Skipping

I used to love to skip when I was a kid.   It tires me to skip now.   I hate getting older.  And I hate thinking that at my age which is too young to think of boring tedious topics that involve whining about age.

I do find it fascinating how fast children grow up.     Why did it seem to take forever?   

And from that under 10 perspective, it was amazing how old I thought people were when they were over 40!   Probably thought that for over 30.   

I always thought my older cousins were ‘cool’.    Strangely alien, but cool.   

I was the youngest of 14 cousins on my mother’s side of the family.    I adored every cousin!     I didn’t get to see them much – we were scattered to the winds and lived in many different states.

Skipping; casually moving along but in a peppy manner…     Like the thoughts in my head right now.    The online definers give the following in response to the search to define skipping:

To move by hopping on one foot and then the other. To leap lightly about.

Ah, to leap about lightly!  Sounds fun.

Googling for a quote to insert, I stumble upon this ditty from the Scottish dramatist James Matthew Barry:

“When the first baby laughed for the first time, the laugh broke into a thousand pieces and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies.”

   

    

I must skip off now, I have my first training class for the Adult Literacy / Reading Initiative.   ta ta for now!   See you on the morrow…