defrost
I wasn't sure it was her. Mariella Frostrup, the agony aunt in the Sunday Observer Magazine, who is noted for her wise relationship advices, her sarcastic tone and impishness of making fun of troubled spirits in her column, is actually talking about happiness in last week's Sunday newspapers. Even stranger still was that she was shown cuddled up with her husband in the Highlands with a real happy smile, the kind that wipes out the cynicism. I've seen her in other pictures, single, looking smart and introspective, or on holidays on some tropical island. This was quite different; Frostrup is pregnant and happy. In fact, one of her hands is placed on the tummy. I understand there's nothing more blissful than expecting the arrival of a baby, but this leaves me wondering do we need a new life to teach us about happiness and the joy of giving? And do we need someone else to teach us how to be happy? It's true that helping people solve relationship problems is a way to make them happy, and I have no problem with that. But instructing us readers to 'enjoy the micro-moments... your baby's smile, a friend's fortune, the first scent of spring, church bells on a sunny Sunday morning, kindness from a stranger', etc. is starting to make me miserable.