Hand-lettered sailing quote on aged paper

The glass in the chandlery has been rattling since Tuesday, and I have hung your father's old oilskin on the nail by the door because I cannot bring myself to give it to the rag man. Mrs Penhallow says the wind will go round to the north by the weekend and bring the herring back, though she said the same last year and we ate tinned pilchards until Easter.

You will think I am writing to scold you about the letter from Falmouth, the one that said the mate had put you on the ropes for a month and you had blisters the size of pennies. I am not. Your grandfather used to say a smooth sea never made a skilled sailor, and he said it every time I complained about the weather, which was often. I thought he said it to annoy me. Now I think he meant the ropes were the lesson and the blisters were only the receipt.

I have started going down to the slip in the mornings to watch the boats go out past the breakwater. Nobody there knows what to make of a woman in her good coat with a flask. Yesterday the Morwenna's new boy waved at me, and I waved back like a fool, and then I stood there until the sails were nothing but a grey smudge against the cloud.

Come home at Christmas if they let you. The kettle is still the one you broke, and I have kept the lid in the drawer for you to glue.

Your loving mother, Ada