On My Mind Monday

The city is a cathedral of possessions; it's scent dreams. Even those who have been rejected by it cannot leave.

James Salter

Light Years

Jess and I spent a full 24 hours in Chicago. We are simpatico travel companions. We both questioned why we don't travel to this curious city more often, yet we were both ready to leave after our short stay full of new tastes, experiences and ideas.

Grateful Friday

Today I give thanks for...

This book is finally taking hold. It has not been easy to get into and I must get out of it by June 1st. I think I can I think I can I think I can.

PMA.

Lily's idea of happy hour. Mine too. We share a love of Kopps' Mint Chip custard. We did not share a spoon.

I think there's still some left.

We attended our last choir concert of middle school and probably forever. In fifth grade, the risers were full. Four years later, it's this small group of diehards that remains. I'm grateful that she remained committed to the magic that is making music.

Self-expression.

Another impressive week of golf for this guy. Here he is at Whistling Straits...The Irish Course. He shot a 44 on the front nine and then a 36 on the back nine. That 80 earned him fifth place and his team second. Mike took the day off to walk the course with him, and I think he had more fun than Teddy.

Passion.

Fields of gold. I've had a few great morning walks this week. I'm especially fond of the river trails where it's peaceful and pretty.

Roads less traveled.

Barbari bread. 

Trying, and mastering, new things.

My writing companion.

Simple salads. The basil is from the plant on my counter.

This decades old picture of me. My memory of this place is still fresh.

weekending

the weekend started out on the right foot.
candace came for happy hour and then jess came for chinese takeout.
we have just discovered the deliciousness that is singapore noodles.
i was up early saturday, but ted was the first one up and out.
he had a golf meet that he came home from with an amazing 70!
his low score gave him a natural high.
saturday morning i took lily shopping for an graduation dress.
she tried on 5 before finding the one.
it's perfect for the theme, which is color splash and looks lovely on her.
i was willing to continue the spree, but she had plans with girlfriends.
i decided to shop for ingredients in order to try some of the persian recipes i'm thinking of for my book club dinner.
it was a cool, rainy day so perfect for putzing in the kitchen.
it was only mike and i for dinner so it was perfect for trying strange new things.
strange and delicious new things.
we really enjoyed the yogurt and saffron soaked kebabs and the tomato and turmeric rice. 
hostiles, our movie selection, was lackluster.
sunday i was up early to prepare for a post-church breakfast we were hosting for my dad and my step-mom.
i kept it simple since it was impromptu and the real focus was on sharing mass and exchanging flowers.
the menu included teddy's favorite easy eggs benedict...too bad he was gone golfing.
(don't worry i said it was ok.)
i also made yogurt parfaits and a simple green salad.
my step-mom brought the pastries.
the highlight was looking through old family pictures.
mike went to see his mom early afternoon.
as much as i love my mother-in-law, i couldn't pry myself off the couch.
i put on terms of endearment and started to cry before the movie even got sad.
it's one of my favorites and, of course, it reminds me of my mom.
my mom and her mom actually.
i needed the pity party.
lily did not appreciate my choice.
my guy made ribs for family dinner at my request and the best part of the day was our time together.
my kids gave me a beautiful waterfall orchid and cards that made me cry all over again.
it was a good weekend, but i'm okay with the fact that it's over.

The Middle of the Night

I was up in the middle of the night last night. I didn't feel well. As I tried to get comfortable in bed and convince myself that I didn't have to throw up, I thought I heard birds chirping. Now it was nowhere even close to dawn so those tweets and caws got my attention. I peeled myself out of bed to go to the window where I confirmed I was hearing birds. Songbirds. I know all about the dawn chorus, but now I'm familiar with the dead of night chorus too. It's lonely and often unnerving to be the only one up in the middle of the night. I can work myself up about all sorts of things when the house is full of shadows and strange sounds. Last night I listened to the birdsong and was soon sung to sleep for a few more hours of sweet dreams. I didn't think about the boogey man or my bank account or my belly.

About the same time Sunday night I was woken from deep sleep with a startle. I was sure I heard a gun shot and that it was just across the street. Tigger, who was asleep beside me, jumped and I could feel his fur swell under my hand to twice his normal size in an effort to appear more intimidating. Mike woke too. He assured me it was just thunder, but it wasn't until another crack sounded that I felt assured. Assured despite the fact that this boom was even louder and closer. I felt such relief that my kids were tucked in safe and sound down the hall of our dry house. That I know where they are and what they are doing is an easement. It's not that long ago such a nighttime disturbance would lead to a parade of tears and fears. Instead, Monday morning we all carried on about the intensity of the line that we listened to from our own beds. Turns out we all were awake in the middle of the night.

Mother's Day

This is the very first picture of me with both my babies. Proud big brother is meeting hours old baby sister for the first time and I am one happy mama. That smile says, "If this is a dream, don't wake me."

I still feel that way at least 10 times a day. The love I have for my children is a living, breathing stream that flows through me continuously. The abundant joy they bring me is how I know that I'm doing a fine job. 

There are times I get on my case about doing more and better, but then I look at them...what beautiful people they are...and I know that even though I'm flawed, I've passed on the parts of me I'm most proud of.

The words they wrote to and about me in the cards they made me today...well, they tell me that they see the best parts of me and that is the only gift I'll ever want or need.

Some mothers wait their whole lives to hear the things they told me, but I'm grateful I don't have to. I'm also grateful that I told my mom the things I needed to when I did. You never know when it's simply going to be too late.

