Also: wine

There is a lovely scene in the just-about-perfect film Manhattan, where Woody Allen is lying on a couch, old-fashioned dictaphone in hand, making a list of the things that make his life worth living. Somewhat hilariously he doesn't mention his child but instead the monologue goes like this:

"Well, all right, why is life worth living? That's a very good question. Well, there are certain things I guess that make it worthwhile. Uh, like what? Okay. Um, for me... oh, I would say... what, Groucho Marx, to name one thing... and Willie Mays, and... the second movement of the Jupiter Symphony, and... Louie Armstrong's recording of 'Potatohead Blues'... Swedish movies, naturally... 'Sentimental Education' by Flaubert... Marlon Brando, Frank Sinatra... those incredible apples and pears by Cezanne... the crabs at Sam Wo's... Tracy's face..."

It's a great moment in the movie and I've always found it very comforting: at moments when I get down about the pointlessness of it all I do like to recall this scene and remind myself that it's fine, just fine, to pin my happiness on silly things like books and movies and cute clothes and something stupid on TV and so on... kind of(?). 

I mention this now because it occurred to me today, for various reasons, that consuming cider and chips on a Sunday afternoon in the sun, talking shit with one of my favourite people in the entire world would be right up there on my own hypothetical Things That Make Kate's Life Worth Living list.... albeit obviously well down below the music of Belle and Sebastian, the novels of Raymond Chandler, the films of Woody Allen, season five of The Bachelor - I could go on...