It’s been a day of making cookies, drinking tea and long walks with my long dog.
Mother’s Day here in the UK. So for all the mums, for all the mums to be and for all the people that hope to be one day. For the men who take the role, aunts, grandparents and adoptive parents through any circumstance: Happy Mother’s day!
I made pin wheel shortbread cookies. It was, undoubtedly, an experiment. Which, by all accounts turned out pretty well. Although I think next time I will try to make the swirl more prominent. They’re still cute cookies. I intent to post up the recipe later this week, with step by step pictures (because I remembered to take them this time).
My long walk with Aro (the 8 and a bit month old Grey Hound Cross), AKA Demon Dog (currently sat by my side licking the carpet), took me to Wibsey. I paid a fleeting visit to my Papa and his Girlfriend, to drop of cute biscuits, boxed with the important addition of tea and of course, daffodils. Demon dog decided it was a good idea to use his very long body and attempt to jump every wall we came near. Which on this particular rout, was aprox 79.9% of it. I looked like I was walking a freaking Kangaroo, in fact he has to be related to one, there just has to be one in his bloodline somewhere.
The rest of the afternoon I spent seeing my mum. My wonderful, beautiful best friend. The woman who helped to make me who I am. Simply spending time drinking tea and rambling to each other is a perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon together. I could ask for no more. We’ve not always seen eye to eye, especially when I went through rebellious teen phase and refused to come home after countless Friday and Saturday nights at the pub. The time I nearly, almost nearly kicked the window out of the back of her Saab because someone thought I couldn’t handle the fact my boyfriend (at the time) had cheated on me so called her to come collect me from my best friend’s birthday party. Which for the record I was completely OK, everything was under control apart from the fact I was hell bent on revenge.
Mum was there. There to listen to me cry and scream non-sense. Always there. I know I’m majorly lucky to have her. I also know that I probably don’t tell her enough of the time what she means to me. So despite my thinking that Mother’s day, Valentine’s day and other countless days are a commercial load of bollocks to make money, it is a good time to remind people what they mean to us. It reminds me to tell her I appreciate and love her. Completely.
Here’s to Mum!