Such a stern message to read with my breakfast coffee.  With the weight of our democratic responsibilities heavy on our shoulders, we stopped by the polling station on the way to the supermarket this morning and joined a queue to place our crosses in – we hope – the right boxes.

We can do no more.




No need for a further reminder!




As I put the fresh tulips into the vase, I had other things on my mind, for it would have been Mummy’s 85th birthday today.  My ears pricked up as I heard a conversation on Womans Hour with Daphne Todd, shortlisted for the BP Portrait Award, talking about the portrait she painted of her mother.

Of course, I couldn’t help myself but google


Edna abt 1965-1


and reach a very quick and positive conclusion that I prefer to remember my own mother like this.  The kind of memory which Daphne Todd’s extraordinary work provokes are best left undisturbed for now, because believe me, they don’t go away, however hard I try.

One thing is certain, she would not have wanted us to mope.  Time to get on with making further serious decisions…which pillow would we prefer when we are in Montreal shortly?

Do we still have fingernails?

Art Installation