Kapiti Sunset

My Dear Princess and Dear Fellows,

Today I felt happy. 

It wasn't like that bubbling-over exultation that you feel when you've won something or done something or watched a great film or danced until dawn with your mates or kissed someone or received good news or anything like that.

It was a more gradual dawning realisation. Like when you wake up in the morning and find that a cat has settled in the crook of your arm. 

I was walking to the Railtracks Superette (our nearest corner shop, five minutes away) and the sun was setting and I just realised I love my house, I love my garden, I love all the birds that come to visit, I love my wife, my job is pretty good, I love Punky and Jasper and that soon I'd be receiving a call from Princess Normal and it occurred to me that I'm happy and content. 

And then. Because I am me. I got worried. Because in films. When people are happy. They inevitably get hit by lightning. Or squashed by a car. Or shot by terrorists and then Stephen Seagal goes to their funeral and swears vengeance.

So. Let me be clear. I am happy. But not that fecking happy. Okay?

Pretty sunset though. 

And me and the Princess did indeed have our usual intellectual chat a couple of hours later. I mentioned that I had bought her a "toilet book" to read on the toilet and it turns out that she doesn't believe in The Little Library. She's a do-your-business-and-get-out sort of woman. Me, I'm a sitter and a thinker. My bum needs time to contemplate.

Yet we are still friends despite this wide chasm between us. Another cause for celebration.

Finally, I actually did wake up with a cat in the crook of my arm today. 

S.