I had a good day. Mostly happy, but a little sad. Bittersweet. It's the way I'm wired and it's my legacy too. My history. My story.

Blue

Every spring my mom hung baskets of sweet bluebells on her porch. The sometimes periwinkle and other times violet blooms looked perfect with her blue and white bungalow. When I moved into my own quaint bungalow, she would deliver a couple baskets to me every Mother's Day. Yes, before I was even a mom. They popped against the pale yellow and lannon stone facade and they flowered all summer long. They were happiness in a basket.

The spring after my mom passed I visited her nursery to see about getting some bluebells myself. This tradition was one of many I felt more than compelled to continue, but the clerk had no clue what I was talking about. I scoured the perimeter of the place never to find what I was looking for. It felt like another death. I burst into tears. I had angry words with you know who about enough and fairness and breaking points.

I made phone calls, I searched every other nursery in the area, I prayed. That spring I had to go without my bluebells. It was a lesson I was becoming familiar with. I heard my mom many times in that confusing season of rebirth. She said, "It is what it is." That was her line.

Fast forward a year, maybe two. I'm at this massive nursery in the middle of nowhere. To this day I'm not sure in what town despite the fact that I've made my way there every year since. I just get in my car and head in that direction and will my way to Groths. It seems I never take the same way twice, but I always find my way. I find my way there because they have my bluebells. Only they're not exactly called bluebells. They're called strepto carpella and that explains a whole heck of a lot, but, of course, they'll forever be bluebells to me.

Last year I was too late. I waited too long and all the bluebells were hanging on other homes. I was under the false impression they grew them just for me. I've never seen them in any other yard or garden ever. I was sort of devastated. I left with nothing except sadness.

That was not happening to me this year. I've been thinking about my bluebells, worrying about them,  and talking about them. My guy heard me. He drove out to Groths after a long day at work to pick up three and bring them home to me for Mother's Day, and it was just about the nicest thing he could have done. Except, then last night he brought my babies into the garage to protect them from the cold and I fell in love with him all over again.

I'm missing my mom something fierce this year. I'm pretty sure the many happy milestones we're celebrating remind me so poignantly of my loss. In the excitement of taking prom pictures of my handsome 6 foot something son or shopping for an 8th grade graduation dress with my long-haired, leggy daughter, I feel this quiet sorrow. It's there too when I watch my son at the altar receive the gift of the holy spirit knowing that so much of this faith journey started with her receiving her last rites. It's present when we move forward further from lives she was a part of...lives she loved being a part of. That's the thing: no event or occasion was too small or insignificant for her to miss. She wanted to be there for all of them. They all mattered. And as much as I miss her as my mother, I miss her a million times more as their nanny.

Grateful Friday

Today I give thanks for...

Meeting a good friend for happy hour last night and staying until long after dark catching up on our lives, and the fact that we could have closed the place and not run out of things to talk about.

As I'm writing this Peanut is curled up at the foot of Lily's bed. Tigger's in my bed, but the other night when I went to turn off a sleeping Teddy's light and computer, he was curled up next to Ted. This is not usual. The cats love the kids, but they don't often venture into their rooms for long. This sort of tickles Lily.

I just texted this picture to her at school.

Lily presented her graduation speech to me and I was impressed by her delivery and her message. She compared middle school to a game and her classmates to teammates. Her message was that this game is over, but there are new games and challenges in the purview. She urges her classmates to get up off the sidelines, make new teams and strive to win. She's a brave, kind, wise one that girl of mine.

Lily on the mound. I love cheering on team pony tail. It was not a win, but a close, competitive game.

 Nice form.

Strike!

Both Ted's AP exams went well. Chemistry is known to be nearly impossible, but he thinks he passed. Psychology was also challenging, but less so. Junior year is winding down. High school is winding down.

Sheet Pan Spanish Chicken. It's a one pan dinner with so many flavors.

This Carbonara Pie cooks in a single spring-form pan, but I had to use three pans to make it. It was a fun experiment, but I think I'll just stick with traditional carbonara when we have the taste for Parmesan and pancetta.

 That salad dressing is our family favorite: Dijon, balsamic, EVOO and S&P all to taste. Minced garlic if you like.

A little crunchy and dry. The kids didn't love the broccoli incorporated within.

Churros cake, and the fact that when Teddy's friend heard I made one, he suggested he might like a slice. I sent him home with 2 huge pieces. Compliment my cooking and it's yours.

It makes up in taste for what it lacks in appearance. It's almost gone too.

I found saffron at Costco this week. Reading Lolita in Tehran inspired me to read Lolita and also to learn more about Iranian cooking, which inspired me to buy some saffron. Reading Lolita in Tehran is our June book club selection. I'm hosting and I'm planning to serve a Persian dinner. This weekend I'm going to try my hand at Barbari and Lavash breads.

Oh, the things this will inspire!

I finally finished listening to The Woman in the Window. I'm sorry I cannot give it more than a 2. It was not very well written or compelling. It was predictable and far too long for the climax. I started The Great Alone this week. This I'm going to devour.

I picked up the cutest pair of pants the other day. A Mother's Day gift to myself and I think I'll wear them on Mother's Day. A cute new pair of cheaters too. They are black frames with bamboo arms, and I think they look good with my blond hair.

They look good on Lily too.

The way he let's her hold him like a baby.

Their love is special.

Kitty paws.

Cuteness overload!

A really great day in Madison with my guys. It was emotional too on many levels and for many reasons, but suffice it to say that I am grateful for them all.

If this hill could talk.

Sunsets.

Endings and beginnings.