Butterflies and milkweed

When my husband and I were married, his oldest brother was in the Air Force and out of the country. When first I met him, he said two things that made a very negative impression on me. 1. He asked how if one baby took up all of my time, could more babies take up any more. 2. He looked at the weedy little garden my husband had planted and turned to me and said, "Dianne, you must weed that." I had a three year old, a two year old and was great with child. Many years later all is forgiven. His wife's five babies and my five babies are all grown. He's turned most of his yard into a garden and I have gardens all over the place. We're kind of garden buddies, you might say. If he discovers a plant he really likes, he often saves seeds and sends them to me. Several years ago when we visited I noticed a lovely plant along his white picket fence. My sister-in-law told me it was a tame variety of common milkweed. It was lovely with rosy stems, soft blue-gray leaves and a unique pink and white flower, almost orchid- like. I had to have some. I was happy to find that it was hardy to zone 3. I planted my seeds and bided my time. My brother-in-law counselled patience. Milkweed comes up late in the spring and takes awhile to become established. Finally, during its third year, it grew almost as tall as my brother-in-law's and began to flower. And then--devastation. On one of our walks around the yard we noticed big fat green and yellow and black monarch butterfly caterpillars munching on the leaves. As I write this, only stems are left. Along the Minimum Maintenance Road and on the Beltrami State Forest Roads wild milkweed grows with abandon, unmunched. I get a little smug, though, when I read lengthy magazine articles on how to attract butterflies. My yard has always been full of them--many colors and sizes.