These are the best days: the daylight stretching beyond bedtime, cokes out of bottles, children shrieking as they dodge sprinklers, retirees fussing over their straw-like lawns. Sunburns and sweat and pony-tails and graduation parties. Hot dogs and jello salads and the solace of a soft breeze. Griping about the lack of air conditioning, griping about rainy days. Plans of hikes and visits with friends and vacations to places with clear lakes and winding creeks and raging rivers. Picnics in the park and Shakespeare in the park and fireworks and campfires with marshmallows. Sticky kisses from kids who have eaten said marshmallows. Late mornings and later nights and dim fireflies in jars because your kids don’t want to ever let the light go. The groan and whirr of the window air-conditioner; tank tops showing off bare shoulders and arms freckled from the sun. Bare feet and dirty floors and dandelions in cups. Dancing with your husband beneath starlight to Ryan Adams or The Righteous Brothers or Melody Gardot. The aromas of a day well done blending together in the bathtub like soup: a mélange of dirt and sweat and hard play. Boys dilly-dallying in the bathtub. Light snores mingling with the cacophony of crickets chirping, bullfrogs croaking, beagles howling, teenagers laughing, that retiree mowing his lawn at 8:30 because it’s cool enough to stand it.
A good book, cool sheets and nimble dreams.
The moon in the window like in a fairytale.
Two cats hissing and fighting and screaming like they’re dying at 2am in your backyard. And no, I really couldn’t get back to sleep after that.
And let me tell you what- if they do it again, summer be hanged, I will shoot them with John’s BB gun.
Showing posts with label We like music; Happy Song Project. Show all posts
Showing posts with label We like music; Happy Song Project. Show all posts
Monday, June 11, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
On Sugar and Caffeine
I have a habit of making grand gestures and resolutions only to succumb to the first temptation that crosses my path. (With the exception of my marriage vow, naturally.) In other words: no, my “no refined sugar for Lent!” decree was not a complete success. (Did I write about my "no refined sugar for Lent!" decree? Anyway, I made one.) In my defense, I’ve made some helpful substitutions: almond butter on rice cakes instead of peanut butter and jellies; yogurt and a banana instead of a bagel; Kashi cereal instead of not-Kashi cereal. I’m going to have an omelet for lunch instead of a Whoopie Pie. So that’s something. (Every time I SEE a Whoopie Pie, a cupcake, or a donut and pass it by, an occurrence that happens far too often, an angel gets its wings.) Also, I’ve been going to the gym.
I love the Y. It’s bright, clean, and has every piece of exercise equipment and exercise class under the sun. I don’t even mind that the senior citizens in the community have turned it into a social club. So what if they don’t exercise, but just mill around drinking coffee and glaring at the kids who run into them on their way to the play center? When I’m 75, I’m going to do whatever I want, too. I will definitely clog up the lanes in the lap pool and then complain loudly when someone accidentally bumps me.
I do mind the people who get aggressive in the parking lot. God forbid we don’t get the closest parking space to the door. At the gym. Where we’re going to walk on a treadmill for 45 minutes. I understand if it’s a mom with a zillion kids or if it’s a rainy day, but to the little miss twenty-something who put my life in peril in pursuit of a parking space, you have issues. And I don’t like you.
As for the sugar thing, my pastor said that God doesn’t care if you stop eating chocolate. If we substitute “chocolate” for “jellybeans,” then hopefully, God and I are square. Easter is two weeks away, and I am going to make a valiant effort during the home stretch. By valiant effort, I mean that I’m going to make one last irresolute decree here on my blog under the auspices of religion.
Meanwhile, I went off caffeine this past weekend. Initially, it was accidental (no direct access), and then I decided, what the heck? I might as well rid this drug from my system.
