Today didn't quite feel like a Sunday. To me, the days after Christmas, between new years and real life, feel like another world. This particular Sunday was also my niece Harriet's sixth birthday.
I can hardly believe she's six already. I used to carry her with just one arm, over my shoulder so small and cuddly. These days she has long hair and can climb just about anything, and she giggles at almost anything I tell her. She has friends of her own, school friends and daughters of our friends and she had them over for a craft party (her choice). My sister wrangled the lot of them under the shade in the yard and they painted their own cotton bags (which I later stuffed with stick-on tattoos and lollies to take home), made snow globes out of old jars, bracelets with wooden beads and colourful pet rocks. She had a butter cake with flowers and we made blackcurrant cordial. It was quite the occasion.