A Periwinkle Kind of Weekend…

Periwinkles were in bloom when my first daughter, Paris (pronounced Pah-rhee, the French way, in my head) was born, it was the middle of July, the summer heat had set in and these fragile blooms were thriving…


just as she did!

I had purple and pink ones all over my house and she became Periwinkle-twinkle-toes while they became the symbol of strength and hardiness beneath their delicate petals.

A couple of weeks ago she came to visit us for a long weekend, no dogs…

“Will you make me an Italian Wedding Cake?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “I’ll be making one at Easter.”

“I’m not coming for Easter.”

Oh well, I thought.

We had so much fun.

Went for walks,


“Forced marches really…” she said.

Wandered through the woods,


“Pulled brambles out of the branches and pushed down dead trees!”

Picked up a few items from an estate sale…


…I wish!

“Lifted heavy machinery!” she groaned as the three of us manhandled a large saw and other tools from the back of our truck into the barn.

Helped out with a bus tour at the local winery,

“Froze in the northerly wind and couldn’t hear myself think with all the noisy winos in the tasting room!” She grinned as she sipped her sangria.

Played cards.

“Had to thwart your attempts to modify a totally OK game with rules that helped you win…Madre!” She gave me a high five!

Joking apart we had a delightfully McNeny weekend, attended an art show downtown on Friday evening, made a chocolate cake with bars of chocolate in it,

“To make up for the lack of Italian Wedding Cake,” I said.

Simmered up some killer meat sauce with our grass fed beef, played several hands of card games (which I won without cheating…Figlia!)

Attended mass on Sunday followed by brunch at a French Bistro with our extended family where the buffet was so extensive we made several trips to re-fill our plates.

Best of all in addition to the bread pudding and warm brownie dessert choices there was Italian Wedding Cake,

“I didn’t have to bake you one after all!”  I said as I brought slices to the table.

“Bet it’s not as good as yours!” she said.

That evening as she was hugging me goodbye she pulled back,

“The weekend just seemed to fly by even though I came early on Friday.”

“Yes it did,” I agreed.


“I could do with staying another day!”

“Well then, you must definitely come for Easter,” I said.

“And take half of your Italian Wedding Cake home with me!”


“I’ll swap it for Harley,” I said with a twinkle in my eye!


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