Horrible yucky rainy afternoon. I left the washing on the line and it's soaking. I scrubbed the bathroom and realised that it has issues beyond the cosmetic and really needs fixing, along with all the utility rooms in the house. At first I was disheartened, and then I wasn't. It's just stuff, and stuff can be fixed.
Tiny big miracle happened this morning. I got up half an hour earlier than I needed to, without realising, without feeling tired, without being desperate to crawl back to bed as soon as possible. I just found myself out in the kitchen, boiling the kettle, happy to be getting on with my day. I can't remember the last time that's happened. I may have been 6. Minus the boiling kettle.
I watched this video of Diana Nyad a few minutes ago. I was feeling bad for wasting the rest of the day after its fabulous start, for getting irritated with Nathan, who is the world's sweetest teenage boy, for completely mucking dinner up (chow mein bolognese? don't even ask) and I read somewhere in my interweb surfings that she had finally completed her incredible marathon swim from Cuba to Florida a couple of weeks ago, after years of trying. At 64. So I looked her up, and I love her.
It is a wild and precious life, you know. Even if most of the days in it are mundane and difficult.