Knock, Knock

The blog post I had planned for today was depressing. A little something I wrote after several hours of crying kids, undone laundry and a serious, nearly week long case of the mean reds. It was whiney and unoriginal. I may have used the phrase, "paralyzing frustration."

Yuck.

I was in the midst of my masterpiece of misery when I heard a knock on the door. I put my computer down and slumped my way across the room. It was Alison, my neighbor, friend and blogger extraordinaire.  She was smiling. There was a project and she needed help. Would I mind putting on some lipstick and lending a hand? Alison is one of those girls that has enthusiasm shooting from her fingertips. She has a halo of energy glowing about her Saint of all Crafts head. And when that blonde firecracker asks you to do something it is nearly impossible to say, "no." So I put on a dress and went over to her house. For an hour we worked on a neon rainbow video shoot. The evening was rich with confetti, blush and bashful signage and pizza for all. I came home with a smile.

Happy me woke up today with two objectives.

1. Watch yesterdays production as many times as it takes to learn Alison's amazing dance moves. There is magic distilled into her ability to cut a rug. It will be available for viewing oh so soon.

2. Knock on someone's door. Make them feel needed. Help them to smile. If there is confetti involved, then all the better.