1. Finding a gold pen in among the work-a-day blacks and blues and reds.
2. Seeing two sacks of envelopes -- packed by and labelled by me -- being carried out of the building by the postman.
3. In a fit of spring cleaning, I have bought a new file. I come down on my system like the Assyrian, slashing and hacking as I go, wondering why I kept this, shredding that and tearing stamps off the other. When the job is done, everything I own is in alpha order -- I'm hoping this will mean no more wondering if my P45 is under 'tax' or 'work' or in the mysterious folder labelled gardening, because obviously now it can only be under 'P'. There are some worries -- will I look for a poem by my grandmother to mark my confirmation under G, P or C? My mantra from now on is: 'Got to trust the system.'