Many years ago during a visit to Vermont – I was told that when cows were let out of the barn after a long winter they actually frolicked. That was the word used. Frolicked. Not danced, not pranced, not ambled happily in new grass and wild flowers. Frolicked. That conjures up a sight doesn’t it?
The urban dictionary defines ‘frolicking’ as:
“A special dance/movement to be made at any and all occasions and locations. Features kickng the knees up high, tucking the elbows into the sides and waving the hands frantically, some angling of the feet is also advised. Usually done on the spot, but variations can be made, although these aren’t appreciated by many hardcore frolickers. Prancing around like a fool, basically skipping. Ideal for a drunken night out. Also, to go frolicking in a field, skipping around and can link arms with someone and frolick together.”
So – after what feels like a very long and drawn out winter – with Spring a mere 3.5 weeks away – I’m getting ready to frolick – knees high, elbows tucked with waving hands – though I think I’ll pass on the angled feet at my age, ridiculous grin on face, perhaps slightly crazed laughter – ever hopeful in heart …