What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
Of course the answer is always HAT!
So I was in Ashland last week.
And there was a hat store.
And the rule of Havi states that there is no such thing as passing a hat store and not going inside to try on all the hats. And then to acquire hats! Or a hat. Because HATS!
If Wile E. Coyote needed to trick me for whatever nefarious purposes, he would totally use an Acme hat shop.
With a crooked wooden sign: Ye Olde Acme Hat Shoppe. Meep, meep!
Anyway, there it was.
And there I was.
The hat was of the floppy sunhat variety. In the most outrageous, preposterous, crazed print possible. Somehow extra floppy. And fabulous. I had to have it.
But I didn’t know why.
Edit! Just realized: not last week! And now I have to pause (paws!) to have a fit, because that was two weeks ago and how did that even happen and why is time moving so quickly right now?
Until Toozday.
Two days ago I wrote this post asking for suggestions on how to turn up the visibility/volume on the Toy Shop at the Playground. How to remind people that they can buy stuff at the end of class.
And you guys gave me a ton of thoughtful suggestions, and I was feeling appreciative (yay for support!) and also increasingly unsettled about how complicated/ineffective my attempts to describe something can be.
So I was going to just take a break from thinking about it and let the perfect, simple solution emerge when Gaye (@itsapractice on Twitter) suggested a shopkeeper hat.
A hat! A shopkeeper hat.
Which is perfect because OHMYGOD LOOK I HAVE THIS HAT!
Well, I have many hats.
And I don’t mean that in a blippety-blah “I wear many hats” metaphorical sort of way. Real hats.
Between a) my inability to avoid hat stores, and b) having a Costumery full of hat goodness at the Playground, there are hats. They’re around.
But this hat. It’s so….
Hmm. BOLD was the word Rebecca used. Which I love because it’s so much more diplomatic than say, hideous. Or shocking. I think Cairene called it “dashing”.
This hat is pretty unapologetic about being a hat, if you know what I mean.
Really, its personality is so much bigger than mine that I may also be slightly afraid of it. But I appreciate the way it shouts to the world — in a very unusual accent — Hallllooooooooo! I am a Hat!
Which makes it perfect for my purposes. Shopkeeper! Hat!
So I tested it that very night.
But first I have to tell you more things about why this is so perfect.
- Wearing the shopkeeper’s hat means using costumes to solve problems. Which is already my favorite thing ever and something I do all the time.
- And once you’re wearing a costume, it’s all about playing. Playing is my thing! Did I mention that I run a Playground?
- In fact, play — along with groundedness, sovereignty, safety, freedom, delight and possibility — is one of the humming magical qualities at the core of Playground culture.
- So putting on a silly hat and making an announcement about when I’ll be wearing the silly hat is totally congruent with how I already work. Not an interruption. A flowing continuation.
- I already have a metaphor mouse thing about hats! Not a metaphor. It’s an acronym. But metaphor mouse gave it to me.
- A HAT is what I call a “sales page”. Because saying “sales page” makes me want to throw up. HAT stands for Havi’s Announcing a Thing.
- And then I write a HAT and decorate (instead of edit) the HAT, and that’s how I write sales pages even though I hate sales pages. Because they’re HATs!
- So this is just a physical version. I announce that the Toy Shop is open by putting on the silly hat. It’s like a real-life-performance version of the online thing.
- When I’m in costume, I can do anything. Like record a video of Flip-Its.
- But it’s not weird to get into costume, because we end each day at Rally (Rally!) with the evening Chicken. And a lot of us are already in costume for Chickening. So then I just tell people that I’m adding the hat.
- One of my superpowers is that I look good in any hat. Any. Hat. At. All. It’s probably my best superpower.
- I tend to thank my paternal grandmother for this one. She was born in Hungary, a good place for getting those dangerous “no, seriously watch out so you don’t slice yourself” cheekbones, which definitely help with extravagant hat-wearing.
