My sister called me the other day to tell me that she had been tidying up; she had organised some of my mother’s jewellery: and did I want a necklace which I had given my mother? I said I did and she said, “Well, I’m warning you that I’m posting it up to you.” “Warning?” I asked. “Well, you might be upset,” she said. Ludicrous excess of sensibility thought I but it arrived tonight and I was a bit sad actually so there you go.
In other news, herself had a zoom session with the children’s laureate which she enjoyed. She’s working away on a short story in Irish.
And today’s final and, frankly, most exciting piece of news. Herself tells me that a classmate who was with her in primary school has told her that I was the best-looking mother in primary school and, said she, there were murmurs of agreement from the other classmates. God, I’m delighted with myself although I know that to do so is to buy into the values of the patriarchy about women’s worth and value being measured in their looks; also, that was 6 years ago; a bunch of 12 year olds are not the best judges; and, finally, it is not, I fear, remotely true. Still very pleased. Judge away.