Why Does It Feel So Good To Be Rocked?

by Joy Monger

I impulse purchased a handmade hammock (oooooh! It’s so stringy!)  in Mexico and then carried it around the Houston airport for two days while stranded on our way back to Denver.

No toothbrush. No clean underwear. One giant blue hammock.

And then to add insult to injury the hammock sat for two months in my shed taunting my inability to tie strong knots.

Lucky me when a good friend came over this weekend who is not only an excellent knot maker but also tall!  He helped hang the hammock and then tested it out for the remainder of the afternoon (to the victor goes the spoils!).

We even fashioned a nice staff to push  and make the hammock rock and also grab beers while resting and rocking. It’s the single gal’s version of a cabana boy.

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