Fred and Ginger have *nothing* to worry about (except maybe getting knocked over...)

well, it's Valentines Day.

not being Catholic, nor a pawns of the greetings card industry, we don't "do" VD.  what we did do, however, was go to a Valentines dance.  yep, that's right - last night was our first proper dance, six weeks or so after beginning to learn how to do it properly.  well...  depending on the occasion, of course.  i've been shaking my booty on dancefloors for many a year but, as you know, we've been learning the more formal version.  specificaly the quickstep and the waltz, so far.  foxtrot lessons start tomorrow.  :)

N.B. hubby's a little apprehensive about this, but i'm looking forward to it.  just the name of it makes me smile, imagining woodland creatures galloping up and down kicking leaf litter about...

aaanyway, our ballroom class instructors run a lesson and dance on sunday nights at the Rolls Royce Pavillion in Derby, and we decided to amble on along, to see what it was like.  last night was themed along the lines of VD, of course, but i got the impression that it wasn't much different from what normally goes on. 

 this is the sight that greeted us as we walked in.  a little early, rather than to everyone canoodling under the tables, as someone on Twitter suggested (i'm looking at you, @twiteryeanot).  as we sat there looking around, hubby and i had the same thought.  my mum and dad and, indeed, my much-missed nana and grandad, would perhaps have had the same view, once upon a time.  about half of my immediate family, being almost solely from Derby, were employed by Rolls Royce at one time or another.  mum and dad met there, when mum was 15 and dad was 19. 

as it turns out, they wouldn't have had quite this view, since the building we were in had been built long after they had both left for pastures new (or South Africa as it's more usually known - they emigrated for three years not long after they were married, but that's another story)

nontheless, the sense of family and history was quite tangible, and sort of comforthing.

the evening started with a slight departure from the norm.  usually, there'll be, as i mentioned, a regular lesson for an hour, and then the dancefloor is opened up for dancing and practicing.  in honour of VD, however, last night's lesson was in how to smooch decorously.  it was interesting, and entertaining.  i had no idea there was so much involved in dancing on the spot... *grin*

 hubby had a haircut especially for the occasion.  it's shorter than i've ever seen it, but it suits him rather well, i think.  and it will be more of a shaggy mop by the time we go to france.  that's his plan, anyway...

following the lesson, we retired to the sidelines to watch as those braver / more experienced souls present began to strut their stuff.  and i disappeared to the ladies' to ensure i was still gorgeous....

...yep...  ;)

so we sat around for a while, marvelling at the skill of some of those present.  seriously - i wish i'd taken video of one particular couple (i didn't as it seemed impolite, somehow).  they were astonishing!  every single dance, no matter what it was, they kicked. its. ass.  and my gods, were they having a good time doing it!  

eventually, however, i persuaded hubby that since we were here, it might be nice to have a dance.  i was raring to go, but he was a little reluctant.  understandable, really.  having done it for most of my life, i'm somewhat better at making a fool of myself.

it was a waltz.

it was a disaster.

we were both a little flustered, and either one or the other would add an extra step, or forget one (i freely admit it was mostly my fault, BTW).  not long after i tripped over the stage (!), the instructor (who was playing DJ for the night), jumped in, and danced a figure or two with me, reminding me to stamp my feet to keep time.

it didn't work too well, i have to say.  fortunately, the song ended not long after, and we beat a hasty retreat.

i made another trip to the loo, and got lost in the warren of corridors and little rooms in the building.  i happened upon a teenyweeny little dancefloor in a deserted side room, and quickly went and grabbed hubby for a private practice to restore our confidence.

it worked.

the second dance we stood up for, a quickstep, went much, much better.  we still cocked it up, of course, but this time, we didn't really mind, and there was a fair bit of laughter.  this evening, hubby remarked that it's much easier to dance in public when it's more structured, since everyone who's ever learned to dance like this is aware that one has to learn, and one will make mistakes (or "variations", as our instructor calls them...)  when one's dancing freestyle, as in a club, etc, it's much easier to look a tit, because everyone knows that everything comes from you and you alone - there is no outside structure imposed - and any mistakes or idiocies are entirely one's own.

it was lovely.

i was at a dance, and my man was whisking me around the dance floor, and  i was happy and in love.  :)

the rest of the evening passed in relaxed good humour, and i am so very, very proud of both of us.

i can't wait to go again!  :)

.

