Ridiculously Happy

I am quite ridiculously happy. 

It all began when I got out of the shower this morning, got dressed, and realized that the figure hiding under my covers was not Mama at all, but my lovely friend, Abigail! :D She and her brother BJ had driven up two hours to come to church and they surprised us all. Most of us were still asleep. I didn't know what to do with finding one of my best friends peeping at me from under my covers, but I was delighted. Never one to be caught impolite, I gave her a hug, smiled and said, "Hi! How are you doing?" which sent her off into a gale of giggles, much as if I'd asked her to scoot over so we could all play cards, or asked her whether she'd like a drink. :D The art of hostessing, even dripping wet and in one's night-gown will not find me lacking. ;) Yes. It is not every week one gets an impromptu Pouncing sort of Visit from a soul-sister! :)

That began my happiness. 

Last summer on the Jamestown-Scotland Ferry...suitably wind-blown, eh?

I got to drive her "perfectly corking" compact car to Food Lion and buy plates for church with Abigail as a passenger, gripping the seat-arm and praying we wouldn't crash. ;) (by-the-by, it was my first time driving a small car. I've only ever driven our speedometer-less 15-passenger, or Dad's huge diesel truck! :P)

Then we had church (though I didn't sit next to Abigail :( ) and ate lunch together.

Then we took a quiet, violet-spangled walk and robbed someone's crab traps that they had set in the swamp.

My happiness had a climax at Dairy Queen with an Oreo Brownie Sundae and smashing good company.

Then we said good-bye.

That was sad, of course, but then again, I hadn't expected to see Abigail till I went down to drive to a retreat with her in mid-April, so one can't quarrel with an extra short visit! :) And to insure that I retained my happiness, Abigail had brought me a book to read: Something Fresh by P.G. Wodehouse--long reputed to be side-achingly hilarious and long on my To Read list.

That restored me to happiness. So much so that I laughed like a loon by myself on the back porch and burned the hot-dogs I was supposed to be cooking for dinner. The rest of the family didn't appreciate that over-much, but who can keep an eye on a grill when there is a fop like The Hon. Frederick Threepwood to be had! :)

"Oh dash it!" said the Hon. Freddie. And after a moment's pause, 'And I was feeling so dashed happy!"

I imagine him sounding crizackly like Edmund Sparkler of Little Dorrit. But I digress. I am exquisitely happy with no forseeable end to that happiness this evening. After all, it was just boosted by seeing a video of a young lad of 15 astonishing a cocky Michael Buble with his singing voice, and it will be continued by watching Tin-Tin which Daniel just rented, and which I will do a review of ASAP. :)

Thank you, Jesus, for this smashing day!