My friend Carol invited me to join her at the Belfast Ice Festival. It sounded jolly, and we made plans. The whole town was hopping. Parking was tricky; restaurants were full, but we both eventually managed to find places to land our vehicles, and a restaurant with a table for two and no waiting was a terrific surprise. Though we don't live far apart, we don't actually see each other that often, but speaking for myself, it's always a great time when we do.
There were some impressive ice sculptures. My favorite was a big, googly-eyed goldfish that reflected the color of people's clothes as they passed, flashes of pink, blue, and green, making it look as if it were illuminated from within. Oh, and this one was the most creative...
When I got home, my sweet niece Aimee was here for a visit. We are always excited to see her, and Chris and Rachel whipped up one of her favorite meals in celebration: double-breaded pork cutlets with lemon dill sauce. Chris got a kick out of having Rachel assist him in the kitchen; it reminded him of her teen years when she'd often accompany him as she practiced her way around the spice rack. She learned well and is a wonderful, competent cook now. Our meal was delicious.
I caught this picture of the Owlet sitting in a little youth chair at suppertime.
My paternal grandmother gave me this chair when I was five or six. It used to sit beside her brick hearth, and I often perched on it when I visited. One day, she said, "Take that home with you." She died suddenly not long after. My daughter used it when she was wee, and now her girls do. It's a treasure.
On Saturday nights, the Owlet often has a spend-the-night with us. When it was time for bed, she boldly announced, "I have a slumber party with Auntie Cakes!" Aimee looked dubious, but the wee one fell asleep quickly and had a lovely time snuggling with her godmother until I whisked her away when she woke at dawn so Aimee could sleep a bit more. The last time the two spent a night together was when the Owlet was born. Aimee was the birth doula and pulled a rocking chair up to the window, rocked the newborn baby, and sang to her under the big sky outside while the exhausted parents caught a few winks. Their bond is long and strong.
This morning, sausages and pancakes were served for breakfast, and the table was full again. Family chatter, dogs underfoot, kids giggling—it was all so very good.
We groomed Aimee's little dog and then hit a favorite antique store for some treasure hunting. We all found a few little things to bring home and had a great time poking around.
It was such a happy weekend.
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