Sweetness

There's my very glamorous mother and me, circa 1965. Why were many of our mothers so much more glamorous than us?

Happy Mother's Day to you if you're a mother, if you wish you were a mother, if you're grateful for your mother and if you wish your mother had never been born, and in that case, the Universe is your mother and happy, happy to it, too.

I've had a lovely Mother's Day morning, gifted with a wishing bracelet from Oliver that he tied on my wrist. Evidently, my silent wish will come true when it wears off. I'm already so excited by that wish fulfillment that I can't stand it! Oliver also wrote me the sweetest of letters. Here's what it said:

Dear Mom,

I love to the bottom of my heart or something like that, but that's not the point. The point is you are awesome and I love. I got you this bracelet so wishes can come true. Happy Mother's Day!

P.S. I wouldn't trade a mom like you for anything!

Henry gave me this stunning watercolor of Yosemite that he made himself! He knows that Yosemite is probably my favorite place on earth. Who knew that glamorous boy could also paint?

Sophie came home from school on Friday with a little package that I opened today. It was a gorgeous beaded necklace, and when I exclaimed over it and thanked her, she smiled! I know she liked it, however little or much she contributed to its making. Here, let me go out into the backyard, crouch down in all my glamour and show you what it looks like:











Never mind:

I also made myself bacon, ate four slices with one egg and two slices of toast, one with butter and the other with jam. It was a fine morning that catered both to my capitulation to the commercial aspects of the holiday and general f*^kyouery to the inevitable disappointment in its very unrealistic expectations. That might have been one of the most poorly written sentences in the English language, but you get my drift. I think.

And now, on the sweetest note, here's a photo from last night of Oliver (the best Mother's Day present one could possibly receive, thirteen years ago!) blowing out the candles of his Chocolate Peanut Butter Cake with pigs in the trough: