Memories

Today I ate some dried apricots. It took me back instantly to the summer I turned 20. I did a 7 week study abroad program in London. I loved every minute of it. I was there with all fellow Humanities majors, which meant that an afternoon spent lost in a museum was our idea of heaven. Every Sunday, dinner began with a tray of little foods, chief among them were the dried apricots. They were plump and delicious. Don't ask me what the entree was. I have no idea.

Recently one of the Spinster Sisters spent a month in Europe, which included about a week in London. She called and said she had a free afternoon. What should she do? Lunch from Cafe Diana's (hello, Chicken Tikka sandwich!) eaten in Kensington Gardens (preferably at the pond in front of the palace), followed by an afternoon at the Tate gallery, a candlelight concert at St. Martin's in the Field (with bonus points if they were performing The Four Seasons), and ending with a jacket potato and friends in a pub. What I wouldn't give for an afternoon in London. Curly and I hoped for our 10th anniversary we could get over there. Maybe for our 15th.

My mom has been reminiscing on her blog lately. Today is the 40th anniversary of my parents engagement. Congrats to them. My parents are a wonderful example of partnership, respect, and love in a marriage. This Mother's Day marks 18 years since my mom's big MS episode that put her in the hospital for a week. The Thursday before, my dad picked me up from play practice at school. The show opened the following day. While sitting in his black Mazda Miata (that would soon become my wheels and therefore my favorite part of High School), he told me that what was happening to my mom could either be a stroke, a brain tumor, or MS. "Obviously," he said, "we're hoping for MS." 18 years and a few minor episodes later, MS has again reared it's ugly head. If you want a glimpse into the strength of my mom, read this post.

I've had a few bad days and some stressful circumstances. Who hasn't? But if there's one thing my mom has taught me, it's that big girls don't wallow. They take a shower, do their hair, slap a smile on their face, and get on with life. Pulling up some fun memories, like eating dried apricots in London, doesn't hurt either.

For those who have made it through a long post with NO PICTURES, I thank you. I will have photos tomorrow of some of the things I have made for the craft show. I'm giddy about it all.