Posted in True Story, Inspirational, Sri Lanka, love, marriage

The Story of the “Dandelion Guy”

dance
Taken on my maiden voyage “MV Lanka Sri Mathi” 

To My Darling (but sometimes a pain in the neck) Husband

I want to tell you a story of a “Young man with a Dandelion”.

Thirty years ago on this date, a young man (slightly dashing I might add), took a garland and then a jewellery named “Thali” and said to this rather naïve and pretty thing, “well I am your husband from this day forward”

But the story begins way before that.  This said young man had apparently vowed that he was never going to get married (well that’s the story he is spinning currently, so I have to go with that)

It all changed when he tagged along with his sister to the Sri Lankan Tea fields.  His sister had a friend who lived in the picturesque hill country of Sri Lanka.  Couple of days of the fresh air and cups of tea somehow started to have an effect on this young man.

At the same time his sister’s friend had her own convictions.  This girl avoided all advances or even a suggestion by the opposite sex.  She sneered at girls who went gaga over boys.  In her mind that was all a waste of time.

She had a clear plan for her life, she was not going to even contemplate boys until she was 23 or 24 of years of age (there was a method in her madness, thought it might be a distraction until she finished university).  And when she was ready her suitor would be someone who was about the same age or not more than a 5 yr gap, No smokers, and only moderate drinkers were going to be even in the running.  Well she had no idea that she was going to throw away all these rules just for a dandelion.

The three of them (the guy, his sister and her friend) took a pretty innocent walk down the tea fields. There must have been a change in the wind direction.  Nothing else explains the rest of the events.  The guy suddenly plucks a dandelion by the way side and offers it to this girl.  Their eyes lock.  She thinks far out it’s just a dandelion.  They were laughing and talking about stupid things until then.  There was no build up for this.  There was no Andre’ Reiu or angels playing the harp.  Just a dandelion and maybe that special look but something changed in her.  Not sure what led the guy to pluck the dandelion.  But according to him, she was different than others; she had somehow gnawed into his brain.

Many things happened after that, some sad and some mundane. But after two years, so 30 yrs ago their journey together began.

 

This dashing charming but slightly arrogant young man thought that he was marrying a beautiful young girl, who would dance to all his whims, do all his chores, and he thought he was set for the rest of his blissful life. Boy was he in for a shock. Little did he realise that this girl, who wore a nice naive smile, who looked pensive and obedient was in fact, (when prodded) was rather bull headed and was exactly like him.

In spite of the clashing horns, there was still a lot of love that kept the unity twined together. Also the Dandelion guy learnt that he was mostly wrong and even when he doubted the verdict, it was still better for his safety and well being to apologise to his wife and listen to her.  So obviously they lived happily ever after. (Time to time he forgets but he soon learns his mistakes)

 

 

The girl does have a few messages for the Dandelion guy.

Thank you for the Dandelion.

Thank you for the German erasers you stole from the ship

Thank you for being there for me when my dad died

Thank you for marrying me

Thank you for caring for my mum as your own

Thank you for all the encouragement and being honestly proud of me when I was studying, you even cooked pizza for me when I got back late from College.  And you hate cooking.

Thank you for giving me two beautiful kids

Thank you for always thinking about us before you

Thank you for accepting my friends as yours.  Especially accepting Lalith means a heck of a lot for me.

Thank you for being there for all the highs and lows of the Westpac life.  You gave me the confidence to excel and the courage to stand up.

Thank you for being the rock during my health scare.

Thank you for never doubting me and always believing in me.  (Well have the same courage that I will stop at the traffic light, trust me, I am not colour blind)

 

Now she has some requests/ or demands

Never forget that we are a team.  Lean on me when you need to.  I am/ and will be always there, right beside you.  All I ask in return is for you not to mix up the spoons, curry spoon in the curry and not in the rice.

Don’t forget taking care of you is kind of taking care of us.  So please, take care of yourself and give me the opportunity to grow old together.

And please know that your gal still loves you.

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

New Year … Hope, Dreams, Promises and Resolutions

Happy New Year NASA Theme

Midnight, 31st day of December – it is almost like the anti Cinderella moment.  We await that clock to finally move to straight up ahead.  Somehow what we didn’t achieve in 2016 was now going to be possible in 2017.  We have hope, we have hope that our dreams are going to come true. We can lose weight, we will get that new job, we will make money, we will find love.  It is all possible once that clock moves to 12.00. The unknown future date will somehow bring good luck as at 12.00 midnight.  The glamour lasts that whole day. You wish everyone on facebook, on the streets and on the phone.

