It’s been a while, hasn’t it? True to form, May has kicked my ass on every level imaginable once again this year. How is it Memorial Day weekend already? I’m still not done getting the gardens in, the only batch of strawberry jam I made was at last night’s Happy Cook class and when people ask what our summer plans are, I have no answer. None.
What’s been keeping me busy? End of school year stuff – I seem to be in charge of everything around me, including the soccer team celebration – plus all the usual spring activities, like neighborhood block parties (which I was blessedly NOT in charge of), gardening (what was I thinking with two plots, one offsite?) as well as the promoting of homespun. Cville Swaps held a swap at the Charlottesville Cooking School last weekend that my friend John came out and snapped some shots of for an upcoming issue of Edible Blue Ridge.
Last night’s aforementioned class inspired a trip down to Seaman’s to pick strawberries the day before because I wanted local berries in addition to the urge for a roadtrip. The view down there is so worth the trip. I mean, look at it, will you?
I also headed out to Richmond Monday to see a show (Modest Mouse, it was awesome), hang out with an old friend that I hadn’t seen in too long and basically just take a break from life. I find that come the middle of May I need a breather from being in charge. In addition to the anniversary of the loss of my father, there was the first Henry birthday without him. Seeing how those two dates are back to back, I felt like it was way too much emotional baggage for one gal to carry on top of being in charge of everything around me. Something had to give and thankfully that incredibly kick ass husband of mine saw it that way too. Getting out of my usual routine, even for just a night, did much for my spirit.
Oh hey, remember that time I yelled at hippies at a festival, whereupon my family decided it was perhaps best I stay away from hippies and festivals altogether? Monday night, sitting at the bar preshow, somehow the topic of festivals came up and as I was explaining to Damon’s friend Paul why it was considered best I not attend them, it came out that he was just on the other side of old Party Boy that evening. Or should I say morning? Either way, that tale is somewhat legendary among his friends now. I am officially THAT MOM in pretty much every way possible and not just among people who know me. My reputation precedes me as far away as Richmond. Thankfully, it was agreed Party Boy needed to be yelled at and Paul ended up buying me a drink so my lack of inhibition for yelling at dumb asses seems to be validated at least for the time being.
And now for no other reason than cat pictures are supposedly the reason for the existence of the internet, I share with you Edie’s latest photo editing skills. It makes me laugh every time I look at it. Happy Weekend everyone.
Seaman’s is gorgeous. My hubby grew up just around the bend from there.
It’s ok to be THAT mom; somebody has to be!
I suppose someone does have to be, but the realization that it always seems to be me is something else entirely. Oh well. Might as embrace it.
It is SO beautiful down there.