- But my father also pulls off looking good in all hats, and he didn’t get the cheekbones, so who knows. It’s magic.
Also, as mentioned, I have the perfect hat for this!
So I tested the shopkeeper’s hat.
At the beginning of our Shiva Nata class on Toozday, I introduced everyone to the fabulous hat. They were really sweet and hardly laughed at all.
I asked them to remind me to put it on at the end of class, because wearing it means the Toy Shop is open for business. Wink!
Then we sang a sea shantey and did Shiva Nata to sea shanties while flailing about like madmen.
We also learned about epiphanies and discovered some absolutely fascinating patterns.
There was giggling. There were snacks. There were butt monsters. There were bubbles. It was awesome.
And at the end, I put on my Shopkeepers Hat and people took pictures (guys — send me the pictures!) and there was much rejoicing.
Also lots of people happily bought wonderful sparkly things from the Toy Shop. Like stone skipping card decks and Possibility Spray. So it totally worked. Yay.
Here’s what I’ve learned.
No matter what the question, the answer (for me) is always TRY A HAT.
And no matter how challenging it is for me to explain what I want or how I want it, if I remember to approach things with silliness, lightheartedness and play, the solution is there.
Basically, hats.
Or whatever your version of hats happens to be.
It’s always going to be better if I access the superpowers I already have instead of trying to Figure Out A System.
And the thing I need is probably already there. I’m probably tripping over it as we speak. And this is good.
Play! And comment zen for the communal comment blanket fort room.
What I would like: HATS!
Describe a hat, name a hat, wear a hat, invent a hat, pretend to give me a hat, pile hats on top of other hats. It’s a hat party!
Also, yays for Perfect Simple Solutions showing up.
What I would rather not have today: advice, analysis.
Thank you! And so much appreciation for all of your help this week. xox
Help me undo a spell. In a toy shop!
Alright my darlings.
Here’s the situation.
At the Playground, we have a Toy Shop.
The Toy Shop is beautiful and sparkly and everyone loves it. Everyone.
The Toy Shop is full of toys. And things that aren’t toys. All of which are for sale.
For example…
For example, we have:
Playground mugs.
And sets of gorgeous cards for stone skipping.
Lamps. Yoga blocks. Postcards. Notebooks. Jewelry. Wearable spirographs.
Butt-monsters and Pouncers and Yowls and other adorable creatures.
It has been scientifically proven that if you are feeling sad and you touch the butt of one of our butt-monsters, you will immediately feel better.
Magic wands. Bottles of Playground spray. Heidi’s potions for mixed-up emotions.
Pirate monkey meditation cushions.
And so many other special things.
Except.
Except for some reason it is still not entirely apparent that the Toy Shop is a store. Where you can buy things.
Invariably someone will ask me on the last day of Rally if there is any way at all that they can purchase a Playground mug to take home.
So I say: Uh yeah, they’re in the Toy Shop. With price tags on them!
This person is then delighted and goes home to drink tea.
Or if I mention at the end of a class that the things in the Toy Shop are for sale, everyone goes Ohboyohboy zooomygaaaaaaaaawwwd really? Yay!
And then they buy toys from the Toy Shop and they are happy.
So I’m looking at this. Here’s what I’ve got so far.
1. The name.
Unsurprisingly, the Toy Shop got its name from metaphor mouse.
And my definition of toys is probably wider than most people’s.
Maybe if we’d called is something boring like “The Gift Shop” or “The Store” or “The Souvenir Stand” or “The Place Where You Can Buy Stuff”, we wouldn’t be dealing with this.
But I like the name. For me, toy shop contains [+glee] [+excitement] [+childlike wonder] [+possibility] [+magic] [+anticipation] [+happiness].
But maybe it needs a subtitle for the sign? Okay!
2. So we could add onto the name…
Like:
The Toy Shop. How you can take the Playground home with you.
Or:
The Toy Shop. Hey, this stuff is actually for sale.
