I wish you a full life of the everyday

It's not often that I have Big Picture thoughts while I'm slicing mushrooms. Life's too short to stuff a mushroom, or so Shirley Conran would have it, but slicing them... well, that's a different story.

I was concentrating on not chopping off my finger, watching the blade slice through that springy flesh, thinking about the boring Boscaiola sauce I was making. The kitchen window was open and I could feel a light breeze stirring those bits of hair that never quite manage to stay in my ponytail arrangement. Birds were doing what they do best, with a tweet/squawk/chirp orchestra in full swing outside.

The Builder was in the garage, cleaning up the mountain of sawdust he'd created whilst making wooden tomahawks for the school fete. The boys were in another room, bickering over the Wii. Or the sofa. Or something. They could Bicker for Australia at the moment, those two.

Just a Monday evening.

Just the everyday stuff.

The stuff we tend to forget about in our memoirs. The stuff we tend to overlook in our never-ending quest for 'special'.

I think we should take the everyday stuff and hold it tight. This is the living. I know people climb mountains, swim oceans and run marathons to feel alive. But this is it. The living. The everyday stuff that constitutes 98 per cent of our lives.

I have a friend who would give a hell of a lot tonight to be doing something everyday. She would no doubt love to be at home, listening to everyday noises, thinking everyday thoughts. She is the kind of person who understands the joy of contentment. She would be willing to submerge herself in the everyday.

Instead, she is in a hospital bed, fighting an extraordinary battle.

In the dying light of the afternoon, with my mushrooms sliced and my children still bickering, I went out into my garden and took this photo. A beautiful flower bathed in golden sunlight - with a totem tennis pole in the background.

Finding the special in the everyday.

On my friend's behalf, I challenge you to do the same. Yes, children drive us mad. Yes, washing up is boring. Yes, we have too much to do and too little time.

But tomorrow, find the positives. Yes, even in the bickering (a challenge of Mt Everest proportions if ever there were one).

I wish you a full life of the everyday.