It is Mother’s Day in Britain this Sunday. And, since I am a mother and live in London, this affects me. It is also going to affect my blog.
I managed to post something on both Christmas Day and New Year’s Day but this one is going to defeat me.
For all the right reasons.
Because, yesterday, my beloved daughter Kimberly announced that she had organised my Mother’s Day present. We are going skiing. Just the two of us. And she’s paying.
Now, we aren’t very good at spontaneity in my family. That would require being a bit more organised than we seem capable of being. And so, after a bit of:
“What?” “Really??” “When?!”
…we both started running around, trying to assemble the ski things that we thought we weren’t going to be needing again this year, if ever (Whose Idea Was This, Anyway). I knew where absolutely everything was supposed to be, and discovered that some of it was actually there. Which came as a nice surprise.
And so we are off, in three hours.
She is mad to have done it, of course. Her entire office was apparently shouting at her to not push the “Yes” button when she booked it yesterday. I can see their point. It does, after all, wipe out her savings account.
And I do feel badly about how much money she is spending on this. But, I am thrilled.
Not only by going skiing. Not even mostly by going skiing. I’m thrilled that she wants us to have an adventure together. Just the two of us.
Click on the webcam to see us. We will be the ones waving, and falling down.
Until next week.
Not Leo Tolstoy (aka Eileen Riley)