My mother-in-law, God rest her soul, had little "isms" that seemed to define her joie de vivre. One I remember well was her describing the perfect summertime day as "like a rare day in June." We all knew exactly what she meant: around 80, little humidity, birds singing, flowers blooming, grass greening, kids happy -- just one of those "ahhhhh" days. We had one of those at the lake on Saturday, except for the humidity part. Seems we always have that in Minnesota these days. Daughter No. 1 and the boys were with us, so that was a pleasure, as usual.
We had blueberry pancakes for breakfast, and in my grandsons I have found two young men who truly appreciate my cooking. "Omigosh, cake-cakes!" Owen cries, eyes level with the griddle. This is followed by a half-hour of stickiness and blue faces, hands and tablecloth. (Geez, I had forgotten that the Indians used blueberries as a kind of permanent dye.) This culinary excitement is diminished only by a second favorite -- hotdogs for lunch -- and a third, being allowed to eat dinner at the coffee table on one's knees, watching "The Lion King." (I know, I know, the TV dinner is a bad habit for which I will not apologize. I'm just trying to compete properly for the Cool Nonna title.) Alert parents, please note: I pledge not to introduce them to soda. The Mr. Freeze pops were Bumpa's idea. I'm just sayin'.