It's a Winter Wonderland!

One of my very favourite things is walking Little Monster to school in the mornings, especially frosty ones like today.

Throughout the entire mile from home to school it was:



'Wow!'
'Look, mummy!,
'Look at the fence!'
'Look at the tree!'
'Wow!''Look at the horse field!'
'Walk on the grass, mummy!'
'Look at the bin!'
'Wow!'
'It's a winter wonderland!'



She started grinning from the second we passed Jubilee Gardens, where the rising sun had turned the frost covered park into a glittering, magical wonderland. The walk through Cherry Hill was simply marvellous -- I dare the grumpiest of Grinches not to smile in the face of such utter joy. I wish I had taken a decent picture, but I was too busy grinning myself and taking it all in.

Get into the Groove!

My sister came to visit recently -- we hadn't seen each other for about five years -- and upon being asked what I was like when we were younger by my new beau, she immediately said, "Oh, she is far more outgoing than me, she was always on stage when we were at school." Wow. I didn't realise that. She was right: all through school I was either in a play or part of a dance troupe. There wasn't a single year that I didn't perform in something or other. I haven't been on stage since... well, since I left university. I had appeared in front of the camera a few times since then, and been behind a mike, but all that happened before I was 25.

 About a month ago, I decided to join a dance class at 4th Dimension Dance:

"4-D Adults -- learn a routine in 6 weeks! There's a performance at the end but that's optional."

It was intended to be my weekly dose of exercise because I was getting none. I had tried Jazzercise®, Zumba®, Bollywood workouts, BarreConcept® (loved it, but it destroyed me!) maracas fitness (hilarious!) and various aerobics classes, but they were all just a little too exercisey. Maybe it was the repetition. Maybe it was too rigid. Maybe it was all too serious (well, apart from the maracas). In one case, I actually got bored about 30 minutes in. Whatever it was, they didn't really inspire me to do more than one or two classes.

So, 4-D Adults. I turned up about 10 minutes early, with Little Monster in tow. It all seemed normal -- there was a kids class going on and several ladies of about my age and older were milling around outside. I said to Little Monster, See? There are people here with kids too. 

Ahem. Turns out that they were the parents of the kids inside. They all vanished when class ended. Intrigued, I went in, expecting to see people like me.

O.M.F.G.

I had completely forgotten that adults include those who are not quite 21 yet.

Nary a lid was batted, for which I was grateful. I stowed Little Monster away with her Pipity Bag* and just joined in. I was warmly welcomed, so the shock wore off quickly.

The choreographer/lead dancer, Sara Ford, is the personification of bouncy energy. You cannot help but be infected by her sheer joyousness. The woman radiates delight: she is sunshine in a t-shirt and leggings, tripping the light fantastic as if the floor were part-trampoline.

The other dancers were spritely young things, all supple grace and slick co-ordination. They learned so bloody fast too! Whereas my brain was in a constant state of whaaaa? and my body protested at the weird moves I was trying to make it do.

Damn, I had a good time! Best 45 minutes of flinging myself around a dance floor in ages!

I didn't miss a class after that, and tomorrow, I shall be dancing with a small band of merry young women in front of the denizens of Ely at the annual Christmas Lights Switch On shindig.

Not bad for a 40-something desk-jockey.

My stage outfit

*More about that little gem in a later post.

On tenterhooks: grounded... but we are undefeated!

40 minutes of driving in a horrible drizzle, and nervous as heck. Alas, I did not pass the first time. But it was very close, and I do believe if it weren't for nerves, a sore back/leg, and mulchy roads, I would have passed. Damn those Cambridge roundabouts!

Still, I know what I am weak on, so more practice is in store. The weather is perfect for challenging the skills, and I believe I will pass the next time round.

Somewhat reassuringly, everyone else taking the test with me did not pass either.

Thank you all for your kind wishes, I hope you will continue to believe in me -- I'm a bit like a fairy. You keep me going with your kindness.

I will be driving by Christmas!

On tenterhooks: today we see if we can fly

Later today I will take my driving test. Oh yes, at the ripe old age of 43.

This would be the second time, but I count it as a first as the initial try was 22 years ago. I barely remember it and I am a completely different person now. For a start, I am sitting here with a bag of frozen peas against my back, as I seemed to have strained something just because I slept on a different mattress a couple of nights ago. 21 year old me wouldn't have noticed!

Back then, young Sarah was cocky, reckless and easily distracted. Those traits still remain, but they are now tempered greatly by experience. Also, this time round, being able to drive is a hundred times more important. In 1994, travelling involved just me and a backpack. Now, it's me, a backpack and a six year old. A much more complicated proposition.

Back then too, I was in student digs, lived in a city and could catch a ride with friends whenever I wanted. I barely had any possessions, and didn't do big grocery shops. Pretty much everything I wanted was within a half hour's walk. Why I decided to take lessons is a mystery to me now.

As to why I am getting my licence now? The driving need is my commute to work. Getting to the office takes 90 minutes by public transport and only 30 by car. I am unutterably grateful for the lifts I've received but that cannot continue. I love what I'm doing now so getting a job closer to home is a last resort.

Apart from the commute, being able to drive would open up the world for us: we'd be able to get to places that we couldn't go to because it would take too long by train or we actually can't get to by other means. Forests, beaches and strange places with intriguing names we've only ever seen on a map. We'd be able to visit folk in far away places! By golly, the places we'd go, the things we'd do!

Wish me luck, friends!