Mother's Day

I'm not too good about Mother's Day. Sure, when I could still get away with cards and noodle necklaces, it was easy and even fun. But the past few years have been neither. Either I can't think of something to do and end up buying something I can't really afford, which turns into clutter, or I slap something (clay statue, for instance) together a few days ahead of time and feel cheesy. Either way I get burned.
This year I did something different.
The Teacher has a garden. Since we're in the hill country (first joke I heard when I came here: our biggest import is tourists and our biggest export is rocks) dirt is literally at a premium. We buy it by the truckload and keep it in raised beds so it won't run away. The Teacher loves her garden. Not sure why, but she does. (Plants don't do much for me. Well, except for roses and peach trees. I'm sure the blackberry bush will do something for me once it starts producing.)
So for Mother's Day I kicked her out of the house to go run errands/have fun with the Principal for a few hours. And I mulched her garden path.
This sounds lame, and I guess it is, but! It didn't cost me anything. It's not clutter. It only took two hours (I was working with a shovel and two five-gallon buckets and a recalcitrant roll of weed barrier. I'm lucky it didn't take longer.) I got to watch the sunset while I worked. It won't deteriorate/disappear/get lost/get worn out.
And every time she waters her garden and doesn't have weeds up to her knees, she'll think of me.
Yeah, right. More likely she'll think how nice it would be if the rest of the garden was mulched, or if she planted too many tomato plants. (She totally did, but don't say anything.)
Happy Mother's Day.