Yes, I had an amazing Mother’s Day weekend. It all began with International Night where I learned plenty of lessons for how to do a better job next time, such as 1) just make pelmeni, that was everyone’s favorite of the FOUR Ukrainian dishes I served, 2) there isn’t room on the table for a lot of crafts and objects, sadly, and 3) stamps are easier than stickers. Look at all those boiled beets, boiled potatoes, boiled eggs, and boiled carrots for “Olivier” and beet salad.
On the super plus side, I borrowed authentic Ukrainian costumes for the girls and me from one of my voice students.
After international night, we still had time to go to BBQ on a double date with our friends. I love life now that some of our friends have kids old enough to babysit. Sweet deal.
I spent many hours Saturday dragging more invasive vines out of my woodland tree tops. I asked the tree company to do it, but they said it was too much work and they would rather just cut the trees down. We have some very nice wild blossoming cherry trees, a cute floweirng crabapple, a decent honeysuckle, oh, and various other things I haven’t identified, but would like to keep. So I had the tree people cut the vines and remove the brush they could.
Then I cut my arms and legs to ribbons (despite leather gloves, long sleeves and jeans) pulling hundreds and hundreds of yards of vines from the trees. It was really, really hard.
And almost all of the vines were covered with thorns of Biblical proportions.
Pulling them down took a week. Bundling them and hauling them to the curb took half of Saturday. While Kent took the boys for haircuts and then mowed the lawn right through a swarm of ground bees, I sort of rolled the vines into giant balls. It was rather like building a snowman composed of hatred and pain. I hauled most of the epic thorn balls to the street Saturday, and despite Kent’s skepticism that the brush pick-up would take it all, they did!
I finished with that just in time to take a shower before our dear friends visiting from Virginia Beach arrived. I figured out how to use the timer on my camera finally, so now we actually have a picture with me in it.
Salty is asleep, and Peppers is freaking out because he ran away while the camera was flashing for the first attempt, and everyone yelled at him. Most of the time, I don’t think about how tall I am. It’s whatever. But then every once in a while, I see myself in a picture with my friends like this and think, Dude, I am so freakin’ tall.
Mother’s day morning Kent made me red flannel hash from the Henrietta’s Kitchen cookbook, our favorite restaurant in Boston, and he did a great job! He was totally self-conscious about it, and kept saying it wasn’t that good, but I thought it was awesome. I was like, “This is awesome.”
My kids gave me presents and tons of love and cards. We went to church and then to the park for climbing and flowers and matching polos. It was glorious.
And then we came home and Betty Draper Francis, mother of three including a 4 year-old, got terminal lung cancer. On Mother’s Day. Thanks for completely ruining my buzz, Mad Men.
Technically, this picture is from last week’s Lockheed Martin’s
Supernerd Family Day, but I just love it when life captions your photos for you.