….and thought of me.
Yes, when I was tiny I had dreams of being a dancer. I used to practice my dance moves around the house, didn’t we all? Bouncing on the sofa gave my allegros extra spring; the polished parquet floor made me glide like a swan across a lake, and the nylon nets could be ripped down to make a fetching fairy gown.
The towel rail in the bathroom, complete with fluffy white towels, was my own personal ballet barre where I would practice tendus, ronde de jambes, and some frivolous frappés. I would round off my routine with a couple of grand pliés – meaning that I would bend my knees and sink down to the floor whilst keeping a firm grasp of the towel rail… indeed, my grasp was so firm that one day I found myself carrying the towel rail, complete with fluffy white towels, down the stairs and into the living room to explain to my parents how the towel rail had inexplicably detached itself from the wall. My parents were not impressed, nor surprised, as the previous week I had fallen out of the shower taking the shower curtain with me.
Anyhow, enough with the jolly nostalgia, this week I have been pitching for the BBC weather forecast contract. So far I have impressed them with my age, experience, and traditional methods, which include Tarot card reading; an in-depth knowledge of what ladybirds do when there is a snowstorm brewing and, by looking out of the window and sniffing the air. I am aiming to charge them £50 a week – they are umming and ahhing about this as Charmaine is also pitching, she says that when the weather is inclement her nibs perform differently, to quote – ‘they go proper stiff’, and she is willing to demonstrate this by flashing them every evening on tea time telly for only £30 a week and six million extra viewers.
Next week: Charmaine does something interesting with a box of crayons [again] and Aunt Scarlet gets a tattoo….
I never dreamed of ballet fame, but I just about wobbled all our door knobs off with my rock n roll routine. And I don’t think Daddy was very happy when I practised my tap dancing on the polished floor…
Perhaps you’ll get a dinky little ballerina tattoo on your derriere?
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Dinah – I have a vague recollection of a whole door falling off… anyhow, oh yes, I was going to be a ballet dancer, then I wanted to be a dancer with the BBC’s Young Generation Dance Troupe!
Yes… about that tattoo… I have finally decided what it’s going to say. Quite obvious to me now 🙂
Sx
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Tarot Card weather forecasting has got to be an improvement on whatever they’re using to guess the weather now!
Dance? I’m just waiting for a venue!
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…and I am looking for a partner, Mr Lax…
My Tarot cards are suggesting an El Nino Winter…. maybe cold and dry come December.
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I’ll do a pas de deux with you as long as there is no lifting involved. I’m a very good twirler.
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Grouchy Dearest – who needs a lift when you can have a twirl???
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I did plenty of dancing when I was young, but not the classical kind, more the flailing-limbs sixties disco variety. I could never get excited about Swan Lake or Sleeping Beauty.
I’m sure your weather forecasts would be just as accurate, or inaccurate, as the Met Office. I wonder what would clinch the contract? Dumbed-down language seems to be the key nowadays. “Funny old bits of rain everywhere”,”the sun’s really pulling the stops out”. That sort of stuff.
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Nick – Yeah, the ‘funny bits of rain’ speak was actually MY IDEA!!!!
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Perhaps we could come up with a spell for a magic tattoo, one that forecasts the weather? I’m sure this would give you the edge over Charmaine’s stiff nibs.
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Yes, Mr Devine!!! A tattoo that writes itself!! A very clever idea. Please forward the spell to me as soon as you’ve tested it.
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For some strange unexplainable reason my elderly Great Aunt Alice 92, calls John Lewis’ “Winsor Davies” “Oh I see you’ve been to Winsor Davies” quoth Alice. “Yes, I have” quoth I. Daft as a brush.
I watched this advert the other night. “Tiny Dancer! oh the irony” quoth Carmen chuckling at the clumsy fat lass. “Yes, the irony” quoth I, looking at Carmen’s 17 stone bulk. I smiled sagely.
“Life is a bowl of withered fruit, with a stone in everyone” wouldn’t that make a great slogan for a tattoo? Perhaps accompanied with a picture of Morrison’s ‘Market Street’ fruit stall with flies buzzing around it. Are you tempted?
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Awwwww… poor tiny dancer…. I was also an ugly duckling, but look at me now!! Tripping through the cowpats in my size 9 wellies…
Anyhow, I am quite liking the withered fruit bowl analogy, I will file it as worthy of consideration.
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My daughter did the exact same thing. Yanked the towel rail right out of the wall. She mistook it for a pull-up bar. You girls are so silly.
The size of your tattoo will have a direct proportional value to the size of the regret you’ll feel years down the road.
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M. Pain – no worries, I will have several temporary tattoos before I commit.
Your daughter has great things ahead of her! She is obviously resourceful.
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I did not want to be a dancer, this did not occur to me. As a child I wanted to go unseen, to slip away, like going into the woods and melting with the background, moving silently. Later, after we had moved to the city, I loved exploring backyards, paths, going places unseen, unnoticed. I liked to follow people unnoticed, but never knew whether I was successful.
I like the girl, she takes it serious. Nothing breaks, why should it ? And if so – I’d be concerned about the shards, but would not think about an insurance – what a silly concept it is in the end.
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I will be keeping a close eye out for you now, Mr Mags, your accent and espadrilles may give you away.
Er…. have you ever noticed the tall bloke who follows you everywhere?
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Nnno … where is he – quick !?
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I’ve polished a few dance moves in my time and have a few items of broken furniture and reputation to prove it. More worryingly, I have also pitched for the weather forecasting job, and promised to supply my own wardrobe, all ironed to court room standards.
My method of forecasting is to look out of the window and either say “It look like rain” or, if its sunny, “Looks pretty sunny here” For forecasts “Up North” I would give the same forecast but with the cautionary words, “But a but colder obviously” and for further south or in exotic Europe, “No rain, and don’t bother to pack the jumper.” I’ve pitched my services at £ 70 a week, so, with your combined ballet and forecasting prowess, I suspect you’ll snatch this opportunity from under my nose. Blast !
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Oh Peter, I am so sorry to steal this opportunity from you, but I think you overdid it with the wardrobe… a lack of wardrobe seems to be the way to go… even if it is freezing.
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You were a real danger in the bathroom.
I find that people lie about the weather all the time. Saying they enjoy 4 seasons – that’s bull. 4 seasons only makes you want the 2 good ones more.
Oh I can’t dance and wonder if I can blog sometimes. I started a blog called I Can’t Blog – don’t have much on it. Just a bit of trivia – the header uses a picture I took at a London art gallery. http://blogicant.blogspot.com/
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Bill – Do you think you are being a little negative???? You can can!! Now that’s an easy dance.
We have 2 seasons in the UK – The rainy season and The less rainy season.
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Maybe we could pitch ourselves as a double act for that weather gig Scarls? xx
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Ms Prosser – With your illustrating and my Tarot cards we could be made for life. I’ll put your name on the application form.
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Ballet was expected of me. That’s as much as I’m prepared to say on the subject.
Perhaps putting tassels on your nibs would help you land the job?
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Ms Roses – You are a secret ballerina????!!! I wanted all the gear… a leotard, a tutu, pointed shoes…. but it was never to be. All my dreams came to nothing and I was signed up for horse riding lessons instead 😦
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It’s all right.
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Well… let’s not go that far, Mr Mags!!
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