Four of our five were in our local drama group’s pantomime tonight, playing two stall holders, a thief and a dancing girl. Steph and I leant together, bursting with pride at their poise and presence. I glory at the creation of this beautiful flesh that is us, but not us. Not just on stage, but at the breakfast table, I am spellbound by their uniqueness. We are not even the archer, only the bow, and the arrow has all the wonder of flight ahead.