Cheer Up, Gene Kelly.

An American in Paris is playing on the telly right now. Gene Kelly is doing his charming pose: leaning up against a brick wall next to his love, and singing irresistibly to her. Oh, that I could be dancing in his arms next to the river in Paris with the skirt that swishes perfectly, and little kitten high heels that never hurt while I dance. Movies such as these create unrealistic ideals for me, I'm sure.

Judah's birthday was this weekend, the big 8! What made this so very, very exciting was that the entire Parish family was together for almost an entire day. Sarah Emily drove up on Saturday and together, we surprised our family. Such ruckus and dancing hasn't been seen in the Parish home for years. We ate, we laughed, we drained an entire gallon of milk just like the good old days. We all managed to squash ourselves onto our parents' bed, and listen to music. There were hugs, there were fistfights, there were pets leaping everywhere, and there was a Mommy Cake, and a pot of chicken and dumplings that will go down in history. It was a lovely, lovely weekend. 

On the drive to Ethel from Starkville with SE, I had the chance to listen to some of her new music. I was so very proud of her. The cinematic [credit goes to someone else for the brilliant use of the word describing her sound] bars of music swelled up inside of me and gave me the chills as our car swept down the sun drenched highway. I'm lucky to have her as my sister.

This week seems as if it may turn out to be a quiet, relaxed one. That would be very nice.