Tuesday, April 21, 2009

the cloud that distills a mirror....

To my greatest relief the beginnings that were to be my four children required only the most pleasurable effort on my part to create.


Each one made sure to arrive despite very little encouragement from their father and I. Babies were never on our minds at the time!

All the nicest things in life seem to happen unexpectedly.

A red plus sign, some early morning nausea, a nine month headache and there they were!

Three girls and a boy.

I soon learnt with each one of them that like Plath, I was no more their mother than the 'cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow effacement at the wind's hand'.

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