Birds and Butterflies

I've been reading more lately on recycling and environmental awareness, and coming across some rather interesting little items in my perusals. I found another couple I'd like to share with you.
One of them really caught my eye because of how thoroughly addicted I am to crocheting baby blankets, and knitting toques, as well as combing my hair! (Wait for it! There really is a connection.) Birds will happily make use of both human hair and bits of yarn to build their nests and cozy them up for the wee ones, so the suggestion is to clean out your brushes and combs and leave the hair out in the backyard or the park for the feathered citizenry to find. Ditto with the ends of yarn left after you finish your latest project.
Especially for you guys who are beginning to find more hairs in your comb and fewer on your pate, this idea might soften the blow of male pattern baldness just a little to think of your hair still being useful even though it no longer adorns your head.



The other idea is a little nugget that could prove useful to gardeners who also happen to love butterflies - black swallowtails, in particular. I like butterflies, but I like the plant recommended for attracting the swallowtail even more. There may well be other plants that will serve the same purpose, but the one called Queen Anne's Lace is one that the butterflies and I both agree is wonderful. I have known it as a wild flower since I was little, when it draped its lovely lacy blossoms all across the fields where I played. It still grows wild in abundance here in southern Ontario and elsewhere in North America.
The plant began as a native of some areas of Europe and southwest Asia. It was brought here to the "colonies" where it took happily to the conditions and spread itself everywhere. It is also called wild carrot by some, since if you uproot it you'll find the roots smell carrot-like. When they're very young, the roots can even be eaten like carrots. I grew up calling it Queen Anne's Lace, however, and I like that name much better. The other is too prosaic.
A biennial plant that can grow as tall as a metre, it was given that name because of the small, single red flower you sometimes find at the center of its clustered white flowers. The red flower is the drop of blood shed by the Queen when she pricked herself with a needle while she was making lace. Sleeping Beauty, anyone?
Anyway, plant a few of these hearty beauties and you'll get maximum return on a minimum of work. They'll pretty much take care of themselves, while you enjoy both the pleasure of their graceful blooms and the delicate butterflies they draw to your garden.