Each year I become Mumzilla and insist on a Mother's day outing featuring at least two of my three children. (Use this link for outing ten years ago)
Last year we visited Sissinghurst and this year we planned to build on the Vita Sackville-West theme. Carenza and I had watched Orlando - both the
current West End play and the Tilda Swinton film adapted from the Virginia Woolf novella in which she made clear her adoration of Vita. Our Mother’s Day outing would be to Knole,
the great Tudor pile which inspired Orlando.
Perran had a plausible alibi for Mother’s Day itself, so we
went a week early. Allowable slippage I thought.
However, it turned out to be just the beginning of the rot
setting in.
One of the purposes of having a Mother’s Day outing is to
avoid the church service where all women are given a brightly coloured polyanthus. (Something really annoys me about it, but I
can’t put my finger on what.) This year
I had to contract an actual cold to get out of it. Made me miserable for a few days, but worth
it.
Then Pascoe’s Mother’s Day card arrived, adding a new layer
of weirdness. He had given a photo of me
to an AI program and asked it to make me into a Roman lady (as I am a Classics teacher). Unfortunately, he had selected a picture
where I was holding a hedgehog (why?), which then rather dominated – see pic.
Maybe I should give Mother’s Day a rest. After all, apart from grumbling and sending
the occasional WhatsApp, I’m doing very little mothering nowadays – except of
course, when I find an orphaned hedgehog.
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