on happiness

Sun shining in a bedroom window on a comfy quilt makes me happy.

I'm one of those (sickening, to some) people who is perpetually happy. I can't help it. My favourite saying: "It could be worse." The glass is not only half full, but someone's on their way to top it up. I used to wish that I wasn't so cheerful, because I wanted people to take me seriously, and not think that I was an empty-headed grinning idiot. But then I accepted that it's just who I am (the cheerful part, not so much the empty-headed idiot part), and just as more serious people have their place in the world, so do I. (Good grief, I'm sounding like Stuart Smalley.) I'm just sunny, and if I can brighten someone else's day, all the better. While recognizing and acknowledging that there are awful things happening all of the time, everywhere, I try to help. I try to make things better. I need to do more of this.

On a completely different note, we did a bit of landscaping today. (Translation: my dad came over with his chainsaw this afternoon and I planted a few new things after Phillip went to bed). I was picking up some silicone soap molds at lunchtime at Canadian Tire, and saw that they still had a few struggling, pitiful trees on clearance. I bought an 8 foot lilac tree for $15 (regularly $89!) and a spirea for $1 (regularly $15). We had some scrubbly evergreens by the back door which were nice for the birds to nest in, but completely impractical in just about every other way. Since the birds have left for the winter, we had dad cut them down. I'll use the branches on the flower beds this winter, and we'll use the wood for firewood next year. My fingers are crossed that the lilac will bloom next Spring, but the tree may have been too stressed in its box-store pot. We do have another lilac in the yard, which is very old, and didn't bloom at all this year. It may be on its last legs, but I'm going to consult Marjorie and see if I can't revive it. There's the optimist in me!