Last Day of the Mother Visit

My mother will leave for her home in Georgia this morning, so yesterday to honor the last day of her visit with us, we hosted a lunch with two of my friends, Joan and Jane—you know, a women's sort of lunch by the pool. My mother and I started early in the morning to make the peach trifle with lemon mousse; we had to make the lemon curd and let it chill for an hour, and then we had to roast the peaches and whip the cream and assemble the whole thing so it could chill for two hours at least.

We also made chilled cucumber-honeydew-mint soup:

flatbreads with sea salt and thyme:

and a chickpea salad with balsamic and honey vinaigrette:

It was all served with large gulf shrimp (pre-BP) drizzled with olive oil. We made a pitcher of peach iced tea and a pitcher of white sangria, and we carried the whole feast outside to the patio. We sat under the big umbrella and ate and talked and talked and ate, and it was all lovely.

We aren't the delicate type—no doilies, dainty dresses or strings of pearls. Well, to be honest, my mother can pull off that look, but the rest of us prefer our flat shoes and pragmatic clothes. We put our feet on the furniture, laugh really loud and drink a little too much. We are who we are, my friends and I have decided, and I think we're each comfortable in our own skin. Still, lunch on the patio with the women was just lovely, and the afternoon was a nice way to end a nice mother visit.