Skip to main content

Mothers' Day 2015

The Cafe La C'Art is the sweet and savory corner of the Tucson Museum of Art, downtown, built on the site of what once had been the edge--literally on part of the original Presidio San Augustin del Tucson fortress wall dating back to 1775--and we, ourselves of a certain age, decided to have brunch there on Mothers' Day.


Michael joined us to make it an official Mother-Son event.  I joined them to make it an official excuse not to cook at home, and for fun.

We had not asked for a table on the patio because we have lived here long enough to know that it can be hotter than hell in Tucson at this time of the year. That is why many Snowbirds have already flown north in order not to miss the mosquito season in Minnesota.  But, of course, today it is wonderfully balmy; even in early afternoon it is not yet quite 80 degrees F.

 After insuring that we had gotten our fair share from the buffet table, Michael went home to rest from his labors, and Mari and I went to the Art Museum itself, where Gail had left a gift for Mari, just in case Mari wanted to explore the Gift Shop.  She did, after we reminded ourselves what a delightful thing is the Art Museum.





We became members of the Museum, again, reminded again why we had liked it so much on our earlier sojourns to The Old Pueblo, and at the same time promising ourselves, without ties that bind, that if we ever move again it will be to downtown Tucson.  We are easy on that vow, because we live only ten minutes north of there now.

There are the small events--small occasions--in our lives when we plan to do something special--something like a Mothers Day brunch, or a birthday celebration--when it turns out to be just "OK".

Today was not just OK.  It was lovely, and the spell is not breaking.






Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Friends-- My step-father of 35 years died this morning. His name was Conrad Royksund. He was 86 years old. He was born into poverty on a farm near Puyallup, WA. He was the first member of his family to attend college and earned a PhD from the University of Chicago. He paid his way through all of that by fishing in Alaska. He spent his professional career as a college professor. I met him when I was just 3 years old and don't actually have any memories of my life befor e he was in it. He was intimidatingly smart, funny as hell, and worked his ass off. He taught me to meet people with kindness and decency until I was certain they could not be trusted. He taught me to meet ideas with carving knives until I was certain they could. I will remember him as one of the bravest, most curious, and funniest people I have ever met. He left this world with a satisfied mind. We are so grateful. Dan Hubbard
1 comment
Read more

The Sea is Rising

Let us just step back:  two hundred and fifty years ago, or so, the ships of England and Spain had drifted onto a whole new continent, as they saw it, from far north to a savagely cold south; pole to pole, as if there were such things. Millions of people already lived here, some of them still hunters and gatherers; some of them very wealthy, indeed!  Gold and silver stolen from the southern Americas funded Spanish and English dreams. There was land, lots of land, under starry skies above, rich land, and oil and coal and iron ore.  The whole western world learned how to build industries not on simple muscle power, but on steam and oil.  We farmed, too, of course.  All we needed was cheap labor--slave labor from Africa, mostly, so the ships came with slave labor.  Chinese labor built railroad beds where there had been rock cliffs. Europeans, long used to killing each other for good, religious reasons, brought their religious savagery with them. ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Under the Football Stands

There are times and places when and where the Milky Way really is a milky way; a ragged band of light stretching across the horizon.  I still recall--all this time later--catching sight of something much fainter than what you see here--asking my mother what the Milky Way was.  I do not recall her precise answer, probably because it was not precise.  I am not sure that there were many people--seventy or more years ago--who would have said, plainly, that it was what we see when we look toward the center of our galaxy; that our sun--our star--was one of an uncountable number of stars circling about what is undoubtedly a huge black hole, something like a swarm of bees caught in a cosmic maelstrom.   It is to look across the center of a monstrous swarm of stars.  It is brighter in that direction, quite naturally. Just as we had to get used to recognizing that our sun was a star, pretty much like most of the other stars we see, we had to remind ...
Post a Comment
Read more