Just any Day will do.

There is a host of days, official days, that go unnoticed for their worth of celebrating. 

For instance, did you know that there is a National Nutella Day? 

Everyone in most schools will fondly refer to Wildlife Wednesday.

There is a Childrens Day in June. That threw me a spoon. 

Today, January 23, is

National Handwriting Day

National Pie Day (and no not 3.14 Pi, real Pie, the pumpkin kind) 

and

Measure Your Feet Day.

Now why? Why is it the official day to measure your feet? Because there should be at least one day a day year where your small pigs and miniature fingers get recognized for their length and how important that is. Now I have found myself with the ravaged remains of a Chocolate Haupia Cream Pie sitting perched, legs crossed, measuring time with forkfuls of pie and spotify tracks trying to just truly appreciate this moment and the fact that today is for pie, and for me today is for this pie. I am celebrating the work and what I would call love, what others call sugar, that went into this slice of heaven. So I have another proposal (as usual) a proposal, a toast, an idea, that we begin every day with the intent to celebrate one element of this life. 

Beginning with Mother Teresa Thursday. (Hear hear comes roaring out from behind the silken curtains, popcorn is thrown joyously into the air in the peanut gallery, and a few sparkling ciders are broken out just to further toast Mother Teresa and her day. Thursday.) 

We can do one act of service, celebrate the goodness in not walking away, and pretend we all wear matronly veils and try to truly see the true beauty of those all around us. 

(one more cheer? Okay, alright, thank you, thank you. I'll take my bows now) 

Hawaii is doing well.

I went on a swim the other morning, one of those particular ones that get you lost in the depths. Spilling over coral down to sandy pits beneath and spinning through the water it was perffaith. (It's welsh and would translate into something relatively close to perfect). But the best part was that this swim began a new year, a new season, a new semester and a slightly new corner for me to look out on. Upwards and forwards, talleyho! And for some reason this blonde surfer kept chasing me through the waters, strange. But exciting, then I remembered his name is Dillon and that he can hold his breath longer than I can and so I should stop kidding myself that I was going to win the race. But having a friend there in the ocean, appreciating the Pacific and aquaponics. I swallowed some water, deep, salty ocean water. Tasty. Mouth puckering. And it made me cough, then sputter and then snort. Everyone needs a good snort of salt water, it really clears the sinuses. Like hot sauce clears your throat when you naively lick it off your fingers when it spills out. Other things happen when you're out there, you can hear this crackling, bubbling sound. As if a teeny Mr. Magorium was jumping up and down on packing wrap, tapping out an eternity of snap, crackles and pops. This and tortillas. I'll always love tortillas. That's what defines a day to remember.