I’m so ridiculously, incandescently happy at the moment, for a variety of brilliant reasons.

As many of you know, this isn’t always the case for me. That’s why, when I am feeling happy, I tend to shout it from the rooftops. Sing it from the trees.
I’ve been trying to think of books that encapsulate this feeling, but all I can think of is moments. When Elizabeth finally accepts Darcy. When Jem realises that, yes, actually, she does love Ralph. When Sarah Burton realises she’s got the job. Absolute happiness is incredibly difficult to describe, harder still in prose I think than poetry, because this glow is something that fits better into stanzas than paragraphs.

Normally I’d turn to my old faithful John Donne for this, but I’ve found this by Christina Rossetti, that seems to fit my mood fairly well. Also, it’s my birthday next week so the title is relevant, even if the subject matter isn’t.