Invitation

The attendance report trickled in via email -- many young adults in the 3rd generation are not coming.  Someone has a summer internship in Alaska.  Someone is in treatment.  But some just don't see the value, no matter what the excuse.

Do they forsee a weekend of hanging out with 13 aunts?  The rowdy loudy aunts and the kindly mindly aunts?   Look deeper and you see the hugging kind, not the bugging kind. The teasing kind and the pleasing kind, not the sneezing kind. 

And the uncles, every one the you-are-doing-fine kind.


I drive home under a dark cloud and dig out a screw top bottle of steak house red wine, raising my glass to Saints Maria, Rita and Ynez. 

In the garden, the orange daylilies and purple Salvia farinacea fail to attract the hummingbirds this year. 

Perhaps the warm winter encouraged the hummers to nest farther north. Next year, maybe.

The bees adore the flowers of the common milkweed, Asclepias syriacus.  As the fat fuzzy bees pollinate the milkweed blooms, the scent is incredible.

There is no denying that there are fewer bees than usual.  All types of bees are in decline, but the reason remains a mystery. 


The pipevine swallowtail caterpillars are feasting on the pipevine this summer after an absence of a few years.  One year, there were so many caterpillars, you  could hear them crunching the leaves.

I see an adult pipervine swallowtail flitting above the leaves, and another generation is ready to begin.

There are no caterpillars on the paw paw tree, but this spring an adult zebra swallowtail butterfly cruised the leaves. Maybe next year the tree will be covered in a new generation of butterflies. 

It is probably no coincidence that the paw paw bloomed for the first time this year, signaling that it is ready to host the caterpillars.

Paw paws have the nickname "Indiana banana." The immature fruit is green and oddly shaped.


Have faith.   If you build it, they will come.  Maybe not right away.  And maybe not every year.  But they will come.