Mother's Day

It was both a quiet and an eventful day.  The plan had been that we would meet Ned and Marta at Atria and we would, as usual, go to the Sunday brunch with my mother for Mother's Day.  Remembering Easter, when I thought I could make a reservation and found out they were already booked, I tried to book earlier for Mother's Day, but that wasn't early enough.  They could let us have a table for 4, but not for 5 so we had to come up with an alternate plan.

Realizing how confusing restaurants are for my mother (to say nothing of how expensive on Mother's Day), I decided I'd just cook brunch here.  I told Walt that I had lots of recipes for fun brunch things I'd been collecting, but since we never have brunch, this would give me the opportunity to try them out.

Only when I talked with Ned I found out that he and Marta are doing a month-long gluten free diet, so that pretty much knocked out all of my special brunch things, but it would be easier.  I'd make eggs, bacon, gluten-free muffins and fruit salad.  Ned offered to cook, but being the slob that I am, it was easier for me to do the cooking, then to have him working in my kitchen.

The morning started with a perfect card from "old Wally and the gang"

While Walt went to Mass, I worked on getting the living room cleaned up and setting the table, using the flowers Tom sent to me yesterday as a centerpiece.

I had asked Ned they could pick my mother up and said to get here "any time after 11."  I had my schedule timed perfectly.  At 10:45, I would put the muffins in the oven and then cook the eggs and bacon when they all got here.   Only they arrived before 10:45 and nothing was ready.  Who would have expected that not only would my mother have remembered, but that she would be waiting outside for them, cutting off the "stalling time" Ned had planned on.

But while the muffins baked, we sat and chatted and opened gifts.   I had given my mother a couple of little hand soaps for her bathroom, since I had noted she was almost out, and a basket of flowers.  Ned gave me the perfect card, only it was a birthday card instead of a Mother's Day card.

It's one of the singing cards and the two pinatas are singing in faux opera style with the lyrics like supertitles printed inside.  Funny.  I loved it.  He also had been to the Whole Earth festival yesterday and picked up a magnet for me.

The boy knows his mother.

The food was cooked and we had a nice brunch and while I was loading the dishwasher, starting the first load of dishes, Ned was checking out a box that had come from my mother's old house, which contained things from her high school years, including her Varsity letters (she was pitcher on the softball team, and also played basketball)...

and a giant photo of the entire population of Galt High School in 1937, which she really enjoyed looking through.

After all those things were put away again, the two cards from Walt and Ned were lying on the coffee table and my mother would look at them, pick up the pinata card, ask whose it was, and then jump when the singing started, because she didn't know it was going to make noise.  She did that 3 times in the space of 15 minutes.

It was clear she was getting antsy and Ned and Marta needed to go, so they drove her back to Atria.  I meant to have a 3-generation picture taken with Ned, my mother and me, but forgot about it.  All in all, it was just a nice day.

In the afternoon, Walt rode around putting up flyers for the upcoming beer fest and later, while we watched Amazing Race, I cooked dinner.  Jeri called and she and I had a nice chat, and then Alice Nan called and we had a nice chat.   Then, after The Good Wife was over, Walt staggered off to bed and I got the kitchen as cleaned up as it ever is when I'm cleaning. I was kind of sorry not to hear from Brianna and Lacie, but I will see them this week, so that's OK.

I'm going to sleep content.  It was a nice Mother's Day and she actually seemed to enjoy it, though she had indicated before that she didn't really want to leave Atria.

A Lovely Mother's Day

The only way Mothers Day could have been better would have been for Paul and Dave to have been with us, for the Boston and Santa Barbara families to have been in No. California, and for Walt's mother to have come too.

Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, it was perfect.

We left to rent a car right after Walt got home from Mass.  We don't trust our car to drive distances any more (we have an appointment to look at new/used cars tomorrow), so we rent cars rather than having the expense of a second car on those rare occasions when one car isn't enough.

We left for my mother's later than I would have liked, but we couldn't have gone any sooner, given that the car rental place didn't open until 10 and there was already a line of customers when we got there.

Traffic was sluggish in spots and we didn't get to Terra Linda until 12:30, but Ned was still cooking French toast when we arrived.  My cousin Donna and her husband were there visiting, but not staying for brunch.  My mother gave her one of her violet plants.  She may have memory problems, but she still can make a dead stick bloom, I swear.  Her two violet plants are positively luxurious.

After Donna and Fred left, we sat down to brunch.  Ned had made a great spread for the five of us, which we had with mimosas.

We talked a lot about moving, and about hiring professional movers vs. carrying things ourselves (fortunately, my mother laid down the law:  we will hire movers.  She doesn't want anybody carrying stuff for her.  Yay!)

