Mothering Sunday

It's Mother's Day in the UK, or as it's often called, "Mothering Sunday." Even though I am not a mother in any way, shape or form, I celebrated by having a lie-in, sleeping until 7:30, which is pretty unheard of for me. I woke up at 6:30, glanced at the clock and thought, "You know, I'm just going to lie here for a few more seconds." And before I knew it, an hour was up.

I found the little paper cone above on Friday, on the sidewalk next to a bus stop and overground station. It was obviously someone's school project for Mother's Day, complete with a little daffodil. I debated what to do about it -- it had already been stepped on and given that the child in question was probably already on a bus or train I decided to pick it up and bring it home. I showed it to Dave and he said with his usual wry economy, "Some kid is bawling right now."

I wasn't sure whether the daffodil would open, given that it was a bit smushed, but it did...

So, kiddo, whoever you are, please know that your creation brought me happiness, even though I am not your mother. (I think I might take the paper part back and tape it up somewhere near the bus stop, on the off chance that the kid will pass by again and recognize it. Then they could at least bring that part back to Mom.)

This was yesterday's project -- spiffing up the front garden. See that bundle of sticks on the sidewalk in front? That's the dead bush that I removed. It was so dead that I pulled out the stump by hand. I chopped it all up and put it in a yard waste bag, and then planted a hydrangea in the dark middle of the garden and a buddleia where the dead bush used to be. And I pruned that big heather in front, which was largely dead inside and needed some spiffing up.

Here's the "after" shot. I hope that hydrangea isn't in too much darkness, there in the middle, but if it struggles I can trim things around it to bring in more light. They usually don't mind shade.

I had the last of the front porch squash for lunch, blending it into soup form. I was in a race against time to use it up, given that I had to abandon it in the fridge while I was in Florida, but it is now all gone.

Then I gave the grass its first haircut of the year! And I did some trimming to neaten things up in the garden, though there's still plenty more to be done. I have three full yard waste bags and that's the most the council will take per week, so any more work will have to wait.

Finally, I repotted two purple heart plants, combining them into a single pot. Do you remember how the windowsill in the library was overflowing with purple heart plants, all from cuttings from my big plant? Well, I brought several of them back home, in preparation for my retirement and because they were badly in need of new pots. I now have five pots here at home filled with purple heart -- not counting three still in the library, which will stay there after I leave. That stuff is a blessing and a curse! But you know how I am about cuttings. I have a terrible time throwing them away when I know I can root them so easily.

I also polished off two New Yorkers, and I was struck by this essay by a father whose son has transitioned to become his daughter. The dad is pretty much an ideal liberal parent, but he writes openly of his own perplexity at the changes in his daughter's life, including some unconventional relationships and a move overseas. I found it a sympathetic and realistic account of a parent navigating the lives and choices of grown children in today's complex world.