I'm underwhelmed.

Mothers' Day was pretty much a bust as far as acknowledgment goes. I knew the husband had picked something up. I told him, "No Whitman's sampler or anything like that." He took my gift card that I got for transferring a prescription to the drugstore. The day started normal enough. I put a pan on to boil up some old eggs to feed back to the chickens. I washed dishes. I started laundry. I discovered that my toaster had died. I had slept late, or rather had just stayed in bed listening to the birds and letting my mind wander. Nothing was pressing. I thought about my mom and wondered if she was thinking of my brother who passed away in Feb. He never sent her Mothers' Day cards or called her, so maybe her mind didn't automatically slip to him. I called her late in the afternoon and we talked garden for about an hour.
The husband cooked hotdogs out on the grill. That was nice. I don't make lunch. That's my own rule. If you're home and you're hungry you can find something to eat. My family is ok with that. After lunch I heard the husband whispering something to the kidlet who was now ensconced on the computer playing Runescape. She walked into the kitchen and handed me something wrapped up in the drugstore's plastic bag. She said, "happy mother's day". I asked her if she knew what was in the bag. She said no and walked away. *sigh* It turned out to be a bag of York Peppermint Patties. Don't get me wrong. I like them. They are, indeed, a taste sensation. But...
I drop hints like bombs. Honestly. To the point where I say, "if someone were to get me a gift I would like this" and hold said item up for exhibit. I'm a gardener and a collector of plants...any plant would do. Even a 10 cent pack of seeds. At least there would be some thought put into it. So Mother's day went by without fanfare. My 10 year old child didn't make any attempt to be nicer or even the teensiest bit less obnoxious. No scrawled note on a piece of scrap paper with two stick figures beating the hell out of each other with swords as is her subject matter these days. Nope. It was just another day in paradise.
I spent a lot of time down in the garden because nobody ever comes down there. It is my fortress of solitude except when the neighbour catches me bent over at the waist pulling weeds and eventually makes his presence known. When he got on the phone and started blabbing loudly in whatever language he speaks, loudly, I went in the house and made a couple loaves of banana bread. I chose not to make dinner. I took a long hot shower while the husband heated up the leftovers. Then I took the computer in the bedroom and shut the door. A cat or two came in and required belly rubs. I guess the day could have been worse.

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