Why I don't write poetry

By wintertale

Chillin' out with Lois

A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world.
It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.
Agatha Christie


Lois and I treated ourself to a long lie this morning before posing for this snap in the garden.

The ring in the picture belonged to my great Aunt Janey, who sadly has been dead for 20 years. She was a spinster, a character and a huge part of my life growing up; looking after me by allowing my own mum to return to work. My fondest memory was making steamed puddings (with raspberry jam in the bottom) with her for lunch - they were the very very best :-)

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