Perfect Day

I was feeling a bit uninspired this morning when it came to writing my blog. But then it occurred to me that yesterday really was a perfect day – a gem in miniature as my English teacher used to say (although she was talking about Silas Marner and – just between you and me – I think she was mad because when I went to university almost the first thing I realised is that it is a dreadful book). But back to yesterday. This is what I did (and forgive me if you fall asleep into your keyboard reading this):

I did some work in the morning.

I entertained (is that the right word?) the plumber. Well, I made interested noises when he explained to me about cisterns.

I spoke to a friend in Australia.

I went to the library.

I bought flowers and a very handsome free-range chicken.

I made two trips to the post office.

Luíseach made us delicious gin, elderflower and soda cocktails. Oh, and then she followed up with lentils and Toulouse sausages.

I read my book and then the three of us watched Judge John Deed and commented on all the stupid things he did.

And the sun was shining for most of it.

So here’s to the perfectly ordinary, ordinarily perfect days. And because now that song is in my head: