Woohoo!

My best childhood friend, my brother, Greg (God rest his soul), and I used to do this. It's what we thought swings were for! What good was "back and forth, back and forth, back and forth," with no SSWWOOSH! and a glorious moment of weightless freedom -- before you crashed down into the sand -- and twisted your ankle?

 Little Greg looking down

at Little Me.

 Remember the flat-seated swings? You don't see them any more! A casualty of our hyper-cautious Western world, I'm afraid. But they worked far better for launching yourself out of than today's "sling" seats. I mean -- no kidding, kids! --you were a rocket shooting out of the old-fashioned swings

 at the top of the arc! And then you had to scramble out of the way before the hard wooden seat swung back and crashed down on your head...!

Ah the glory days! It's a wonder we didn't break our backs.

Outside of childbirth, I can't think of many things in my life that -- being so fraught with terror -- were more exhilarating! But, what's the fun if there's no risk?  What good is reward without hard work? Love without sacrifice?

And oh, the leaps we've taken, Dan and I! I'm not sure if we've been stupid or brave -- or both! But, what a rush this life has been so far.  And now I'm scrambling like the dickens over here, hoping I don't get clocked by the swing in the back of the head. And that I'll find my footing, or that God'll catch me before I fall flat on my face in the gravel.

 Regardless, I expect I'll get back on the swing and do it again -- and hopefully end on my feet in the end. Or maybe just keep flying and flying -- which was the original childhood dream. One that I now know is possible. Greg's doing it.