well, I'll be...
Out of the blue, out of nowhere, I have been contacted by social services because my birth mother wants to get in touch. Crap. They are forwarding 30 years' worth of letters to me as way of introduction; with the disclaimer that her writing style is "florid" and that she's more normal in person.
How unbelivably tiresome. I have absolutely no interest in re-establishing a tie with her - although I recognise that it might well be beneficial for her - this merely complicates my life and feels like an obligatory chore. Bugger.
Happy news: Sprout has learnt to smile.