Kidding with that last one. But only slightly.
3. Speaking of signs…
What would a useful sign say?
We already have a sign above the door that says it’s the Toy Shop.
And we have a small framed sign inside the Toy Shop that says something like this:
How to get stuff from the Toy Shop! Talk to Havi after class.
Except it’s pretty small. Maybe too small? And the Toy Shop is pretty overwhelming and sparkly and packed with goodness, so maybe people don’t notice the sign?
And there is also a sign that explains that we take cash, checks or we can set up payment by Paypal.
But maybe we need different signs or bigger signs or different wording.
4. Price tags.
Much of the stuff in the Toy Shop is price-tagged.
But some things (like the pouncers or the butt-monsters) don’t really tag easily.
We do have giant chalkboard signs that say how much those cost. But still.
5. Displays.
Maybe more displays. Or posters?
Or pieces of information?
Hi. I am a pouncer. I look like this. I am cool because I pounce on things. Also you can hide secret notes in my mouth. This is how much it costs to take me home.
6. Or displays in other parts of the Playground.
Maybe a shelf at the entrance to the Playground or by the sign-in desk.
We could feature different neat things and have a little sign that says, Hey, I am for sale. At the Toy Shop!
7. In the soft.
We know — of course — that 99.9% of biggification is really about destuckification.
So that means I need to look at my stuff.
Are there places of discomfort? Parts of me (fuzzball monsters or sad, scared selves) that do not feel safe having stuff for sale?
Where is my resistance? What does it have to say? What do I know about it?
And then I can practice destuckifying. Using things like how now is not then or talking to slightly future me.
8. Undoing the spell.
Maybe me-from-then cast an accidental spell on the Toy Shop. Keeping it invisible or small or quiet in an effort to try and keep me safe.
It is my job to undo that spell.
And you can help.
How you can help!
First, what I don’t want.
I don’t need help in the soft. I can work on that myself using Shiva Nata and all the other destuckification techniques at my disposal.
And I don’t want to be psychoanalyzed or given advice about how to work on my stuff. I’m good.
And then what I do want.
What I’m interested in is steps in the hard.
Specifically, suggestions for signs. And things to say on them. And subtitles for the store.
Other ways to make it more clear and obvious that the Toy Shop contains things that someone could buy, if that person were so inclined, and that this is lovely and exciting.
How do we make it clear that the Toy Shop is, in fact, a Toy Shop? While still staying congruent with the bigger Playground culture of play, light-heartedness, safety, amnesty, permission and spaciousness?
I want reassurance (one day the Toy Shop will be all the magical things it can be), and rejoicing (for all the work I have already put into making the Toy Shop a beautiful, peaceful, restful, loving space).
And I want snacks for my iguana pen, because I have a giant iguana that needs some love, and it’s feeling a little anxious that I’m spending time with the Toy Shop instead of talking to it today.
So iguana snacks are appreciated. You can just toss them into the pen. Thank you!
Searching for a collective noun. Please help.
So. I have been a woman in search of a verb.
And together we have looked far and wide for ways to describe iguanas.
I need your help again.
Here’s the question.
This is what I asked the Twitter bar last week:
What’s the collective noun for an obscene number of open Firefox tabs? A bevy? A fluster? An impossibility? A span?
The public needs to know. Well, I need to know.
Here’s what I got.
Oh-so-many marvelous responses.
Including:
- A clutter of tabs
- A fandeck of tabs
- A crash of tabs
- A phlox of tabs
- An array of tabs
- A tabulation of tabs
- A Flaming Skulk of tabs (It’s just one guy!)
- A profusion of tabs
- A library of tabs
- A maelstrom of tabs
- A flock of tabs
- A rumpus of tabs (I quite approve of a rumpus of anything.)
- A smarmal of tabs
- An inferno of tabs
- A procrastination of tabs?
- An enthusiasm of tabs! (So true.)