To those considering giving up caffeine: the cold-turkey approach is a suck. John kept having me hold out my hands. Then he’d laugh hysterically because my ring finger wouldn’t stop trembling. Also, there was extreme nausea and the worst headache I’ve ever had. But it’s over now, and not being a coffee-drinker, I no longer feel the urgency to drink Diet Dr. Pepper at 10 in the morning. My kidneys will thank me someday.
I dedicate my Monday morning song to my husband, because he puts up with a whole lot from me. No, I’m serious. I’m difficult. And I’m thankful I’m still the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
Happy Monday. To those of you sipping your caffeinated beverages, I now look down on you with disgust for I am a better person than you. Ha ha.
I love the Y. It’s bright, clean, and has every piece of exercise equipment and exercise class under the sun. I don’t even mind that the senior citizens in the community have turned it into a social club. So what if they don’t exercise, but just mill around drinking coffee and glaring at the kids who run into them on their way to the play center? When I’m 75, I’m going to do whatever I want, too. I will definitely clog up the lanes in the lap pool and then complain loudly when someone accidentally bumps me.
I do mind the people who get aggressive in the parking lot. God forbid we don’t get the closest parking space to the door. At the gym. Where we’re going to walk on a treadmill for 45 minutes. I understand if it’s a mom with a zillion kids or if it’s a rainy day, but to the little miss twenty-something who put my life in peril in pursuit of a parking space, you have issues. And I don’t like you.
As for the sugar thing, my pastor said that God doesn’t care if you stop eating chocolate. If we substitute “chocolate” for “jellybeans,” then hopefully, God and I are square. Easter is two weeks away, and I am going to make a valiant effort during the home stretch. By valiant effort, I mean that I’m going to make one last irresolute decree here on my blog under the auspices of religion.
Meanwhile, I went off caffeine this past weekend. Initially, it was accidental (no direct access), and then I decided, what the heck? I might as well rid this drug from my system.
To those considering giving up caffeine: the cold-turkey approach is a suck. John kept having me hold out my hands. Then he’d laugh hysterically because my ring finger wouldn’t stop trembling. Also, there was extreme nausea and the worst headache I’ve ever had. But it’s over now, and not being a coffee-drinker, I no longer feel the urgency to drink Diet Dr. Pepper at 10 in the morning. My kidneys will thank me someday.
I dedicate my Monday morning song to my husband, because he puts up with a whole lot from me. No, I’m serious. I’m difficult. And I’m thankful I’m still the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
Happy Monday. To those of you sipping your caffeinated beverages, I now look down on you with disgust for I am a better person than you. Ha ha.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Driving With the Windows Down
Caleb is really into cars lately. He may even become (gasp) a Nascar fan.
“If I were a car,” Caleb said, “I’d be a Ford Shelby gt500.”
“Really?” I responded. “And what would Ben be?”
“A Ford gt40.”
“And Daniel?”
“Hmmm. A Corvette zr1.”
“And how about Ella?”
“Ella could be a Jaguar xf.”
“And what about me? What kind of car would I be?”
“A Chevy Impala.”
Well, crap.
Here's a song you listen to on a 75 degrees day while you're driving fast, windows down...
“If I were a car,” Caleb said, “I’d be a Ford Shelby gt500.”
“Really?” I responded. “And what would Ben be?”
“A Ford gt40.”
“And Daniel?”
“Hmmm. A Corvette zr1.”
“And how about Ella?”
“Ella could be a Jaguar xf.”
“And what about me? What kind of car would I be?”
“A Chevy Impala.”
Well, crap.
Here's a song you listen to on a 75 degrees day while you're driving fast, windows down...
Monday, March 12, 2012
Monday Morning News
I think maybe I used up all my words. Either that or I need some blog post prompts.
I have little of interest to say.
The weather here is gorgeous. I’m actually thinking of running off to JoAnn’s to buy some Easter décor. I always felt that nothing looks more depressing than Easter eggs on sparse branches in the dead of snowy March, but my crocuses are up and daffodils aren’t far behind. There is so much hope at the beginning of spring. I’ve demanded a porch swing for Mother’s Week where I plan to idle the summer away writing and reading and snoozing while my kids wreak havoc on the neighborhood. (I’m a superior mother. That’s why I get an entire Mother’s Week.)
