It was just an ordinary morning. School run done, coffee in hand, back home before 8am. Already running the day in my head - the lifts, the extra sports, the guests, the shopping, the work that needed doing. My mother had had a bad night, which…

Just not quite yet. These letters are being written. Come back soon — or better yet, join the newsletter and you'll be the first to know when something worth reading lands here. — G