Mother's Day Weekend

I love how we've started thinking of holidays in terms of weekends (or sometimes weeks . . . and I've even been known to refer to "my birthday month"). Last weekend, our friend, Andy, got hitched! His lovely bride, Kellie, was so very popular and perpetually hugged at the reception, that I had to settle for a groom shot:) I was so excited to be headed to Sandpoint (a super fun daytrip for us as kids). The boys were almost fantastic for the wedding (poor Deacon--who doesn't want to remove their sport jacket and shoes during a deathly quiet ceremony?) I spilled red punch across our table after Bryce had walked across an entire humongous room, navigating merry-makers and a labrynth of round tables--and did not hear the end of it from Phil.
The boys (nb: Deacon's wedding attire was on loan from the Nard-dog himself) were wiped out from sitting and eating, and zonked out for the drive to the most amazing kids' party place, a Bouncey Fun Center. Amazing, safe, clean, loud, and socks required=perfect! We were there to celebrate our nephew, Daniel's 5th birthday (notice the zero photos of the birthday boy, and only one fuzzy shot of Deacon flattening something).
Sunday morning we woke up much earlier than one wants to when on vacation (Granddaddy's backyard birds sure are a cheerful lot), and Phil went for my suggestion of breakfast out at Michael D's, which was serving Mimosas for Mother's Day! In the photo you can see Bryce with chocolate milk and water; both of which he pretended were coffee--Bryce took the photo of Deacon and me.
We rolled ourselves out the door and over to Opa's. He'd recently had hand surgery and was on a hydrocodine-induced cloud nine. Heeding my mom's prompting, I tried sweet-talking him into checking his blood suger. With a Chershire Cat smile he winked at me and boomed, "I'm in a very bad mood today and I don't want to ruin it!" Later we were suprised by some Jehovah's Witnesses making the rounds. Opa saw them approach the door and said [loudly], "Look who's back for my money!" Throughout their visit he'd pull out a wad of rather small bills to rub between his fingers while chorusing, "You want my money! You want my money!" You almost had to feel for these devoted elderly be-tweeded fellows. Finally, they started getting down to business, challenging us all about bible reading. Seeing no end in sight, we thought we'd subject them to some preaching from Bryce--who cheerfully shared the gospel.
Completely amused with our visit, we were then shooed off by a likewise very cheerful Opa, and rendezvous'd with Granddaddy at Tubbs Hill; we trekked the whole loop: Pocklington Cove (our swim destination as kids), suspension bridges, steep overlooks, rockthrowing, mud pits and all. The boys loved it. Perfect weather and company!
All that fast walking worked up our appetites, and we lunched at Moon Time Cafe (another downtown favorite). The boys each got a chance to ride in Granddaddy's truck--so exciting, and then Granddaddy treated them at Figpickles toyshop; Phil had to drag me out of there, so fun. I talked my dad into the playing the steel drum, locked myself in Chinese handcuffs--and had to seek out a bemused family member for aid, and forgot my age playing with magnets until someone very cute tugged on my clothing and said, "Moooooommmmm!" With new four wheeler toys, toy guns, and silly string in tow, I abused my holiday carte blanche and drug my crew of men into the Angel Gallery (totally worth it). Out of deep kindness, I did not take Phil up on his offer to drive across town to TJMaxx (such will power).
Ah, Mother's Day, you have a special place in my heart! See you next year . . .