Have a Restful Weekend. | Cup of Jo

What are you doing this weekend? We had an intense week for some reasons, but this weekend Toby is having its 15th birthday party! (It feels like yesterday, etc.) I am legitimately excited to organize a lot of sweaty children, play basketball and eat caramel cake. I hope you have a good one, and here are some links from the entire website …

Easy strawberry lemonade.

How to sneeze silently. (I immediately sent a text message to my dad).

Brooklinen, our favorite home and bedding company, has a 25% discount throughout the site. We have its beautiful packages in the beds of our house, and I sleep very well in their pillows.

How great is this German 400 square feet house next to the lake?

Electronic emails with my son on the nap on weekends.

7 things I saw the people who used in Paris, including a very great haircut. (Large salad)

I can’t wait for the tomato season. (Nytime gift link)

An instant cure for restless legs. (Via Haley)

10 things I would say to my 16 -year -old self. “There will come a time when his sister’s presence” and “just because someone is an adult does not mean he is right.”

How incredible are the photos of astronaut Don Pettit of outer space? (Nytime gift link)

Unrecognized heroes of motherhood. “Julie Owens, who bravely pulled a Tankini in mid -January to accompany her twins to a covered aquatic park. After swallowing a wet assistant in the wave pool, Owens, in a sample of a tremendous value, simply harden in dry.”

Oh Crikey.

Hahaha.

Next Tuesday in Brooklyn, I will be in a conversation on stage with my friend Adam Roberts, about his fun first novel, Food Person, about a ghost of kitchen books. Please join us, if you wish!

In addition, two comments from readers:

Jess says about what the glymmers you have seen lately: “Oh man, jo, he would like to send you a photo: today’s glymmer was passing a random store here in Oxford, England, and watching a charming picnic configuration in the window (Red-White Blanket, Wicker Hamper, Fake Grass, etc) with a bulldog French lunging in Starting at Alefulgy.

Kate says Kate about four beautiful poems of motherhood: “It is not a poem, but this passage of small fires everywhere by Celeste ng kills me again and again:

‘He thought parents learned to survive touching their children less and less. Like a baby, Pearl had hold on to her; He had used Pearl in a sling because every time he had left her, Pearl cried. There would hardly be a moment on the day they had not been pressed together. As he grew up, Pearl still clung to his mother’s leg, then his waist, then his hand, as if there was something in his mother who needed to absorb through the skin. Even when he had his own bed, he often crawled in mine in the middle of the night and excavated under the old mosaic quantcha, and in the morning they woke up tangled, Mia’s assembly set under Pearl’s head, or Pearl’s legs thrown by Miia’s belly. Now, when I was a teenager, Pearl’s caresses had become rare: a kiss on the cheek, a half hug and a single arm, and even more beautiful for that. It was the path of things, he thought of mine for herself, but how difficult it was. The occasional hug, an head leaned for a moment on the shoulder, when what you really wanted more than anything was to press them and hold them so tight that you fused and you could never be disarmed. It was like training yourself to live alone with the smell of an apple, when what you really wanted was to devour it, sink your teeth and consume it, seeds, nucleus and everything. “

(Photo by Jacqui Miller/Stocksy).

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