I Can't Kill Him, CAN I?

I just yelled at one of my children. And then I walked into the kitchen and hit the woodwork (which is REALLY hard old wood) with the palm of  my hand----like that would make me feel better.  It didn't.  It hurts.  Stupid mother (I mean me).  That little blonde will be the death of me.  Other than that I'm having a nice morning.  Ernie's off working the WILL Vintage Vinyl sale.  He's had fun volunteering and it means our living room floor looks like this:

 

The Ventures, a baby faced Kieran Kane, a cool hand numbered edition of an early Sun Ra, Jonathan Winters and that's JUST the tip of the 'berg.  That's my boy.

I just got back from the farmers' market and it was COLD and LONELY.  The poor vendors are going to be like little ice cubes by the times it's over and it was only lonely because Ernie wasn't with me.  I think I bought my mother's day dinner however:  Triple S smoked pork chops, fat purple asparagus, red kale and fresh strawberries.  I also got some ramps (my baby is going to be SO happy when he gets home and sees those) and some napa cabbage.  Oh, and a hosta at the sale inside Lincoln Square.  I only had enough money left for one and I was torn between the little miniature blue one and the huge one called Winter Snow.  I went with Winter Snow because I'm a sucker for big piles of hostas.