In other news:
Good/ bad news: I had an interview at a real corporatey place where people wear heels and makeup. I thought I did okay, although I may have talked with my hands a bit much, and I might have said, “When I get this job…” I was trying to be confident. I think I came off as slightly unhinged.
There’s nothing wrong with working in pajamas, anyway.
Bad news: John’s traveling again so I’m left to my own devices, which means I’m eating jellybeans late at night while working on my “novel,” which has far too many characters for me to keep track of. Also, they’re mostly very badly behaved. I need to get control over them.
On Saturday, my family intervened on the chaos that is my life and hauled an entire dumpster full of junk out of my basement and garage. Good news: John’s luxury vehicle now fits in the garage. Bad news: Holly no longer has the collection of birthday cards she received when she turned ten.
Bad news: This week, I’m taking Caleb in to radiology because of his “failure to thrive.” I.e., he is the shortest third-grader in the world. Ella is off to get genetic testing on Friday, and Daniel is off to the doctor later today to see if there is good reason for his limping.
My children exhaust me.
Good news: Ben is healthy and cute!
Bad news: Kiah the Wonder Dog ate my jellybeans.
Good news: Kiah the Wonder Dog ate my jellybeans.
And that’s my life in a nutshell. Also, I had a remarkably awesome hair weekend.
For your Monday-morning happy song project selection: Some Bobby Darin.
I have little of interest to say.
The weather here is gorgeous. I’m actually thinking of running off to JoAnn’s to buy some Easter décor. I always felt that nothing looks more depressing than Easter eggs on sparse branches in the dead of snowy March, but my crocuses are up and daffodils aren’t far behind. There is so much hope at the beginning of spring. I’ve demanded a porch swing for Mother’s Week where I plan to idle the summer away writing and reading and snoozing while my kids wreak havoc on the neighborhood. (I’m a superior mother. That’s why I get an entire Mother’s Week.)
In other news:
Good/ bad news: I had an interview at a real corporatey place where people wear heels and makeup. I thought I did okay, although I may have talked with my hands a bit much, and I might have said, “When I get this job…” I was trying to be confident. I think I came off as slightly unhinged.
There’s nothing wrong with working in pajamas, anyway.
Bad news: John’s traveling again so I’m left to my own devices, which means I’m eating jellybeans late at night while working on my “novel,” which has far too many characters for me to keep track of. Also, they’re mostly very badly behaved. I need to get control over them.
On Saturday, my family intervened on the chaos that is my life and hauled an entire dumpster full of junk out of my basement and garage. Good news: John’s luxury vehicle now fits in the garage. Bad news: Holly no longer has the collection of birthday cards she received when she turned ten.
Bad news: This week, I’m taking Caleb in to radiology because of his “failure to thrive.” I.e., he is the shortest third-grader in the world. Ella is off to get genetic testing on Friday, and Daniel is off to the doctor later today to see if there is good reason for his limping.
My children exhaust me.
Good news: Ben is healthy and cute!
Bad news: Kiah the Wonder Dog ate my jellybeans.
Good news: Kiah the Wonder Dog ate my jellybeans.
And that’s my life in a nutshell. Also, I had a remarkably awesome hair weekend.
For your Monday-morning happy song project selection: Some Bobby Darin.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Back to the 80s
I've been on an 80s kick lately, which makes my husband very sad, but I'm having fun.
My kids love this song. It begins, "She was a be-bop baby." They think this is hysterical.
"Be-bop baby! Baaaa hahahahaha!" (I haven't even told them the band's name is "The Hooters.")
We listen to this song over and over and over again. Luckily, it's a cheerful little song and just watching the band members spastically kick thin air when they get excited has made my day happier. Hopefully it will yours, too.
