Twenty something year old doing twenty something year old things

 The day of mothering is upon us and thus this great stupendous morn' I set forth to collate all my memories, thoughts and words on my own dear mother into a blog post: a virtual hug if ever there was one and a tall order, for she is taller and more virtuous than could ever be put into words.  Today, like many of us, I am not able to be with her; restricted by an invisible force, I make do by calling, Whatsapp-ing, blogging and (because it's not all about the tinternet) card-ing. I spoke to her last night on the phone and, because of the selfless being that she is, she was preparing items that could be 'sent up to me'. Surely this is the wrong way around? In this list there were seedlings, pots, clothes and vegetables ("I'll put some manure in too").  She is a nurturer of every plant and human that is lucky enough to come within her radius with an after-glow felt far beyond the 5km. The mind-blowing fact of course is that my mother is not where it all beg...

 How do you approach your deadlines? An easy breezy week or two in advance with plenty of time for editing, procrastination and intelligent gathering of brain waves? Or up to the wire, dotted i's, crossed T's the day of?  I always liked to think I was in the first camp, however last weeks experience has shown me that in my old age, I have slipped up. Panic writing for two job applications on two separate days occurred with caffeine and a thesaurus being the necessary survival kit. Cover letters require a degree of cunning, artifice as well as gumption. I generally have these by the bucket load and live to tell the tale. I am hopeful that my future bank account as well as adulthood will thank me. This is also my excuse for not giving you, dear readers, a blog last week. I know that you missed me.  I write this now feeling distinctly cosy--or, to satisfy the Norwegians--Hygge. I returned from child minding 90% wet and 10% human and have recently returned to a semi-normal st...