Three things from DAH.

DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. If I'm full of anything it should be myself.  

First up this week, Kicky …  
I understand kicky and actually use the word, but only when commenting on clothing, shoes in particular. Kicky, for me, means fun and edgy. And I mean it to be complimentary. So, could I use it beyond the wardrobe? Should I? I have friends I might describe as kicky. Phone apps and television shows? Yes. Books, certainly. Merriam-Webster reports first usage of kicky in 1942 … it's a WWII-era coinage. That dictionary also offers examples using kicky to describe experiences (bungy jumping) and music (background for an animated chase scene). I think I'm underusing the word. So long as the thrills are positive things, excitingly fashionable, I'm going to find much more kicky.
excitingly fashionable chaos and complexity (Terry Pratchett quote)

Second up this week, Kindness …  
"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," that's the Golden Rule. That's the rule my parents made central to my growing up. My Mum used to build from it using real examples from my life. The Golden Rule "asks you to look into your own heart, discover what gives you pain, and then refuse under any circumstance whatsoever to inflict that pain on anyone else" (Karen Armstrong, quoted in the NPR piece linked below). I try to set ego and irritation aside. My objective is to live kinder. It's too easy to backslide into a judging place, but when I do backslide I feel grimy. I advise, for myself, at least, more kindness and a concomitant clearer conscience. 
Twelve Concrete Ways To Live A 'Compassionate Life'

Third up this week, Kissing …  
Just a kiss of oak, that's what our pleasant (but not kicky) Chardonnay offered yesterday evening. Not a whisper of wood? No, that would be sly and stealthy, sneaky. And happily not the over-the-top-with-the-barrels style of Chard: a sloppy wet smooch of new oak … kicky, maybe for some, but not for me. So, a kiss is a good thing? How do we understand a good kiss from a sorry snog? "Kissing is like a dance," says Zoë Kors , an intimacy expert (self-proclaimed, I expect). A dance … shared? I like that. It suggests music, delicacy and balance, intimacy and arousal. Of course, I'm speaking of wine. Of course, I am. Now, perhaps, another sip of wine, a nip best shared.
"Kiss Me" Sixpence None The Richer

And a bit more:

To Dorothy, by Marvin Bell

You are not beautiful, exactly.
You are beautiful, inexactly.
You let a weed grow by the mulberry
and a mulberry grow by the house.
So close, in the personal quiet
of a windy night, it brushes the wall
and sweeps away the day till we sleep.

A child said it, and it seemed true:
"Things that are lost are all equal."
But it isn't true. If I lost you,
the air wouldn't move, nor the tree grow.
Someone would pull the weed, my flower.
The quiet wouldn't be yours. If I lost you,
I'd have to ask the grass to let me sleep.

And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver’s poem Sometimes …  

Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it. 

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