My kids love this song. It begins, "She was a be-bop baby." They think this is hysterical.
"Be-bop baby! Baaaa hahahahaha!" (I haven't even told them the band's name is "The Hooters.")
We listen to this song over and over and over again. Luckily, it's a cheerful little song and just watching the band members spastically kick thin air when they get excited has made my day happier. Hopefully it will yours, too.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Can
I gave up sugar for lent. (Refined sugar, icky sugary processed foods. The really bad stuff.) Then there was cake and I may have indulged.
I’m not saying God smote me with cholera because I broke my Lenten promise, but I am saying it’s a slight to very real possibility. The cholera is one good way to expunge all the sugar from one’s body. Good grief.
There are far too many moments I tell myself I can’t.
I can’t keep up.
I can’t be happy.
I can’t stop craving sugary processed foods. I can’t.
I can’t run a 5K, let alone some type of marathon.
I can’t be a good mom to my wonderful kids.
I can’t keep promises to God, let alone to others.
And then God smites me with the cholera. Because the truth is, I can. And the sooner I learn to tell myself “I can” instead of “I can’t,” the better off I’ll be- and the less cholera I'll have to endure...
This video (and song) never fail to reduce me to a puddle. Enjoy.
For the record, I don't believe God smote me with cholera.
Also, I actuallyCAN'T don't like to run because my toes go numb and it's actually quite painful. Thoughts on this?
I’m not saying God smote me with cholera because I broke my Lenten promise, but I am saying it’s a slight to very real possibility. The cholera is one good way to expunge all the sugar from one’s body. Good grief.
There are far too many moments I tell myself I can’t.
I can’t keep up.
I can’t be happy.
I can’t stop craving sugary processed foods. I can’t.
I can’t run a 5K, let alone some type of marathon.
I can’t be a good mom to my wonderful kids.
I can’t keep promises to God, let alone to others.
And then God smites me with the cholera. Because the truth is, I can. And the sooner I learn to tell myself “I can” instead of “I can’t,” the better off I’ll be- and the less cholera I'll have to endure...
This video (and song) never fail to reduce me to a puddle. Enjoy.
For the record, I don't believe God smote me with cholera.
Also, I actually
Monday, February 13, 2012
For Valentine's Day
The husband is out of town half the week, so I was seriously contemplating posting a song full of angst and resentment, like that song Adam Sandler sang in The Wedding Singer after his fiance left him at the altar.
I was feeling a little sad and abandoned.
Then I thought maybe I was being a tad dramatic. After all, I get to spend Valentine's Day with four of the biggest lovebugs I've ever met. We're going to make cupcakes and cookies and watch Kiah the Wonder Dog chew her beef-flavor infused Valentine's Day dog bone. Also, we're going to fold some laundry. Any Valentine's Day that includes a beef-flavor infused Valentine's dog bone and laundry folding is bound to be glorious.
Today, I'm posting the most beautiful love song I know. The one I sing to my kids each night:
I was feeling a little sad and abandoned.
Then I thought maybe I was being a tad dramatic. After all, I get to spend Valentine's Day with four of the biggest lovebugs I've ever met. We're going to make cupcakes and cookies and watch Kiah the Wonder Dog chew her beef-flavor infused Valentine's Day dog bone. Also, we're going to fold some laundry. Any Valentine's Day that includes a beef-flavor infused Valentine's dog bone and laundry folding is bound to be glorious.
Today, I'm posting the most beautiful love song I know. The one I sing to my kids each night:
Monday, January 23, 2012
Alabama Shakes and Shopping at the Home Depot
We're in the process of moving the kids' rooms around. I lost my office. Ella is gaining her own room painted the color "Ballet Slipper" by Benjamin Moore.
This morning, after I convinced the fine gentleman at the paint store I didn't need primer (ample quantities of primer came with the house), I stopped by the Home Depot for an edger, some blinds, and just to browse.
