Slightly Overcooked Fish Fingers

Sometimes we want to talk about the wonderful things in our life. Sometimes we can't help but talk about the awful things.

Sometimes we share pictures of our beautiful children/pets/flowers and sometimes we share a picture of a broken gate/ankle/life.

Some days we want to moan because we are finding things more tough than usual and some days we want to share the joy of a spider on its web or a baby's first smile or a welcome gift. Or maybe we just love the way the sun shines through a plastic carrier bag. Other days, carrier bags in the wrong place are the bane of our life.

I have days when almost everything seems crap. I have days when almost everything is bearable. I have days when I am sure I could make some people insanely jealous by the way I present my world, and other days where people probably pity me.

Mostly though my life is reasonable and like many other people it is a mix of super stuff and total hideous awfulness, combined with a majority of mundanity.

Some days, like today, the mix is such a good balance that I can smile and say, 'That's just life.'

The photo is of the beautiful view (depending on where you stand!) we have when we get to the end of our walk, up the hill from our house. The farmer has had an old footpath cleared and this means that a disused piggery (Is that the right word?) has been dismantled and all the rubbish piled up. (Although... there is a lot of stuff there that I struggle to see how it is connected to pigs...)
We plodded home slowly and our daughter told us the time repeatedly: 'Three o'clock! Six o'clock! Two o'clock!' Wrong every time. But that's dandelion clocks for you.

It's warm. Very warm. And we're all flagging. All except my husband who has gone for his second surf of the day, before it gets dark... I've spent most of the day sat at a laptop so we're going to be on very different levels tonight!

So I've settled for fish fingers to fill youngest's belly - as much as it needs filling in this heat - and to keep the teens going for a couple more hours. But because it is such a boring thing to cook, I've wandered off and overcooked them slightly. But it's one of those days where I think, 'So what? Everyone seems happy enough.' And, let's face it, we're hardly the Waltons.

More days where the crap is bearable and the little things don't matter, please.