i bought a loaf of fruit bread the other day: sour dough with whole figs and dates studded through, so that when you cut into it, you sometimes got a whole cross-section of succulent fig in your slice. also the clever bakers had thrown a handful of mixed seeds and nuts into the bottom of the baking tin before filling it with dough, so the loaf came with a crunchy base of sunflower seeds and almonds.

this morning i made myself a pot of bush tea, cut myself a slice of magic fruit bread and crumbled some marinated fetta over it. seven minutes under the grill, the cheese was bubbling and the bread golden with the oily cheese marinade. it was a great start to the day.

which only got better because: i had one of those phone conversations with nello where you start talking and then suddenly it’s two hours later; i got a cheque in the mail for a job that isn’t even over yet; walking home from cashing said cheque later in the afternoon, i got rained on very heavily by something that went from light drizzle to blinding torrential downpour in about forty seconds.

i felt cold hard raindrops indenting my head and shoulders.
i felt happy to be alive.