There are a lot of times when I start a big project on my own and then at some point–usually when I find myself wedged between a large piece of lumber and my garage, flailing around helplessly and hoping a neighbor will come to my rescue– I decide that things might go a little more smoothly if I have a little help. In those instances, the first person I call?
The woman with the hatchet.
I’m pretty sure (judging by the fact that she dressed me in pink saddle shoes when I was a kid) that my mother thought birthing a daughter would mean things like shopping and pedicures and not building pergolas. She also probably never suspected she’d get to dress up miniature donkeys on a regular basis..
So I’m going to say it all balanced out for her in the long run.
My mom is without fail my staunchest supporter. She’s the first person to volunteer to help me move, to help me set hundred-pound pieces of flagstone for a patio, to spend her summer break painting my house, and to immediately and continuously pray for me when I have a crazy moment and decide to buy a 150 year old farmhouse while sitting at a bar on a random Monday night.
So when she said she wanted to come up and relax at the Liberty House for Mother’s Day, I had a great plan. It included mimosas:
My new favorite breakfast– open faced egg-on-a-muffin (recipe here):
Of course when we were done with breakfast, what did she want to do for her relaxing day at the Liberty House?
That’s right. Drink mimosas and weed my garden. (Hey, who am I to argue?)
I’ve been putting in a good hour or two per day just trying to get my acres of jungle under control with the mower, weed whacker, weed spray, bug spray, and various clippers, snippers, shovels, and saws. It’s fair to say I’m not winning that battle, but I haven’t given up yet.
So here’s to my mom, the wheelbarrow full of weeds we picked this weekend, and all of the other projects that wouldn’t have gotten done without her!