"The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I’ve no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I’ll dig with it."

From "Digging" by Seamus Heaney

Luckily, my cancer was caught early, and I’ve had five kids (including triplets) with my solo ovary. The daft thing is, I wasn’t much of a Beatles fan at the time, but I did like George Harrison. I cried when I heard about his death, but I cried so much more when I realised his death saved my life.

As it turned out, I also had an ovarian cyst the size of a football. If I hadn’t gone into hospital, the cyst likely would have ruptured. Instead, the cyst and ovary were safely removed. If George Harrison hadn’t died of cancer, I probably wouldn’t have considered the lump might be a tumour.

Happy birthday! 🎂 I've been wanting A YEAR OF SPRINGS since forever, but I've always felt like it'd be cheeky to buy it for myself when I have kids, and money's been really tight lately. So, thank you so much! Have THE BEST day! 🎉