But by the time 2nd of January rolls around, the cheer, starts to wane.  It could be just the reality hit “it’s just another day” or it could be withdrawals from all the alcohol since Christmas.  But life does become as mundane as it was on the 29th of December.  Still, I think it is alright to have that one moment when the entire world world goes crazy, for love, happiness, peace, and everything else.  Because it’s the starting point that you pin your hopes on.  Without hope there is no motivation for tomorrow.

Each culture and each family would have their own traditions.  Until we came to Adelaide our tradition was to go to Eric and Rajee’s house.  The same crowd got together each year. Our kids were really young. Eric would always have sparklers for young and all.

We brought this tradition with us when we moved to Adelaide.  My cousin did the Christmas and I did the New years Eve.  We had  a set of family and  friends who became regulars for this event.  I love a full house.  The banter, the laughter, the noise, the chaos it all makes it a happy home.

Last night sure was a strange one.  In my nearly 30 year marriage hubby and I have never been apart on New Years.  He is away in Sri Lanka due to his fathers passing.  My youngest is in Japan.  This is the first year, he has missed his birthday, Christmas and New Year from the family.  Mum had to make a dash to Sydney with the forth funeral for the month. Right now there are more pets in the house than humans.

2016 sure has been an interesting year.  The end has come crashing down with four deaths which had put a massive damper on my mood.  But, it had some great moments as well. My son Hari graduated.  His friend Trent graduated.  A Super proud mum – super proud moments.  Hari after a rough start, finally got his first proper job.  I am an Engineers mum.  This mum’s on top of the world.

Then a bunch of us turned 50 this year.  We organised a school reunion and met some of my school friends after nearly 30 years. That was just an awesome time.  We relived our youth. We rekindled our friendship.  Almost a week of celebrations.

My bestie/sis-in-law and I went to Goa to celebrate to our monumental birthday.  Found a new city to be pampered.  Again we laughed till we cried. We ate, we drank and was silly till early hours. Found our youth in between complains of aching bones.

Then came the grand finale.  Bang, bang, bang.  People just dropping like flies to Mortein. Death is part of life and I have to reconcile that.  Hard as it may be to swallow when it’s unexpected and it is someone you want to see again, we still must move on.  Apparently. So I shall not dwell.  Happy that the final news was that my nephews wife is pregnant.

Spoke to hubby around 3.00 am.  He had just got back to the lonely hotel room after visiting relatives.  It might have been around 10.00 or 11.00 pm over there.  I wish he was here.  I see this message on my phone, “are you still up?”  Yes of course I was wide awake counting sheep.  Spoke about the two boys.  Spoke about the dog. We are grateful for what we have and  hopeful of our future.  Cannot ask for more.

Happy 2017 everyone.

Posted in Sri Lanka, True Story, Inspirational

Man proposes and God Disposes (part 2)

tmp14

My father in law (mama) passed away on the 28th November 2016.  We were getting him prepared for a Cataract Operation and leaves us with a heart attack.  Well, he was old, he was slowing down, but he was still managing his own things.  He could shower by himself etc. So obviously this came from no where.  Well, saying that, we only recently came to know of his weak heart.

With all three kids out of Sri Lanka, his well fare and what do we next had been a major worry for us lately.  Just about two years ago just after his 80th he contracted an infection on his leg, then last year he broke his thigh bone and had to undergo an hip replacement surgery.  Since then we saw a slight decline of his health and his morale.  I also think passing of his mate PM was another reason.

So Jana hopped into his room on the 28th morning, full of beans.  He was surprised to see her as she wasn’t meant to be there till the 30th.  India was having a “hartal”, I have been informed it is a kind of strike action where all the shops and businesses are closed.  So Jan changed her plans and got to Sri Lanka by the 27th night.  She gave dad a big hug and said, “ok, dad we have things to do today” ( I don’t know if thats what she said word to word, but I imagine knowing her personality it would have been something along those lines), made him a cup of coffee, and explained the reason for her early visit.  She needed to change some local currency and she had decided to do some shopping for her dad as well, she asked him to be ready to go and see the doctors regarding the eye surgery.  Mama reluctantly said “ok then”.

