Happy Moments

It is no warmer, and stupidly I forgot my hat when I set off for the fells this morning.

It is a very useful hat, purchased for me by Elspeth when she visited Tibet once, made of yak’s wool or something similarly hairy and tickly, but it is reassuringly warm with ear flaps.

My ears were numb by the time I got back down, and I was feeling uncomfortably deafened from the wind.

I do not understand why people come on holiday to the Lake District at this time of year. I live here, and if I had any money I would jolly well be going on holiday somewhere else, I can tell you.

Not that very many people have come here on holiday. I didn’t see a single soul on my walk this morning, and I made twenty five quid last night. Actually I made twenty nine pounds fifty, but there were a couple of two-pounds coins and a fifty pence with Peter Rabbit on it, and we save those, so they don’t count as real money.

We save the Peter Rabbit coins for Ritalin Boy, although now that he is fourteen I am not sure that he is very interested in Peter Rabbit, and probably just exchanges them for revolting sugary confectionery and Coca-Cola. We save the two-pounds coins for Christmas. We buy the Christmas tree with them, and usually there are quite a lot left, which are blown on general seasonal good living. There is still a very long time to go until Christmas, so it is hard to feel cheerful about two-pounds coins. The good living is still a very long way in the future. There is a lot of labouring to be done before that time.

When I got home I thought I would capitalise on still having my boots on and sawed up the last of the firewood. That is to say, it isn’t the last that we have, we still have quite a good pile of ready sawn-up wood, and of course there is still about thirty tons at the farm, but it is the last of the wood that is hanging about the yard. There was not a very great deal of it. I hope it lasts until Mark comes home, otherwise I am going to have to go to the farm and start swinging the log splitter by myself, and it is jolly heavy.

I do wish we hadn’t invented equality for girls. It leads to doing all sorts of nasty things that once we had an excuse to avoid.

I was very glad when I had finished, and tottered inside to warm my frozen fingers by the stove. They had become so numb that I could hardly feel them, and throbbed horribly as the blood started coming back.

After that the day improved considerably. I had my porridge, which is always a happy moment, it is very pleasing to feel that one is smugly eating something which is actually good for you. I have purchased some chia seeds to be added to it now, but I don’t think much of them. They get stuck between my teeth, and I have not noticed any significant improvement in my general well-being, so I suspect the august Daily Telegraph was either exaggerating or fibbing.

Who would have imagined that from such a respectable newspaper.

I dashed round getting the wretched hoovering done. I should have done it on Monday, but didn’t bother then, and was too idle yesterday. This morning I realised that the dogs had walked so much mud into the carpets that it was becoming an imperative, and so I shoved the hoover around, without enthusiasm.

After that came my Happy Moment of the day, all days should have one of those, even if it is only a handful of chocolate buttons. I can’t have that particular Happy Moment any more, though, because it leads to quantities of lard coming to rest upon my bottom, and so today’s Happy Moment was a meeting with my friend in the computer.

I have not seen her since before Christmas, and was practically squeaking with the pleasure of seeing her again.

We did not stop talking for nearly an hour, and the time flew past. I was very sorry when it was over, but we made a date for the same time next week.

It will be another Happy Moment to which I can look forward.

Hurrah.