Tuesday, March 24, 2009

pyjama reflections

There is someone with a pneumatic drill in the vicinity. I live in an exceptionally (relatively speaking) quiet spot and it feels as though some alien, and not the friendly kind, has landed and is letting me know of its intentions, which are all about – well, invasion. If I ignore it perhaps it will go away.

So, lets talk about Mother’s Day. Sweet Daughter came with a card that said lovely things, later we went for meal out, and Son sent me a musical e-card and a recording of him with his barbershop band crooning a love song. I don’t care how much the miserable gits bang on about all this being an invention of the card industry, we need our small and large festivals, our special days, and I’m for them – yes, even pancake day – the more the better, I say; both pancakes and festivals. Mother’s Day can be a bit of a loaded one, of course, if you have had a conflicted or downright bad relationship with the mater, but even I managed a card with a photo of a large-eyed rabbit on it and a bunch of daffodils from my garden. She is getting better at taking these tokens of daughterly affection but did immediately point me in the direction of the sumptuous basket of flowers and big expensive-looking card my sister had sent. How nice, I said. She doesn’t actually find it that easy to receive gifts from me, but neither does it sit well if I don’t give. The classic occasion was the time when I had been instructed several times, and in no uncertain terms, not to bring anything at all for a birthday bash she was having in London – no card, present – nothing, and especially not the cake I had planned to make because she didn’t, repeat didn’t, want that or anything else and was that understood? Well the upshot was that I was the only one who arrived empty-handed. My sister made a speech and then there were murmurings to the effect that it was a shame no-one had thought to bring a cake. The mater looked at me, suitably stricken, and got, basically, what she wanted. So you could say it all worked out a treat.

But what am I doing sitting here in my red, white and tinsel pyjamas that are becoming almost as much as an established part of my sartorial repertoire as my purple trousers? I should be getting dressed and ready to go to a certain shrink-artiste in Brighton, getting stuff in the post, shopping for salad and spring onions, writing the next bit of my woman-on-the-edge-with-a-shrink-and-cigarette-habit thing. I think I will carry on sitting here a while – not do anything, and see what happens. The drilling has stopped. Silence.

10 comments:

Kahless said...

Yes, mothers day is a loaded one.

I am glad your kids love you that they were thoughtful on mums day.

Reading the Signs said...

I had you in mind with this one, Kahless - because of the loadedness of it.

Kahless said...

I didnt send a card, though I did give the cards a quick glimpse.

Zhoen said...

Fraught relationships warn us to cherish the good ones. Good your own offspring seem to have found creative ways to touch you.

Digitalesse said...

Sympathies regarding the pneumatic drills. If there's one sound I hate, it's the din of the pneumatic drill. Reversing beeps and the clanging of scaffolding poles are not far behind.

seahorse said...

Drink in some silence for me :-) Drills, car alarms, chainsaws and mowers are the symphony of surround sound in my neck of the woods. If only there was a wood. As for mothers...did I mention chainsaws?

Reading the Signs said...

Kahless, I'm not surprised, in the circumstances.

Zhoen, I think it can work like that - thank goodness, really.

Digi, I have no idea from whence they came or to what purpose, but they are mercifully gone now.

Seahorse, ah that chainsaw feeling, I know it well. Fortunately I do have the woods, from which I send a clear draught of pure silence in your direction.

nmj said...

Hey Signs, I have a few dysfunctional rships in my life - familial or otherwise - but thankfully the one with my mother is lovely and I cherish that we have such closeness. Glad your kids cherish you. I just have to add that I love the specificness of Dig's 'clanging scaffolding poles', I can hear them loud & clear!

Collin Kelley said...

Oh, dear. I started reading your post and thought, "Oh, dear god, I've forgotten Mother's Day!" Then realized ours isn't until May in the states. Whew! My mother prefers food to a card.

Reading the Signs said...

NMJ, my nuclear family is properly functional, so happlily something went right.

Collin - chocolate and walnut cake. I say this because the moment I read "food" it is what I thought of - my fave cake of the moment. And you have plenty of time to make one for your mother (Nigel Slater's recipe) :)