The year's at the spring,
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in his Heaven -
All's right with the world! (Robert Browning)

It's all right in my world, anyway. I had a wonderful walk on the Downs with Dog this morning. No coat, no dog fights, no mad woman - just me, Dog and skylarks, blue skies, fluffy clouds and sparkly sea.

Not sure about the rest of the world though. I made the mistake of watching the news last night - never a good idea when I'm feeling a bit down and fragile. I cried when Shannon Matthews was found, safe and well. Last night I cried again - but with pity for a child brought up in a complicated family headed by a mother who bears more than a passing resemblance to Waynetta Slob. Then there was the Diana inquest, in which I learned that the most intimate details of her life had been made public in an effort to quell conspiracy theories. What kind of world do we now live in when the privacy and dignity of people are sacrificed as a sop to the crazies? Then the news that the Olympic torch had been extinguished. Well, my Olympic spirit got a bit of a soaking when the Iron Curtain robots and propaganda dominated the games, it flickered briefly to applaud the likes of Torvill and Dean and Sally Gunnell and went out completely when swamped by wave after wave of drug allegations.

It's no good - I need a cheery view of the world. And it doesn't get much cheerier than The Carpenters.


That's better.