Being properly better at last is enough to make me attempt to click my heels in the air with glee. And thank you to everyone for being so kind in their comments and emails. I hope I am never that wiped out by anything again - too tedious. But terribly touched to be sent gifts for my well being - a care bundle from kind Ann of Frayed at the Edge - lavender bags, warm wristlets, oh-so-welcome tissues - 
- and a double wrapped parcel papered with eclectic bits and bobs, which could only come from my letter-pressing ephemera-loving friend. I was feeling lousy when I opened it, but I smiled as I unwrapped it - 
Under interesting and distracting paper diversities, such as this ever-so-slightly crotchety (but very amusing) response to the now ubiquitous 'Keep Calm' band wagon - 
- was a beautifully scripted note on letter pressed note paper, alongside an ex-library edition of John Masefield's 'Midnight Folk' which I haven't read since I was a child, decorated with lovely line illustrations by Rowland Hilder. Thank you so much.
Andy, like a well trained truffle hound, is now very good at finding books which he's never heard of, but after eighteen years with me, senses to be collectible or valuable - or both. He out-did himself with this one, picked up for 50p. Pookie the Fairy Rabbit is not my era, nor did I have his books when I was little, but as a collector I know it by reputation (and value), especially a scarce early edition in spiffy condition like this one. Nice one Andy!
Having sold several calendars, I decided to spread the love and treat myself to one (number 44 out of one hundred) of Jake Parker's brilliant limited edition book, showing his one-a-day ink sketches from 'Inktober' - now, understandably sold out. Isn't the linework gorgeous? 
The heroic man even included an original artwork with each and every one, which is a bit above and beyond the call of duty, but lucky for those of us who invested in the book. 
However, the best thing to arrive in the post was a photo which I have never seen, of my mum and a small me outside an aunty's house. It was found by her daughter and she thought I'd like it. I have so few childhood photos, most of them taken by other people, and only a handful from my early years. We didn't have a camera; we didn't have much of anything. At the time this was taken, my parents, unmarried and having run off together, were living from hand to mouth on benefits, my elderly alcoholic dad being a chronic invalid, and unable to work. There were two rooms. We had two old single beds in one of them, me sleeping with mum, my dad in the other, in a flat in a slummy converted Victorian house in Exeter. The walls were damp, there was a two bar electric heater, no fridge (which is why I hate Carnation milk - we used that instead of fresh as it wouldn't go off) and the most modern thing we had was an old battery powered radio - even in the late 1960's this was a bit unusual.There was one lavatory shared between several people, and in the winter when the pipes froze, we had to go across to the public facilities in the local park. Much of this I remember, some of it my mum told me; she often talked to me about things she probably didn't realise I was taking in and which I would never forget.
Under the circumstances, cameras - expensive items in those days - and retaining memories were probably the last things on my parent's minds. But this precious little snapshot reminds me that once, a long time ago, I had a mother who loved me very much, even if I didn't have her for very long.
Before I forget -
The Winter online edition of UK Handmade is now available, including a Q&A between myself and Rima and Tui of the Hermitage (pages 40-45)
and finally
and really and truly finally -
We are out walking again, and there are two beautiful new walks recorded in Chedworth and Eastleach on my Cotswold Peeps blog.
I'll shut up now.
