Magic Moments

Great times, by their nature, are few and far between. I’m currently experiencing what I’ve seen called a ‘happiness hangover’. It’s a sorrowful melancholy of longing for the good times to return. We can’t always be having a great time, otherwise that would be the norm. This period of ennui does serve a purpose. It helps you treasure what you enjoyed and identify what makes you happy. This weekend made me happy.

It started with a shopping trip. The plan was to get visors for a cheap joke about golf. We ended up with an entire outfit. It was fun to feel confident enough to dress up. We took our outfits up a literal mountain to be welcomed into the lovely home of two friends.

Everyone will admit the conversation devolved quickly. Bobbing for apples, storing coins in a special sock and eating mars bars while sprinting is a bad description of what we talked about. Soon, it was time to traverse back down the mountain, this time by taxi. The conversation quickly matured to an incongruously sober political discussion which dissipated as quickly as it began with our arrival at mini golf.

Golf itself was a drunken blur. I remember being assaulted for being tired, dildos, Colm Meaney and some truly terrible attempts at mini golf. The winner was deserved, the loser was not.

Back to wholesomeness.

The next day was world clean up day. A huge turnout with the Ouseburn trust ensure over 20 bags of rubbish were amassed from the valley. The trust are nice people. They genuinely care about this place and these people.

Morris dancing followed. I don’t know why. The Hokey Cokey with girl scouts on the Quayside. I don’t know why. Quick nap. Then back out for lunch with more friends before heading to St James’ Park with the knowledge our day would be thoroughly ruined. Luckily, it was so bad it was good, and the day remained intact and unruined.

I could barely keep my eyes open when I got home.

Sunday was a new day and a new location. A beautiful orchard tucked away in the grounds of a cemetery. It was a lovely morning. The people were excellent. The orchard was charming. As we worked, a tune was whistled into the Orchard from a resident of a nearby house. We didn’t know what the tune was at the time.

I now know it was Magic Moments by Perry Como.

Perhaps it’s pretentious to call it poetic but I am pretentious, and it is poetic. The weekend was filled with magic moments. The happiness hangover is a reminder of the magic moments I lived but I can’t wait to experience the next.