Mother’s day morning was sweet. F said ‘Don’t look Mum’, so I stayed in the office reading in my pyjamas until summoned. He and D had set out breakfast on the verandah - buckwheat pancakes, stewed apples, maple syrup, cream etc. A special drawing from F. and a little gift of handmade soap from D.
When I was a kid we never celebrated Mothers Day. My father decreed that it was all a meaningless commercial beat-up, to be ignored by intelligent people like us.
When actually, it is nice to be honoured as a mother, and to honour our own mothers. I feel sad that we didn’t do anything for my mum back then. Was there breakfast in bed? I don’t think so. But memory is an unreliable thing.
Yesterday was an almost computer-free day. A few pleasantly mindless chores - weed vegie garden etc. I even enjoyed scrubbing the bird pooh off the verandah. It smelt of camphor from the seeds they eat ( and spread around the countryside) Plenty of lazy time flicking through the Weekend Magazine while sipping green tea. Plunking on the ukulele. I’ve almost mastered going from B flat to F 7.
Late arvo, D said Lets watch sunset at the beach, so we dashed down to Brunswick and walked along the breakwater and took photos of eachother in the luminous autumn light as the sun set. There were quite a few other families there, also taking photos of eachother.
(posted on tuesday on account of above mentioned technical prob)
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