This is me, knackered, in a corner of my sister's kitchen, after a great day out on the Isle of Wight, talking, walking, eating and talking. Oh, did I say talking?
Now I am sitting at my sister's desk, looking through her back window over a leafy garden and then to fields. The coaster under my mug of tea is a photo (stuck on cork) of my mother's pretty cottage garden. The wooden owl on the windowsill was my mother's, and there is a picture of her on the dresser at my side. She is in all of our hearts and in all of our houses. If she were still alive, Jen and I would be ringing her up and telling her what fun we're having, and she'd be so pleased.
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