When I lived in Florida, I had hundreds of caterpillars and butterflies living in my Passion flowers.
My greatest pleasure in the morning was going out to see them on the porch screen waiting for me.
I know it’s hard to believe, but if you had seen their little faces pressed up to the screen waiting for me, you would believe.
I would whisper softly to them and they would land on me and land in front of me.
They would hold still and pose for pictures and if you know butterflies, you know they don’t hold still.
We moved back to New England almost three years ago and since then, I have been in short supply of butterflies. I’ve maybe seen five and they were tiny white ones.
My grandson Cole came in June to spend the summer with us. He’s been here for about three weeks and I have seen five or six huge yellow and black butterflies flying by my gardens, even doing flybys as I sit on my porch.
Yesterday, one flew right over my shoulder.
When I lived in Florida, I was known as the Butterfly Whisperer because they would land on me and pose for pictures.
Here in New Hampshire I have been the Butterfly Misser, but no more.
The butterfly drought is over.
Thank you, Cole.
You brought me butterflies.
Thank you, Michelle Marie for the art!
Last, I picked up 2 packs of Marlboros even though I’ve gotten myself down to less than a half a pack a day. You just never know how long you’re going to be stuck in the house after a blizzard.
Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 
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