Ten unexpected joys

1. Deer. Rainy afternoon and reluctant start to walk, but enthusiasm whipped up by crunching leaves and the dog’s mad gratitude. Two hazy shapes in the meadow were quickly joined by two more, closer, leaping from the path ahead into the field. A rare treat to see deer before the dog, so a glimpse of a fifth had me beaming through the raindrops. The hound then hurtled back and forth, mad on the fresh scent, as her discrete onlookers watched her calmly from a distance, unruffled by their evidently incompetent canine pursuer.
2. The little lass started saying “Dad”. After a day's amusing, challenging, singing, feeding, bathing, cuddling and generally being her slave, it can seem like a fairly bitter irony that she grins and shouts Dad. But ho hum, "Mum" will come.  
3. The migrating geese over the house reminded me that a goose says ‘honk’, vital information for my farmyard narrations. 
4. I found an old and beautiful Mercedes Prima typewriter at the junk shop. It works! Makes me want to write poetry. My deep and abiding respect for anyone who can type a neat document on one of those things. If you haven't, you should try.
5. The women at the crèche positively gushed about what a good time the lass had had – perhaps her first real smiles as they played together? They were pleased as punch to see her progress, and me to see their involvement.
6. Getting down off the bed training. If placed close to the edge, back to the descent, she has cottoned on to the backwards shuffle and slow slide to the floor. Pride and elation all round. Put her in the middle of the bed, however, and she is all at sea, backcrawling a few paces, then sitting up to look, and finally tumbling headfirst off the bed into my arms. Again, it will come.
7. A white owl swooped over the car as we drove into the yard last night, its partner screeching from behind the house.  I often used to see a white owl in Sam’s wood, and took it as a good omen.
8. Going to the market reminded me how friendly and delightful people are.
9. The baby fixed the mouse pad on my laptop. It had been broken these last 4 years, and one rambling clamber had it working again.
10. Dance class this morning. Eva was positively rapt, gazing at the dancer (who is delightful and graceful) with wonder, clutching her hands as she drank in every movement and scuttling after her whenever I let go. A bit of audience participation when she crawled into the middle of the dance floor and swayed around in delight as the dancer swirled around her.