A lot of men can't dance—either because they are uncoordinated or self-conscious. Or both. Some do dance but not very well. They are stiff and/or unoriginal. But hey, more power to them—at least they are out there trying. Then there are professional dancers who are highly skilled athletes. But that gets old after a while as it looks so choreographed.
Then there are the naturals. These guys got the moves. They shake and groove effortlessly—like butterflies fluttering across the sky.
I am a delusion buster. Whenever I can, I tear down illusions and pull apart delusions. Why? Because I am a rationalist—a natural skeptic. I think it is due to both genetics and environment. My mom is also pragmatic. She is my significant role model.
As a parent, there is a fine line between being a delusion buster and being a dream crusher. One doesn't want to stifle her child's imagination—only keep it grounded in reality. You want your kid to express his/her creativity and have
Waiting for my tomatoes to turn red is like watching paint dry—it seems to be taking forever. Sid has over thirty tomatoes. Penny has over forty. I can't even count them all. I've tried but I lose track. There are so many clustered together. But they are all green. Some are quite large. Looks like they are full size. As soon as they start to get a little orangeish at the bottom they are good to go. It usually takes about seven days for them to fully ripen on the vine once they start.