“Earth laughs in flowers.”
Emerson, in case anybody cares.
I’d been kicking around the idea of taking a ballroom dancing class. I’ve always wanted to learn to dance properly. The course I was considering is being taught at a local high school. Deadline to enroll is this week. This is one of the few courses I’ve come across in ballroom dancing where you don’t need to bring a partner, which is why I was considering it.
I mentioned to the Socialist that I was considering taking the course, and his immediate response was, “Why? I don’t/won’t dance.” Now, I honestly don’t remember if he said don’t or won’t, but it doesn’t matter. In this case, intention is everything, and intention was perfectly clear here. I retorted that I knew that, but it shouldn’t stop me from learning if I wanted to.
Now I knew he won’t dance. It’s been my misfortune to never be associated with a man who was willing to dance. That’s why I don’t dance. As I said, one of the reasons I was considering this class is because I didn’t need to drag him along to it.
I feel like I should take the class without regard to future availability of lack of dance partners. But to be honest, taking that class is the moral equivalent of learning to knit mittens when you live on the equator. I think I’ll look into something else instead.
We made a Trader Joe’s run on Sunday to spot shop for a few items. I always linger over the cut flowers while I’m there. Flowers make me feel good. They’re a sort of senseless beauty that needs no reason. There were some bunches of mixed flowers there that had sprigs of the purple larkspur I love so much. I was sorely tempted, but talked myself out of the waste of money.
I then poked through the roses, taking in the smell and looking at the colors. Deep red, pink, cream, salmon … and then I saw them. Yellow, petals bordered in orange that tapered to scarlet just at the very edges. Fresh tight buds, with just that little bit of curling at the edges that tells you these are live roses and not those disappointing dead-heads that make beautiful buds but never develop into open flowers. I wanted them. I got them. I’ve a half-dozen roses on my desk now, a splash of garden in an otherwise weedy day.
My body may never learn to dance, but my soul will never stop dancing.
I made it onto the list! 🙂
No rush! LOL @ the true story. I just go to the store and I can end up not buying what I came for because I can’t choose which brand to buy (like juices, those are the worst, way too many flavors).
RYC: Ew eew eeew. There ARE recipes. Eew. I don’t think I’m having dinner ever again.
I’ve now got one of those ‘i don’t dance’ guys – my first ever, and it was hard to get used to! Now I dance alone… you should take the class if you want to! It’s great exercise and it’s something enjoyable at the same time, which is hard to get!
My body may never learn to dance, but my soul will never stop dancing.
Oh yea, I like that attitude! Keep on truckin’
Ohhhh…can I be interview too!?!?! Question…can cats dream? Looks like my cat had a bad dream last night
Ah, the flowers! Thanks for that. I used to bring flowers to the office when I was having a particularly hard time. Now that the winter blues have setting in, you’ve reminded me I have another way of dealing with ’em other than chocolate!
I’ve been pestering Hubby about Ballroom Dancing classes for years. He always used the excuse of not having time because of his school. He has graduated now and doesn’t have an excuse.
Hee hee hee!
Alli
Take the lessons!
It’s just like the flowers!
Food for the soul.
Y.
No hurry, I’m patient.
~Cali
I would love to take ballroom dancing lessons. I think I could even convince Rick to take them with me. But then again, where would we dance after we’ve learned?? Just gimmee the yarn, I’ll knit the mittens.
Julie
I never learned formal dancing. In fact, I never learned informal dancing, either. I just go by the old saw "dance like no one is watching" when I do my dance-like attempts. It keeps me from laughing at myself.
Such a beautiful soul you have!
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