Hello folks, thanks for dropping by. Today, as I crossed the street in my small Australian regional town, I passed a handsome hairy wolfhound crossing the other way. “What a great-looking dog; Mum would have loved to stop and say hello to him,” I thought. And there it came: the burst of sadness upon me, running through my mind and body like cold water from a balloon. I didn’t cry, or even sniff. I kept walking to the supermarket and health food store, but trailing my dripping heart behind me, just for a moment. She’s been gone one year, two months. And I’m relieved she’s free of dementia, as I’ve said many times, as well as all the painful memories and stresses which came between us as I grew up. But sometimes, I wish I could call her. I’d love to tell her about the wonderful film I just saw, ‘Good luck to you Leo Grande’ with Emma Thompson (you MUST see it if you haven’t already). Or the delicious fancy meal my son ’22’ …