Laugh a Little, Laugh a Lot

When did life get so complicated? Somewhere along the line, spontaneous laughter became a scarce commodity in life. Was it the bills, the decisions, the stress, the boredom? Didn't we do that much more when we were kids? Is it because, as we get older, we become so cerebral that it takes more to make us laugh? Is it the sophistication of the new millenium? After all, what's healthier than a good, rolling-on-the-floor, tears-streaming-down-your-face belly laugh? Especially over nothing. I don't think we should be able to count on the fingers of only one hand how many of those we've had in the last year. Let's back life up a bit and see if we can't find our gleeful abandon...(I'll bet you've already cracked a smile just looking at the still picture below)...press play and really enjoy yourself.

Creative Juices

Recently, I spent a couple afternoons helping a friend plan and create decorations for a cake table. She found online a great set of plastic cake tiers that can be dismantled and rearranged in various heights. The best part of this set is that the upright tubes are hollow, and absolutely screaming for decoration. Needless to say, this called for a shopping trip and we came home laden with tasteful silk flowers, ribbons, florist wire, miniature lights, battery-operated votives, and yards of tulle. Although the final set up will be determined later, we filled the tubes with simple bits of design and played around with different arrangements (in between the hot tub and lunch, of course).

I also surprised this same friend with a photo album called “Grandma’s Brag Book.” All she has to do is just add pictures of little Emma.

Life Is a Dance...of One Sort or Another

I get up each morning, stumble to the bathroom, don my exercise clothes, and head downstairs to begin the day; the first interlude of a day-long dance. Mom and I negotiate her pills, coffee and toast, and support socks and then sidestep my to-do list around her needs and preferences for the day. A call from the school changes the steps to include another dancer and when Don comes home the dance changes again. Sometimes it is a slow, serious sway of memorized steps that is sleepy or listless, comforting or sad, and at other times it's an impromptu jig that energizes, conspires, or exudes laughter. Lately it has gone from random, unfamiliar movements to a frail ballet that the dancers dread. Yet, it is our dance and we struggle to keep time, do our best, and laugh along the way. Like many dances, it is a reflection of the varied tunes of life. Settle in for Lordi Jinak's version of the origin of Irish dancing. It's good to laugh at ourselves now and again.