She was on her merry way and suddenly she stopped before she reached the gate.  Went back and said “I didn’t give you a kiss”, gave him that kiss and left.  Mama had managed to shave and then gone to have a shower.  He had an aide who stayed with him during the day. He was making him porridge and heard mama calling out “Rajan, Rajan” he found him collapsing.  Jana returned home when the chaos was unfolding.  They rang for the ambulance and she rang me while waiting for the ambulance.

I was asking her “is he conscious”.  Jana was not answering my questions, I guess we were both trying to talk at the same time. The phone line was rather bad as well.  Anyway she hung up quickly as soon as the ambulance got there.  That was just a 2 second phone call.

I was thunderstruck, sat there for awhile trying to gather my thoughts and words. Now I had the task of calling hubby and his other sister who lived in Sydney.  I did it. Hubby was going to come home so we could ring again ask what’s going on.  His sister said she was going to call another relative who was also a Cardiologist, who knew all the medical history of mama.

I was seated, staring at the phone to ring. 20 minutes later the phone rings, maybe 15, I don’t really know, She was sobbing “appa (dad) is gone”, “What do you mean?!!!” appa is gone“. I had no words to say other than “Ennamma” (kind of like saying why hun”) , we both sobbed. I wish I was there to hug her, hug her tight.  She was there for me.  But I have never been there for her.

I thought what poor luck does this girl have.  First her mum, then she was the only one at home when the 1983 riots broke and her house was set on fire, then her hubby and now her dad.  The other two have always escaped doing the hard things.  But probably I have to look at it in a different light.  She was the lucky one to have had the opportunity to make him that last coffee, to have remembered to give him that kiss.  She wasn’t even going to be there till the 30th, even a twisted fate helped her to be there.

Everything else after that is a haze.  I somehow got the nerve to call hubby and sister. They left the next day to Sri Lanka.

There is no point talking about his passing or the funeral anymore.  He is gone and that’s that.  What ever we wanted to tell him but didn’t was a missed opportunity, What ever we managed to tell him or do for him was a blessing.

There are many life lessons to learn from this man.  Good, bad and the ugly.  But they are all lessons nevertheless.  He sure leaves an amazing legacy.  Proud to have been his daughter in law.  I am not sure if he ever regarded me as his daughter in law.  I was always a little girl who was his daughter’s friend.  Ah no I did become his daughter in law when ever he didn’t see eye to eye with his son.  Not that I didn’t have moments of exasperation thinking “why me” have to deal with these two bull heads.  But he was no ordinary father in law.  He was in fact an extra ordinary man.  He was a bit warped at times.  But aren’t we all.

I will gather my thoughts in the next couple of days and do justice to his memory.

Cont…

Posted in Sri Lanka, True Story, Inspirational

Man proposes and God Disposes (part 1)

tmp14

“Man proposes and God Disposes” this saying was a frequent quip from my father in law.

I open my blog after a nearly a month, it could be even more.  So much has happened  in that time.

My first blog after the Holidays was going to be about my holiday in Goa.  It was going to be about my anxiety, concern about going to India on my own.  And how different it all turned out to be. How I was so wrong to perceive that the entire India was going to be this dirty place and untrustworthy people.  From the time I landed in Mumbai to the time we left Goa, it was nothing but a perfect dream.  We found this amazing pocket of paradise in that vast country.  It was just me and my bestie who also happens to be my sister in law (she joined me from another country) in this place and we were pampered and taken care of like queens. We ate, we drank, we laughed and we cried.  We were 5 not 50.

I will definitely write about that experience, when I feel a little bit chipper, to do justice to the place, the people we met and everything else.

I arrived back in Australia on the 24th of Nov.  Frantically getting things ready for my son who was leaving for Japan for 3 months and fighting jet lag at the same time.  While I was holidaying my son had to endure one of lives hard lessons, losing a mate.  Well it started with his mate Jack and then one after another we went through 3 deaths in a span of two weeks.

After I left for Australia my sister in law went to another place in India to meet up with other friends and then she headed to Sri Lanka to see her dad.  She was there on the 27th night.   It was rather late so she headed straight to the Hotel and got to bed.  She was up rather early the next morning.  She was taking photos of the view, and sending it to us, also some from Goa, some crazy things we got up to, then armed with “whatsapp” on our phones we rang and spoke to her about her days agenda.

