Life is full of little pleasures – kit Kats, sunny afternoons, whiskers on puppies – that kind of thing.
Reading the news is one of mine, not for all the death, crime and destruction though, for all the lovely, little mad stories that are either funny or heart-warming or a little bit of both.
I’ve been spoiled for choice lately.
On Tuesday I read about great-grandma Betty Barnes who collapsed at her favourite bingo club only to be saved by first-aider Ken Norton who kept her right till the paramedics stepped in.
“He deserves a bag of gold,” said Betty, 73.
That’s proper appreciation – a bag of gold no less, though I fear Mr Norton might have a job explaining where it came from to the bank.
Then for the Chipper page last week we had the Little Acorns Day Nursery in Washington and their annual Hawaiian day.
Every year the tots dress up and have a little barbecue and do some Hula dancing while the staff hide inflatable monkeys and parrots in the trees – all in the hope of encouraging a fine summer.
I swear, if the whole country had a few more Hawaiian days then there’d be a lot less hassle, who could be bothered with road rage when there’s grass skirts all around?
But my number one favourite story this week has been Doreen and Fred Smith winning £2.4million on the National Lottery.
The Washington couple, who look exactly like great-grandparents should, have been playing since 1994 with numbers chosen from family birth dates.
Despite hip and knee replacements, Mrs Smith still managed to dance “like Michael Flatley” when she found out.
And how are they going to celebrate? With a new bungalow as former care worker Doreen finds it hard to get around due to her health problems and they are thinking about a holiday home in Benidorm.
After a lifetime of being sensible with the pennies they’re sticking with what they know and plan to use the money to take care of their large family.
It’s easy to think that all news is bad news but that’s often just not the case.
Let Rupert Murdoch clog up the front pages while I enjoy the stories further back – preferably while eating a kit Kat.