Blooming

All of Denise's orchids are blooming!

The tiny pink was a gift from our Thrivent agent, when we had to meet on her birthday. The pale green was a rescue given to her by a former Braille/personal assistance client, one of the white ones belonged to her mother, the other two were left at our church after they'd stopped blossoming, and she took them home to rehabilitate.

I'd say it's a sign of spring, except they bloom randomly throughout the year. I think they just like her.

Mom

This is my mom, with Patches the cat, the day before her 90th birthday. She's still living at home, though my brother Tony's half a mile down the road, and comes to bring in wood for the stove and drives her to church and on other errands.

Mom's 90th birthday was last Saturday, and my niece Bethany decided to organize a party. It's perhaps indicative of how successful and well-attended the party was that I never once thought of getting my phone out and taking a picture. Too busy catching up with my brothers, nieces and nephews, around thirteen first cousins and their spouses and families, my last surviving aunt, various friends and neighbors.

I totally missed talking to my mom's cousin, my stepdad's brother and sister-in-law, the church friend who helps my mom in and out of the pew, the neighbor who delivers meals from the county. Like I said, busy.

My brother Tony provided the food, pulled-turkey sandwiches, home-made smoked sausage, potica. Bethany provided the slaw and sides, and my cousin Jeannie decorated a beautiful birthday cake. The local historical society wrote her up in their spring newsletter, and included her potica recipe. She didn't see why anyone would come out for her. Over 70 people begged to differ.

The kindness of strangers

We flew to Wisconsin and back last weekend, and I have to give props to all the folks from Delta Airlines. Denise's knees are not up to long airport walks, and I was able to arrange wheelchair assistance for all the transits between gates when I checked in online. I was also surprised, flying out on the second leg from Seattle to Minneapolis, to find that we'd been moved from the back of the plane to more manageable mid-section seating. Returning from Minneapolis, we found our original non-adjacent seats (she was in 33B, I in 33E) had been changed, so we could sit next to each other. And on the last leg, from Seattle home to Eugene, the gate agent, completely unasked, shifted us up to the first row of seats behind First Class, where we'd have extra legroom.