Put the kettle on, it's Mothering Sunday
This morning we scrabble around for the electric kettle after turning off the Aga. This might not seem a very exciting first sentence to a blog post but there is a point to it, believe me. Mr Grigg finds the lead, sprays me with water as he attempts to fill the kettle up at the sink while I'm peeling potatoes and then goes off in a huff to see his dear old mum with an orchid after I tell him off for whistling tunelessly to the theme from Gladiator . Peace at last. I contemplate a pottering kind of morning, preparing a family buffet while listening to music as loud and tuneful as I like. Today it is the stirring tunes of Hans Zimmer. It is Mothering Sunday, it is my day and I get to choose the music. 'My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.' I put the ...