Mother’s Day

Being greeted by a troop of present-wielding lovelies is just glorious on all levels. Their Dad took control of breakfast so I was spared any cold, burnt toast with slices of butter hacked into it and got a delicious pain aux raisins instead.

An absolute treat of a day filled with some of the people I love most.

Gratefuls:

1. The kindness of Zeke who, having been something of a ratbag during the day, thought to enquire about my Mum. We talked and when I had a little cry he gave me the loveliest hug and said “you miss her, but I can’t miss her, I’m just really sad I missed her”;
2. My lovely dear Mum and memories of Mother’s Day in childhood. The year, aged about 6, I opted not to see Dad (who we saw each Sunday) and made my beloved Mum a lunch of tinned soup came to mind. I’m sure I did very little to assist in truth but it kicked off a tradition of cooking her a lunch - often burnt/raw/bizarre. Our first year in this house I tried to make her a lamb roast and pear frangipane but had got the oven settings wrong and GRILLED the lot;
3. Linda (my MIL) who, incidentally, would probably be genuinely delighted with lunches of tinned soup/grilled roast as she just enjoys being cooked for!;
4. An extra grateful for Ant saving me from cold burnt toast.