I didn't see my kids (Super Son and Darling Daughter) yesterday, on Mother's Day ... or is it Mothers' Day?? Singular or plural?? Every year I deliberate, as we each have just one mother, but there are plenty of other mothers in the world ... within or without the purview of what I imagine to be a strictly-American, Hallmark-induced holiday.
Anyway, both kids called; it was great to hear their voices. And Mr. Betty and I had his mom and my mom (both Grandma Bettys!) here for the afternoon, so there was no shortage of Mother's/Mothers' Day warmth ... though the day was surprisingly cold. Darling Daughter reported from college that it was snowing, in fact blizzarding where she was. How bizarre, though not all bad, as she was studying for finals, and we all know how hard that is (or was) when it's warm-and-sunny outside.
Back to the point at hand: I took a walk yesterday — big whoop, except that's really important to me, and it was my day after all (mine and all the other mothers'). I headed down to First Beach, i.e. Easton's Beach, where there were lots of mothers walking, most with kids, many with dogs ... and it reminded me of a bike ride. This is my life, at present: walks and bike rides. (I'm not complaining!)
So, I took this nice bike ride last week past First Beach and with two quick rights found myself on one of my favorite, little-traveled streets: Esplanade. From there, it's amazing to look back — not just along the beach to the carousel (makes me dizzy just to think about it) and up Memorial toward town but also across to the Cliff Walk. It's neat to be across from the Cliff Walk, rather than on the Cliff Walk; one gets another whole perspective. And Esplanade is a special spot. I found the coolest driftwood garden and the most appealingly-basic bench, where I parked myself for a minute or two ...
Just one problem: I guess I really wasn't supposed to be there ...
