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My youngest daughter is a passionate dancer. She is often seen dragging a costume dress fashioned with tulle and following me around the apartment. “Help me mama”.

Right after she’s dressed, she holds my hand and leads me to our stereo station in the dinning room. “Music!” is yelled with an up and down jump to accompany her enthusiasm. This scene takes place on any unoccupied pocket of time my youngest finds during her day and/or night.

So it was especially fascinating for her to attend a fancy party at school (The Frosty Ball) with a real DJ parent (thirty years retired, and so was the music which made the whole thing more hilarious. My girls rocked to the Macarena! amongst other infamous songs from the decade and the two decades before that… Hi larious I’m telling you!)

Leaving the party we were greeted with showers of fat snow flakes falling like feathers on the already dusted grounds. These shots were snapped from our window the next morning.

and this morning Mei spotted green bulbs pushing out the ground. Crazy!



About Muslim Hippie

Hello and welcome, you have landed yourself on this virtual space designed by your humble servant to try and escape life's unpleasantness through: selective memory musings, snippets of the world that surrounds me, and occasional insights when the light blub in this strange brain of mine flickers. No real names are displayed I'm afraid, why bother?

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