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Sunday, May 19, 2013


This is not about the Fox TV series, so if you tuned in here hoping for singing and dancing, there will be none of that.  This is real life.

My husband, who is a grown-up little boy discovered a new game. He has to help some creatures build a rocket, achieve escape velocity and orbit a spacecraft around a planet.  It's not as easy as it sounds.  Rocket Science is a real and difficult science.  I know because my dad, way back in the 70's had a TI calculator and he would hand it to me to shut me up after loading up a "game" where you had to calculate the amount of fuel it would take to achieve orbit around the moon and then safely land the craft, then lift off and start a trajectory home.  It was an excellent lesson in husbanding your resources.

My husband, at the age of 43 is just now learning this lesson.  Well, let me be honest, he's not really learned it yet, but I have faith that he will.  I've put in my two cents worth regarding gyroscopes and types of fuel and payload, etc., to no avail.  He will learn this on his own.  And even though I need him to be doing things around the house this morning, I am not saying a word about his sitting there playing this game.


Because the man is having more fun than is allowed under the Obama Administration in just building the rockets and watching his test pilots die.  He's like some evil, mad scientist, cackling with utter glee every time one of his rockets crash.  To be honest, I'm pretty sure that just one more and he will actually sit back, cackle, then clap his hands.  It's a thing of beauty to watch.  He's had a tough week, and then there is the day in and day out torture of living with me he has to endure.  But, he signed on for that.

Me?  I experience glee walking barefoot in the grass. (If my podiatrist is reading this, I am really standing still in the grass, really.)  I love being out amongst my plants.  I'm even creating an entire part of my backyard so I can sit in my flora and do my first favorite thing, read.  If I feel like it, I may even knit.  And then, my life will be complete.  Utter glee is reached upon riding my bike anywhere.  There is a joy in riding a motorcycle that cannot be experienced anywhere else.  I don't remember liking riding horses half as much as I do my motorcycle.  Mainly because I don't have to groom the horse or clean the tackle after a ride. I'm lazy that way.

Life should be lived with joy, with glee.  Why are we told that misery is supposed to be our natural state and that it is only clawing our way from our misery that we achieve anything and then only for other people, not for ourselves.  What an obscene vision of life that is.  I will live my life with such joy in a world that has little use for it.  Why?  Because I love being alive.  I love living.  I love living for ME and no one else.  My soul is not tortured, nor has it ever been.  There are things that bother me, but nothing that makes me miserable.  I don't allow it.  Some of my happiest moments have been spent troubleshooting a problem so that I do not have to worry and wallow in self-pity, usually brought on by things I have done.

We need to teach our children to enjoy life and live without fear.  Life is to be enjoyed.  Just like the grown man sitting next to me, giggling, because of the look on his test-pilot's face.  Glee.  Utter glee.

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