With all this snow I find myself prancing. I can't help it. It's so white and beautiful, adding a reflection of light to a sky that otherwise would be overcast, allowing dreary thoughts to seep into the bones.
Instead a shovel finds my hands with glee as I skid, hop, slide and fall up and down our driveway and street giggling like a giddy fool.
My freedom to fly high with fluttering excitement is a direct correlation to the amount of giddiness within me.
So what am I doing inside?
Giddy-up little prancing pony, it's time to fly.
Instead a shovel finds my hands with glee as I skid, hop, slide and fall up and down our driveway and street giggling like a giddy fool.
My freedom to fly high with fluttering excitement is a direct correlation to the amount of giddiness within me.
So what am I doing inside?
Giddy-up little prancing pony, it's time to fly.
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