HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

Retta, Mother

Father, me, and Chip

I remember one time my mother took my sister and me on a picnic.   I don't think she planned to picnic because we were just out for leisurely drive when she stopped at an A&P, bought a loaf of white bread, a small jar of mayo, and sliced bologna.  My mother loved stone walls and woods, covered bridges, wild flowers that decorated the sides of the road, and the serenity that nature brought her.  At times solitude was her companion. Other times when she craved a connection with nature, she took us to Walden Pond in Concord.  But this day was an impromptu picnic along the side of a wooded road.  She found a spot where we could sit on a rock wall and set out the bread, mayo, and bologna.  Discovering that we didn't have any way to spread the mayo, she picked up a small stick and brushed off the loose bark, dipped it in the mayo jar, made herself a sandwich, and handed us the "knife" to do the same.   Other than fried bologna, this is the best way to enjoy a sandwich.