Mother’s Day. My 16th. It’s been a ride, that’s for sure.
Jane, you were so tired today. You were out until 5am with your drama buddies, as last night was the closing night of the play, and you had strike, and then went to Denny’s after to hang out.
Daddy made eggs benedict for breakfast, as is our tradition. And this year he made the yolks “nice and juicy” as George described them. It was delicious. Always my favorite.
I had some work to do editing some photos from a party I photographed last night. I had a lovely time editing and watching movies on Netflix.
I couldn’t decide where to go for our annual shoot, then decided upon our courtyard, since this will be our last mother’s day here. I’m starting to feel a little nostalgic about all these familiar places that will soon be part of our past.
We went for Pho for dinner. I was hesitant to go out, but daddy convinced me and I’m glad we did. The soup is perfect comfort food and was a great way to end the day.
George, you quoted a poem for me tonight:
Roses are red
Violence is blue
Mom, oh mom
I love you