Even Better - Sad Mothers Day

Here's me in my new Gok Wan 'evils': I am hoping they make me look rather vile and cross. Good fun.

Last night Julian appeared with two willow trees with tiny catkins on. She swept through the garden defeating all but my tragic Christmas tree which is still there, and replanted the willows in large pots. They are very pretty weeping willows, and Nibby has warned me never to plant them in the garden or they will bring up the building foundations. I should imagine my opposite neighbour's bamboo will be the first plant to do that. Julian also came bearing gifts from Chicago, including a very pretty painted small nesting box, made from a large pod from Peru. I have hung this in the garden. Unfortunately we found another dead bird in the garden. It was large and grey, the same as the other bird, and I suspect may have been another young blackbird. Vile though he is, it is hard to imagine that Kook is capable of catching anything - he can hardly walk along the fence he is so fat. We shall see.

Every time Mothers Day is near I really miss mine. On the last time I saw her on Mothers Day we were due to go out to a local restaurant, but she felt unwell, insisting that I went along with her husband while she lay down and had a rest. I really did not want to go, but frankly felt she wanted him out of the way in any event, so I had a miserable lunch, and couldn't wait to get back to the house to ensure she was feeling better.

Her last husband was an awful man who liked everything to be terribly organised, was obsessive about money and many other things. I remember many years before when we visited them in Oxfordshire, he would not only send a map but would spend a long time on the telephone explaining the entire car journey, mile by mile to my husband, who was an experienced driver.

My mother was very quick and intelligent, and though they had the common interests of bridge and golf for many years, she progressively found it very frustrating to be married to this country bumpkin, who became more irritating and obsessive as he aged.

When she eventually became very ill with a heart condition, he had started 'dating' another woman, which unbelievably galling though it must have been, when she could not retaliate, did give her some relief from his company as he spent most of his time with the 'other woman'. Still, (not that as a divorcee, I have much idea about relationships,) if I had been married to someone for thirty years, and we were both over 80, I might expect my husband to look after me in my final illness and await my demise before setting out on affairs with other women.