Somewhere in a box or case filled with my paraphernalia and memorabilia is my very first Mother's Day card from The Daughter, received in March 1981, the self-same month she was born. If I could be bothered to get this laptop off my knee and my spreading bum off this comfy sofa, I could probably lay my hand to it within a quarter or a half an hour. But I am settled here, so I am relying on memory instead. I do know that my infant child was a mere fortnight or so old when I received it, so I suspect an outside agency was a work. In fact I know my mother bought it and inscribed therein "on behalf of H------ L----", her two almost brand-new Christian names.
Now, thirty-two years later, she sends her own card, (this year it is early and on the mantelpiece already) and most years she can be relied upon to get it here in time. Last year it lay in her handbag unnoticed for a few days, and that oversight plus a second-class stamp meant it was several days late. When I meeped and chizzed that I'd had nothing on the day (The Daughter is my/our only child, The Husband's first marriage was childless) except from The Dog, courtesy of The Husband, she ordered a bouquet via Interflora which arrived on the Monday morning, as a consolation prize surprise.
I set a bit of store by Mothering Sunday, as you can no doubt guess. The thing is, all my best beloveds have birthdays in March (The Daughter's is 12 March, The Dog's is 17 March and the Husband's is 21 March) so it is quite an expensive month for me. A spot of Mother's Day indulgence in return goes a little way to redressing the balance...!
I have just noticed that the five-day UK weather forecast predicts a chance of snow in quite a lot of areas on Sunday. If it does come down, stick and settle, then that might mess up a few families' plans to celebrate. Heavy snow in March is not unheard of in the UK, and when I was growing up on the Lancashire moors one of the heaviest and most sudden and disruptive falls I can recall happened well into April.
So here is a general greeting to mothers everywhere in the UK (I do realise in the USA your mothers get their day later in the year) to say I hope your card etc arrives by Saturday and you make it out to the celebratory lunch without mishap, or - if they are coming to you - your guests arrive on time and unflustered by wintry showers.
Myself, I will be marvelling at The Dog's ability to shop for and prepare breakfast in bed on a tray, which The Husband tells me he is very conscientious about remembering to do for me, year-in year-out. Smart pooch, eh?