Half the joy of life is in little things taken on the run...

 but let us keep our hearts young and our eyes open that nothing worth our while shall escape us.

My thought for the day, about little things being important - well, actually, not MY thought, but Victor Cherbuliez's - that extraordinarily well-known French novelist of the nineteenth century that you've never heard of. (I speak for myself, of course)  I'm embarrassed, he has no fewer than 554 references on Amazon.

He is described as a 'voluminous and successful writer of fiction.' (Victor Cherbuliez was voluminous? Poor fellow.)


See? That absurd thought was another little thing that gave me joy.


The little things thought came to me this morning as I opened my In-Box to find a message from 'Anonymous.' That always makes my heart sink. A poison pen e-mail? 

No. It was a perfectly charming post from someone who had read my blogpost Izzy, Wizzy, let's get busy, dated January 13th, and shared exactly my childhood experiences about stamping to a Noddy song!


Little things please little minds? How very DARE you!


This is what I think (along with Robert Brault, American tenor): 'Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realise they were big things.'


Thank you Anonymous, whoever you are.