100

In my family, we're all focused on this singularly memorable fact: my mother turns 100 today.

I told the kids yesterday that, to my knowledge, I'd never met anyone who was 100 before. Have you?? We read about these people. And I remember hearing that in the past you got a postcard from the president (or was it some other famous celebrity?) when you turned 100. My mother received no such card. I'm sure the practice stopped once it became more commonplace to reach that mark. And yet, I never met anyone who did reach it.

The birthday girl kept emphasizing that she did not want any celebration. She is not one who likes celebrations of any sort and we haven't ever celebrated this day before for that reason. Well, I mean, depends on what you call a celebration. Most people who claim that they don't want a fuss on their birthdays actually don't mean that you should ignore their day and in that my mother is no different. She welcomes family calls, cards, etc. So it's a spectrum: Ed is on one end and quite a number of family members are on the other and my mom is somewhere in the middle I suppose. (It's much easier to deal with people at the extremes. You need say or do nothing with Ed and he wont be disappointed. You bring gifts and bake cakes for those who love birthdays and they wont be disappointed. The middle? You're always going to come in not exactly right.)

Anyway, it's her birthday and she is 100.

And it is again a day that should be spent outdoors because it's just stunning weather! 

I can plunge into planting!  But first, I bake an apple cake. This cake sounded so good for a November breakfast that I just had to whip it together. With cinnamon and walnuts. I send Ed to get cupcakes -- a more appropriate birthday treat from Batch Bake Shop for our visit with my mother this afternoon.

(Breakfast time. No, not on the porch! That ship has sailed and wont be back until May. But cosy and sweet at the kitchen table.)

And yes, I do mean our visit. Again, this is tough to figure out, because normally my mother is not keen on visitors. But I tested the waters and she seemed up for this (maybe)... 

(I'm thinking about all this during my quick and dirty bike ride, where the colors of winter grasses and of cranes blend...)

And so as soon as school is out, I pick up the two older kids, and the parents pick up the youngest guy, and Ed scoots over on his motorbike and we all meet up at my mom's place...

... for an uncelebrated but acknowledged birthday of great significance, if you're counting years, which she is not, maybe. Or maybe she is, but isn't saying.

(Ed snaps this one...)

Afterwards, I take the older two out for ice cream. There are many reasons to choose this day for it and at the top of the list is, of course, the perfect ice cream weather. And my mother's birthday, though she doesn't venture beyond her home and doctor's offices so it's just me and the kids.

From there, I take them not to the farmhouse but to their house, where I hover for a while with my books, fruits and other typical gaga paraphernalia. 

In the evening, I exhale. The day could have gone in any number of different directions but I think in the end we all agree that it went in good ones and my mom's birthday is now 364 days away and the next birthday for us, a December one, belongs to the youngest member of my family which is, well, exciting. The baby of the clan always gets extra attention because, well, she's the baby!

with love...