- A spasm of tabs
- A smatter of tabs
- A spangle of tabs
- A bankruptcy of tabs
- A distraction of tabs !!!
- An obsession of tabs?
- A blustering hurricane of tabs (Another candidate for a Fake Band of the Week)
- A cluster of tabs
- A necessity of tabs!
- A flab of tabs
- A blaze of tabs !!!
- A clusterfuck of tabs
- A den of tabs
- A leak of tabs
- An overwhelm of tabs
- A slowdown of tabs
- A crash of tabs
- A conflagration of tabs
- A flurry of tabs
- An amassment of tabs.
It kind of reads like a poem.
Also suggested:
A tabillion tabs! Tabscenity. Tabpocolypse. And a Tabstravaganza.
I like it.
And the one that made me snicker:
From @StevenHowe: “A carton of tabs, surely.”
Yes.
Here’s what I want and need from you.
More suggestions!
Or: what are your favorites?
And!
I also have about seventeen billion (yes, monster-number) open TextEdit documents that are currently freaking me out through existing.
What’s the collective noun for THAT?
Please suggest.
A _______________ of TextEdits. Or a ___________________ of open documents?
Whatever you think sounds good.
Thank you!
And thanks to:
@revrendoni, @lisafirke, @amnaahmad, @jillian6475, @amthanna, @aronL, @jjlogs, @Cazzylina, @AardvarkPotions, @maclogue, @whynotdancing, @jneves, @martieu, @LeelaSinha, @jovanevery, @KaleenaRivera, @spiralsongkat, @mobiiart, @PokMcFee, @UncontainedLife, @JamesWester, @spiralshannon, @judespacks, @LoveWastingTime, @verso, @bswx, @phenom1984, @AlexisHelmrath, @BradenRussom, @HiroBoga, @angeladee, @jeremymyers, @fiona_robyn, @kirstenasimmons, @peetahb and @TBilich.
Suggestions are welcome.
Everything goes better in my life when I have the right word or the right metaphor.
Help is appreciated!
xox
Very Personal Ads #112: bobble whatzits and the vocabulary problem
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.
I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!
The title of this post…
Is it just one guy?
Probably. Moving on!
Thing 1: a tiny, designated notebook
Here’s what I want:
I’ve been doing this ritual at the Frolicsome Bar (our facebook page) where I list some of the things I’ve experienced, noticed, perceived, etc over the course of the day.
Then people join me and it’s lovely! (See also: Today I Saw.)
But I cannot always remember things that I’ve experienced. Or sometimes I jot them down for later and forget.
And then I’m constantly finding random cryptic little notes:
Older gentleman at bus stop inquired as to when I’d last eaten ice cream (answer: twelve years ago).
Which is vaguely entertaining but it doesn’t help my practice because I can’t remember what I’ve already posted and things get lost. I need something that supports this ritual, because I like it.
Ways this could work:
Maybe there will be the perfect tiny little notebook at the bookstore near the Playground.
And then I can use the art supplies in the Treasure Room to decorate it.
I’ll probably also need another tiny notebook to use for gwishing, so they don’t get mixed up.
My commitment.
To experiment. To keep trying things until something sticks. To stay connected to the essence of this Things I’ve Experienced Today thing.
It’s a kind of playful mindfulness. Conscious and aware but also light-hearted and full of sparkling possibility. If I stay connected to that, maybe the solution will find me.
Thing 2: a whole list of stuff for the Playground
Here’s what I want:
There are all sorts of things that the Playground needs, and of course I can’t remember most of them at the moment.
But the list definitely includes:
- Wig heads. Wig stands? You know what I mean. Things that you put wigs on.
- Those wobbly bobbly things that hold cards. I don’t know what they’re called.
- A lamp.
- Another mirror.
- Shelves for the Galley.
- A gumball machine! Or something like that. I have this picture in my head but I can’t really describe it yet.
- More costumes.
Ways this could work:
I don’t know.
