Helllooo all you mothers and motherlovers! You may not be one, but you certainly have or had one, and this will be a Mother’s Day like no other. No restaurant brunches, very few flowers delivered. Maybe a card? Personally, I’m not a big fan. As a daughter, I never seem to get it right, and, as a mother, up until quite recently, I’ve had to orchestrate things myself. I remember one Mother’s Day, when John was away on business, the kids convinced me to take them golfing, then clothes shopping (for them), then out for dinner, and then at the end, I thanked them for a lovely day. Well played, young men, well played.

 

Nowadays, the boys rally and make a fine dinner for me, and they do write the sweetest and funniest cards, every one of which I’ve kept, so I can take them out and re-read them when they’ve put me in a home and forgotten about me. As for my mother, I bought her a new Ipad, so she can continue to send me hilarious chain letters and memes and jokes she’s found on the internet.

 

Speaking of which, let’s take a look in the email bag, which is quite mixed today. There’s Margaret, who has three friends from childhood: Geeta, who’s in Toronto, Judy in Wales, and Alison in Australia. They all get together for Zoom chats every Thursday, in 3 completely different time zones, so coffee for some, wine for others. Gordon writes to tell me that he’s an accountant, and accountants should be getting the same recognition as frontline workers because they have to work around the clock come tax time. OK, Gordon. I’ll bang a pot for you this evening. Lori writes to say her hair is thick so she doesn’t need chickpea shampoo. Christine sends some kind words, and Kathy want to know if I’ll continue to blog after quarantine. Yes, Kathy, I will, but perhaps not with the same frequency, as I hope to be busier living life as opposed to just writing about it. But we’ll see.

 

So nice to hear from Pat B., a longtime listener who asked about the crab-less crab cake recipe I posted this week. You can substitute the hearts of palm with roasted artichokes, or do half and half, which I did. Pat is dealing with a huge Covid related disappointment. Pat and her husband had planned a massive, once-in-a-lifetime family trip to Portugal for 21 people. It took years to organize, not to mention a significant amount of hard-earned money spent on reservations and plane tickets, none of which they are guaranteed to get back. I’m so sorry, Pat! Sadly, you are not alone, but still, it hurts. People will say “Oh well, at least everyone is healthy” but after a while that’s cold comfort.

 

Likewise, we are dearly hoping to get to the cottage on the long weekend coming up, but everything is still up in the air. The cottage country mayors and full-time residents are understandably concerned about us city folk bringing our cooties to their land. Premier Doug Ford has asked that we refrain from going, but, like a bunch of teens planning a party, we’re all like “well he didn’t come right out and say we CAN’T!” In our case, it all comes down to whether our local marina is in operation, as we need our boat to get to the cottage. If it is, we would go straight to the cabin, bringing all our supplies with us from town, visit and talk to no one, stay inside to avoid the black flies, spend the weekend cleaning and repairing things, then go straight home. Sounds like a blast, doesn’t it?

 

Oh well. At least everyone is healthy.

 

Happy Day, Mothers.

 

 

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