My Father in law required a Cataract Operation.  For what ever reason he was not too keen on it.

Cont ….

Posted in Recipe

The Love Cake

sri-lankan-love-cake-16600_l

The Love Cake is a very traditional Sri Lankan cake.  The above image makes it look more like a butter cake.  But I copied it from google images as it looks much better than how it actually looks.  Not sure why you would have an Orchid on the plate, not very Sri Lankan is it now, maybe a Fangipani, but an Orchid seems like an odd choice.  Anyway the cake itself is wrong.  The cake is usually not this high.  No one dusts icing sugar on the top either.  Well now you understand why it never appeared on Master Chef.  It may look very ordinary but the taste is just divine.

love cake 2.jpglove-cake-3

Well the above is what it actually looks like. Now you understand why I went with the first picture.

Now that we have dealt with the picture/image, let’s analyse the name.  Well … Chiffon cake does not mean that it was made out of the material chiffon.  Same here, for what ever reason it got the name Love cake and the name has stuck.  It is however a regular participant at Engagement parties or any other time we feel festive.

Some of my friends and relatives have been asking me for the recipe and I finally wrote it down.  And I thought why don’t I share this with the rest of the world (or at lest the blogging world).

Ingredients

6 –                    Eggs (I prefer to separate them)

500gm –           Caster Sugar (feel free to use less)

150gm –           Unsalted butter

3 tbl spoon –    Honey

2 tbl spoon –    Rose water (I prefer to use a bit more)

Finely chopped zest of a lime or lemon (I prefer lemon, lime could be a bit too strong at times)

1tsp      –           nutmeg grated (powder would do the job too; maybe use a bit more than a tsp)

1tsp      –           Cardamom (again you can throw the teaspoon away and use something bigger)

1tsp      –           Cinnamon (well let’s say I don’t believe in teaspoons)

250gm –           raw cashews chopped (I use a food processor, not powder level, but more than chopped)

250gm –           Coarse semolina

125gm –           Crystallised pineapple chopped

 

Directions

Preheat oven to 150c.  Line a cake tin. (This is a combination of two recipes, so I can’t really say what size cake tin to use, but I have even used muffin trays)

Beat the butter and sugar with an electric beater until pale and creamy.  Add the egg yolks one at a time, beating well after each addition.  Fold in Cashew, Semolina, Honey, rosewater, cardamom, cinnamon and nutmeg.

Beat the egg whites until firm peaks form.  Then fold this into the above mixture.

Spoon the mixture into the prepared tin/tins.  Bake for 1 hour and 10 min or until firm to touch.  No idea what that last sentence meant as I just copied off the recipe.  Baking time will depend on the depth of your cake tin, quantity etc.  This is not a cake that will get upset if you open the oven door while cooking. So best is to start low eg 45 min and when  it stops to wobble, it’s time to use a skewer. You want it slightly wet.  Else its overcooked and dry.  Once you take it out of the oven, leave in the tin for a few hours.  Even over night is okay.  Don’t be in a hurry to take it out of the tin. As the cake is going to be a big gooey, it is better to leave it to set.

Cup of tea goes really well with a slice of this cake.  My fellow blogger finishes her recipes by saying “and remember, this cake is always better if you share it”.

https://rabbitpatchdiary.com 

So yes, go ahead and invite a friend or two to share the cake and an afternoon.

Disclaimer:  Please note the above recipe is not endorsed by the Diabetic Society, cholesterol Police or any other Eat proper group.

Side Effects:    Very addictive and not so kind to the waist line.

 

Posted in Sri Lanka, True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

Graceful as Hippo in a Tutu

hippo-in-tutu

Not that I am clumsy, but certain outfits make me feel like I am walking on stilts.  It’s not the shoes,  but it is the clothing that makes me and my family nervous.

Although now living in Australia, I originally hail from the little island of Sri Lanka.  Our traditional garb is a saree.  We don’t wear it everyday, but required to wear it for most traditional events, such as weddings and engagement parties etc.

