I would like to record that today is a glorious day.
I have just returned to Galway from a week of substitute teaching, of which I loved every minute. I felt like I turned a corner in teaching this week. Never once did I feel that old panic pushing up from my stomach and distracting my brain from thinking clearly. Everything I encountered this week felt before, possible and afterwards, successful in some small way. I felt a different kind of tiredness at the end of the week, a tiredness that was not crushed or heavy, but instead a satisfaction in a good work done and a hope of more happy work to come. This, for me, is a long awaited miracle.
So this morning, I slept until I woke, just after nine, and I felt totally rested and refreshed. Isn’t that always a miracle?
The back door is open and outside the air is fresh and soft and the birds are singing.
I took the chicken carcass out of my freezer and I began to make stock. The big pot has been bubbling away for most of the afternoon and the sound of first simmering and then boiling as I reduce it, and the smell of herbs and carrots and leek and chicken is making me happy. I am using the recipe from this book:
I left my tea leaves steeping for too long and was surprised by a depth of flavour I have never tasted from a tea bag.
I mixed up a marshmallow krispie slice for tomorrow’s Bible study in about three minutes flat. I have perfected this skill to a shocking degree of precision.
This, my friends, is a beautiful day.
I thank my God for the wonderful gift of today.