After brunch, my mother told Ned to just leave the dishes and she would do them later.  He knows how to work her so well.  He said that yes, of course, he would leave them for her to do, all the while he was washing them and putting them away.   By the time we left there were NO dishes to wash and only five mimosa glasses to put away.  I think my mother was grateful, but of course she wouldn't admit it!

Ned said he would take all of her electronic gear, which included a cassette player, a turntable, and speakers and maybe some other stuff.  Everything was in her big entertainment center, which sits caty-corner on two walls, and which is huge.  All the cords to all the stuff Ned was taking were plugged in behind the entertainment center and so, being Ned, he did the logical thing.

He climbed over the top and got everything unplugged.

I took advantage of his needing space on top of the center to remove all of the framed photos that were there and packed them up in a bag. (Those are some of the "all that crap" things that she has been worrying about.) Tomorrow I'll run over to Covell Gardens and set them up on her built-in bookcase, and also put up the rest of the magnets on her fridge.

By the time Ned and Marta left, and I had packed up things to take with me, the house was starting to have the look of a place that was being dismantled.   A little.

Walt went around the house and measured everything that we are moving and has a list with dimensions all recorded.  That will help as we go to the apartment and see if things are going to fit.

Then we sent Walt out to get tonic, because my mother was out of tonic.  We weren't going to be having a vodka tonic, but she would have one if there was tonic.  While we waited for him to return, my mother glanced at her knick nack shelf and, for a bazillionth time said "Look at all that stuff.   Who is going to take that?"  It was a straw that broke the camel's back moment for me.  I didn't get angry, but I got up and packed up every single geegaw and put it in a bag and brought it home with me.  Actually, "all that stuff" is now on my etageres and I don't know who is going to take it all when I get to be 93, but I have 23 years to worry about it.

We heard again about the $500 solid oak table and who we can find to take it (because it cost $500, you know, and it's solid oak! remember!), and she asked many times who was going to take the dishes and I kept telling her that Tom and Laurel were taking them.  She won't remember by now, I know, but if she happens to glance at the door to the dish cabinet she will see it is labeled with Tom's name.   She said Tom had better get his butt up here and take all the stuff because it would be easier to take now than when all the confusion started.  I just ignored that.

Now she has decided that she doesn't really have to worry about "all this stuff" now because after she moves, she can drive down every day to sort it out.  I didn't tell her that she won't have a car and that even if she had a car, there is no way I will let her drive 140 miles in a day on the freeway!   We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.  Her memory right now is so bad that I'm hoping that once she gets in a nice, new, uncluttered apartment, she will forget all about "all that stuff" that she left behind and we can just run it over to the Hospice of Marin thrift store, where she worked for so many years, and give it all to them.

By the end of Mother's Day weekend, I had spent this lovely day with Ned and Marta and my mother, and had spoken to both Tom and Jeri on the phone.  Walt and I had vodka tonics here at home and watched the Survivor finale (if you are a Survivor fan, I highly recommend that you check Wikipedia for Caramoan Islands and scroll down to the section of Survivor.  Quite an eye-opener!), I cooked dinner and then cleaned the kitchen.  I am now writing this and will post it and then watch some of the other programs that were recorded earlier this evening.

As I said, it was really a lovely, low key Mother's Day.

Sunday Stealing

My Compassion friend Michelle, who writes Blogging from the Boonies does something like this all the time, but Sunday Stealing credits it to a blogger named Danielle, from her blog Sometimes Sweet. Danielle doesn't say where she got it originally--but it was probably stolen from somewhere cool.  Tracing back the thefts of those that we steal from could take a while. So, of course, that will be as far as we go. Link back to us at Sunday Stealing!

 

Thinking about:
I'm thinking about tomorrow, Mother's Day.  Ned is making brunch for us at my mother's house, probably our last formal family meal there.  We have to rent a car to get there, but we also have an appointment with a car dealer on Monday, so a new car may be in our future sooner than I expected

Feeling:
Actually, I am feeling two things at the moment:  full and sleepy.  I made chili for dinner and only ate one bowl, but it was filling.  I always feel sleepy at this time of night, that post-prandial sleepiness which will probably go away as I write this.

Reading:
In Audio, I am re-reading "Outlander," Book 1 of the Diana Gabaldon series.   So much is foreshadowed in this book, which I probably first read about 20 years ago, that I'm glad I've decided to re-read it, with the knowledge of what is to come. 
 
As far as "real books," I have two that I am vacillating between.   When I am ready for something a bit more serious, I'm reading a book called "The History of the World in 6 Glasses," which tells how mankind's history has been shaped by the discovery or creation of: beer, wine, spirits, coffee, tea, and Coca Cola.  Fascinating read.

But when I want something lighter in the blood and gore vein, I'm reading James Patterson's "The 8th Confession," part of the Women's Murder Club.  Just started it, so don't know if this is one of Patterson's better ones or if this is going to be one of the books that I toss aside in disgust (Patterson runs hot and cold with me!)

