Mothering Sunday

A beautiful day. Lots of fragrant flowers, Roger, granddaughters, daughter and son-in-law. Son Colin, in faraway New York, sent flowers which apparently arrived Friday but the $%^&* FedEx delivery guy left them sitting in a box on our stone wall at the bottom of the drive and who knew until as the kids were heading down the drive this evening, Jane spotted them. Fortunately, the chocolates were in a chill pack and hadn't melted. The flowers, while beautiful, hadn't fared so well.

The day started with breakfast in bed. Sophie beside me munching on dry French bread. Offered butter and jam she said, 'No sanks, Nana.' She prefers her bread neat. Note to self: vacuum bed before thinking about sleep.

Big Sunday lunch...organic roast chicken, fresh herbs and lemons shoved unceremoniously inside, minted tatties, carrots not long pulled out of the earth and a huge salad, followed by brownies and fresh berries.

And lots of pool time. A good day.