Remember the entry from January "Everyone should own a hammock swing," and the more recent, "Snapped out of it?" Well this is hopefully the finale--an end of a great trilogy of backs and forth's. I grabbed a little bit of money and bought myself a new swing. I had a horrible gaping hole in my chest from the last "Fall out." It is the kind of ache that can only be patched by feeling once again the thrill of being "Weightless as a mouse fart." Well, I know now that this cannot be, at least not entirely. One must remember Newton's laws before attempting weightlessness. So, for round two, I changed a few things. First, I bought a hammock that was made out of nylon, not cotton--more sturdy for Ms. Purdy. Second, I found one that had a weight limit 100 pounds above the last. Third, I let it hang only two inches above the ground so the next fall (knock knock on wood) wouldn't break my butt. And finally, I decided to follow the warnings, "Do not spin or swing on this chair!" Isn't she a beauty?--looks much more expensive than reality, but that is all I am going to say about the price. I don't want to talk down to her and jeopardize her confidence in holding me for many weeks to come. What has become of me? I have only had the thing two days and I am already personifying it like a creepy mechanic who tunes up a 56' Chevy, pets it daily with a greasy rag and calls it "Veronica." My dear husband saw it, quipped about how we shouldn't buy such things, plopped in, and the hammock cradled his doubts slowly to sleep, HA! Anyway, the second time around I must eat my words--I am not weightless as a mouse fart. Instead I will say I am weightless as a large bowling ball dangling in a in a very secure harness from a branch of a tree. "Why would anyone hang a bowling ball in a harness from a tree?" I don't know, but then, why would big girl like me sit in another hammock after splitting on the pavement? I get it bowling ball, I get it. Just let the breeze take you away, and I will do the same.