There are some days, many that I had within the bookends of this year, where we feel like we are held together by string and other people and some days we know that if none of that was there we could still find something to laugh about.
When we were walking into the hospital to visit Maddie after she got hot-tub folliculitis we had a cooler full of beer and wine to watch The Bachelorette and the whole thing tipped, ice and Pacificos clambering on the Purell soaked floors, right in front of the security guard and we all just started laughing hysterically.
So here we are, on the eve of a year with a lucky seven, with so many feelings and hopes and plans and spill-able drinks. When I was out surfing I thought about how life kind of ends up seasoning us like a wok or a cast-iron skillet.
And then I think: life will always be exactly as good as it is now, only more so.