Trusting Lables

I was raised in a period when you couldn't buy the same toothpaste twice in a row, and boxes were reused many times to contain birthday and Christmas presents, so I learned not to trust, not to count on anything.

We buy plants from a number of places, sometimes through the mail. We have about seven butterfly bushes, have had them for several years, time enough for them to "volunteer" some extra bushes in the driveway garden. Little did I know that several of the plants and herbs I grow are favorites of butterflies. Next-generation butterflies love my parsley, and some little lavender-blue guys are crazy about the basil.

The butterfly bushes are living up to their names, attracting species big and little, white and brown and all sorts of colors and sizes. While I was weeding tonight, I paused to take a breath and saw six black-and-yellow butterflies on the blue butterfly bush beside me. When I took a step toward them, they spooked and fluttered up into the air, then settled again on different spokes of blossoms.

So butterfly bushes live up to their billing. The flowers smell like honey -- and the butterflies love them. I guess I can count on something after all.