I’ve had a wonderful Mothers Day today.
The most precious thing, although gratefully received was not the cup of tea brought to me in bed.
It was not the selection of home made gifts including a candle and a puzzle.
It was not the vase of daffodils picked for me.
Neither was it the awesome cards I was presented with, although they both made me all teary at the gorgeous words inside them.
It was not Davies’ fab poem, I particularly liked the disclaimed about it not being Pam Ayres.
It was not the delicious food we ate – from duck egg pancakes to roast pork all from our own croft, or the spectacular views from the windows or the extra hour of daylight which meant we all went out for a walk after dinner and wandered around the perimeter of our croft.
Nope. It was the simple fact that celebrating Mothers Day at all is only happening because I am a mother to these two fantastic, amazing, inspiring, creative, funny, adventurous, caring, loving, happy individuals.