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Mothering Sunday

When I was little, Mothering Sunday was quite a traditional affair. My Grandmother was very much involved in the local village church and the Mother's Day service was dedicated to children. We would dress in our best clothes and go with our small posies of hand tied flowers which would inevitably involve daffodils.

This memory did get me wondering why we celebrate Mother's Day in March or to be more precise on the fourth Sunday of Lent. I did imagine that it would have some religious history and after just doing a little bit of reading, I discovered quite an endearing story. It dates back to the days when lots of children, often as young as 10 years old were sent away from home to work in service. The church felt that people should be allowed to visit their 'mother' church once a year and visit their families. As they headed home, they picked wild flowers from the hedgerows to give to their mothers as gifts on the way.

I was lucky enough to get flowers, beautiful handmade cards, a trip to London to my favourite  park and was spoiled all weekend. I didn't get to see my own mother but I did see my mother-in-law and had a rather lovely day.


Charlie in the Hot House


Josie in Squirrel Alley


I do love this tree


My sketch in the car on the way home
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