Monday, June 30, 2014

John Gorton

Today I was thinking about the butterfly and it's name.

I started to wonder why I named it John Gorton.

Of course I'd name it after an Australian. But why John Gorton? I can't remember if I had a reason or I just went with the first name that popped into my head.

I was thinking, though, that maybe my subconscious connected John Gorton's war accident with the butterfly's wing problem. They both had flying problems and injuries/disfigurements.

I do wonder what happened to John Gorton the butterfly. Why did his wings break?  One theory I have is that he got damaged in the rain. There was a big storm the day before.

Well, actually that's my only theory.

I guess he could have gotten into some kind of butterfly fight.

Yesterday John Gorton the butterfly was extremely lethargic. And he stopped walking. I wasn't sure if he had hurt a leg or was just running out of energy. I decided to try and leave him be—just kind of put him in one place and let him rest, get ready to die...whatever a butterfly needs to do towards the end of his life.

I have my Aussie books that I kind of use as his headquarters. I decided it would be fitting for him to rest on John Gorton's picture on my Prime Minster book. But then later today, he picked up in energy and made his way toward's Harold Holt's photo. On the way there, he left a poop on John McEwan.

This whole thing has been emotionally draining. This morning I felt depressed because JG was so lethargic and he hadn't eaten all Sunday.  Then this morning I found something he would eat and he had more energy, so I felt a little better. But I'm super nostalgic for...well,  a few days ago.

 I miss the times when JG would walk halfway across the room.  Sometimes I couldn't find him and would have to go hunting.  He'd find various places to camp out—the back of a rocking chair, a blanket my mom knit for me, my library book, etc.

Then I would put him on my hand and he'd climb up my arm and onto my shirt.

Oh! And he also liked walking across the book I was reading.

Those were the good old days.  


  1. Maybe the butterfly John Gorton needed the company of a butterfly Ainsley Gotto to perk it up.

  2. Do you know about Ainsley Gotto?

  3. Ross,

    No. I actually looked her up the last time you made a comment to see what you were talking about. But now I can't remember what I saw/read. So it must not have caught my interest much.

    I'm thinking, though, that it's someone he might have had an affair with?

    I'll go look again.

  4. Ross,

    Okay I read again. She was his private secretary and gave him political advice. That was controversial. I guess it was seen as bad advice?