I hope you dance

The other day someone said to me, "you have too much time on your hands", after seeing my blog with the pigs dressed up.  I laughed to myself but thought, no I don't, I have just the right amount of time on my hands.  I get my chores done, I spend time with my animals and I have time to blog, go for a walk with James or watch something on Netflix.  My days are near perfect, really.  Twenty four hours seems just about right. 

James asked me the other day, "do you remember being happy as a little kid".  I told him yes, I think I've always been happy.  Blessed is definitely a word I would use to describe my life. 

I think most of you have heard this song, I Hope You Dance, by Lee Ann Womack.   If you don't know it, here are the lyrics. 


I'd like to think I choose to dance.  Remember my recent blog, Life's short, buy the pony?  That's what I'm talking about.  To me the pony or the dance is filling my days with what I love. 

Today we went to the funeral of our friend and neighbor.  We just got to know Don this past year.  One day last week he went out to hunt with some friends.  Later his friends found him slumped over in his deer stand.  He died that evening.  Hunting was one of the things Don loved.  I learned today after the funeral that his family had recently built some stairs up to his deer stand so it would be easier for him to climb into.  He called them, "the stairway to heaven".   How fitting, don't you think?  Hunting was one of Don's dances.   In the short time I knew him I could see he was a positive, happy man who did what he loved to do.

My Pop Pop is just that kind of man.  He's 99 years old and still one of the people I most want to be like.  I told James the other day before I began building my cow shed, "I want to keep going and going with projects just like Pop Pop".  I want to always have plans and dreams for the future.

My dances may not be pretty but I'm dancing.  Dance on, Don.