Cleaning is bad for me

For one thing it makes me sneeze and after returning to exercise class on Wednesday after two weeks off that makes my stomach hurt.

The other thing is it gives me time to think and that is never a good idea, at least not when I'm already feeling a bit low.

It began with me pondering over what subject to tackle for my next article in The Bay. I decided it would be along the lines of 'what will you leave behind when you're gone?'

This was after Granddaughter1 had told me she no longer wanted my fox ornament: a few years previously she'd stuck a label on the bottom claiming it.

So I was wondering what we really leave behind. Memories I think, and we can only hope that they're good ones.

Which led to me to thinking: will my children have good memories of me? Will they remember me as a good mother? 

I think I am a wonderful mother (!) but is that what they think? 

Do they think I interfere too much? Or not enough? Do they know they can come to me when they need to? Or am I too dozy to be of any help? I seem to be getting more phone calls these days that start with the words, 'Can I speak to Dad?'

See what I mean? I shouldn't think. I shouldn't clean. It's not good for me.

By the way, my latest article for the September issue of The Bay is available here.