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:
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…