The first time a girl wears a saree is on her coming of age ceremony. However, she then goes on to wear other half hearted versions of the saree.  I guess, I should explain what a saree is first.

saree

This amazing outfit, has no zips or buttons, just held together with a few pins and a lot of hope.  Have you seen the advertisements for couch covers?  On the ad you see a well made couch, with pleats and bows.  And you think amazing, this will give my dead couch the face lift.  And you order the couch cover in.  And voila you open the online order delivery package, and what do you find, well in fact, just a really great long piece of material. The pleats and bows are up to you or you could just throw it over the couch or throw the couch itself. Some are talented and after the initial disappointment of seeing a long piece of material they can make something of it. However not everyone is that talented or successful.  Well it is the same with a saree.  It is just a piece of material that is 6 yards long.

You wear a blouse that is really tight.  Really tight, sleeves the body, and all over.  It’s like wearing a swim suit made out of cotton.  By the time you get in to the blouse you are out of breath.  This is the Indian version of the Victorian era Bodice.

Then comes the underskirt. This skirt does not have an elastic, noo… it has a rope/cord. Which once again is used to tie it really tight. Now that your boobs are squished and a cord that has stopped circulation around your waist line, you now start draping the six yard material by tucking one end of it into the skirt.  The more advanced you are, you use less pins to form the shape above.  It is harder than you think or it looks.  Although for most of my country folk it comes rather naturally.  Then again for most, gardening comes very naturally while I manage to kill even a cactus.

I have to admit the saree does make most look very graceful and elegant.

Front on, in this picture you can’t see any body.  But, don’t be fooled.  There is a massive gap between the blouse and where the skirt starts.  So from side on there is a great view of the woman’s midriff.  So to assume that this is a graceful and conservative garb is not entirely correct.  However, the elders of the society will not accept you rocking up in a pair of pants and a top that covers the midriff.

Coming back to when do we start to wear the saree.  Traditionally the first day would be on your coming of age ceremony.  But then after that you are not required to wear it until you are in your late teens.  As I said there are half hearted saree like garb that are acceptable by the society.

half-saree

Which is pretty much an elaborate skirt and a shawl that pretends to be half a saree.  But at this age you are not rebelling.  Because this is a new experience.  And this is just dressing up to be half an adult.  Remember helping dad to wash the car.  Yep, the novelty wears off.  But to begin with you are very excited, then by the time you are old enough to actually help, you are no where to be seen.  Well not for everyone.  Many love wearing the saree.  I am still waiting for that day.

Sarees are one size fits all.  And I think that is one of the problems for me.  I am even short for an average Sri Lankan or Indian.  And so a lot has to be tucked into my skirt.  And you have to also walk very lady like.  When growing up, when my mum couldn’t find me, all she had to do was look up a tree.  And she would find me quite comfortably perched on a branch, reading a book and munching on the fruits.

I wouldn’t call myself a complete tomboy.  I like getting a pedicure, buy shoes and handbags.  But, find pants in winter and shorts in summer as a very practical garb. High heels is not that practical but they do make me look a bit taller.  So when I wear a high heel with a saree the outcome can be very interesting.  My mum is the only one who can successfully drape me.  When I say successfully, I mean with minimum scene.  I walk in like a wound up robotic doll and take a seat and hope to never get up again.  Unless I am walking, I look very graceful.  What annoys me most now is some our international relatives have taken to wearing the saree for our functions.  And seem to be walking around, as if they have been wearing it all their life.

Mum and I went to Japan last year.  “When in Rome”….  Decided we should try wearing the Kimono.

kimono-uma

I was really excited.  There are places where you can hire these outfits and they drape it for you and you can hang on to them for the rest of the day.  You can walk around that little city area.  So you get the whole experience.  Same deal.  Traditional outfits for women were designed to restrict their breathing.  Or, it was like breast check, this was more like rib check.  By the time I came down those steep stairs and out the door, I had realised that these type of garbs looks nice on other women or on a manikin rather than on me.  Once again my mum walked around as if she has been wearing this all her life.

