Mother's Day

It was fine, weather–wise, so I thought I’d best take advantage of it by clearing and turning the bed where I want to put the peas. If there’s one vegetable I love growing, it’s peas, I grow mange tout  and sugar snap. They’re so sweet and tender, I can eat them raw.

I wanted to avoid actual writing today and try and catch up with some of the sorting out. I’ve made progress but there’s still an awful lot to do.

Sally and Humber are coming to stay tomorrow through to late on Tuesday as their owner has to go to a funeral (Birmingham I think).  They come back again on Saturday for a longer stay. I just pray both stays pass without incident – Sally is on so much medication. I don’t think I’ll say yes next time.

I think I’m getting more used to life alone. It’s taken me a while to figure out that the house is actually mine to use as I want, that I have room to put things, and that I can, finally, have a go at keeping the place clean. What I really need is friends I can call up, and people who live close enough so that I can invite them round.

Of course, it’s Mother’s Day today, and as on her birthday, a tiny part of me wanted to hear from my mother as I sent a card, but nothing happened. A slightly bigger part of me wants to call the home and make sure she’s still there and OK, but an even bigger part of me can’t do that. I’m only just hanging on right now so until I’m stronger, the only person I can take into consideration has to be me. I can’t tell you how bad/odd/strange that feels.