Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Over the weekend my family climbed Mount Beacon to celebrate Maria's birthday. It was a beautiful day despite the weather. On the top, the kids had a great time as we searched for a letterbox.

Mom and I picked flowers yesterday and made this floral cake that I'll bring to the cemetery later today. As we drove down the road with sharp eyes for daisies, Mom kept wanting me to stop so she could pick flowers from front lawns. "We can't," I said. "That's someone's yard." It must have upset me because last night I dreamt Mom picked beautiful daffodils from in front of a beat-up old airstream trailer. "Look," she said. "I'm sure these just are here." As she collected a nice bouquet an old man ran out the rusted front door, screaming. He was holding a bag of manure in his arms that he kept taking handfuls out in a fist and throwing it at us. "Pick my flowers?" he yelled. "Pick my flowers!" I woke up laughing.

Birthdays are hard to get your hands around. There aren't scripted customs. I think we're on to a good start. Home made flower cakes and family hikes up mountains.
Happy Birthday Ria. We love you.

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