I wish to announce a pending secession from Mudville: the recently (not only fixed but) improved gate and the area around it have been inspected and are proving, I am delighted to report, certifiably smoothly functional AND gaslight-proof, which is no small feat; the distinctly positive feeling hovering around there looks a helluva lot like joy---triumphant, resurrected & reborn joy, in fact. And if that holds up, the spot can clearly no longer be part of a territory going by the current estate name, unless that name comes to be used only, or at least primarily, ironically. (Wouldn't that be sweet.)
... joy, joy, joy; hallelujah ...
It's surprising & ironic, yet not at all odd & also just about perfect, that a joy pod has taken hold in that particular little piece of the planet. It's a combo, I reckon, of (a) the new accomplishment of repair with (amusingly off-kilter) improvement and (b) the ultimately unshaken old happy truth that's pulled off an impressive comeback survival after serious isolation and attack. This to say I've fixed my gate, and fixing the gate has joined with & bolstered something to leave me feeling good in more ways than I'd have thought it could.
... joy, joy, joy; halleloo---
You can't take my joy from me.
