Happy Mother's Day!

There are few things I'd like to do today.

First, brag about my awesome Mother's Day Loot.
Maisy painted me a wonderful tile and made a great picture frame at pre-school. She even managed to keep it a secret all week, I'm so proud :) Matt and Arlo got me a pair of chicken salt and pepper shakers from the local antique mall. They are the perfect addition to my collection. (you have seen the collection, haven't you?)

Second, Here is the finished bag for my mother-in-law. At first I was worried that the fabric would be too busy, so I thought I would pair it with some nice linen fabric and make something subtle. Well, since there was no decent linen to be found (at a reasonable price or in town) I said to heck with it and made the whole bag with the birds. And I loved it!!!! I loved it so much that I contemplated being a selfish, selfish girl and not giving it to my mother-in-law. Lucky for Kathy, I didn't let my evil side win over and she loved it too.

Third is my favorite "mother" poem. It's written by the fantastic Billy Collins. If you haven't read any of his work, go out and read it right now! I'll wait........

This poem, I think, speaks to not only the mother in everyone but the child too.

The lanyard

The other day as I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room
bouncing from typewriter to piano
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
I found myself in the "L" section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word, Lanyard.
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one more suddenly into the past.
A past where I sat at a workbench
at a camp by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid thin plastic strips into a lanyard.
A gift for my mother.
I had never seen anyone use a lanyard.
Or wear one, if that’s what you did with them.
But that did not keep me from crossing strand over strand
again and again until I had made a boxy, red and white lanyard for my mother.
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted teaspoons of medicine to my lips,
set cold facecloths on my forehead
then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim and I in turn presented her with a lanyard.
"Here are thousands of meals" she said,
"and here is clothing and a good education."
"And here is your lanyard," I replied,
"which I made with a little help from a counselor."
"Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth and two clear eyes to read the world." she whispered.
"And here," I said, "is the lanyard I made at camp."
"And here," I wish to say to her now,
"is a smaller gift. Not the archaic truth,
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took the two-toned lanyard from my hands,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless worthless thing I wove out of boredom
would be enough to make us even."

(billy collins)