Day 1 - grateful things

Today, I was on the London Overground from Acton, early in the morning.

A man got on with a shiny new i-phone 4S and his music on so loud, everyone in the carriage could hear all the words, only through a crappy, tinny filter.

It really annoyed me and I wanted to do something about it. I thought of just asking him to turn it down, but I felt too frumpy and cross-faced to do that. So what else?

Wouldn't it be great, I thought, if everyone in the carriage, one by one, got up and danced at this man, at him in his face. Really badly. All of us.

If you're going to play your music so loud, I'm going to bloody well join in. As as the music sounds bad through your headphones, so will my dancing be bad. Hideous, in fact.

So that's what I was thinking about, all the way. I got the giggles quite badly and tried hard to laugh quietly into my chin.

I didn't actually get up and dance at him, because I felt like I might seem, or even genuinely be, a mad lady if I did. I didn't want anyone to think that of me, so I sat tight. I don't think the giggling helped.

Then the man got off (at West Hampstead - good choice, sir) and another man got on and sat in the same seat, with massive headphones on. I was almost disappointed when they didn't make a noise. Genuinely. Either way, both of them had made my journey quite pleasing.

The sunrise over the Heath was humbling in its beauty. There was frost in the grass and the ladies' pond was covered in mist. The ladies in the changing room made me laugh. The water was proper well-'ard cold. I was proper well 'ard.

I had a snippet of a meeting with a beloved friend. There was a moment when I wondered whether it was going to be worth going round for sucha short time, but oh, it was. So worth it.

Rich Tea biscuits were on offer at £1 in a local newsagent's. I was very pleased and the man who sold them laughed at me. And I finally found a Saturday Guardian for my friend, even though most places had sold out.

Cheesecake. Kale. Rainbow chard. Ginger.

So many things.