Mothers

Happy Mothers Day to my Mum.
And to Bev's memory too. My Granma and Nanny.

I wish I could say it all to Tarn. All eighteen times. Those missing ten times...



The girls asked me what are we doing, going away to see Nanny Kay?

Not this time Em.

I forget to call Mum's local flower shop yesterday, and again today. Will call my sister first thing.

Wrapped up in my own little world. Sad. Sorry Mum.

A couple of flowers left.

Today, I told Chazza, we will drop by Tarn's resting place to leave some flowers again. Twice in a week.

Coffee or Earl Grey with your croissontes Madame?

This time, her roses.
And some Hydrangeas and Camellias too.

Dancing in the ... on the sand!

I was only thinking the other day that she would have been fussed over by our four little urchins so so much.

Getting her breakfast in bed,  jumping in with her like she used to with Bev.

Most probably tea and croissants, or freshly ground and brewed coffee in her Parisian breakfast cups on the breakfast tray. With a flower. And small gifts from the school's Mother's Day Gift Shoppê, usually trashy, but!

And also it occurred to me that my Mum has to be congratulated.
Fifty years of kids pressies!