I had a lot of them today and they were mostly exhausting, but

1. The train manager on the train to Euston told us what platform we'd come in to (making it clear that there might be a last-minute change!), what side the doors would open on, how to get to the Underground and even buses and taxis. Since it's a station I know well, I could verify that everything he was saying was the right amount and kind of information that would've helped me if I hadn't known that and needed to.

2. I'm not sure this is what was going on because it might not have been working that way but... I think that there was a new feature over the two accessible toilet doors in Euston: there were big lights over the doors, one was red and one was green, so I assumed this meant one was locked and one is open. Like I said my experience made this kinda confusing but it at least made me think it'd be a really good idea! At the moment I have to look for a teeny circle near the lock/handle of the door and determine whether it's white or red. Which, in dim locations like you get at Euston, can be surprisingly difficult! And I feel like an idiot trying my key in a locked door and I don't like to stress out the occupant -- I at least find it stressful when I'm in there and hear someone trying the door, suddenly unsure that I locked it or that it has stayed locked. If a big red or green light over the door could be relied on and rolled out, that'd be great.

Mom and Dad told me tonight about two friends of my brother's, and one of them's mom who was the school nurse at the time so knows all of us as well as being the mom of his friend, who she's run into lately who told her they always remember Chris at this time of year.

Two of the three apparently said especially that it was twenty years this year, and my mom was surprised that they remembered that specifically. But I have a couple friends about my age who had schoolfriends die when they were in school or soon after, and they certainly remember the person and how long it's been. We are lucky enough to live in an age when child/young person death is rare enough to stand out.

The school nurse mom even told my mom about how her daughter's kids know about him because the daughter has a Christmas ornament with a photo of my brother on it which my parents had made and handed out to people the Christmas after (I got one too, in my terrible flat in West Didsbury, but I never really wanted it and lost it along the way). The kids know about all the ornaments on their tree so they know this one is for "Mom's friend who died a long time ago." I love that.

On a kinda rough day, before two days in London for work that I'm dreading, this was a nice moment.

Their mom and my brother had been friends since kindergarten, when she was one of the girls who called him Kissyfur after a cartoon of that time, and who he used to entertain by doing stuff like pretending not to notice when the girls put snow in his hat and he put it on anyway so they could all laugh.

She sang at his funeral, which is such a gift to be able to offer a peer, when you're only twenty-one.

angelofthenorth gave me my birthday presents today! I thanked her and said I was surprised because it's not my birthday yet. But V and I always have a joint party - after their birthday and before mine - and that's today.

She sensibly pointed out that they won't see me for my birthday, as I'll be off doing family xmas things by then.

So, yeah, why not, today's my birthday.

You know you had a bad day when the next day angelofthenorth brings you coffee as soon as she gets home, saying "well your blog post from yesterday made me think you'd need it!"

I actually had a much better day at work today: no meetings to speak of and I even started messing around with the slides for the presentation I have to give on Tuesday. Plus, Tuesday turns out to be the London staff's Christmas lunch and I can go to Wahaca (yes, that's how they spell it) with them, they're all excited about Taco Tuesday.

I was able to slip away from work early enough to walk Teddy before D and I went to see Pillion, which was well-acted and horny (even in the audio description!) and had some genuine funny moments but is a little too Fifty Shades of Gay in that its basic message that being a dom makes you a dickhead who is incapable of healthy relationships. But I had fun and I'm glad we had time for a pint in the twinkly outdoors before coming home to delicious homemade stew and dumplings.

And before I'd finished eating, angelofthenorth offered cinnamon tea and when I made interested noises brought me some in the clear glass mug with the flower petals between its two walls which V bought in the Hebridean Tea Store, and then D asked if anyone wants a mince pie, so I had my first mince pie of the season with the perfect tea pairing for it.

Before bed I unloaded the dishwasher so V could load it up again, emptied the food waste bin, locked the doors, turned off the little plant lights, and changed my bedding. How nice to be in such a functional house, doing my little bit to reset, maintain, upkeep.

All this made me think of Kurt Vonnegut saying:

My uncle Alex Vonnegut, a Harvard-educated life insurance salesman taught me something very important.

He said that when things were really going well, we should be sure to NOTICE it. He was talking about simple occasions, not great victories: maybe drinking lemonade on a hot afternoon in the shade, or smelling the aroma of a nearby bakery; or fishing, and not caring if we catch anything or not, or hearing somebody all alone playing a piano really well in the house next door.

Uncle Alex urged me to say this out loud during such epiphanies: "If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is."

So I do the same now, and so do my kids and grandkids. And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, "If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is."