Sentimental nonsense

Mother's Day is just a load of sentimental old nonsense, dreamt up by American greetings card manufacturers. Mothers are for life, not just for Mother's Day. [Insert anti-Valentines Day rant of your choice here, substituting details appropriately.]

Sigh. A cup of tea in bed would have been nice though.

But, Katherine did make me a lovely card, and Conor did give me the box Mr B's iPhone came in*, and Mr B gave me some chocolates (and I'm not even his mum).

Then there was a walk along the beach in the blustery weather. I was heading for the tank defences by the golf course (why they thought the Germans would be interested in playing 18 holes after a journey over the North Sea I don't know, but all the coastal defences I've seen in East Lothian and Fife seem to be protecting golf) but they turned out to be not such an interesting shot, being much smaller and more covered in grass than the East Lothian ones.

Mr B thoughtfully rolled a tyre he found on the beach out into the surf. Actually, I say 'thoughtfully' but he might just have been having fun. But in the end I like this shot of lots of beach stuff instead of the tyre on its own.

No-one fell over. No-one fought. And Mr B provided a limoncello and prosecco cocktail and the Sunday papers when we got home. And the roast lamb's in the oven. All I have to do for the rest of the day is blip, make the Yorkshires and the mint sauce and put my feet up.

* I was expecting to open it to find some fun home made 6 year old nonsense inside. But no, it was just the box. "It's for you to keep your iPod in, Mammy." Thanks love.