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Reasons to be happy
Dec. 28th, 2008 10:41 pmThere is a poem by Lisel Mueller that begins, "Speaking of marvels / I am alive together with you." More prosaically, the the Times spent some column space this week on how, all things considered, life's not so bad.
So. I am alive. I am in Edinburgh, a city I love enough to think wistfully about the necessity of my being an English lawyer. Yesterday, the world was frosted; I drew a heart in the covering on a wheelie bin and it stayed there in the ice for twelve hours. We went walking in the crisp and perfect air, met small dogs and little old ladies and a cheerful trio of Highland cattle, leaving snarls of fluff on fences. We stopped in a pub with a log fire and a book exchange, and I gave a pound to charity and took away a novel.
Novels exist! Well, I suppose they always did, but I'm still full of joy reading them again. Writing, too, is possible, and joyous, and I have a slow, steady stream of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
yuletide comments in my inbox. I am well in my head. I have nightmares, still, but I always wake up, and I never wanted to be king of infinite space anyway. I am in love, with life and law and my most favourite boots and cheese sandwiches with added tablet and with a human being, who is currently draped fluidly on the end of the bed, considering the logistics of a series of Wikipedia articles, beginning with "Elephants in Scotland".
When I was at home, my parents gave me two birthday presents: a thick, pink and grey scarf from Banana Republic and a dress with silver-sequinned roses on it. Partly, they will be away; partly, my birthday is not the most exciting thing that happens on January 20th, 2009, and they wanted to get in early. Speaking of my parents, they want to go to Hong Kong in the summer, and they want me to come with them.
Christmas was perfect, down to a stocking with a satsuma, walnut and hazelnut in it. (And a slinky, a tiny model of a puppy and The Tales of Beedle the Bard.) I'm going back down south soon, but I think I've actually had a holiday and a rest for the first time in months. And New Year is one of my favourite things, and that's yet to come. 2008 really is nearly over. Usain Bolt and David Tennant and Stephen Fry and the entire cast of Merlin still exist. I still don't have to learn to knit.
The Doctor Who Christmas special was lovely and had only the tinest bits that needed smacking. I am re-reading A Christmas Carol, because of it, and it is lovely. I am lying around after midnight eating sweets, and I'm a grown-up and I'm allowed. The Christmas holidays are nearly over but I never have to go back to school again.
And now perhaps to bed: which is warm, and has a radiator next to it, and is entirely too small for two people, and another reason for uncomplicated joy. Speaking of marvels, I am alive together with you.
So. I am alive. I am in Edinburgh, a city I love enough to think wistfully about the necessity of my being an English lawyer. Yesterday, the world was frosted; I drew a heart in the covering on a wheelie bin and it stayed there in the ice for twelve hours. We went walking in the crisp and perfect air, met small dogs and little old ladies and a cheerful trio of Highland cattle, leaving snarls of fluff on fences. We stopped in a pub with a log fire and a book exchange, and I gave a pound to charity and took away a novel.
Novels exist! Well, I suppose they always did, but I'm still full of joy reading them again. Writing, too, is possible, and joyous, and I have a slow, steady stream of
yuletide comments in my inbox. I am well in my head. I have nightmares, still, but I always wake up, and I never wanted to be king of infinite space anyway. I am in love, with life and law and my most favourite boots and cheese sandwiches with added tablet and with a human being, who is currently draped fluidly on the end of the bed, considering the logistics of a series of Wikipedia articles, beginning with "Elephants in Scotland".When I was at home, my parents gave me two birthday presents: a thick, pink and grey scarf from Banana Republic and a dress with silver-sequinned roses on it. Partly, they will be away; partly, my birthday is not the most exciting thing that happens on January 20th, 2009, and they wanted to get in early. Speaking of my parents, they want to go to Hong Kong in the summer, and they want me to come with them.
Christmas was perfect, down to a stocking with a satsuma, walnut and hazelnut in it. (And a slinky, a tiny model of a puppy and The Tales of Beedle the Bard.) I'm going back down south soon, but I think I've actually had a holiday and a rest for the first time in months. And New Year is one of my favourite things, and that's yet to come. 2008 really is nearly over. Usain Bolt and David Tennant and Stephen Fry and the entire cast of Merlin still exist. I still don't have to learn to knit.
The Doctor Who Christmas special was lovely and had only the tinest bits that needed smacking. I am re-reading A Christmas Carol, because of it, and it is lovely. I am lying around after midnight eating sweets, and I'm a grown-up and I'm allowed. The Christmas holidays are nearly over but I never have to go back to school again.
And now perhaps to bed: which is warm, and has a radiator next to it, and is entirely too small for two people, and another reason for uncomplicated joy. Speaking of marvels, I am alive together with you.