30 Day blog challenge: Days 07 & 08 - cheating a little.

i'm going to stand up and proclam right now that i'm going to cheat.  day 07 was supposed to be a photo that makes you happy, and day 08 was supposed to be a photo that makes you angry or sad.  there's a couple of problems here. 

firstly, last night was mostly a cuddling-wih-hubby-and-kitty-in-front-of-the-telly night.  Friday of the first week back after christmas, an we were both fairly buggered and feeling snuggly, so i decided to give blogging a miss for the night.  i'm allowed to do that, right?  i just committed myself to doing two posts today. 

and then i realised that no matter how much i racked my brains, i couldn't come up with a photo that makes me angry or sad.  this is probably down to deeply ingrained habits of Black Dog avoidance.  i tend to blank out stuff like this.  so, y'know, just insert pics of abused animals and people, facist pride marches, tabloid front pages, &c, &c, and you'll get the idea.  i refuse to go searching for this shit, and if you want to, that's your bag.

so on to the happy pic.  there are many photos in my library that make me happy, but i guess i only get to pick one.  the winner is one that follows on (sort of) from the reason my last post was as it was, and has never actually been in my electronic archive, since i wasn't a member of the body electric when t was taken. the only reason i can post it here is that i used it to test my scanner one day (which is currently packed away, and i'm not of a mind to go rumaging)

as you may remember, two days ago was our wedding anniversary.  but that was just the day when we signed the bit of paper which the law recgnises as making us married, and it was just us and two friends as witnesses.  the really important day in a spiritual sense came six months later, on june 19th, 2005.   that was the day we were handfasted in our local woods, by a lake, surrounded by friends and family.  handfasting, by the way, is a Pagan wedding ceremony.  now, hubby and i are both athiests, but we both revere nature, and find all the wonder in the cosmos that we could possibly wish for, without the intervention of imaginary friends.  so i guess you might call us athiests wth Pagan leanings, if you wished to label us.

this was taken at the point in the ceremony when we were literally handfasted.  Martin the priest has just wrapped a plaited ribbon around our hands to symbolise our being bound together in love.  behind hubby's shoulder you can see The Most Wonderful Woman In The World, representing the element of water.

the thing that makes me happiest about this photo, apart from all the beautiful memories of the best day of my life, is the look on hubby's face.

whatever works for you

there's been quite a few retweets of this link on the all-conquering twitter just recently.  it's an entertaining read, not least because a lot of the writers seem to contradict each other, or there are exceptions cited for each rule, or other discrepancies.  now, maybe i didn't read it carefully enough, but it seemed to me that there were few agreements on what you definitely should or should not do to produce good writing, whether novel, short story or shopping list.  and it seemed to confirm something i've always felt about creative endeavour in general.  everyone is different, everyone creates what they do from, ultimately, the inside of their own head.  and the inside of every single person's head is sooo different, there's no way anyone can write hard-and-fast rules that everyone should follow.  or maybe that's just the way i write?  i'll always look at this sort of thing, if only because, somewhere in there, ther may just be a shining nugget of truth in there, amongst the other stuff (which i won't call dross, 'coz it ain't - just doesn't work for me. "You tell me your truth, and i'll tell you mine"...).  seriously, you can take advice until the cows come home, but then you have to filter it through what works for you.  try it, of course, but don't be disappointed or surprised if it doesn't.  stay open.  to incomings and outgiongs both.  be prepared to let stuff go if it doesn't work for you.  always stay open.
anyway - stating the obvious as usual.  sorry

the much-abused isobel is still with the garage.  no idea what stage she's at, as she'll be done when she's done, and there's NO WAY ON EARTH that we're going to do anything that could be perceived as putting any kind of pressure on to those that are fixing the hash they made the first time.  such as phoning for an update. 
*deep breath* *lets it out sowly* 
patience, Squeaky, all will be well.

