41 (and Mother's Day).

So... this is 41. Horrific black eye and all. 

To be fair, it started with breakfast in bed. Seth even made homemade whipped cream. A lovely touch, even if it was at like 6:30am and ended up with obscene amounts of nutella on our freshly washed duvet.

Also to be fair, this happened and instead of insisting the tickets get off their sleeping Dad immediately, I paused to take this picture 

and then I took a Ford skull to the orbital socket. 

So my birthday/ Mother's Day got off to an inauspicious start.

But it ended like this,

with a side of BFF t-ball,

a bike ride complete with (strangers') sprinklers,

a truly incredible flourless Godiva cake, 

and hangout time with this handsome guy. 

And Mauka.

When one throws in a Birthday Eve lake picnic,

which was unseasonably chilly but which included bundled-up paddling anyway;

my birthday/ Mother's Day was "practically perfect," as Mary Poppins says, "in every way."

40 was a year of growth and rebuilding and new beginnings. Who knows what 41 will bring (besides a weeklong- no kidding- celebration)? 

 

One can only grasp for silver linings these days, and hope that the next trip around the sun with this crew includes more of our renewed appreciation for (local) chill family time outside, with nothing on the usually-packed agenda;

reveling in things you never outgrow, like bubbles

and front porch pizza;

lots of family time, even if it means sharing workouts;

quality time with friends-who-are-family

(even their babies);

Murder, She Wrote on the couch (this was my birthday night, with Seth, an end to the day for which I was incredibly grateful);

and new adventures.
With travel currently on the back burner, lately that has meant Ford's burgeoning boxing career

and my attempts to get weenies roasted at the lake on a windy night when all I showed up with was dollar store charcoal and a lighter.

Thank goodness for our green beret.

It was a week of killer photos, but this one of Ford telling his "big girl" crush (in his best Seth voice) "you don't want to close your eyes when you jab" (bless her heart, she listened);

and this one of tailgate boxing at the lake

stole my heart.

Cheers to 41, to inadvertent and totally worth-it black eyes, to everyone who called and texted and sent best wishes and amazon gift cards which shall be spent on ridiculous things, and to another year of the chance to live and love big (even if we have to venture small).

Local Businesses and Naked Cinco de Mayo.

This week we discovered the delightfully down-home, fortunately open, and incredibly 8 minutes from our house Spivey Farms. And picked strawberries to our hearts' content, although I never did get a decent photo of said picturesque activity.

Thanks to the ten pounds of strawberries we made off with, Finley's breakfasts looked like this for awhile. Plus homemade crepes.

We also made these, and basically feasted like kings.

We spent the rest of the week, when I wasn't stuck at work, playing board games (Ben and Lisa, seriously, this is like Tierbaby Lotto and it's at Target instead of on ebay for $200);

making valiant attempts at socially distanced chalk art shows;

sneaking in a pool session with our quaran-team;

and playing in sprinklers, because NC "spring" (read: summer) is upon us.

We're also, within the mandate of the NC Stay-at-Home Order which includes exceptions for "outdoor activity," making efforts to patronize companies that are managing to stay open responsibly. 

One such is Endor Paddle, which provided terrific contact-free tubing dropoff and clean equipment on the nearby Deep River.

Seth took one for the team in a big way, but we had a great time on the (still chilly) river as a family

and discovered a part of Lee County we would likely never have explored otherwise.

Our "local business quest" also took us to Angier, NC, close to where I went to law school and where F+F and I discovered Sunni Skys Ice Cream;

were attacked by ferocious ducks and geese;

and managed a solid 15 feet on Finley's bike without training wheels (or tears).

We realize we're behind the power curve on this, but she's a really big chicken.

Seth also chose this close-quarters time to begin his massive and malodorous kitchen fish-pickling operation, much to my chagrin (and his peril if it keeps up),

and we squeezed in as much lake time as we could, with temperatures dropping and work schedules likely to return to normal soon.

We had lakeside Cinco de Mayo fish tacos tonight, one of our best and sandiest celebrations yet,

and I took the (uncensored) photo of the week and maybe of the decade, of Finley and Ford being... Finley and Ford.

Hope everyone is hanging in there.