This morning Terry spotted a "new" butterfly in the backyard.  It was black, with a row of white spots across its wings and an orange "triangle" at edge of wing.  Steve went for his phone to try for a picture, but it got spooked and flew away.  Even with a very clear description it took a lot of scrolling through pix to find what we saw:

Lorquin's admiral (Limenitis lorquini) is a butterfly in the Nymphalinae subfamily. The butterfly is named after Pierre Joseph Michel Lorquin, a French naturalist who came to California from France during the Gold Rush, and made important discoveries on the natural history of the terrain.  The Lorquin's admiral has brown-black wings, each with a row of white spots across it. Its forewings have orange tips. Wingspan: 47 to 71 mm; females are generally larger than males.The Lorquin's admiral can mostly be found across the Upper Sonoran to the Canadian Zone, east to western Montana and Idaho. Known areas include southern British Columbia (including Vancouver Island, north of Emerald Lake), and Cypress Hills in southwestern Saskatchewan as well as southwestern Alberta. The butterfly resides mostly in forest edges, mountain canyons, parks, streamsides, fencerows, orchards, and groves of cottonwood and poplar. Usually the butterflies feed on California buckeye, yerba santa, privet, bird droppings, and dung.They are extremely territorial and will attack any intruders into their habitat, including large birds.

I liked a lot of the stickers on this car carrier, though it was the John Prine quote (blow up your TV) that initially caught my eye.

Speeding Kills Bears

Then in the parking lot saw a car with lots more great decals. 

As I was snapping my photos the car's owner, Leigh, arrived. 

She got a charge out of my take on her "never summer" sticker: no way!

When I explained I feel the same way about cold that Sam McGee did,

it turned out she needed an introduction.

Bumped into Mark (working hard?) by the apple pools.  He had a good laugh when I told him he'd made my blog yesterday after his comment about brushing my hair.  So here he is today, modeling his dreadlocks for me.

Books to add to my reading list! These were sitting on the rocks by the party pool while their people soaked. I read the blubs on their backs, and was intrigued.  But after I read the first paragraph of each book, I was certain that I wanted to read them.

Jonasson’s laugh-out-loud debut (a bestseller in Europe) reaches the U.S. three years after its Swedish publication, in Bradbury’s pitch-perfect translation. The intricately plotted saga of Allan Karlsson begins when he escapes his retirement home on his 100th birthday by climbing out his bedroom window. After stealing a young punk’s money-filled suitcase, he embarks on a wild adventure, and through a combination of wits, luck, and circumstance, ends up on the lam from both a smalltime criminal syndicate and the police. Jonasson moves deftly through Karlsson’s life—from present to past and back again—recounting the fugitive centenarian’s career as a demolitions expert and the myriad critical junctures of history, including the Spanish Civil War and the Manhattan Project, wherein Karlsson found himself an unwitting (and often influential) participant. Historical figures like Mao’s third wife, Vice President Truman, and Stalin appear, to great comic effect. Other characters—most notably Albert Einstein’s hapless half-brother—are cleverly spun into the raucous yarn, and all help drive this gentle lampoon of procedurals and thrillers.

A lushly written novel set in India at the height of the mango season–in which a young woman must decide to follow her heart or tradition.

Priya Rao left India when she was twenty to study in the U.S., and she’s never been back. Now, seven years later, she has to return and give her family the news: she’s engaged to Nick Collins, a kind, loving American man. It’s going to break their hearts.

Returning to India is an overwhelming experience for Priya. When she was growing up, summer was all about mangoes—ripe, sweet mangoes, redolent with juices that dripped down your mouth, hands, and neck. But after years away, she sweats as if she’s never been through an Indian summer before.

But Priya’s relatives remain the same. Her mother and father insist that it’s time they arranged her marriage to a “nice Indian boy.” Just as Priya begins to feel she can’t possibly tell her family that she’s engaged to an American, a secret is revealed that leaves her stunned and off-balance. Now she is forced to choose between the love of her family (and all that they represent) and Nick, the love of her life.