23 March 2016

The Little Joys of Life

Newscasts from any source are depressing as hell these days. Between the apparent demise of decorum in political debates (yes, once upon a time such a thing did exist) and world events, it is extremely tempting to dig a deep hole, crawl in, and pull the dirt in over one's head. This year's election slate of presidential candidates is, to quote a meme on Facebook, akin to choosing which STD you'll prefer to contract. Gah.



So one needs to observe and embrace joy in all the little areas of life. It is springtime in the desert, with wildflowers blooming everywhere in a glorious riot of color.  Blue palo verde trees are also blossoming like giant bouquets of daffodils dotting the landscape. Green palo verdes will burst into flower in another couple of weeks. Hedgehog cactus now dot yards and lots with brilliant purples, pinks, and cheerful shades of orange. The hummingbirds and drunk on nectar, and the quail are running rampant as they hunt for prime hidey-hole nesting spots.









I had the honor of having two great friends help me at the Phoenix Caledonian Society's Highland Games last week. Raelene "Minion Mayhem" Ruiz, Sara "Minion Mamamamama" Boland, and Sara's delightful son, Colton (aka The Bug) made the heat seem just about tolerable, even though it was closer to 100 degrees than 90.


I have written about Colton before, in support of Down Syndrome Awareness.  At just a few months shy of three years old, The Bug is into lots of mischief, loves to share Cheerios, and--like every other two-year-old--lets his displeasure be undeniably known. He is adorable and laughs easily, especially when tickling feet:




Life is better with minions of all ages!



 He is a very tolerant child for his age, from long rides in the truck to hanging out with his mom and her crazy friends in the Welsh League of Arizona booth. He got to see some cool dogs, eat bunny crackers, and ride the light rail for the first time. Even hot and tired, he didn't fuss more than one would expect for a two-year-old. Hell, I think I whined about the heat more than he did.





So even if the world seems to be ripping itself apart and people running for President act worse than five-year-olds fighting over toys, there is still joy to be found in desert flowers, bunny crackers, and a wonderful baby's laugh.

Happy writing, 

~Jude

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