been utterly shattered again this week.  the internal alarm clock is still WAY out, (gaah!).  also, i've been doing this STUPID thing at work which i just haven't got the energy to rant about and, anyway, why bother?  it is a feature of my workplace that some overpaid wanker will be drafted in to "improve the business" (n.b. it's not a business, ok? - that's just crappy management speak), and will reccommend the removal of a working system and replacement of said sysstem by something that...well...doesn't. 

oops - rant-avoidance fail.  oh well, at least it was only a little one, eh? *grin*

mind you, i've had a very restful day today.  no mad typing marathons, and managed to stay in bed and doze until a proper, proper saturday morning time (i.e. 10:30-ish - not managed that for weeks).  then, we went out and spent quite a lot of money (retail therapy - yeah!)
to begin with, we bought a new shower,as the one we have is probably 25 - 30 years old, and it's given its all.    it is knackered, bolloxed, and utterly, utterly kaput.  it is an ex-shower.  it's never been exactly red-hot in cold weather, but this winter? 
ok, i'm a wuss.  i admit it.  i love my Lushy showers, but i absolutely draw the line at lukewarm showers in winter.  when it's cold outside, i want heat!  i want steam, dammit!  i want the bathroom to be so full of steam that i can't see the door by the time i've finished! 
so - guess what hubby's doing tomorrow? 
and guess what i'm doing as soon as he's finished? 
oh, gods, i'm sooo looking forward to a properly hot shower.  i don't think i've had one since the autumn.
oh, YES!!!  damn me, those lovely Lushy things are gonna get some hammer, i can tell you! ^_^

ahem.  sorry.

anyway - the other drain on the wallet was a new toy for hubby. 
he loves his PS2.  he loved his PS as well.  but, of course, there's a new one out these days.  now, he's quite prepared to wait until his PS2 kicks the bucket before he upgrades, but, well... 
see, there's this game that my stepchildren brought round when they came to stay for a couple of days last christmas.  now, The Tribe are - or can be - EXTREMELY argumentative, and drive us completely insane with alarming frequency.  especially when they are all three together, with us, in our teeny weeny living room.  everyone gets under everyone else's feet, and on everyone else's nerves.  i don't mind admitting it, i was dreading the christmas visit. 
but the game. 
the game saved us. 
i have never, i mean NEVER, had such fun for such a sustained length of time with all three of 'em.  in fourteen years.  i swear (frequently, actually, but that's not what i meant), there wasn't a cross word spoken, like, all weekend. 
it was like i'd wandered into somebody else's family.
this game was that Beatles Rock Band thingy.  there were all the instruments and what have you, and all these songs that are like a part of the fabric of the family (since we are both big fans, we've played them all of the kids' lives - they know them almost as well as we do).  and everyone played the instruments, and a jolly good time was had by all.
now, everyone wanted to play the drums (i won't say everyone wanted to be Ringo, because, let's face it - hes a bit of an arse, innit?).  but everyone (wait for it...) TOOK TURNS!!!
*faints*
seriously - this just doesn't happen amongst The Tribe (despite the fact that they are 16, 18 and 20). 
ever since, hubby has, every now and again, been pretending to play the drums, and (i know the look in his eye) thought wistfully of the day his PS2 finally cacks it and he gets to - with a clear conscience - go spend lots of money on a shiny new console and game.
*sigh* 
i've been trying to persuade him that he really doesn't need to wait if he waaannnttssssss it, preciousssssss.  and boy, does he want it!  so, that was what else we spent lots of money on today.  and that's just fine by me.

and now he's repeatedly draping my newly darned self-knitted socks (ah'm sooooo proud of mah old skool skillz!) over my head so i can't see the screen.  excuse me whilst i go and explain, pointedly, why he should stop....