I can put out an ask here. I can head out on an Expotition or hit some garage sales.
Just putting it here for now.
My commitment.
To revisit this and find out what is missing.
Thing 3: a new ritual for Morning Begins At Night.
Here’s what I want:
To do something each evening to help set up the morning to come.
Ways this could work:
I’ll probably take this to Shiva Nata and see what it gives me.
My commitment.
To pay attention and ask smart, loving questions. To be patient. To drop the seed and let it land.
Thing 4: love stories for the Great Ducking Out II
Here’s what I want:
Last year’s Great Ducking Out (aka run away from Thanksgiving!) was the most wonderful and amazing thing ever.
So I’m doing it again.
I want love stories from people who came last time. About the food and how much yum. About the fun, silliness, epiphanies, camaraderie or anything else.
And I want to put those stories on the HAT.
Ways this could work:
I can ask here!
If you were at last year’s Great Ducking Out and you have a story to share or a sentence or a description and I could use it, that would be marvelous.
I can also write up my own stories and memories from last year.
And I can put out a more formal request to everyone who came.
My commitment.
To fill up on love. To update the page.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I made a wish about Hawaii, and I am still wishing it.
Then I asked about a really good strapless bra, and I am going to use Larisa’s recommendation for where to go look for one.
I wanted to announce the Crossing, and I didn’t. But mainly because I was sick and didn’t do much of anything last week. So re-asking this one.
Also I wanted to find the good in a tough situation and I did!
I wanted to tell you guys about the Great Ducking Out and I sort of did and sort of didn’t.
And celebration for the Shiva Nata iPhone app — appreciated! Thank you.
Comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.
Things that are welcome! Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!
xox
Friday Chicken #160: ha, there was some good stuff in there after all.
In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
This week was not fun.
Let’s bid it farewell, in the hopes that next week will feel welcome to come in and be more… compatible.
In the meantime I’m kind of dreading the chickening because I can’t remember any of the good stuff.
Luckily I know from doing a hundred and sixty of these that there is always some good stuff. Let’s see.
The hard stuff
I didn’t get a weekend. Again!
Because of the Shiva Nata iPhone app launch. Which I didn’t know was going to happen just then.
But it did, and when a launch happens you’re kind of supposed to be there for it.
So work emergency trumped vacation-emergency, and I spent my much-hoped-for holiday working from my hotel room.
Which was supposed to be a really nice hotel.
But it turned out to be a crappy hotel pretending to be a nice hotel.
Among the amusing bits:
The jets taking off and landing outside the window, the forgetting of hand towels (twice), the coming into the room despite the Do Not Disturb sign (twice), and leaving a container of furniture polish and a dirty rag next to my bed. Lovely.
It was a very apt reflection of some other sovereignty/boundaries stuff that I was working on.
And it also kind of worked as absurdist theater.
And then regretted the decision all week anyway.
Regretting things is annoying.
Especially when you originally made the calculation that if you’d made Decision A, it would come with fewer regrets than Decision B.
A lot of things hurt this week. And I wasn’t myself so the hurt came with a lot of resentment, and I wasn’t in a spot where I could adequately work with the resentment. It sucked.
But hey, I learned something. Nothing like the hard way!
Because I got sick.
So that was my week.
Mostly in bed. But not the fun kind of in bed. The completely not able to function kind.
And then everything else kind of deteriorated because of that.
It was crazy hot.
I was tired, miserable and cranky and couldn’t get anything done.
Wasn’t paying attention, wore the wrong shoes out, got awful blisters, had to walk home barefoot at night which resulted in more feet-hurt, couldn’t go to dance class, missed the bus, generally not fun.
It got even less fun than that but I really don’t want to talk about it.
Let’s just say that I am planning on not having any more weeks like this.
Also this.
When I’m not depleted, I’m much better equipped to deal with boundary stuff.
And when other people decide not to take responsibility for their stuff and put it all on me instead, I don’t get annoyed.
