(Please pardon how late this is getting published. I was offline for the weekend and almost forgot to get it off my flash drive and publish it.)
As has happened in a lot of years gone by, my mom’s birthday falls on Labor Day, this year and of course I took some time over the weekend to think about her. As happens with so many others I didn’t know I’d want to talk to my mom so much until she was gone. She died a few years back, and it’s struck me how many times in the last two years alone I wish I could have called Mom, maybe to ask about a recipe or some other kind of food thing (she was an incredible cook), maybe to ask her about something on my mind, or perhaps just to call and ask my Mom how she was doing. She was always busy with a lot on her plate, and I have no idea what her days were like as she started her eighth decade on the planet. Our folks divorced when I was but a wee kitten, putting our mom immediately into the role of working mother just to do what she could to make sure my brother, sister and I had as close to a normal childhood as we could. more “Thoughts of Hearth and Home on this Labor Day Weekend” …