Gasping for a cuppa on my return from my recent sit in Somerset, having spent what seemed like an age on the train home which was really only a couple of hours, I went to retrieve my favourite mug from the Welsh dresser in the kitchen to find it missing!  Was it broken?!

“It’s in the cupboard.”  My Mother replied to my enquiry of its whereabouts. “I don’t like it!”

When I pointed out that the mug, a birthday present from a valued friend, had been sitting on that particular shelf for sometime now and looked, I thought, rather good amongst the other pieces of crockery displayed there her response was, “It’s my house!”

Although I’ve only been living on my own for a few years, I do feel I still know how to compromise, so as my Mother left the kitchen I firmly placed my mug back in its rightful place, on the dresser!

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