Day 1: Tentative

Inspired by my excellent friend Jude, this is where I will keep a record of the good stuff - the things that make life worth living.  Some will be big, but most will be small - no repetition, no plurals (self-imposed rules that I make to break). 

So - today.  I went into St Albans Abbey.  I'm not religious, but there's something about sacred spaces that does it for me.  Serene, calm, solid.  Smell of candlewax and dusty hassocks.  All those prayers and music, soaking into the stones over the centuries.  I press my ears to the walls, hoping to hear ancient whispers.  On some of the pillars there are crude scratches - medieval noughts and crosses to while away a tedious sermon?  I light a candle and weep gratuitously.  Breathe.

There's a man outside the Abbey.  He's not happy about squirrels.  'Squirrels are bastards' he loudly informs his girlfriend.  'They spread AIDS'.  He catches my eye and clarifies.  'Squirrel AIDS'.  Breathe.

Today is Guy Fawkes Night (or The Colour Thief, for those of you in Southwark...).  I actually saw some proper fireworks.  I've lived in St Albans for seven years and this is the first time I've made it to the display in Verulam park.  Fireworks have improved exponentially since I was a kid.  Used to be a pretty basic colour way - silver, gold, red, green.  Today we got pink.  Proper Barbie pink.  And purple.  And orange.  Sparkles within sparkles.  Slow-mo drifty descents.  And a finale galaxy of glowing red, green and silver balls, impossibly suspended like a Disney wish.  Breathe.