Day 379: Couldn't Be Happier

I just couldn't be happier with today. It has been a pleasure from (early) start to finish.

I'm so grateful for public transport keeping its promises. I was picked up by an arse-faced driver at just past 6am this morning. I'd been up for about half an hour. He must have been up considerably longer than that. Not surprised about the face.

The bus worked and the tube worked and the ticket machine worked and the train worked. Even my seat reservation worked. I had two table companions, a man and an almost-man. The AM could have been anything from 16 to 23 or so - he was something of a whippersnapper, and very pleasant. Massive headphones. NO SOUNDBLEED! I was impressed. 

Isn't dawn brilliant! Early morning dawn, not Dawn, an old friend from Hasbro, Dawn who always stuck two fingers up at me with the hugest glee, Dawn, the tiny bundle of vibrancy and humour, photographer, netball player, designer Dawn. She's brilliant too. 

Today's morning skies were something of a religious experience. It started with a taint of pink and orange insinuating itself through the clouds. Even at that time in the morning, the light was showing that it was going to be strong today. The colouring spread, then hid again, then took over the sky with a bit of a fanfare until the sun stole the limelight... half a sun, tainting the rest of the sky with its orange; a whole sun, dominating the horizon, then lifting slowly. It definitely had the upper hand today. The clouds were second fiddle and no mistake. 

I got picked up from the station. That's a rare occurrence. I often arrive at places and have a secret wander before heading to my destination. It's nice, but not as special as someone taking the trouble to drive out in good time and be waiting when you get there. And I got to go to a wood yard. My dungarees were twitching in my bag at the smell of wood and even the suggestion of DIY. 

Like this, but a better brown,
messier and with a girl in them.

 I love those dungarees. They're dark brown Carhartt working dungarees which I got when I was working on the farm at Esalen more than ten years ago. I haven't farmed in them for a long time, but I use them every time there's an opportunity to do DIY or anything messy. I love that I can wipe my hands, scraper, paintbrush on them at any point (I think that most clothing should be to keep food off your skin). I love that it just doesn't matter what they, or I, look like. They have lots of paint on them, in lots of colours. They have pockets and loops to hang tools in and more pockets and poppers and buttons and pads on the knees. They make me very, very happy indeed. 

Today was DIY heaven and power tool porn. An industrial steamer thingy for stripping wallpaper. We stripped and washed and polyfilled a whole room. It was a feast of work and sensual pleasure. It's easy to spit out clichés and to say certain things are 'better than sex', but there is a deep delight that you sense in your body in peeling strip after long strip of wallpaper from a wall, especially when there's an industrial steamer involved. When it's easy, it flows and feels good. When it's tricky, the satisfaction when success arrives is even greater. And perhaps I need to choose my partners more wisely. Life's a balance.

Wallpaper stripper AND diagram. Ace!

I love being useful and I really quite like being covered in crud, wallpaper paste, water and little flaky bits of paper. I enjoyed every second, balanced at the top of a ladder or crouching with a dustpan and brush. Today rocked.

Oh, and the lady this morning! She approached me in the St. Leonard's hospice shop, where I was looking for a decorating t-shirt. She gave me a very lovely, very warm compliment, which I accepted with a little bit of surprise and then she started talking and said all manner of things to me. It felt like she'd been looking inside my head. It felt like she might have been following me around over the past month or so and taking part in the things I've been discovering and the concerns I might be having. I'm not going to write exactly what she said. It was a gift to be grateful for, but not broadcast in its detail, I think. I am grateful, and humbled. And I'm still not totally sure that the lady actually existed. Perhaps I imagined her. Either way, I got the message. Thank you.

In summary, then... people I love, doing things I love, love coming at me from strangers and a trip up to Lilley and Daniel's eyrie for a solid night's sleep. 

An owl couldn't be happier.