Michigan is a long way from Texas, but Hurricane Ike drove rain at us all weekend. The swamp in the backyard is now several inches deep. My husband and I didn't let the rain stop us from our weekend bike rides. The roads weren't too slippery for our mountain bikes, and once your clothes are soaked, a little more rain doesn't matter.
On Sunday, we had an early birthday celebration for my mom. Her birthday is tomorrow. I made salmon (her favorite) and rice. I had green beans and salad fixings from the farmer's market, and I baked a chocolate cake.
It never rains in southern California, so Mom hasn't had to go out in wet weather for decades. She called and left a message saying she didn't want to come. But when I arrived, she had face powder and lipstick on and was changing her blouse. I got her into the elevator where another visitor complained incessantly about having to drive in the rain, despite my shushing pantomime from behind my mom's wheelchair. My husband drove the car right up under the awning, and Mom didn't feel a single drop. (What a guy!)
Note added at 11:20 AM
This morning when I visited my mom she said, "I went someplace for dinner last night."
I told her it was at my house.
"You're the one with the two big boys?" she asked.
Memories come and memories go, but this time the important part stuck.
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