My mother is one of those Depression-era women dedicated to living a no-frills life. Her motto is, “It’s good enough for us.”

If our house wasn’t as fancy as some other people’s, well, “It’s good enough for us.”

Or if our car wasn’t as expensive, or our clothes as nice, or our furniture as new, or our food as fancy, whatever it was, it was good enough for us.

Which brings me to the lunch I fixed for my mother on Saturday.

You see, my brother is a farmer with a day job. He has very little time to get away. This past week he told me he was thinking of going up to Kelley’s Island for the day on Saturday. Take his grandsons. Leave early and get home late. Which meant that my mother, who lives with him at the farm, would be home alone all day long.

Now you ask, why didn’t he just take my mother to Kelley’s Island with him?

There’s is no way in hell she’s going to Kelley’s Island, or anywhere else fancy folks go. The long ride, the ferry, all the hoo-hah and folderol. “I’ll stay right here in my chair,” she says when you try to get her to venture out of the house these days.

So my brother wanted me to go to the farm and keep an eye on her. Instead I decided to bring her to my house. Feed her lunch, let her nap. She didn‘t want to come, of course, but after three days of pleading I somehow persuaded her.

It had rained all week and the lawn needed moving and the patio was a mess and the flower beds a disaster. So even though it was the July 4th weekend, lunch would be inside. But then the forecast improved and I figured, what the heck, a little picnic on the patio for mumsy.

And I might as well invite some other people.

My oldest daughter, Jen, is in South Carolina on vacation with her fiancé and their assorted children (there’s a rumor they’re going to get married while they’re down there) so I couldn’t invite her. But my other daughter, Kary, was available. So I invited her, and asked her to bring along her husband and a bag of charcoal.

Friday morning Carol and I went out early and bagged all the branches I had piled up in the backyard from a recent tree-trimming fit I’d had. Then I went inside and painted the French doors and molding in the sunroom while Carol went to the Humane Society to help out. Then I went grocery shopping and did some house cleaning. A dirty house would have been good enough for my mother and me, but not for Carol.

The lawn had dried out, so I went out and mowed. Then I washed the mold off the lawn chairs and picnic table with hot water and Clorox and cleaned off the back of the house with a hose. Then I got down on my hands and knees and pulled out all the weeds that had grown up between the stone slabs on the patio. Then I swept and hosed. Because we’d had such a rainy June, we hadn’t cleaned out the flower beds yet. So racing against the setting sun, I cleaned out the beds and put down fresh mulch. Oh, yeah. I also put out the flag.

When Carol got home, she went to work cleaning the house better than I had. We talked about me picking up some Chinese for a late supper, but we were both pooped and settled for peanut butter and jelly.

Saturday morning we got up early and took the dogs out for their walk. I’d gotten up with a horrible back ache from all that crawling and mulch-lugging the day before. Halfway into the walk I got horrible back spasms and had to lay down in the street and scream until they went away. I hobbled home with Dudley while Carol went on with Nellie. Right in front of our house I had another bout of spasms. Laid in the driveway and screamed some more.

Now I had to make macaroni salad and deviled eggs and bake a shortcake. And I had to get out the charcoal grill and clean it. And get out all the picnic ware. All while bent over like Groucho Marks.

Carol picked up my mother. Kary arrived with Brian and the charcoal. And we had a grand 4th of July feast: hamburgers and veggie burgers and Hungarian sausages, macaroni salad, deviled eggs, iced tea and root beer and lemonade, shortcake and watermelon. And the yard looked great and it was sunny but not too hot.

And then two hours after it started it was over. Carol had to work an evening editing shift at the paper and Kary and Brian had somewhere to go. So I took my mother back to the farm and spend the evening with her. We both had a nice nap and then she offered me dinner. We had cinnamon toast and milk.

Which was good enough for me.