May was a big month. I planted seeds, the first in many years. With blackened fingernails, cold damp hands hands and a chopstick. Coriander, basil, thyme, chives, rosemary, mint. Herbs which without, life has little meaning.
Then things grew and flowered and whispered to me that winter was over.
I went to London, alone. I left Nye and the girls to their own devices and spent a night and two days visiting friends and exploring what will one day be our new neighbourhood. It was sweet, delicious freedom. I crossed roads without the green man, I read books on the train, I held babies that weren't mine. I was reminded that our time of babyhood has well and truly passed, a new crop has arrived to take their rightful place as new lives in this world.
I came home, to my best people. Some of them welcomed me back, some of them did not.
The girls grew bigger and bigger and learned to spell in the bath. Ella said 'oh fuh.'
We took an ill-fated camping trip and I learned big lessons about parenthood.
Ella made a shiny offering to her nemesis. Ammie's curls grew wilder.