Three part post

I planned on never waking up!
But that didn't happen. I fell asleep a little after two in the morning. Mom walked in around seven to inform me that she was perfectly capable of planting the garden/grass in the patch left by the departure of the swimming pool. "That's nice." I rolled over and around eight awoke to find out that she requried my assistance. So I threw on whatever decency and prudence required (this included old socks and sneakers) and ventured out into the back yard. We dug about an inch deep over the entire surface of a ten foot circle. Then we raked bagged soil into it. After that we searched for the butterfly garden seeds, opened half a dozen boxes in my room, finally found them, read the directions, marked off a two foot in radius circle, scattered seed in it, and trod them into the ground. Then mom scattered the grass seed over the rest of the circle and raked it around.
Death Trap for butterflies
During the course of this eventful morning, I found myself sitting on the backporch assembling a bird bath. In the course of this, I found occassion to once again ponder the words scrawled in white chalk on the brick wall. I am fairly certain it says "DEATH". Why we haven't washed it off, I don't know. Why it is there, I have some inklings. There is a large black butterfly lying in the corner of this porch with blue and orange spots on its wings. I noticed it a few days ago when it was still fluttering about the upper screened portion in the corner farthest from the door. I unsuccessfully tried to shoo it out. My sister unsuccessfully tried to shoo it out. It died on the porch which is something along the lines of a death trap from the insect's perspective, excluding the ants of course who see it as some sort of neverending buffet.
Elves do not wear sneakers
If you don't believe me, ask Lydia. It is almost impossible to dance under hemlock umbels in sneakers. (this may have more to do with the absence of hemlock umbels and skill than the wearing of sneakers) Still, I couldn't help noticing what galumphing shoe prints I left in the freshly loosened earth.