Today, this Tuesday after Memorial Day Weekend, is a sunny, busy day with lots of outdoor chores as well as a bike trip to the library to do some volunteer work. Over the weekend, we had an indoor picnic, which I’ll write more about tomorrow, when the weather is supposed to be rainy again.

For today, I’ll keep the post short, with some pictures of the yard in May. Oh, spring is galloping right along. As I wrote on my friend Claire’s Facebook page: “I love spring, too, but I always want to say, ‘Wait, wait! Don’t go by so fast. Take your time turning to summer.’ But, of course, spring doesn’t wait. She rushes headlong into summer.”

For the past week, it has pretty much been nothing but rain in central Maine. While everything is as lush and as green as a rainforest, all this wet weather makes it hard to do any amount of gardening. I have managed to plant some annuals in pots, and I am keeping my fingers crossed that the rain doesn’t go on long enough to rot my little beauties.

My husband, Clif, and I had hoped to host a barbecue on Sunday, but now it looks as though our friends will be coming to an indoor event. We had planned to serve Clif’s renowned grilled bread, but if the rain continues as forecasted, then we will offer my legendary homemade crackers. (“Legendary” was coined by Kathy Gillis-Soltan, who works on the library expansion committee with me. I brought the crackers to one of our events.) Good though the crackers are, they really can’t compete with grilled bread, and I expect there will be some minor disappointment on Sunday. We were also going to have hamburgers, hot dogs, and black bean burgers, but that, too, has been changed. I’m sticking with the black bean burgers, which are best panfried, but instead of hot dogs and hamburgers, I’ve come up with a Mexican dish that can be baked. The Mexican dish has hamburg, refried beans, cheese, and spices. Naturally, there are tortilla chips to go along with it.

So, a changed menu unless Sunday is sunny and warm, and indoors rather than outdoors. No matter. Mike, Shannon, Sybil, Diane, Joel, Alice, Clif, and I will still have a great time eating and chatting.

And despite the festive nature of this weekend, I will remember the dead—family and friends who are no longer with us: Mom, Dad, Barbara, my grandmother, Ethel, Garry, Aunt Barney, and Uncle Leo. I’ll be making my mother’s gingersnaps to go along with the delectable flan that Sybil has offered to bring. As I’ve noted before, in our family, Mom’s gingersnaps were as legendary as my crackers, and they are a way to honor all those who have passed and who are very much missed.

To end on an upbeat note: If the Mexican casserole turns out as well as I hope it does, then I will share the recipe next week.

Tomorrow, I’ll be going to Damariscotta to a gathering of Franco-American artists. There will be at least 40 of us, a reflection of the large population of Franco-Americans that came from Canada to settle in New England and beyond.

I will be reading several posts from A Good Eater, two that touch on some aspect of being Franco-American and one that is a tribute to my mother, who didn’t speak English until she was 5. I’ll be making a double batch of my mother’s legendary ginger snaps to share, and I will also be bringing copies of her recipe.

The title of this blog comes from my mother and her appreciation of someone who was “a good eater.” My mother loved to feed people, and one of the most insulting things you could do was not be a good eater at her table. To her, it felt like a slap in the face if you halfheartedly picked at the food she cooked. Conversely, nothing made her happier than to cook for someone who ate with gusto.  If you asked for seconds, well, then you had won her heart. We associate this obsession with feeding people to certain ethnic groups, and Franco-Americans mothers can take their place beside Jewish, Italian, and Chinese mothers who like nothing better than having good eaters at their tables.

I would not call A Good Eater a Franco-American blog. Instead, it is a blog written by a Franco-American. In other words, being Franco-American is the place where I start rather than my destination. Yet, part of what I want to do with this blog is to show how a life lived close to home, a life that revolves around food, family, and friends, is a rich and rewarding life. “Livin’ the good life,” as Ida LeClair (aka Susan Poulin) might say. And if that isn’t Franco-American, then I don’t know what is.

Blue is my favorite color, and I like every shade, from pale to dark blue. Today, the sky is a deep blue, a great day to hang my blue sheets and to go for a bike ride on Blue Beauty. But best of all, a couple of days ago, my cousin Linda brought me some eggs, some of which are—you guessed it—blue. I will save those eggs for last and use the brown ones first. I know. Eggs are eggs, regardless of the color of their shells, but those blue eggs, laid by Americana hens, are very special to me.

All in all, it’s shaping up to be a beautiful blue day.