I checked on them this morning, and they were all still there, my sweet grey cygnets paddling around with Mom and Dad. I still feel kind of like Snow White.
Tomorrow night I'm going to see my favorite author, Elizabeth Berg, at a bookstore in Wellesley with my Mom. If you've never read her, I suggest starting with Joy School or The Pull of the Moon, my two favorites. She has a way of capturing characters that makes you feel like you know them intimately - what they eat for breakfast, what kind of mailbox they have, how they feel about rainy days, what kind of pajamas they wear. Her stories are always interesting and compelling, but mostly, its who she chooses to people them with that always fascinate me. I'm so excited that my Mom is going with me to see her. We don't always have similar tastes in books (she loves medical thrillers and Dean Koontz-type psychological thrillers), but we have shared some favorites. (And if I tell her that I especially love one, she will always read it - most notably Anne, Joy in the Morning, the Harry Potters, and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, the last of which always reminded me of what she must have been like as a girl.) And it was my mom, more than anyone or anything else in my life, that inspired and supported my love of reading, and among the many things I appreciate about her, this is very high on the list.
And speaking of my Mom, we are going with Auntie and Katie to NYC for a girls' weekend away at the beginning of June, and I can't wait! We're seeing 9 to 5 and Guys and Dolls, and staying at the Marriot. I hate to admit it, but one of the funniest sights in the world is Mom and Auntie after their second martini, and I love a chance to take my Mom out on the town and help her to relax a little. She loves a good time, and really appreciates and values a "moment," (another thing I can thank her for instilling in me), and a trip to the Big City is chock-full of Mom-Moments.
Now, to find just the right gay bar to take them to...
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