Holy Chrysallis, Batman!

All my twitchiness has paid off.

Tonight I saw one of the caterpillars shed it's caterpillar skin to reveal it's lime green chrysallis underneath. I've been waiting days for this event. It's almost as if the sweet thing waited for me.

It had been a very long day which ended in a very long bedtime ritual. Sullivan was upset because he was both homesick for Brooklyn and wishing that he would never have to leave Vermont. He cried himself to sleep. I was exhausted when I reached the kitchen and sat down at the table to share a beer with our hosts. We were all sipping beverages while reading instructions on how to test their well water and discussing the various hazards of iron, copper and nitrates in water. I wasn't going to check on the jar. I thought I should just leave it alone for the night lest my friends think I was completely looney tunes for staring at this comotose caterpillar. I couldn't resist. I couldn't wait one more minute to see how their iron levels were. I had to go across the room. The caterpillars had to be watched.

As I walked over to the table I could see the one caterpillar that had positioned itself upside down on the glass was kind of jittery. The moment of truth had arrived. It was like my own private Natural Geographic special. Prov came over to watch it with me. The whole process took less than five minutes, I'd say. The skin split at the top of its head and the wet, green chrysallis wriggled like Houdini in a straight jacket dangling by his feet from some insane height. The caterpillar shrugged the skin off like a dirty sweater and let it drop to the leaves beneath. It wriggled a while more before is settled and the appearance of wetness gave way to an oblong, waxy green form with a single whitish ridge near the top. I couldn't believe that I saw it. It was so fast and I could just as easily have missed it. I could have just as easily woke up tomorrow morning disappointed. But I witnessed it live and in person. I actually feel quite blessed for the experience.

Everyone slapped me on the back and smiled. Those are definitely Bree's caterpillars! they said as if they had all been granted Solomon's wisdome for an evening. That's so Bree to be excited about caterpillars.

Is it?

Now there are three more caterpillars left. One other has attatched itself to the cheesecloth lid cutting the same "J" shaped figure in the mason jar's horizon. I have been awarded custody of the butterflies to be. They will accompany me back to Brooklyn where, if they are able to complete the process, Sullivan and I will send them on their journey to Mexico.

I guess my excitement and my interest in these creatures has been fairly transparent. Everyone in the house has caught me staring into the jar at one point or other and yet I stupidly wonder how they could be so certain that my behavior is somehow characteristic of me. What is "me" anyway? And how can they figure it out with such ease when I don't know which end is up anymore? How can they be so sure of what they are seeing?

There is a bat up here in the attic. It is kind of thrilling to see it swoop noiselessly through the rafters eating the mosquitos that would otherwise eat me. There's a dog barking incessantly and I can't help but think about the chickens out back. How is that new chicken coop we built this week holding up? I feel so much outside myself wondering how the hell I became this person? How did I end up with friends in Vermont who are so certain that they know me and, even more miraculous, that they like me enough to invite me into their home? How did I end up married with a kid? I've been wrapped in my own opaque shell for so long, I don't know if I'll recognize me when I come out. I'm not even sure if I'll come out at all. I hope I do.

And I hope I'm not a moth.