It has been cold and rainy this week, and there’s a pandemic, but I’ve been feeling happy.
There’s no major achievement that’s the source of my good cheer. No writing completed or published. Work’s a bit of a drag at present, and there’s no holidays on the horizon. But when I have made it outside for a short walk around the neighbourhood, or driven to the shops for essential supplies, the sight of For Sale signs in front of houses makes me smile. They remind me that - after fifteen weeks - my own personal saga of leaving my old home and moving into a new one has finally come to a close. Perhaps it was only the simple things in life I needed to find contentment: A freestanding house with a little garden, a wife and a dog, FTTC, a slow cooked curry, almost half a million dollars deposited into my bank account.