Women enjoy browsing. Men shop with purpose, and the Home Depot is filled with men who are shopping with purpose. I meander lazily through the paint aisle and am nearly trampled by contractors and salesmen who assume I have a purpose for being in the paint aisle. I did have a purpose- getting an edger- but the purpose was really secondary to checking out the Martha Stewart paint colors. So pretty! Who gets to make up the names for paint colors? I want to paint my kitchen "Wooden Spoon," even though it's grey and doesn't match my kitchen at all.
John often mocks me because of my short attention span.
"And that's why I feel so passionate about this. I mean, it really comes down to- ooooh look! A butterfly!"
I feel like that in the Home Depot. There's the hanging blinds I'm looking for, gotta make sure to get cream and not white- oh look! Carpets are on sale!
I like the Home Depot, and I'm excited about Ella's new- oooh! Look! It's your Monday Happy Song!
I'm really looking forward to this album coming out in April. If you like Janis Joplin, etc. etc.:
This morning, after I convinced the fine gentleman at the paint store I didn't need primer (ample quantities of primer came with the house), I stopped by the Home Depot for an edger, some blinds, and just to browse.
Women enjoy browsing. Men shop with purpose, and the Home Depot is filled with men who are shopping with purpose. I meander lazily through the paint aisle and am nearly trampled by contractors and salesmen who assume I have a purpose for being in the paint aisle. I did have a purpose- getting an edger- but the purpose was really secondary to checking out the Martha Stewart paint colors. So pretty! Who gets to make up the names for paint colors? I want to paint my kitchen "Wooden Spoon," even though it's grey and doesn't match my kitchen at all.
John often mocks me because of my short attention span.
"And that's why I feel so passionate about this. I mean, it really comes down to- ooooh look! A butterfly!"
I feel like that in the Home Depot. There's the hanging blinds I'm looking for, gotta make sure to get cream and not white- oh look! Carpets are on sale!
I like the Home Depot, and I'm excited about Ella's new- oooh! Look! It's your Monday Happy Song!
I'm really looking forward to this album coming out in April. If you like Janis Joplin, etc. etc.:
Monday, January 16, 2012
Pride
I have a list of Happy Song Project suggestions, the first of which I will get to next week. For today, however, this song, though not entirely "happy", seemed appropriate.
HGL is in the process of migrating to its own Facebook page! To receive or continue to receive HGL posts on your Facebook news feed, please press "Like" on the Facebook plug in toward the top of the right column. You rock. Love, Holly
HGL is in the process of migrating to its own Facebook page! To receive or continue to receive HGL posts on your Facebook news feed, please press "Like" on the Facebook plug in toward the top of the right column. You rock. Love, Holly
Monday, January 9, 2012
Dreams of Walking in the Snow
When there are spiderwebs hanging from your Christmas tree like tinsel, perhaps you've kept it up too long. Unfortunately, Christmas trees are not easy to dust. The needles just keep falling off.
All this to say, I finally took the tree down and the stupid thing gave me a rash on my hand. Apparently I'm allergic to sap. Or bark.
I'm so over Christmas.
I am, however, uncharacteristically excited about winter. If it would just snow!
Ben (solemnly): I pray for snow every single day, mom.
And he does. (Dear God, thank you for this food. Bless it to our bodies. Thank you for mom and dad and all my grandmas and grandpas and for my teacher and for my toys and fireplaces and Kiah and robots, and please let it snow today. Amen.)
We want to go sledding and make snowmen and throw snowballs at my neighbor who hates me. But that's a post for a different day.
Today's happy song: Brandi Carlile's "Have You Ever." I could listen to it over and over and over and over and over and over...
All this to say, I finally took the tree down and the stupid thing gave me a rash on my hand. Apparently I'm allergic to sap. Or bark.
I'm so over Christmas.
I am, however, uncharacteristically excited about winter. If it would just snow!
Ben (solemnly): I pray for snow every single day, mom.
