63- Raeanne

Sunday morning I was back at The Cunning Ham winery, sitting at a big round table with a glass of sparkling wine and orange juice in front of me, listening to Hannah explain how we were going to make the fancy centerpieces she’d designed for El.

“The roses go like this,” she was saying, holding up the little bouquet of pink and white roses, “and then the ribbon knot is super easy. Just in, under, around and….voila!” Somehow the flowers and ribbon in Hannah’s hands had miraculously turned into the most impressive tiny bouquet I’d ever seen. “And then just drop it into the little vase and tuck the greens around it, pulling the ribbon through.”

“This reeks of a craft,” Robin said. “I’m no good at crafts. What if I just focus on keeping all the glasses full?”

“Mom,” El moaned. “Just do your best.”

“You know I’m no good with crafts,” she said, lifting a few roses and somehow mangling them with the ribbon until each one had only a few petals left. “Remember the crochet incident of 2006? Or