Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Sisters, Sisters...never were there such a pair of sisters...

sisters, sisters...
16 October 2014

Dear Martha,

Your letter pulled me from a pit of despair.  If ever there were awards for "Surviving Multiple Plethora of Childhood Illnesses", I would be inducted into the Hall of Matriarchal Fame.

The triplets have developed a chain of cursed plagues:  Influenza, chicken pox (despite the vaccine), strep throat, ear infections, and worms (?).

Is this God's thunderbolt of retribution for swearing during Mass?  Loudly swearing at Clarisse-the-She-Devil, the mistress of of insubordination?

As you know, my house was never a museum, but now a City Inspector would cover the house with "Condemned" yellow tape.

Must go. Alex-the-Spontaneous is vomiting on the cat. Christopher-the-Wild is smearing the vomit on the bathroom mirror.

Your sister,

Mary-the-Desperate 


Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio - Martha and Mary Magdalene - WGA04101.jpg
Source: Wikipedia
"May thanks to Delores at Under the Porch Light for providing the six words (above, underlined) with which to wrestle and write.  Delores is awesome and such a joy!" This was written some time ago, and since then Delores has had a falling out with her computer.  Other bloggers have jumped in to provide new words each week.  August words are being provided by Hannahbananaface for the month of August.



The underlined words were provided by Delores on October 14, 2014; that post is being re-posted.  We are moving, but it just doesn't feel right to not post,..

Monday, July 25, 2016

Dance Forever

Language of music
As you may or may not know, Irish Dance is a huge part of our lives; our goal is to be involved, part of our grand-daughters' lives.  Lily and Clara have been taking lessons for years, participating in wild Irish dance competitions, known as a Fe'is (fesh).

When our girls were only five, they wore the school uniform for beginning dancers, a white blouse and blue kilt. Most of the time white blouses were partially tucked in and kilt sagged down beneath child tummies.

So proud, they were so proud and so eager.  Little girls were lined up, feet almost in the right position.  Clara picked her nose a few times and Lily sent a smile that lit up our world. There was always a red head giggling and pinching girls next to her.

Now, years later--maybe six years later--each stands with feet "turned out", posture straight and hands tucked it.  White blouse and blue kilt have evolved through an official school uniform ($350) for novice dancers, with hard shoes (same price).

Then their costumes became elegant, enough for a princess.  Some uniforms became hideous in day-glow colors.  But OUR girls has a mother who can sew up a storm.

Lily still glows with her smile, now with braces.  Clara no longer picks her nose while in line, and believe me, we watch for that.

It is an amazing experience to be surrounded by talented dancers and Irish music. Other little girls evolved as well, into Champion dancers. Those young ladies fly through the air, truly fly.  Long legs make impossibly high kicks, while long hair follows music and dance.

What happens after High School, after most dancers leave to pursue careers somewhere, doing something? Will they still dance?  Will they teach other little children in blue and white?

Without us all knowing, these talented dancers now teach school or are doctors.  But, Irish dance is never packed away in a closet, forgotten.

From YouTube entitled "UPS Driver gets jiggy after receiving a gift.

Where did he study dance?  When did he study dance? He remembers the steps and such!

Here is another example.  In Ireland at a wedding reception, clearing the floor for dancing takes on new meaning.  



Groom and his guests (all ages) dance.  Obviously there's a ringer.

Other young adults join a dance team, and appear at Dublin Airport.

A flash mob in Dublin Airport from a dance troupe, "Take the Floor."

Feet never forget, legs perform the impossible, and a doctor becomes a dancer once again. We hope this for Lily and Clara.





Friday, July 22, 2016

1979 with Fleetwood Mac and Tusk

New Year's Eve Ball dropping in Times Square:
pinterest.com

Being able to dance is a wonderful.  Being able to dance skillfully and gracefully is truly a gift.  

Manzanita used her skill and love of dancing for the 2013 A-to-Z Blogfest.  Every day she shared a new dance and her experiences.  They were marvelous.

For one whose dreams alone allow me to dance, I confess that I am rhythmically impaired.  Two steps and I am lost.

But that does not take away the joy of dancing, of watching dancing.  The best dance ever done took place on New Year’s Eve, 1979. 

Our daughter was about 4 ½ and our son “Johnny” had just turned one.  We always threw a ‘big’ party with our small children on that day.  We let them stay up until almost 10 PM and eat all manner of party foods.  We put on our favorite music albums and artists, cranked the music up loud, and we danced.  We danced all over the house.

It was the Fleetwood Mac album when the real dance began. 


Fleetwood Mac in 1979, YouTube

While still not too steady on his feet and clothed in a simple diaper, Johnny was stunned by “Tusk”.  He held onto the coffee table, and he danced.  And boy, did he dance!  Perfect rhythm, into the music, shaking his head, singing as only a toddler can!


When the  sorta-free form drum solo kicked in, he stopped and waited for it to be over.  Then the music started again.  And Johnny broke into dance.

I have never looked at dancing the same.  And I still like the Tusk album.


Live, 2004 from YouTube

This is a re-post of November 6, 2013.  We are in the throes of packing and moving.  I hope you enjoy this re-post and leave a comment, but I can't make my own response.  Party on!