My Maternal Repast

Happy Mother's Day!  It was a stellar one for me, all around.

There was the morning walk, where I had myself a much needed heart-to-heart with the Lord about a couple of rather large areas in need of excavation in my life, against of backdrop of blue skies and cool morning breezes in tall treetops where the rat-a-tatting of a downy woodpecker could be heard.  My oldest child, scheduled to work all day, presented me with a lovely card of soft greens and browns which fit me to a 'T'; yesterday she surprised me with 'Early Girl' and 'Super Cherry 100's' tomato plants as I'd yet to find time to do my annual garden shopping.

Next came the visit to my Church at Cross Point family after a three-week absence for sundry reasons where I reconnected with a good friend I'd not seen in a rather long spell: I do believe we have urgent plans to get together ASAP.  Then it was on to my own mother's place with my own two younger children for some Taco Bell/Starbucks bonding time (her small town has neither place, both of which are favorites, so this was a special delivery).  One hard taco fresco, one soft chicken ranchero fresco, and a tall nonfat misto with hazelnut, extra hot, please!  My daughter and I had to slurp through a chock-full-of-healthful-goodness bowl of my mom's chicken soup -- this stuff is replete with healthiosity, veggies and flavor abounding!  It makes the tummy smile.  Mom sent me on my way with a hug and three healthy starter plants of aloe, shamrock, and African violet.  Score!

Finally, to top off that lovely three-layer cake of good feeling, I enjoyed the cherry on top drive to, and adventure at, Nana's and Larry's farm.  Nana is my neighbor's mom.  She is an avid country cook, warm and casual hostess, grandmother extraordinaire, and along with her husband, she lives on a pastoral piece of property in the rolling hills of Middle Tennessee which can't be beat with a big ol' stick.  There's a roomy barn, a pond with its own ducks and a dock and small boat with oars for paddling about, and a comfy house atop the hill at the end of the gently winding driveway.  Cows, goats, and braying donkeys can be seen and heard on all sides.  The annual vegetable patch is well on its way; tomatoes and squashes are a'comin'!  Here, happy dogs with tongues lolling and fur coats damp from wrestling on the banks of the pond live to chase the multitude of mousing cats . . . and the 'mule' which roams about the farm with all the energy its drivers can muster.  (Not an animal at all, this golf-cart/mini-truck-like vehicle is a favorite for both kids and adults in equal measure.  It zooms and zips and stutters about with playful exuberance.  We mothers like to give the "Slow it down!" shout-outs every now and again.)

After snapping shots of my 'avid fisherteen' -- she bagged a 4-inch crappie which I believe is the exact same slippery little sucker one of the little boys caught about five minutes after she released it -- in her curvy short dress and snazzy sandals, dark hair extensions exaggerating the already plentiful curls on her head, I moved up the hill to take my rightful place at the dinner table.  It was here that I weighted my plate with baked beans, corn casserole, mac n' cheese, green bean casserole, oh goodness, um, ham and pulled pork, er, yeah, and potato salad along with a small dinner roll.  I think I snacked on a piece of cheese and a bit more pork while waiting for my turn at the microwave.  (We arrived after mealtime.)  Hey, I worked up quite an appetite on the drive over, taking in the countryside while my teenager executed her chauffeurial (it's a word now!) duties with great aplomb.

Before we returned to the big city life, my kids roamed about on the mule while I roamed about searching for cans and deciphering the meaning of life with my neighbor.  Her husband regaled us all with a few barnyard imitations which bounced off the hills and echoed throughout the acreage.  I topped of my tight bellyful of carbs and meat -- did I mention the tasty porky burps I had for an hour after that? -- with a generous slice of creamy lemon meringue pie in a graham cracker crust.  Thanking Nana and Larry for their open house and welcoming ways, we pulled out of the driveway with two smallish extra passengers in tow.  All the way home, I could hear their rambunctious giggling as my son teased out their youthful energy with silly words, perennial favorites like 'booger burger' and 'tomato toes,' and funny pictures of them sucking their tomato toes and crossing their eyes on my iPhone.

As the last rays of sunshine fell below the hackberry trees, I noted with great pleasure that my husband had completed the second half of the backyard path he'd started yesterday, laying the flat stones in the gravel and adjusting them level.  This was especially wonderful as this project actually began last summer and went on hold when winter hit.  Did I mention it was me who started this labor- and time-intensive endeavor?

Now, as the clock hits ten in the PM, I sit here, half laying if truth be told, with my perky pink laptop, doing what I love best.  Or pretty darned close. 

What could be better?  I mean, besides the porky lemon belch which just entered the airspace of my quiet bedroom.