. "Spread" your "wings" and "nectar" on "asters" before you run out of quote marks and possible double entendres.