But when I’m exhausted, over-worked and unhappy, I forget how to meet other people’s pain with compassion.
So then I end up not responding until I’m able to respond. And now there are all these backed-up responses.
Oh and then no water.
A mysterious Hoppy House problem resulted in no water.
On the hottest day of the year, because why not.
Luckily I had just had a massive Berlin-homesickness-craving for Apfelschorle, so I was well supplied with liquid until it got sorted.
The good stuff
Making the roller derby bout.
Remember in the VPAs two weeks ago when I made a wish to be on tour?
I made it to the bout and did a teensy little shivanautically-themed workout for my skaters. GNR looked great. They stayed in their force fields, played tough and beat the Southern Oregon Roller Girls 131-53.
Super fun. And yeah, we were the only fans there but we made a LOT of noise.
And — how sweet is this? — they asked me to be in the team picture too. It’s adorable.
The world didn’t end even though I couldn’t work this week.
That’s always good to remember.
Taught some lovely classes.
The Shiva Nata class at the Playground was amazing.
I’ve been having crazed epiphanies all week.
Plus it was hilarious.
We had Trampoline, Lizard, Brownie and Disco as the horizontals, and Sailboat, Pumpernickel, Bonus and Nostrils for the verticals.
Then we did some Level 3 and Level 4, mixing words and numbers.
So if left hand does numbers and right hand does words, 2:8 = two nostrils. But the mirror reflection is NOT nostrils two as you’d expect. It’s eight lizards! Yes. CRAZY.
Oh, and I did a class for my Kitchen Table program and some really neat stuff happened.
The Shiva Nata iPhone app!
It came out last week and this week everyone talked about how great it is, and that made me very, very, very happy.
Thank you for all your support and spreading the word. Though now I’m totally wishing I’d consulted Briana and called it Epiphanies in My Pocket!
But still. Pocket Shiva Nata! It’s here and it’s fabulous. HOORAY!
I broke down and bought some clothing.
Now I shall be clothed!
Ez!
Fun chat with my brother made it all better.
Onward Rose City!
The Timbers made their three points on Wednesday by beating Chivas USA, so we’re still — barely, by the skin of the teeth — in the running for playoffs. Yes, it’s ridiculous.
Also there was a Timbers win over the Whitecaps, except everyone here adores the Whitecaps, so the celebrating was relatively subdued and all “we love you, guys!”, etc etc. Best chant from that match? “Your bacon is a lie!”
And then there’s lots of roller derby this weekend, so I’m happy.
Understandings reached.
Thanks to all the Shiva Nata, massive realizations all week. About time and space.
More specifically about my time and space, the ways that I don’t appreciate or take care of my time and space, and what I’m going to do about that.
This resulted in a huge depiling, some ceremonial dispatching of iguanas, and making a number of changes in my Pirate Queen Quarters at the Playground.
I’m in Colleen Wainwright’s 50-for-50 interviews!
This is big for a number of reasons.
One: I dislike being interviewed and so I’ve turned down all interview requests for nearly three years. But I like the Communicatrix so much and care about her mission so much that there was no way I wouldn’t do this.
Two: What she is doing is incredible. Support it!
Three: She wrote my bio. I didn’t have to write a bio! This is brilliant, because I detest writing bios.
Four: This interview is one of fifty interviews with her favorite women writers. And I’m on that list! This is a happy!
Anyway, here’s my interview about pickles and writing. Note the lovely picture of the Schmoppet. Schmoppet!
I hope you enjoy. And I really, really hope that you spread the word about her 50 for 50 project.
And … playing live at the meme beach house it’s the Fake Band of the Week!
My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”
And this week’s band actually comes to us via that same brother.
Another Guilt Machine
They’re playing in town all week. Except that it’s really just one guy.
That’s it for me …
And of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments if you feel like it.
Yes? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?
And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come. Shabbat shalom.
p.s. It’s okay if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — you can join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.