Yesterday, I was showered with one dozen yellow roses (my favorite- a tradition from Rigby) homemade cards, chocolates, gifts, hugs, kisses and deep gratitude.  And to top it off, our FAB FIVE  didn't even fight.  I love being a mother.  It is a constant adventure!

Mother's Day Always makes me think of my mothers and grandmothers.  This next piece I wrote about my grandmother Lucile Evans Hofheins

Grandmother sits in the old, white timber house
Her wrinkled fingers consistently in motion as she pieces the tiny squares together.
Her words, as always are few.

Sitting there, her eyes speak to me in the same voice
as the day of my birth- she was the first to hold me.
It's as though she pieces our live together in the colored fabric.
Yesterday it was my mother's wedding quilt she readied.
And through the years, for the rest of her children,
and then her grandchildren.
With each quilt a phase of life began with the piecing
                                        and then ended with the binding.
The laughter of all is present in the motion- up and then down.
     Every square is perfectly quilted in.
     And the teardrops of sorrow and happiness
dance upon the material as the squares gain in number.
     Soon this quilt will be done,
And its owner will have a treasure of my grandmother.
Up and down, the needle continues
             The thimble, her only comforter
Just as she my silent grandmother has been ours...