Have you caught it? You know, Olympic fever.
That marvelous illness that makes us want to set a timer when we run to the mailbox. Awesome. I obliterated my last time by four seconds. Bam.
I’m completely hooked. Yesterday I jumped from our front porch swing and stuck the landing.
Even my 2 ½ -year-old grandson jumps around “competing,” then stops and places his hand over his heart. I guess it’s never too early to practice your victorious national anthem stance. Continue reading