I woke late and tired, having slept through all three of the alarms I had set to get me to work on time. The problem was, I had been unable to sleep until dawn, so I was bleary eyed as I dived around, feeding the dog and letting her out while I showered and shot out of the door within twenty minutes of opening my eyes.
My sons had invited me to lunch as it was Mother’s Day in the UK. The only problem was that, while one of them wanted me to cook lunch at his place, the other wanted to make me lunch at his. Not being a mistress of the art of bilocation, a compromise had to be reached.
While I prepared a rich, fruity tagine with cinnamon-spiced couscous for a late brunch at my eldest son’s home, we discussed the problem of his posture. Throughout Nick’s…
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