Friday 10 September 2010


My partner arrived home late last night, after coaching football (soccer). He had found that it doesn't pay to put your keys down while the sun is shining but go back to pick them up after dark. He should have made it back when it was twilight, that's the safest time, apparently ;) 

Everything was fine, normal routine.

I didn't hit the computer with the hammer, even though it wouldn't connect with the internet. You know how it is with threats, don't say it if you aren't prepared to follow it through. Behaviour 101.

The day began early, well it began at exactly the same time it normally does but I saw an early portion of it. I helped the Minnow play the fun-ist game, if you've never played it, give it a go, it is called :how to fit a sleeping bag, blanket and rubber mattress into the sleeping bag's case. The crawling, squirming, squashing -  forget Twitster, it has nothing on this. 
The whole family waved her off, crowded on the doorstep, fond farewells - bless. She is the Isle of Wight's problem now ;)
"OMG! It is so amazing! It's like a freaking carnival, here! It's incredible!" 
So, no-word-of-a-lie BESTIVAL is not too bad.

Partner started quiet.
Stayed quiet.
Started muttering and visiting every room in the house.
Got red.
Did the wandering from room to room more.
Got redder.
Kept retracing his steps, miming  the same actions each time.
Started standing on chairs and surveying the rooms.
Imagine King Canute in a tracksuit, and no waves.

"You know the money we got when we sold the car? I had it in my wallet and, like, here's the thing: I think it's in the house."

I found tracking his scent, dogging his footsteps, from room to room untherapeutic.

"You know when I lost the key? I turned my bag out, in the car park, at the football club."

I went, I looked, I did not conquer the idea that I needed to go find me a new hammer.

I blood-hounded my way around the field and the carpark, in the rain.

Nice people found the soggy wallet, they phoned. They even dried out the stack of bills that did not need paying.

There are some seriously good people in the world.

Can you think of any other reasons to be happy?


  1. For me, today, the dreaded SASE sitting on the counter with the mail wasn't a rejection -- it was a request for the full manuscript.
    I should be happy but it makes me feel a bit panicky too.
    You should be feeling very happy and very lucky!

  2. Blogs make me happy. It amazes me that I can stay in my own little corner of the world and connect with people everywhere else. World Wide Web rocks!
    Oh and bubblewrap's pretty good too!

  3. LAURA!!!! Wow! Good luck my fingers are crossed - this is good, it worked today ;)

    Hi Charmaine.
    Blogs are great and bubblewrap is a guilty pleasure :)

  4. Laura's got the best reason! That's great!

    Lots of reasons to be happy.

    When somebody quietly reading my stuff bursts into laughter.

    An e-mail from a reader who got nightmares from my Horror story.

    The green the leaves outside my window turn when it's about to rain.

    Statistically, people who report greater happiness live longer, and they enjoyed it.

    That director I like is doing something big next year.

    Brown sugar barbecue sauce.

    That even though my most recent piece was rejected, I've got an idea for another that is exciting.

    It's all in how you wire your head.

  5. YEAH!
    Summer that is a good call.
    Friday is the day before Saturday, and that's when I'm going to see MUSE!!!!

  6. There really are some good people in the world - I'm glad everything turned out all right :)

  7. I have to agree with you, Jemi.
    This was far too exciting a weekend to have that spoiling my horizons :)

  8. Some things make you feel warm and fuzzy insiThat is a heartwarming story.

    Mine is that my dad has been released from mental health sectioning. He will end his days of Alzheimer's in a home by the sea. It is 6 doors away from where I was born and next to the north sea. A fitting home for a sailor. I can visualise him there from my home in Cyprus.

  9. Hi Glynis I'm glad you are happy. It is must be a comfort to know your Dad is so near to a place that gives you happy memories. The senses can supply information even to unconscious patients so perhaps a little of the familiar could be breaking through for him too. ELAINE