Every now and then I am totally bowled over by the way in which my children are finding their own voices and becoming themselves in ways their parents could never have predicted.
There have been moments during the past few months when I've wished that DarlingDaughter would stop being arty and creative and focus on something prosaic and sensible, - like organising her Gap year travel. Not today, though.
Today a huge parcel arrived for her, which she has just opened to reveal a small bookshop's worth of copies of the anthology which she has produced together with friends from her Kilve Court writing course.
And it's lovely. Really, truly lovely.
Of course, as she has just pointed out, I might be suffering from the misplaced enthusiasm of the devoted mother, but even if the content were appalling (unlikely on an invitation only course for "talented young writers") the book itself is a huge achievement, since they organised it themselves, amid the hubub of school, exams and Teenage Life. I'm so proud of them all, - especially Luci.