THE-LAND-OF-BELLY-LAUGHTER

THE-LAND-OF-BELLY-LAUGHTER. Laughing loudly gut splitting huge drum bass pounding shouts of deep gutful belly laughter, as the Three Little Pigs who are made of pork tenderloin have their houses blown down by The Big Bad Wolf.

Gusts of hurricane winds becoming tsunamis, tidal waves covering blown out beaches with sand flying everywhere, sand blowing into the beds scratching the skin.

Good to laugh and to laugh aloud, laughing harder and harder louder and louder as your house is made of brick, yellow bricks made of clay and straw, one brick over the other, the Little Pigs scurry into their houses as the winds flurry around.

Tornadoes, windstorms, snowstorms, owning your own little house and being thrown about like Dorothy in The Land of OZ.

Laughing louder than the winds, slipped up in a spill on a banana peal and landing on your feet upright unscathed, doing gymnastics.

Deep laughter, hysterical laughter, not worrying about where your next penny is coming from, not worrying about your next meal, the funny sounds of laughter drowning out all worries, not working in the morning.

Shabbat is on its way, it will be here tonight and tomorrow rain or snow or shine, whether there is wind or not, to chase the boogie man away, candles lighted and ghosts will disappear.

Shabbat, a land of rest, rejoicing, great unbridled laughter, happiness, wonderfulness, incredibleness, brilliance, terrific-ness, fun.

Shabbat Shalom.