I can’t think where the idea for this story came from. I remember wanting to write about dogs (I never seem to have just the right dog story, I know now that they come fit into a story where I least expect it). And I wanted to write about those little yellow butterflies. I do know I’d wanted to write about mothers and daughters too, since my daughter and I have a loving but spiky relationship.
Still, Elvira and her family are nothing like mine, remembered or imagined. Once Elvira started to confide in me, the story was off and running, and I had all I could do to keep up. I did a lot of laughing while I was writing, my husband kept commenting on that, and now when I reread it, as I did to come up with bits and pieces for this page, I still laugh out loud.