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oh baby

You know that I’m a weeper. But I surprised even myself just now – I’m sitting here, tears pouring down my face at the news of the royal baby boy. I don’t give a sh*t about the royal family, so why am I in tears? Well – it’s a healthy baby, and there has been such a fuss that I’m happy for those nice young people that it’s over and all’s well. And he’s a Leo! The best of the best, my friend.

But mostly, I’m thinking of Diana. One of the CBC radio people said that the baby’s grandmother would be his guardian angel. It was startling to think of Diana as a grandmother – as it has been startling, this past year, to think of myself as one. I weep that she will not know this greatest of joys. I am grandmother to a baby boy, I was there beside his mother when he was born, and nothing, nothing in the world could matter more.

Diana’s children are almost exactly the same age as mine. She is not here to watch them. I mourn for her.

Oh my God, now we’ll have to watch this poor little guy grow up, every twitch in the public eye, like his father and uncle. Very tough. I’m sure that his mother will be there for the long haul. Welcome to the world, little guy. I really do not care at all about your stuffy old family. And yet – my mother was British, and I’m about to call Auntie Do. And I’m drinking rosé, to toast new life.

Well, I’m drinking rosé.

Yesterday, more importantly in my own tiny world, was my annual Writing in the Garden workshop, and I have to say, this one was spectacular. The weather was perfect, and the group could not have been more brave, interesting and compatible. One emailed today: Very special experience and a fabulous group of women. So many universal themes and everyone was so open.
Another: What a superb group in attendance – such kind, generous women with great senses of humour! Lunch was delicious and the bubbly with cheesecake was a treat.
And: I want to thank you for an inspiring, encouraging, safe and beautiful writing experience yesterday. It was a charmed day, start to finish. Aren’t we fortunate people! 


Yes, yes we are. Here’s to new life, on paper, and in London. 


P.S. The winner of the CBC Creative Non-fiction awards was announced today. I’d read the nominated stories, and I have to say that I didn’t even finish the one that won. I thought it was the second weakest of the bunch. So there you go. I am right, and they are wrong. Twas ever thus. 

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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