I have been a busy bee this weekend. Did I work on the presentation due this week? Well, not yet. But I have not been (wholly) idle.
I made delicious nut-and-grain bread (more on that later in the week) in my new silicone bread pan and nourishing lotion bars for dry hands and lips. I snapped up a sturdy, beachy basket to decorate and organise the living room and a handful of vintage bias and twill tapes for my sewing basket. In my drive to revivify my living room (on the assumption it ever was alive), I made a slip cover for one of the dark chairs and bought sandpaper to aid in the refinishing of the one piece in the living room I can re-paint: the clock. I even made a pillow to perk up our bed.
Today is my dear Mumsy’s birthday. Looking back at all I’ve done this weekend, I can trace most of it back to her influence. I have vivid memories of her ll throughout my childhood, whipping up bright new slipcovers (much more complicated than the one I did this weekend) on her metal sewing machine and popping out pillows to brighten up the living room and breathe new life into old furniture. And she’s the one who took the plunge into healthy eating when I was in college that still colors most of what I eat today, like the flourless bread I’ve been inhaling all month.
Even the book and a half I polished off this weekend is thanks to Mumsy sitting reading with me when I was tiny, the second most precious gift she gave me.
This is the woman who coordinated and cooked all the food for my wedding in her little kitchen… with coordinating aprons for the servers. Who made our Halloween costumes from scratch every year and taught me how to make my own (which stands me in good stead these days). Who can still beat me at Scrabble two times out of three.
But most of all, she and Daddy told me all the time that they loved me. Even if I didn’t get perfect grades. Just because. And that made all things possible.
Happy birthday, Mumsy Dearest. I hope I’ve made you feel just a little bit as loved as you’ve always made me. Never worry that you’re not smart enough or pretty enough or enough enough. You’ve always been enough.