Spring Sunday

Okay, Easter with my daughter by the Pacific was pretty cool. But our post-Easter celebration, which my husband is calling Peaster, had pleasures of its own. The green beans were crisp, the potatoes were soft, and a perfect few slices of lemon cake were leftover. The two teen girls were happy as ever to hunt for eggs, and even found one they missed last year. At my end of the dinner table. we managed to work in a small discussion about Little Women. And our friend Jess, whose smile is like a light bulb and who starts her yoga classes saying things like you should thank yourself just for showing up – as upbeat a person as you can imagine – cracked me up when she said her all time favorite book is The Brothers Karamozov, which I remember as being about as dark as prose can get.

A good day. The dogs shared the ham bone. And I made the baby smile.

My husband took this picture of four generations of his family, with his brother on the left, his brother’s son holding the baby, and their dad on the right: