Hot Dang Holidays, Photo by BradensEye in ever-loving Nashville

Cheers to making chipper hipper! ’Tis the season for being the sprinkles summiting all confections. Our walk of life isn’t a cakewalk every day. Even I can find some fraudulent reasons to channel too much humbug. Therefore, giving over to effervescence whenever one can is the zippy spring your steps deem worthwhile. I pray a lot for a jubilation nation. I want us all to be winners in the merry championships. Here’s to putting a surplus of folly jolly into everywhere you are this special festivity and evermore. Holidays are for sorting joyful ways to make your and anyone’s day. I’m talking a wheedling of the needle on your old vinyl machine to tune the sounds for your sweeties swirling night. Undeniably, such positive pomposity plumps the hump and stirs the jump in Santa. This is the kind of overdosing on Christ the masses should enjoy. A passion for gladsome is a hot pursuit.

There might be some credit in being jolly. ~Charles Dickens

We’re in the spell between old and new (year’s that is). No matter if you’re gathered together with any group from family to friends, in public or private, or you’re going it solo this stage, this is about letting the smiley bits seep in. I’ve got some friends who are down around this chapter. And by down my point is they’re tearfully low. Happiness has its intervals. It’s hard to stay committed to an upbeat if life’s showing you the darnedest cracker minus the tasty nuts. Instead, I’m speaking to your personal traffic we want to jam full of jovial. I swear that a major tipping forward of chummy glee can set your sadness free. Lending our debts of despair to jocular frivolity is key. When we galvanize gaiety communicable becomes benign. For all the folly we could ever infect, playful buoyancy is this sight. Devoted as a vivacious fiend, I fondle the flirty fairy faith to distribute motivation through data domains near and far.

Let’s raise children who don’t have to recover from their childhoods. ~Pam Leo

My growing years were richly rewarded in follies. A primarily thumping purpose included various vacations. Christmases ranked strongly in that lively bundle. Participation massively endowed the lightheartedness. While we weren’t the Griswold’s in terms of decking our home outdoors, all halls and overall indoors were a bustle of activities. To memory, we began directly as the post-Thanksgiving turkey was still being warmed for ostensibly endless sandwiches for my dad. Decorating was a decree. It was armies of gingerbread men and women to the generations of handmade items for the angel-topped pine. We had live trees, wreaths, and tons of sprigs of holly. Mistletoe kept kisses or hugs in flow. These holy moments are largely the heart of my near-half century. Every child shouldn’t have to pleas for blessings like these. Hopefully, the children around you, just as the young one inside you, are naturally treated with this folly jolly-filled flexing.

It’s better to be happy than well dressed. ~Iris Apfel, IRIS

The follies part of a truly jolly state is how you just don’t care about anyone else’s take on your bubbly benefits. My nephew’s current candy cane red jammy pants have the bright green Grinchface all over them, with two big infamous grins poised wittily one upon each buttock area. One of my favorite permissions of withstanding winter barrication with my family is the entitlement to wear whatever combination of garments you please. I’m not a pajamas traditionalist, in that I lean farther in the comfort category than any matching ensemble would ever agree. I’m forever grateful to those souls surrounding me who authorize my levels of optimism right alongside any silliness of fashion in the least. I still know how to wow if that’s what I’m going for, but I surely admire ducking prior sensitivity with the absurdity of trying to look like someone I don’t feel. Happy-go-lucky is the only apparel I wish we’d all trend.

Love is the wisdom of the fool and the folly of the wise. ~Samuel Johnson

Love. Do. The action; the verb. You’ve got this. We’ve got this! The noun is the gift that comes with behaving human. Never expressing our love is the highest form of lunacy. I believe we’re eminently improved with the freight of our loving. Which is different from the creative giddiness that folly’s sagacity philosophizes. Charged with this mortal character we are and set aloof in a world laden of people, consider the whole earth an amusingly airy playing field. Maybe your love is pampering with a tiny appetizer of tomfoolery. Quite the reverse, you might brandish boisterous rejoicing for everybody in reach. Allow yourself insights with this intelligent affair. A rationality of goodwill is embedded in the brains of being a romantic. Love laughs loudly. Love will be your greatest folly jollies. Aim to be the hot-diggity-dog in someone else’s bun.

… laughter is carbonated holiness. ~Anne Lamott, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith

May your spirited ways get carried away a good deal of time.


LOVER of life. Especially people, places, philanthropy and photography.