Saturday, 2 July 2011
"Ah, the pugs!" said a more experienced mothing friend not long ago. "Wait 'til you get to the pugs. You'll love them." Well, I'm not waiting, but the pugs are. For my love, I mean. I think the presumed leisure of retirement will be the only way to kindle passion, when there's time to sort out these tiny creatures which to my notoriously unforensic eye, all look alike. And there are about 50 of them, all classified as macro moths in spite of their diminutive size.
At least this one has various distinctions, especially that lovely russet colour, like a warm brick in the current sunshine. So I'm risking my tattered reputation to say that it is a Double-striped Pug (you can make out the double stripes too, just, slanting down the wings.) Meanwhile here is a micro on my thumb, to show how small they are. Mind you, it's not got to grow much to outdo a pug.
Sorry, I do bite my nails. Always have, always will. It's the only safe way. So-called 'nail' scissors tend to cut to the quick and I can't understand how to use those clipper things.