And he does. (Dear God, thank you for this food. Bless it to our bodies. Thank you for mom and dad and all my grandmas and grandpas and for my teacher and for my toys and fireplaces and Kiah and robots, and please let it snow today. Amen.)
We want to go sledding and make snowmen and throw snowballs at my neighbor who hates me. But that's a post for a different day.
Today's happy song: Brandi Carlile's "Have You Ever." I could listen to it over and over and over and over and over and over...
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Happy New Year, Peeps.
It's 10:30sh and I just recently got up because MY HUSBAND ROCKS.
First on today's bloggy agenda: I've simplified the blog layout. I've stripped it of advertisements and other stuff and changed the blog header. Someone I live with mocked it.
" 'The blog' in parantheses? Ha ha ha ha!"
I became offended, but thankfully we started speaking to one another again in time for me to sleep in today.
Stripping the blog is one step in my major life goal in 2012: Simplify MY ENTIRE LIFE before the crap hits the fan on December 21st. Or 23rd. Or whenever it is we're all supposed to perish. But discussing one's New Year's resolutions is a bit of a yawn when compared to presenting the Monday Happy Song, so I will move on.
Today's song has a backstory:
My father cruelly hid all my stepmom's Christmas music this year, so she's been listening to the soundtrack from The Sound of Music as a substitute. I do not think her Christmas music was ever recovered. I try not to get in the middle of these little marital spats, but I might suggest she hide something that's important to him? His grand piano, perhaps? I know a guy.
Anyway, she requested the following as a Happy Song for Monday, and she was so excited about it (I think she said, "Oooh! Oooh! Oooh!") that I had to oblige her.
On a side note: Caleb is not a fan of yodeling as a musical art form. Or, rather, not a fan of his mother's yodeling as a musical art form.
Comments below are for you to tell me how much you like my simplified blog:
First on today's bloggy agenda: I've simplified the blog layout. I've stripped it of advertisements and other stuff and changed the blog header. Someone I live with mocked it.
" 'The blog' in parantheses? Ha ha ha ha!"
I became offended, but thankfully we started speaking to one another again in time for me to sleep in today.
Stripping the blog is one step in my major life goal in 2012: Simplify MY ENTIRE LIFE before the crap hits the fan on December 21st. Or 23rd. Or whenever it is we're all supposed to perish. But discussing one's New Year's resolutions is a bit of a yawn when compared to presenting the Monday Happy Song, so I will move on.
Today's song has a backstory:
My father cruelly hid all my stepmom's Christmas music this year, so she's been listening to the soundtrack from The Sound of Music as a substitute. I do not think her Christmas music was ever recovered. I try not to get in the middle of these little marital spats, but I might suggest she hide something that's important to him? His grand piano, perhaps? I know a guy.
Anyway, she requested the following as a Happy Song for Monday, and she was so excited about it (I think she said, "Oooh! Oooh! Oooh!") that I had to oblige her.
On a side note: Caleb is not a fan of yodeling as a musical art form. Or, rather, not a fan of his mother's yodeling as a musical art form.
Comments below are for you to tell me how much you like my simplified blog:
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Under the Boardwalk
I'm a day late with my Monday happy song. This is actually typical behavior that I am going to try and rectify in the new year.
Several Valentine's Days ago, John took me out to eat at my favorite restaurant (since closed), and then to Eastman Theater to see Ben E. King. The place was filled with a bunch of 60-year olds and us, but it was one of the most enjoyable concerts I have ever been to. Mr King, of course, sang the below song, which is a wonderful antidote for grey and gloomy day.
For a few minutes, even I can pretend that the space under the boardwalk is NOT filled with broken glass, used prophylactic devices, and needles. It's a respite from the hot sun and, apparently, a great spot for dancing with my baby.
That's-a-where I wanna be...