Listening to:
I always have the TV on in the background for "white noise," and right now I'm listening to an old episode of Monk...and Polly whining because she wants me to come and sit with her in the recliner, and I'm not ready!

Wondering:
How history is going to remember this part of our country's life, whether the Republicans are going to be whitewashed or not.  How they are going to explain the calls for impeachment of Obama, the refusal to work with the democrats, and everything else that is frustrating me about this country right now.  Oh to have the benefit of time distance.  I need to find me a craig in Scotland and see if I can try some time traveling.

Looking forward to:
My upcoming trip to Santa Barbara to watch Brianna's dance recital.  I'm sorry Walt can't make it, but it would cost a fortune to put all three dogs in a kennel...and it might just kill Polly, who is now all settled, more or less, into this family, but if she were to be put in a strange scary place with strangers taking care of her, it might set her back years.  So I'll go alone, and come back with Jeri.

Missing:
It's "death season."  I am missing David and Paul.  Seems impossible to believe it has been 17 and 14 years, respectively.

Watching:
Well, I may be listening to Monk, but occasionally I glance to my left and check out what is going on.

Eating:
Nothing. The chili was very good, and served with a tortilla.  I may have a yogurt before I go to bed, but right now the thought of food is not a pleasant one.

Making me happy:
My kids.  Ned is making brunch tomorrow, and this morning a delivery guy showed up at the door with some beautiful flowers from Jeri & Phil, and then about an hour later, an FTD delivery guy showed up at the door with some beautiful flowers from Bri and Lacie, in a personalized vase.

I am so lucky to have such loving and considerate children!

KIss the Cook

"I guess we should get together or something, since it's mother's day," Ned said, graciously, last week.  

I suggested we go to my mother's, as usual, and then called to let her know we would be coming.  She said she would pick a restaurant and make reservations for brunch."

"Feh.  Restaurant," Ned said.  "I'm cooking."

And so he picked me up this morning and we drove to my mother's, where he cooked us a wonderful brunch.

(I should mention parenthetically here that the reason Walt had not joined us for the event was that he has been in London, and was getting ready to fly home.

I had an e-mail from him in the morning, wishing me a happy mother's day, and letting me know that he had been on stage last night.  Apparently he went to see a play, One Man, Two Guvners and during the play, one of the actors brought two people, Walt one of them, up on stage to help carry a trunk.  Here he travels all the way to London and ends up being a stagehand, just like he has been here!!  But I've been telling everyone he made his London stage debut.)

But back to Mother's Day.

My mother was in 7th heaven.  What she loves more than anything else is to be surrounded by living things (plant variety).  Her house looked like a real conservatory.

The flowers in the front are from her garden, those in the back are from my cousin Denise, and the ones between the two couches were sent by Jeri.

Here she is describing the prolific rose bush in her back yard, which is keeping her house filled with flowers.  This one.

Ned finally let us know that breakfast was ready and we came to find a sumptuous feast.

There were scrambled eggs with cheese, English muffins, lots of bacon and fruit salad, plus Greek yogurt mixed with Grape Nuts cereal, and, to drink, Mimosas

.

Though it may look like a Cousins Day photo, the third hand in this picture is Ned's, not Peach's!  Happy Mother's Day to us both.

While we were there, I had calls from both Jeri and Tom and got to talk to Bri for a few seconds before the lure of the Etch-a-Sketch called her away.   Walt's sister had called earlier.

So, it was a good Mother's Day.

Being a Mother

Being a mother is a mixed bag. Sometimes you think you've screwed things up horribly and you wonder where it all went wrong...and then one of your kids writes this to you and you sit there crying thinking--maybe I didn't do so badly after all:

1. She raised 5 kids and still maintains (most of) her sanity.

2. She kept incredibly detailed baby books and a diary of our childhood - so we could look back and see how much we threatened her sanity.

3. She encouraged me to throw pies at other people at a young age.

4. She made bread with her own two hands.

5. She encouraged us to get involved in theatre - and didn't worry if we stayed out late doing it.

6. She came to almost every performance of every little thing I ever did. She even flew across the country to do that, more than once.

7. She let me wear what I wanted to wear, when I needed that independence.

8. IBM selectric: the sound of my childhood.

9. She took in a huge number of foreign exchange students, and that had a tremendous impact on my view of the world - having dear friends all over the world makes it a smaller place.

10. She and my dad took us camping in remote places many parents would be afraid to take their children. And we loved it.

