An Italian-American living la dolce vita in the Deep South

An Italian-American living la dolce vita in the Deep South

Thursday, May 18, 2017

How do you do Mother's Day?

Here's my opinion on Mother's Day: I enjoy the attention.


Let's face it. I can be a mom martyr for 363 days of the year -- running here, driving there, being at everyone's beck and call -- but on Mother's Day BRING IT ON.


The attention, I mean. I don't need gifts (although that's a nice perk) and I don't need to be taken to a restaurant (I actually prefer pizza and a movie), but what I do like is the same love and attention that I get throughout the year but ... more of it. Pile it on. The thicker, the better.


Shameless, I know.


So this year Mother's Day began with Cinnamon Crunch Bagels from Panera because, really, is there a better bagel out there? I know, I know. Carbs. Calories. Yadda, yadda, yadda. But that's why I only have them on SPECIAL occasions (the last time was New Year's Day). So in my world Mother's Day is most definitely and emphatically a bagel occasion.


Served with a cappuccino. Can't have one without the other.


After breakfast we took a mid-morning hike/stroll through the woods and along the Savannah River. To be sure, it's a route I take often, sometime alone or sometimes with Joe, but on this day EVERYONE came. No one complained and no one was in a hurry to get home, so for the time we were climbing up hills and over tree logs they were mine, mine, MINE!


And I don't mean that in a heart-two-sizes-too-small Grinch way, but in a Henry Wadsworth Longfellow "in the round-tower of my heart" kind of way.


After the hike my heart was full (well, the bagels helped, too) and I was perfectly content to spend the rest of the day curled up with a good book. But after lunch Joe had a very Mother's Day-ish idea.


"Let's go walk around the Morris Museum of Art," he suggested.


Whoa.


Now, I could have insisted that the boys come, too, and they would have, but the whole idea of Mother's Day is to highlight the fact that Moms are pretty great. And understanding. So I kissed the boys goodbye and left them waging some battle on the PlayStation while I went to the museum with Joe.


At the museum we lingered in the two rooms featuring art by James Michalopoulos whose painting are so rich with color and texture that they blew me a way. I loved his work, and I would highly recommend going to see the exhibit except this past Sunday -- Mother's Day -- was the very last day. Sorry. But I did take lots of photos . . .


So there you have it. Mother's Day was all about bagels, a walk in the woods, and an art museum. Nothing complicated, but pretty darn nice.














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