The Ring

My mom arrived from Alaska today!  The girls and I picked her up at Seatac and swooped her up the I-5 corridor - serenaded by Marguerite's screams for at least half of the drive.  She was channeling her side better defined by this photo:

(side note: WTF is her big sister doing on the counter in the background of this picture you ask?  She's pouring dish soap into the flower vase.  And why are both girls wearing only swimsuits in October?  I don't have an answer to this question.).

My mom's suitcase came stocked with gifts.  Bath toys, books, violets from her garden to hopefully survive in mine, and the ring I gave her as a teenager that she's worn for almost 20 years.  It's my favorite ring for many reasons.  It was made by a Homer artisan, it's a garnet, and it reminds me of my mom when I see it on my hand.  That's enough symbolism and beauty to keep my right hand happy for many years:

 Thanks Mama.