Are there glow worms in the Botanical Gardens?

I am fully aware of the fact that this isn't episode three. Don't really give a fuck about episode three right now. It is quite early in the morning and my head is gently protesting that last glass of red I had last night. But I was commemorating. And commiserating. Now I'm kind of fucked off. Not entirely sure why.

I was feeling a bit reckless last night and went for a run through the Bot Gardens at about 7pm and underneath the canopy it was pitch black. Probably not that wise, more because of the risk of a twisted ankle where the ground is really uneven than because of being mugged. I had it all planned out what i was going to yell at the fucker if I got attacked anyway. But I saw what looked like little green LCD lights along one of the banks. What the hell were they, I'm not sure?

Got through yesterday relatively unscathed. Felt kind of heavy in the morning, but I think this was far diminished from the previous year, and may have been more attributable to something, someone else entirely. Got an email from my sister - the Tauranga one, not the Chile one marking the occasion. And a phone call from Frank not saying anything overt but just letting me know in his quiet way that he is there, and so I could talk to Jake, who told me he likes the Brother Bear dvd I got him for Easter except it's a bit sad because one of the characters D - E - Is. He actually spelt it out for me. I pissed myself laughing.

But I was still kind of hungry for solitude and some angsty music by the end of my working day, and after I'd bought the wine, a huge bit of steak, and some stuff for a salad, I headed home. On the way, at a set of lights waiting to cross, is the first time I get a bit misty eyed. Watching this woman with one kid in a push chair and another, a boy, about I dunno three years old, and they were standing waiting too and the little boy was basically on the road with nothing between him and the traffic screaming around the corner. And I stood there and thought shit lady, I would never be so reckless with my child's safety. Then I thought of Jake. Then I thought of Mum. And in my usual egocentric tradition I was reminded of one of the key reasons I had been terrified about losing her. Her being the guru of motherhood, I didn't know how I would get by without her when I had little ones myself (which admittedly seemed a bit more imminent at the time we spoke on the topic than today). She said something about kids being resilient and how you could pretty much drag them up. (A huge comfort at the time - you'll fuck up, but unlikely you'll kill them). But on this day I know she would have scowled at the kid (or his mother) at the lights too. And I realised having seen her with Jake, and even Kelly to some extent, for those years, that I had received more than what I had consciously appreciated. And it was what I had had, not what I had lost, that made me get teary there at the traffic lights. Time really does work magic.