Even when our moms are far away, they are still in the house. Mom is the reason we cut onions a certain way, the voice in our heads telling us to put on those safety glasses, and the one who makes sure we bring home fresh flowers at least once a week.
This week, we honor the moms, Angle 33 style.
My mom has been in the same book club for 16 years. When these ladies get together, the wine (preferably red) is as important as the book. During the summer months, book club is hosted outdoors, so naturally, my mom brings along her thermal. Of course, her thermal is one of the original thermals we made, and it isn't nearly as sleek as the later, more refined versions we've come up with--but the ladies are concerned with function. After all, books, wine and good friends make for good form. Thanks for believing in us, Mom!
My dad drinks Maker's Mark on ice. For as long as I can remember, there were coasters all over my parents house, so my dad could set his cocktail down wherever he might be. Inevitably, Dad's glass would sweat and when he picked up his drink, the coaster would come with it. So, my mom sewed cloth coasters to soak up the water. Everywhere you looked, there were coasters wearing little blankets. Needless to say, my mom was really glad when Angle 33 coasters came along to soak up the water and stay where they belong. These coasters are for you, Mom!
When we first started making champagne thermals, I brought one to my mother. I thought she'd like to have it for special occasions. She doesn't drink champagne much, and maybe I hoped she'd drink it a little more, or find more occasions to celebrate, with a nice thermal to put on the table. Sure enough, the next time we got together at her house, the champagne thermal was proudly displayed on the table--with a bottle of Dr. Pepper in it. It was nice and cold and we had a festive time. Mom, you really know how to dress up the Dr. Pepper. Thanks for all the good times.
My mother is a gifted gardener. Even though we lived in Alaska for only a short time when I was young, I still remember how beautiful her garden was there. I also remember that she would contain my childhood mischief by plopping me in a garden tote and slinging me over her shoulder. I am too grown to be contained anymore, Mom, but you can still contain your flowers in these planters! May your garden always bring you joy.
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