Mudders' Day

It all began, as these things often do, with my Mom and her sisters Ginny and Kitty on our deck.

Mom and Kitty and Ginny at our house!

After a quick tour, we all went to the Tavern for the Kentucky Derby and had a hilarious -- and quite lucrative -- time, but that's a story for another day.

On Sunday morning -- Mother's Day, which I always thought should be Mothers' Day, and on which my nephew once famously said to Jacquie, "Happy Birthday, Mudder!" -- we hosted a lovely little bruncheon right here in New London.

Everybody contributed to the Table of Love, and it was quite spectacular. If I do say so  myself. And I do.

It was a fabulous morning and we all fit -- barely -- on the deck in assorted sitting apparati.

Yay, Mudders' Day!

We were so happy ol' Mumsie could make it, too, after a week of not feeling great. Okay, after a week of feeling mighty poorly.  Yay Mumsie!

The clouds rolled in, and although my Aunt Kitty and my friend Dawnie love clouds, they can threaten the peace and serenity of an outdoor bruncheon.

Actually, they did more than threaten: they dumped their contents upon us. About six different times. During which we all piled into the kitchen, waited it out, wiped off the furniture, then sat back down outside. We're intrepid that way.

The day continued along in its merry, mad way, and then it all ended, as these things often do, with MB and The Dowd on our deck.

The four of us may have gotten a little silly.

What? You got a problem with UConn?

National Champions, baby!

No*1!

We missed our Mudders when they left, but we carried bravely on.

We're very brave, especially when the pear tree is in full regalia.

Speaking of spring, Mistah recently repotted the cactus he got as a kid, which was a tiny wee little baby cactus way back then.

And now it's 47 years old.

Oh, and he's male.