Well, it has been a busy, busy Spring. I spent the day before Mother’s (or Mothers’ Day) being muddy, wet, and cold at Cylburn Arboretum’s Market Day. It’s a lovely event, however the weather did not cooperate. At least I did not get sun stroke.
This weekend was absolutely gorgeous, and spent it in Rockville, Maryland. (Yes, it’s the same Rockville, at least according to wikipedia, as in that R.E.M. song (Don’t Go Back to) Rockville. And, now try getting that out of your head. I was a vendor in the little, new Green Expo section of the city’s Hometown Holidays, which marked its 20th year this weekend. Loads of people, loads of dogs, loads of food and music. As usual, I had fantastic neighbors, including Community Forklift, best described as a cross between Home Depot and Goodwill. Ah, the apostrophe! Where would we be without it?
In my never ending quest to blog about holidays, I found Mothers’ Day (with the apostrophe after the “s” ) to be much more to my liking. It’s a communal thing: you know, collective action versus taking your mother out to brunch with free flowing mimosas and signing your name to a Hallmark card. As with most things, there’s some great background here, background that those marking Mother’s Day eating out and shopping tend to forget. This first little bit is minimally edited from a website on West Virginia culture: It started with Ann Marie Jarvis who organized a series of Mothers’ Day Work Clubs in West Virginia to improve health and sanitary conditions. Among other services, the clubs raised money for medicine, hired women to work for families in which the mothers suffered from tuberculosis, and inspected bottled milk and food. In 1860, local doctors supported the formation of clubs in other towns. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
November 2018
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