Happy Mother’s Day

 
Mom and me, the day of her brother’s wedding, 1968-ish.

From my mother I got:

my face
my love for and ability to cook and entertain
my love of reading (although I remember my dad teaching me to read)
my sense of style
my need to make a house a home
my work ethic (she shares that 50/50 with dad)
my ability to be frugal when needed and make the best of a bad situation
my compassion
my ability to be a good sport, especially at card and board games
my preference for British costume drama (and afternoon tea and other British things)
…and my love of nerdy sci-fi.

Mom and me, sailing in Long Island Sound, 1987-ish.

I did not get:

Her way with houseplants. I kill them all.
Her unwavering faith. I question, question, question…
Her patience. Need to work on that.

Thank you Mumsie, I love you. Happy Mother’s Day!

Recovery room

{The Garden Room at Agape Bed & Breakfast, Yarmouth Port MA}

I am very grateful that when I travel for work, I get to stay in hip 4- and 5-star hotels. They are stylish and modern and functional, but sometimes their manufactured newness bores me. I am fortunate, though, to have a cousin who owns a charming B&B on the bay side of Cape Cod. For this visit -- a three-day post-Chicago recovery + Mother's Day getaway with my parents and sister -- she's tucked me in to the pretty pink and white room pictured above, with a lovely white iron bedframe, wide-board floors that creak and slant in all the right places and -- one of my favorite luxuries -- a clawfoot tub in the bathroom. It is the epitome of "girly" and I love it.

This morning I walked down the road to the used book store, later I will venture to the interiors shop across the street, and then my mom and plan to go for tea at the little restaurant up the road. I believe this evening's entertainment includes a private performance of "living-room ballet" by my cousin's five-year old daughter (whom I have plans to kidnap and take home with me, but that's a story for another posting).