Happy Mother's Day to you all

A bizarre Mother's Day - freezing cold, rain, hail, hot sun, and right now, a burst of sleet followed by more sun. I just hope Anna and Eli were not out in the downpour. I'm preparing to go over there soon, with a basket of goodies - a bunch of lilies of the valley, lilac and forsythia from the garden, potted lilac and spices for her garden, some foodstuffs from Daniel and Daniel, a hanging basket of flowers, a bottle of wine (for me.) Sam will meet us there briefly, as he's working later, and we'll celebrate all mothers everywhere, and those who are not mothers but who have a mother, too.

Poor Richard the roofer (to be differentiated from Richard the termite hunter and Richard my dear neighbour the royalty expert) is out there in this ghastly weather pulling away at my neighbour's wall - well, my wall. The termites have gone deep and they've gone high, and there are ants too. Everything has to be ripped off, killer Richard will come to spray, roofer Richard, who is impervious to weather, will replace it all. The new wall will cost a fortune, and I will never see it.

Ah well - it's not ill health, it's not unhappiness, it's just money. The only thing that matters now, as I call a cab to get me and my heavy goodies across town, is to celebrate life and love with family and friends on this, my 32nd Mother's Day, my first without my own mother, and my daughter's first with her boy. Last year, on Mother's Day, I called Mum, and we all talked to her. Anna did not have a son, only a bulge, a very active, kicking bulge we could not wait to meet.

Today, what matters is to eat and drink and toast, and hold a little boy close.

Just heard Eleanor Wachtel's interview with Kate Atkinson, who says because she was an only child and only had one child herself, a daughter, she had no understanding of the male psyche until getting to know her grandson. Now, she says, as a result of this young boy, she understands much more about men. Eli will do that for me too.

Understanding men: priceless.