Monday was my mother's birthday. YAY CELEBRATION.

I was up super early to make her breakfast (cinnamon pancakes), but she didn't realise and thought there was a burglar downstairs. Oops.

I made her cake during the day - a lemon and raspberry Victoria Sponge, with tiny handmade bunting. My mum's comment: "I knew I sent you to art school for a reason!"
I also cooked dinner (mushroom risotto, Pose's recipe, thanks Pose!) with her fave pear cider and all sorts of goodies. I didn't realise, however, that her friends at work had spent an hour in the afternoon stuffing her with multiple birthday cakes, so she couldn't manage much food. I tried to compensate, and ended up feeling ridiculously full for about 5 hours.

We walked rolled to Jeanie & Grandad's for a slice of cake in the evening (for them, we were both still too full), and discussed how old the children in my mum's class thought she was. The general consensus was that she was 5 (but a couple thought she was 100).

When we got home we had a good long Skype sesh with The Cornish One. Our present for Mother Hen was train tickets to go and visit him for the weekend in a few weeks. She cried (but apparently it was "just the onions").