Undaunted by the silent screams of live lobsters being dropped without ceremony into a steaming pot

Tiny pauses to reflect during "Pure Catnip" kitty toy play on the kitchen counter this morning.

Mother's Day tomorrow. After Tuck beds out the new magenta, purple and lavender petunias in the refurbished circular parterre, we'll be heading Down East for a Sunday Lobster Bake at Goomp's in our dear departed mother's honor. Mummy was a fearless preparer of of all things delicious from the sea, undaunted by the silent screams of live lobsters being dropped without ceremony into a steaming pot.

Tiny as Big Foot. The camera's angle plays tricks with scale.

She loved to go fishing for perch and pollock and trolling for mackerel off Lobster Cove on Cape Ann in the family's little cabin cruiser "Lazy Mary," cleaning her catch right there on the dock once we got back to our Mill River berth. In those days we shopped for seafood by boat, pulling up to the dock of the Annisquam Fish Market, where they kept the lobsters in underwater cages built into the floats. You could lift the trap door and watch 'em swim.

How Tiny would look as a kangaroo.

Nowadays we call and let the good folks at York Beach Fish Market steam them up ahead of time. Lobster was one of Mummy's all-time favorites. While others would take the easy route, gobbling up the tail and large claws and perhaps sucking on a few of the small claws, she loved to pick out every last bit of meat from the bodies. As for Goomp, he's a lobster-roll man, and it is our pleasure -- in the spirit of Mummy's total indulgence of each and every one of us with that extra bit of TLC -- to shell his lobster, break it up into bite-sized chunks, mix it up with mayo and then stuff the mixture into a sautéed hotdog roll. Mmmmm. We do enjoy lobsters in the ruff with drawn butter, of course, but that lobster roll sounds wicked good. Maybe we'll do one of those for ourselves this time.

This just in. Live newsfeed of Tuck's floricultural progress early afternoon. Now to see if the cats still consider the freshly planted parterre as a litter box en plein air.

Update: Goomp notes in the comments that "Mummie was a fearless worker in the soil of the garden as well as a super chef in the kitchen."

Comments

[Teresa]

Okay, now I'm hungry... *grin* and Tuck is da man! Good work on the yard. I wish I was more into gardening. Sadly, although I love the results - I don't like the actual process. Therefore I truly admire those who love to go out and muck about in the dirt to bring lovely flowers.

[goomp]

Mummie was a fearless worker in the soil of the garden as well as a super chef in the kitchen.

[Laura Lee Donoho]

One summer when our son was nine years old I took him up to Maine to visit my sister and brother-in-law and their first born child, a little girl.

We were PCSing that summer so my husband took our little girls and drove to Arkansas while Drew and I headed up to Maine.

My sister and brother-in-law took us into Portland to a great restaurant where Drew had his first lobster.

I will never forget how excited he was and how much he loved lobster. He still does to this day.

[pb]

My Dad used to tell of his aunts, who would set the lobster in fresh warm water, "So it would go to sleep" before they boiled it.

Later, they learned to drop the lobster in headfirst, so it would be instantly killed.

Living out in Western New York has pretty much staunched my worries in that regard. Buying a lobster around here would not likely yield the freshness I remember from Massachusetts and Maine.

[Gayle Miller]

My father kept a mean yard - nothing was permitted in the yard that didn't "pay for itself" as he used to say. Hence, instead of a hedge, we had blueberry bushes (which I might add I absolutely DETESTED - I'm way too tall to pick blueberries and have been since age 12) and instead of normal trees, we had fruit trees (male and female of course). Then I started imposing my will on the yard by stealth and suddenly there were rose bushes all around - of every color. To which I am allergic. And about which allergies I do not CARE because I LOVE roses. He just looked at me and remarked that I'd always been a SENSIBLE girl before and what had happened. Before I could answer, my mother opined "puberty" and that was the end of the discussion.

I miss my parents so much. They were the funniest two people I've ever known.

And isn't Tiny as enchanting as ever? So lovely. So utterly gorgeous in her feline majesty!

[Tara]

My Mother used to " trim " the edges of her yard and garden with a cane knife.

That's what most people used in Louisiana.

You never wanted to get her mad at you when she was working in the yard ...