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Mommy has Omi Mommy has Omi And she’s locked herself away I think it must be serious 'Cos its nearly half a day  And Dad has burnt the toast and it smells like really bad This is like the worst day I've ever had Mommy has Omi And I think she must be ill Cos she’s been sleeping since this morning And even took a pill For the headache and she says She’s like aching really bad This is like the worst day I've ever had Mommy has Omi I don’t think she thought this through ‘Cos the Cocopops are finished I like don’t know what to do ‘Cos like three of us need breakfast Oh, it’s like actually me and Dad This is like the worst day I've ever had Mommy has Omi I'm already late for school ‘Cos Dad’s in a flat spin And this is so not cool OMG he just told me we would have to isolate I just realised this day could  Turn out like REALLY GREAT!

I’ve always been fascinated by mosaics. The idea of creating patterns or pictures using cut pieces of tile and glass which are then grouted together appeals to the part of me which loves fixing and repurposing broken stuff. Patchwork quilts hold a similar fascination for me as my mother used to cut and piece together little squares of fabric cut from the leftovers of garments she had made for herself and my sister and I.  In my early twenties I took a few patchwork courses learning the technicalities of piecing together accurately measured and pre-cut fabrics which were bought for the specific purpose of being coordinated, cut and then sewn back together to adorn the beds of my new home. I was so proud of this newly acquired skill. My mother was rather puzzled by the process of buying fabric for the purpose of cutting it up into little pieces and tried in vain to explain to me that this seemed to defeat the object of using leftovers that would otherwise become discarded and wasted.  Th