Quickly asserting herself as head puppy babysitter.
Mom flew down from Canada to lend a hand two weeks after my surgery when two important catering gigs were scheduled back to back.
Bringing in the wedding groceries can be full workout with Dax's assistance.
Knowing me well, she even packed clothes for me to wear to the event.
How can a woman who lives and breathes fashion have a kid like me? I appease her, yet insist on wearing my running shoes.
I'm no show horse, I'm a bona fide work horse, with canine sidekicks...
And a tireless mom. The wedding venue's kitchen isn't available to us, at the last minute, we relocate to two vacation rentals 15 minutes away. Adapt and overcome, speed like a maniac and sweat a lot too. We snatch victory from Murphy's jaws. Sweet, sweet success. Totally worth the 2 AM to 10 PM work day.
Doesn't Mother get one night off? Hell no! Our one night before prepping for the next event, we are stranded by the side of the road with the puppy, no less. A neighbor comes to pick us up. Back at the farm, I throw her up on the tractor with me. She's trying to communicate, but I'm focused on getting my F-350 off the road by dusk.
No pictures, sorry.
I back up to chain my truck to the tractor when she points out that she's never "been towing" before. Minor detail. Long story, my truck does NOT get vandalized on the side of the road because I never leave a man behind (or truck). Might give mom a coronary in the process, but that's OK.
Welcome to farm life.
Whatever you need done, she's on it.
The list of recipes for the next multi-day catering gig. Mom, don't faint, it'll be fun. Only half the recipes are complicated, perhaps maybe three quarters.
She knows she's in trouble when I pull out the duck fat to make pie crusts.
A simple homegrown blackberry pie--I can find ways to make it complicated!!!
The Mexican taco night can be made more interesting if we go out to harvest cactus from the property to make a roasted cactus and corn salsa.
Fiesta! Three types of homemade salsas, corn tortillas fresh from the taqueria, Mexican bean salad and pastel con tres leches (three milks cake, my absolute favorite dessert).
By the fourth day of frenzy in the kitchen, Mom espouses the belief that two chefs in the kitchen can ruin the roux. Her initial relief that a simple cookie recipe was on the docket was quickly quashed when I explained two hours are needed for one batch. "First you take the pecans locally harvested two weeks ago and roast them in the oven-- Mom, where you going???"
They are very much worth the effort. As are the bacon tassies made with cream cheese crusts.
Still she plugs on, not beating me with a rolling pin or frying pan.
That's a mother's love.
On the last day, we power through the last mounds of dirty dishes and rest.
No. She is adamantly going to finish her projects. She's only here for two weeks, yet she's assigned herself two doozies on top of the catering.
The guest bedroom gets a redo. My 250 year old bed frame isn't a standard size, the double mattress I had on it kicked out on one side, forcing guests to sleep clinging to one edge not to roll off the slope. She buys her own foam and cuts and glues herself a bed.
The remodeling project goes on simultaneously to her garden overhaul project. My half acre orchard finally gets the TLC it deserves. For days she tends to the trees, weeds and enlarges their bases with mulch. Offering to help, I'm curtly turned down with: "you won't do it to my satisfaction". She cracks me up.
Here she is scolding me for allowing my fruit trees to become shade trees! Our Private is really a three star General in disguise.
With her own presidential motorcade.
How do I reward such hard work: Road Trip!
Seale Drive Thru Museum of Wonder. Doesn't she look impressed?
OK, so no one is impressed.
For my next trick: Roosevelt State Park hiking!
Here we go from unimpressed to slightly homicidal.
Nice try, but Uber can't save you out here. Ever seen anyone hiking with a purse? Me neither, as I said, she cracks me up. That is until she turns the tables on me and takes me for her kind of day trip: shopping.
Shoot me now, I'm at Bed Bath and Beyond.
Now, she's a happy camper.
And the two weeks were gone too quickly. I love you, mom.
Bringing in the wedding groceries can be full workout with Dax's assistance.
Knowing me well, she even packed clothes for me to wear to the event.
How can a woman who lives and breathes fashion have a kid like me? I appease her, yet insist on wearing my running shoes.
I'm no show horse, I'm a bona fide work horse, with canine sidekicks...
And a tireless mom. The wedding venue's kitchen isn't available to us, at the last minute, we relocate to two vacation rentals 15 minutes away. Adapt and overcome, speed like a maniac and sweat a lot too. We snatch victory from Murphy's jaws. Sweet, sweet success. Totally worth the 2 AM to 10 PM work day.
Doesn't Mother get one night off? Hell no! Our one night before prepping for the next event, we are stranded by the side of the road with the puppy, no less. A neighbor comes to pick us up. Back at the farm, I throw her up on the tractor with me. She's trying to communicate, but I'm focused on getting my F-350 off the road by dusk.
No pictures, sorry.
I back up to chain my truck to the tractor when she points out that she's never "been towing" before. Minor detail. Long story, my truck does NOT get vandalized on the side of the road because I never leave a man behind (or truck). Might give mom a coronary in the process, but that's OK.
Welcome to farm life.
Whatever you need done, she's on it.
The list of recipes for the next multi-day catering gig. Mom, don't faint, it'll be fun. Only half the recipes are complicated, perhaps maybe three quarters.
She knows she's in trouble when I pull out the duck fat to make pie crusts.
A simple homegrown blackberry pie--I can find ways to make it complicated!!!
The Mexican taco night can be made more interesting if we go out to harvest cactus from the property to make a roasted cactus and corn salsa.
Fiesta! Three types of homemade salsas, corn tortillas fresh from the taqueria, Mexican bean salad and pastel con tres leches (three milks cake, my absolute favorite dessert).
By the fourth day of frenzy in the kitchen, Mom espouses the belief that two chefs in the kitchen can ruin the roux. Her initial relief that a simple cookie recipe was on the docket was quickly quashed when I explained two hours are needed for one batch. "First you take the pecans locally harvested two weeks ago and roast them in the oven-- Mom, where you going???"
They are very much worth the effort. As are the bacon tassies made with cream cheese crusts.
Still she plugs on, not beating me with a rolling pin or frying pan.
That's a mother's love.
On the last day, we power through the last mounds of dirty dishes and rest.
No. She is adamantly going to finish her projects. She's only here for two weeks, yet she's assigned herself two doozies on top of the catering.
The guest bedroom gets a redo. My 250 year old bed frame isn't a standard size, the double mattress I had on it kicked out on one side, forcing guests to sleep clinging to one edge not to roll off the slope. She buys her own foam and cuts and glues herself a bed.
The remodeling project goes on simultaneously to her garden overhaul project. My half acre orchard finally gets the TLC it deserves. For days she tends to the trees, weeds and enlarges their bases with mulch. Offering to help, I'm curtly turned down with: "you won't do it to my satisfaction". She cracks me up.
Here she is scolding me for allowing my fruit trees to become shade trees! Our Private is really a three star General in disguise.
With her own presidential motorcade.
How do I reward such hard work: Road Trip!
Seale Drive Thru Museum of Wonder. Doesn't she look impressed?
OK, so no one is impressed.
For my next trick: Roosevelt State Park hiking!
Here we go from unimpressed to slightly homicidal.
Nice try, but Uber can't save you out here. Ever seen anyone hiking with a purse? Me neither, as I said, she cracks me up. That is until she turns the tables on me and takes me for her kind of day trip: shopping.
Shoot me now, I'm at Bed Bath and Beyond.
Now, she's a happy camper.
And the two weeks were gone too quickly. I love you, mom.
