It's All About the Little Things

I've been struggling for a few days, trying to decide what to write about for this week's blog. It's not that I haven't been busy, or that I've put my projects and pursuit of fabulousness on the back burner - that's not it at all! In fact, I've rarely been busier! I think it's that I have so many things going on, a lot of which require a great deal of energy, that I am having difficulty putting it all into words.

And then there are some things that I'm still struggling to define my feelings about.

So in the meantime, I'm going to leave you with a funny anecdote from Labor Day weekend.

Several weeks ago, I decided that I was going to start my holiday weekend a little early, and drive out on Friday to visit my parents, who live a little over an hour away. I knew that Mom would be at work for part of the time, but Dad is retired, and this girl never passes up a chance to hang out with her Daddy! I had some vaguely nebulous ideas about what we'd do, centering around creating furniture for Georgia (so that she'd stop climbing my armchairs), but mostly was just looking for an excuse to spend time with the ones I love.

Sometime after lunch and a jaunt in Dad's garden to pick tomatoes and "albino" cucumbers, we settled onto the porch swing that has hung on the deck since I was a teenager. Surrounded by sunshine, blooming flowers in every color, and sleeping cats, it seemed like a little slice of heaven as we rocked and chatted.

Pearl cucumbers from Dad's garden. They kind of looked
like giant weevils, but were actually quite delicious!

Then there was a creak. And then a groan. And then we were tipped backward to face the sky.

Then the back of the porch swing gave way, and I saw my dad's legs fly up over his head!

I thought I was hanging on, but once Dad's counterweight was gone, the swing decided to spit me out as well. I somehow flipped so that my head was under the swing and my feet were on the deck railing.

Once we could both catch our breath and determined that there were no major injuries that required First Aid or a doctor, we started laughing and couldn't stop. Through gasps of merriment, I kept insisting that it wasn't funny, but Dad was adamant that it was as he shook with laughter. Even recounting it to Mom hours later, we couldn't control ourselves and had tears streaming down our faces in the retelling.

I'm pretty sure she thought we'd knocked a few screws loose.

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