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Happy Mothers Day!

Me and my Mommy

Buttface and Mom

Happy Mothers Day to all the mothers, grandmothers, godmothers, and mother figures out there!

Holidays for our parents are a bit different in our family. My folks are moving into their mid-50s, and are financially well off enough that anything they may WANT for a gift, they can buy themselves. I hate knick knacks, and prefer any gift I give to be practical—why give something that’s just going to collect dust, and will probably go to a charity the next time someone moves? The stuff I’d want to give to my parents—like finishing off their back fence, or redoing their kitchen—is way out of my price range at this moment.

So instead of buying them a bunch of needless junk and trinkets, my brother and I doing something sort of unique.

We kidnap them.

That’s right. For one day, each Mother/Fathers Day and their respective birthdays, Buttface and I shanghai our parents for a full day of hijinx, hilarity, and surprises. They never know where they’re going until the morning of the event.

Memories, in my opinion, are always more important than physical gifts. Never once have I said ‘Man, I remember when Mom and Dad gave me a boom box for Christmas! That was a great day.’ I say “Remember that Christmas when Johnny dressed up as Santa, and Becca stopped by for Christmas dinner, then I got drunk on wine and Grandpa kept doing Drunk Mel impressions? Damn that was a good holiday.”

So we’re making memories.

This year, Buttface and I kidnapped Mom to Great Country Farms, where they were holding an asparagus festival and art show.

I made it down to my hometown about 1030. Of course, Mom and Buttface hadn’t showered yet, so they had to cycle through their daily get-ready-to-go routines first. about an hour later, we were off like a herd of stampeding turtles. (Dad stayed behind to get some things done). But not before a run into McDonalds for coffee—I had a killer caffeine deficiency headache going on. Once the headache was conquered, we headed out to Bluemont for a day at the farm.

We had an absolutely beautiful day. The weather was gorgeous. Asparagus were on sale for $2.99/lb—their green and

Buttface and Eddie

purple spears poking out of their bin in the general store brought edible truth that spring is finally here. I showed Mom and Buttface around the main area of the farm. Eddie the Emu was still there, and the new piglets were nearly doubled in size since the last time I had been out. Mama Pig laid in the mud, not moving as her piggy babies ran around the pen.

“She must be tired,” I mused outloud.

“No kidding. She’s got six kids. I’ve got two and I’m still tired,” Mom replied.

After lunch at GCF’s “Roosteraunt,” we took in a small show by a local kid’s theater troupe. I don’t know who he is, but to the 6-ish year old boy in the crab hat dancing to Under the Sea, sir, you stole the show.

Across the road from the Farm is Bluemont Winery—a great vineyard associated with GCF, located 951 feet above sealevel. The drive up is a bitch on the transmission, but totally worth it for the view. On clear days, they say you can see the Washington Monument on the horizon.

The winery was having a local art show in the lower pavilion (maybe only 500 feet above sea level—still a spectacular view), so we walked through, gazing at the gorgeous paintings and photos. A short drive further up the mountain brought us to the wine tasting room, where the owners were offering free tastings to CSA participants. And trust me, there is nothing better than free wine.

Bluemont Winery offers about 7-8 wines, each named after a barnyard animal. They were, on the whole, some of the best wines I’ve tried from that region. We ended up coming home with five bottles—one cabernet sauvignon, two merlots (one from ’08 and one from ’09), a bottle of strawberry wine, and a bottle of blackberry.

Oddly enough, I loved the berry wines. Normally, I hate fruit wines. They’re way too sweet, and they remind me of the nasty ass cough syrup my mother used to make me drink as a child. But these are something different. With only about 4% residual sugars, they don’t qualify as dessert wines, and to me, taste like they sit on the drier end of the wine scale.

Wine bliss.

Mom and I ordered a glass of wine each, an awesome block of oregano cheese, salami and two baguettes. Sitting on the veranda, we just…relaxed. Two kids and their mom, taking in the vista. I think we sat there for almost an hour, blazing through the food, laughing, and just talking. There was no rush, there were no timelines, deadlines to meet…just calm. Even with the 15 or so full tables buzzing with people, it was calm.

Needless to say, my diet was totally shot to hell this weekend. (And will be shot further into hell once dinner is over tonight. Dante’s gonna need to write up another few circles to describe how far into hell it’s being shot. Trust me.) Pulled barbecue sandwiches, potato chips, organic ginger soda, wine, cheese, bread, salami, and pie—my jeans are gonna be tight this  week, that’s for sure. But you know what? Totally worth it.

Happy Mothers Day!!

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