Mothers Day

I remember Mothers Days of my childhood. It was always a big deal. My father always bought some expensive gift (usually lingerie) and he, Karen and I would go downstairs to the basement with our gifts and I usually did the wrapping.

The basement had been carved out of the hill on which our series of flats was built. It had no finished walls or floor, but were just dirt, and you couldn't stand up straight when you went inside the door, but had to hunch over until you reached the tiny work area, where it was larger, wider, and taller. There was a narrow work bench and a table on one side and big pipes on the other side. At the back was a door that led to the "real" basement, which was down lots of stairs and actually belonged to our landlord. My father got to use the tiny upstairs area.

I loved wrapping gifts and was pretty good at it. When they came out with stick-to-itself satin ribbon, I learned how to make ribbon roses and loved doing that. So my father was always happy that I could wrap a fancy looking package for his gift (it was one thing I did that actually seemed to please him!)

I don't remember where we had dinner on Mother's Day. I don't think we went out to eat. For all I know, my mother had to cook her own dinner for herself and my grandmother. But maybe not. Maybe those times that we went to Grisson's Steak House or the House of Prime Rib on Van Ness avenue were for Mothers' Day dinners.

Things were different as my generation has reached adulthood and started families. Once our kids were old enough to handle Mothers Day on their own, Walt was free to spend the day with his mother, reasoning that I wasn't his mother so there was no need to do anything for me. It has worked out well. He spent most Mothers Days with his mother and I spent them with mine. His brother and sister-in-law followed the same rule -- Norm would spend Mothers Day with his mother and, when she was alive, his wife spent the day with her mother.

And so it was that today I drove to San Rafael to take my mother to brunch at the San Rafael Holiday Inn. We took her friend Paula with us. The Holiday Inn does a really nice brunch which starts with the usual champagne.

Then we ate ourselves through several different feeding stations:

Left top are all the hot egg dishes, from blintzes to eggs Benedict, bacon, sausage, potatoes, French Toast and even pasta dishes. Then next to that are cakes I didn't try. Lower left are tarts, with fruit, strawberry and chocolate mousse and then at the bottom right is Tiramisu.

On the left is the ice station, where there was beautiful shrimp and some salmon with every sort of garnish. On the right is the carvery station (roast beef and ham) and at the back the omelette station.

We managed to eat ourselves into glutony and rolled out the door about an hour and a half after we got there.

Before we went to brunch, I talked with Phil about Lester. He's flying out here tomorrow and will return to Boston on Saturday, taking Lester with him. I'm so glad they are finally going to meet each other. I don't think Lester is as excited about it as I am, but then...she hasn't met Phil yet. She's gonna love him. I hope it's unanimous.

I finished my Harry Bosch book on the way home and started another Michael Connelly book (not Harry Bosch) that I'd downloaded yesterday. And I was home for the finale of The Amazing Race and a nice chat with Tom (and Bri, who was in the bathtub at the time).

All in all a very nice Mothers Day.

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NOTE: Tomorrow is Cousins Day again, so the next entry will be late.