I think this hippo has learnt it’s lesson and quite happy with her pants.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/graceful/

Posted in Daily post, Sri Lanka, True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

First day back after a month’s silence

 

gsck

It’s nearly a month since I wrote anything.  Many reasons but mainly because of the reunion.  I missed writing.  With work and reunion planning and then a full house did not give me much opportunity to write.  I sat down for a bit yesterday to write.  After staring at the keyboard I retreated back to just liking things on facebook.  Looked at the Daily Post word prompt to get a start.  The word is Breakthrough.  All I could think of was the scene on “Good will hunting”, Robin Williams telling Matt Damon “It’s not your fault”, It was fresh in my mind, as I had just watched it for the millionth time today.  I am no movie critic, if I was, it would be a pretty short one, “I liked that movie or I didn’t really like that”.  So I started to read a few of the other contributions under the topic “breakthrough”. There was one from hotwhitesnow on writers block.  Exactly what I needed to breakthrough the fog.

https://hotwhitesnow.wordpress.com/2016/01/05/writing-through-writers-block/comment-page-1/#comment-989

Months of planning,  too and fro about the date, the venue, the numbers, catering, table decor, the list goes on.  Finally the girls were at our doorsteps and the day was here.

Some of us were meeting after nearly thirty years.  We attended a school called Good Shepherd Convent, (in Kandy, Sri Lanka).  Most westerners when they hear the end of the name “Convent”, they wonder if I was going to be a nun. The schools were originally established by the English missionaries.  We didn’t have many co-ed Schools.  So the girls schools were always attached to a nunnery and hence the name Convent.  The nuns ran the school and the boarding.

Kandy is the capital of the Hill country.  Most of the hills region are Tea Plantations.  So, other than a handful of so called staff the rest would be Indian labour force brought in by the English to work on the tea fields.  Woes of this labour force is a story for another day. Education was not the major priority for these folks.  Needless to say the local schools were really not geared for higher education.  So most of the parents sent their kids to boarding schools in Kandy or Colombo.  Parents of girls mainly preferred to send their daughters to Catholic schools, even those who were not Catholics. They liked the discipline and conservative up bringing.  I am rolling my eyes at this last sentence.  Still let me continue.

Our school stands tall and proud on that hill and gives me goosebumps every time I see a picture of it or hear the school anthem ” Triumphantly we raise it the standard of our school, oh may we ever be faithful to our Alma mater’s rule…”

I am not totally sure if we became well disciplined or more rebellious, I am not sure if we adhered to the conservative up bringing or became more free thinkers, but I am certain that in spite of the rubbish we had to put up we became quite bonded.  We became a family.  I think we were united against that common enemy, the nuns of course.

With the civil war, marriage and migration most of us dispersed to different parts of the world.  I lost contact with all of them.  It was as if I had no childhood friends.  My husband, his work and his circle of friends became my life.  Then after the kids, it was the kids, hospitals trips, coughs and colds, Nebuliser and Ventolin became my life. No complains, it was my choice, well not much of a choice, that was what unfolded, life was dumped on me and I had to run with it.

Then probably about 7 years ago, I gave into joining Facebook.  I had just come out of surgery.  I had just been given the news that I have survived cancer.  I had a major phiffany, “life’s too short to be doing just mundane things”.  I had this major urge to connect with people that I had lost contact, from my old work places, from my old school etc.

Stumbled across Amalie on facebook.  I only knew Amalie vaguely.   She was younger than me and she was a day scholar.  I only knew her because she used to hang out with Didi (a fellow boarder).  I sent her friend request anyway.  Seeing I was from the same Alma Mater, she accepted.  That was the beginning.  She was friends with a truck load of my friends from the boarding.

Some of us had changed in shapes and sizes.  Many a OMG’s followed by “how many kids? Messages going back and forth, especially between me and Suzy girl.  Then I found Binah. We were the best of buddies in the boarding.  She left for Canada before finishing school.  I was distraught when she left. Binah couldn’t wait any longer.  She rang me earlier than the time we decided to call each other.  We were just so happy.  Then came a few other moments like that when I chatted with Praba and Malini.  Found out that Vasugi lives in Brisbane and Tessa in Victoria.  Shazee had not changed much at all.  Just had longer hair.

Learnt that we’ve all gone through various pain and happiness.  Some had lost their husbands, while some regretted their marriage.  Some had lost a child and fighting with every might to continue.   Some had done well in their careers and some not so.  Some of us survived the dreaded C but sadly some didn’t.

But when we chatter, for that moment, we are back in school.  We are connected by the memories of that school.  We are once again united by that school. I am still trying to recover from that one week of partying.  We laughed more than we drank.  We danced more than we slept.  That was a reunion to remember.

2016-09-24-19-49-34

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/breakthrough/