11. She takes pictures of everything, so I have a fantastic archive of my whole life.

12. She always remembers to bring the clam dip.

13. She made me a chicken pox birthday cake when I was five and had chicken pox on my birthday.

14. She threw a lot of amazing Christmas dinner parties for upwards of 20 people.

15. She made me a dolphin costume and a dress I loved, even though she claims not to know how to sew.

16. She made me learn how to type, a skill that is more valuable to me than I ever imagined it would be.

17. She and my dad took me to see plays and concerts from a very young age - giving me a love of live performance that continues to this day.

18. She bought me a clarinet for my 18th birthday, and a flute for christmas.

19. She paid for twelve years of piano lessons.

20. She encouraged me to study theatre in college, and never cared if I made money doing it.

21. She went to more Lawsuit concerts than just about anybody - and never felt awkward in a bar full of drunk college kids.

22. She trusted me to make good decisions in my young adult life.

23. She can drop musical theatre quotes into any conversation.

24. She flew across the country to surprise me on my 40th birthday.

25. She volunteers for all kinds of things, and gives her time to people most people would rather ignore.

26. She has marched in the gay pride parade.

27. She donates blood on a regular basis.

28. She has bottle fed at least a hundred orphan puppies.

29. One of those puppies now weighs 60 pounds and is sleeping at my feet right now - thanks mom!

30. She sends me photo messages almost every day.

31. She mastered the internet long before most of us were even paying attention.

32. She has written a daily essay about herself and posted it online almost every day for the last eleven years.

33. She has a bazillion Facebook friends - and I bet they're all really her friends.

34. She feels very strongly about a lot of political issues - and is never afraid to say what she really thinks, out loud, in public. And she's never afraid to make people angry.

35. She's reviewed about a million plays - and still finds something intelligent and constructive to say about every one, even when she thinks she's out of her element.

36. She calls her mother way more often than I call mine. She puts me to shame.

37. She reads more books than seems humanly possible.

38. She's a really good writer.

39. She's traveled all over the world.

40. She kept up on our grueling walking tour of France and Italy, even when she wanted to give up. And then she came home and started planning her next trip.

41. She's famous in Davis.

42. She cares. And she listens.

43. She sends me little presents, just because.

44. She loves her kids and her grandkid a whole lot.

45. She thought up 45 nice things about me, and that is a really serious task!

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Thank you, Jeri

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.

---

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

Floppies for Mommy

When I was a little girl, I would go for walks with my father and wherever we saw wild flowers growing, I would pick a handful which I would then carry home to give to my mother. "Floppies for Mommy."

It's Mother's Day and each time it rolls around I am overwhelmed with the enormity of the gifts that my mother has given to me over the past 65 years and embarrassed by the realization that I haven't given back nearly what I have been given. So here are some virtual floppies for Mommy. It's not nearly enough:

Thank you for showing me that if you hang on to your dreams they can eventually come true.

Thank you for showing me the importance of being true to yourself.

Thank you for showing me the value of volunteerism, the importance of giving to others.

Thank you for being the only person who supported my decision to enter the convent (and thank you for never giving me a hard time when I changed my mind)

Thank you for freshly pressed sheets, which you seemed to change every day whenever we were sick.

Thank you for pinning paper bags to the bed for used tissues and putting plastic basins next to the bed for upset stomachs...and for cleaning up both.

Thank you for the fun of listening to "One Man's Family" together at night.

Thank you for bringing me comic books when I was in the hospital following my tonsillectomy, and gravenstein apples when I was in the hospital after giving birth to Ned.

Thank you for giving me an example of what a really terrific Mom should be.

Thank you for breaking your ankle so that we could have six weeks to spend together and so that we could establish the Cousins Day routine (Yeah, I know you didn't do it deliberately would would rather that you had not....)

Thank you for giving me an appreciation of nature (even if you didn't pass along your green thumb).

Thank you for teaching me the value of being still and observing things around you...especially birds.

Thank you for being supportive, even when you knew that supporting my decisions would be very painful for you.

Thank you for teaching me that you can survive the loss of a child and go on.

Thank you for reading stories to me when I was a little girl and giving me an appreciation for reading.

Thank you for endless games of Scrabble and Monopoly when I was a child, and for endless games of Canasta and 65 (even if you are ruthless about winning...and cheat to do so!)

Thank you for teaching me to make daisy chains and fuschia ballerinas.

Thank you for teaching me to blow the fronds off of dandelions and for putting buttercups under my chin to see if I liked butter.

Thank you for pancakes with pork gravy.

Thank you for bringing me stacks of books to read whenever I was home sick.

Thank you for hockies and chocolate cream roll.

Thank you for not strangling me when I decided I was going to become an opera singer and spent every night "seranading" you with my skreetchy arias.

Thank you for being a wonderful grandmother to your grandchildren, and for having such a good relationship with each of them.

Thank you for being a wonderful mother to me and for the relationship that you and I have, which I value so very much.

I hope you had a wonderful Mother's Day and I'm glad we had the time to spend together.

I love you, Momma.