mother's day

High time for an update, don't you think?

I do write about four blog posts a week. In my head, that is. I've told you all the funniest stories; uploaded brilliant photos which capture the profound and the mundane from our lives; and just generally added interest and beauty to the world. It's a busy place, my head.

As for the actual blog, not quite so much. But what better time than Mother's Day (well, actually a few days after) to start it all again, I ask you.

This is a spray of wild flowers, collected from our garden. My OTL tries repeatedly to burst my heart with his earnest, sweet ways.
It is dangerous being married to him.

This is my fourth Mother's Day and, I must say, I think I'm almost feeling comfortable with it. The first one was like a surreal dream where I was the leading lady on the opening night of a play I had not yet read the script for. I smiled and took a bow, but was wondering when the audience would cotton on that I was making up my lines as fast as I could act them.

Tiny is a dab hand at the adding and stirring. We are still working on the measuring. 

Each year has grown easier. Tiny now gets it in a way that he hadn't been able to in previous years. He was most interested in the proceedings his Daddy had devised for the day. But I also feel less awkward about sharing the limelight a bit with my own mother, who, let's face it, was The One and Only Mother for the first 36 years of my life.

 

Yes, this year there was a degree of relaxed enjoyment about the day.  I still cried (although that is hardly worth mentioning to those of you who know me well) but I now feel more like a mother than ever before. This is probably because I am constantly saying, "No, you can't watch anymore TV," and that has confirmed my status more than childbirth ever did.

The best part about Mother's Day, I realised early, is that I can do the one thing I love to do most: make spontaneous plans and share the fun with two of my very favourite people on the earth (and the dog).

Fuelled by buckwheat pancakes, bacon, egg and toast, we packed up even more food and set off on a road trip adventure to our nearest spot of wild--Lake Huron and The Pinery.

Wending our way to the beach.

The added bliss of a little crochet on the road. 

Like I said, excursions with two very, very favourites (and the dog).

Just in case you were wondering, it was blowing a gale and bitterly cold. But what better way to blow away the ghosts and the cobwebs and embrace the day for what it is?

Needless to say, we had the beach to ourselves. Of particular delight for Dot the Dog was the unfettered access to fish carcasses for her to eat/roll in etc. (She is a mother, too, you know. It was her day to enjoy as well.)

No prizes for guessing what this dog is thinking.

It was wonderful. We walked, ate, walked, ate and toured around places we'd never been before.

I think I could get used to this. Does it only happen once a year?