Several Valentine's Days ago, John took me out to eat at my favorite restaurant (since closed), and then to Eastman Theater to see Ben E. King. The place was filled with a bunch of 60-year olds and us, but it was one of the most enjoyable concerts I have ever been to. Mr King, of course, sang the below song, which is a wonderful antidote for grey and gloomy day.
For a few minutes, even I can pretend that the space under the boardwalk is NOT filled with broken glass, used prophylactic devices, and needles. It's a respite from the hot sun and, apparently, a great spot for dancing with my baby.
That's-a-where I wanna be...
Monday, November 28, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
The Happy Song Project
In the car this morning, Ben asked me to put some music on. He wanted a "happy song." I asked him to clarify. He did.
"Don't play that sad music that made you all sleepy last night. Remember? You didn't want to get out of the car."
Someone's not a Pink Floyd fan. That's cool. I guess Ben doesn't appreciate his mom saying she is going to stay in her warm Grand Caravan forever because she is "comfortably numb." (Did get out of the car- had to drink a lot of caffeine to wake up again, and no- absolutely no illegal drugs were involved. I'm a little offended you asked.)
So, this morning I put my Greatest Hits from the 80's CD into the slot and played the happiest song in the whole world (this is not up for debate): Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves.
It's the perfect Monday morning song.
Ben started listing other "happy songs," which include "Twist and Shout," "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," "Crazy Little Thing Called Love," and "Jingle Bells." As he listed his favorites, I had an idea, and blah blah blah: The Holly Goes Lightly Happy Song Project was born! On Monday mornings, I will bring my favorite ear candy to the blogosphere. This accomplishes two things: 1. It makes sure I publish at least one blog post a week and 2. I can't think of a second thing. I'm sure there is one, though.
The rules for "The Happy Song Project" are as follows:
1. Songs should have either "positive messages," like those After School Specials they showed on TV in the eighties and early nineties, nonsensical fun lyrics, or should just be plain fluffy.
2. Songs should not be in a predominantly minor key. (Exceptions include "Happy Together" by the Turtles and "And I Love Her," by The Beatles.)
3. "Manic Monday" by The Bangles is disallowed. So is any song by The Black Eyed Peas.
Requests gladly accepted.
This week's "happy song" was selected in honor of the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. Enjoy the dulcet tones of Ms. Natalie Merchant. And happy Monday!
"Don't play that sad music that made you all sleepy last night. Remember? You didn't want to get out of the car."
Someone's not a Pink Floyd fan. That's cool. I guess Ben doesn't appreciate his mom saying she is going to stay in her warm Grand Caravan forever because she is "comfortably numb." (Did get out of the car- had to drink a lot of caffeine to wake up again, and no- absolutely no illegal drugs were involved. I'm a little offended you asked.)
So, this morning I put my Greatest Hits from the 80's CD into the slot and played the happiest song in the whole world (this is not up for debate): Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves.
It's the perfect Monday morning song.
Ben started listing other "happy songs," which include "Twist and Shout," "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," "Crazy Little Thing Called Love," and "Jingle Bells." As he listed his favorites, I had an idea, and blah blah blah: The Holly Goes Lightly Happy Song Project was born! On Monday mornings, I will bring my favorite ear candy to the blogosphere. This accomplishes two things: 1. It makes sure I publish at least one blog post a week and 2. I can't think of a second thing. I'm sure there is one, though.
The rules for "The Happy Song Project" are as follows:
1. Songs should have either "positive messages," like those After School Specials they showed on TV in the eighties and early nineties, nonsensical fun lyrics, or should just be plain fluffy.
2. Songs should not be in a predominantly minor key. (Exceptions include "Happy Together" by the Turtles and "And I Love Her," by The Beatles.)
3. "Manic Monday" by The Bangles is disallowed. So is any song by The Black Eyed Peas.
Requests gladly accepted.
This week's "happy song" was selected in honor of the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. Enjoy the dulcet tones of Ms. Natalie Merchant. And happy Monday!
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