We’re sitting watching a recording of tonight’s Strictly, but this morning we did our own Strictly!
We drove to Brookfield in the morning with me in my usual Saturday morning grumpy “I don’t want to go” mood. The nearer we got to the dance class, the lighter my mood got. Don’t know why. I don’t ask the questions, and I don’t try to answer them. I just go with what my inner ‘Black Monkey’ says.
So today’s dance lesson started with Blue Angel Rumba which was a quite simple and fairly easy sequence dance. Then everything changed and the first dance they wanted us to do was the Viennese Waltz. Lots of turning and lots of simple change of place, but all done in a very strict tempo. Most of it worked for us without thinking, because we were working to carefully choreographed moves. Thankfully we didn’t have to do too many spins, because Scamp didn’t have her sticky out multi-layered petticoat on and I’d forgotten my evening dress and tails. Other than that it was a success.
Next dance was Paso La Paz. Lots of stamping of feet and pretending to hold a beachball between us as we strutted round the floor. We did toe taps and matador stances waving our imaginary capes in front of us. Apparently the foot stamps and the toe taps are to clean the blood and sand from our shoes while we are in the bullring and after the bull has been despatched! Who knew? Neither of these were the Foxtrot or the Four Seasons Waltz we’d been expecting. Interesting though!
A couple of tracks of the Midnight Jive brought us back down to earth again and then it was time to head home again. Actually a really interesting and thought provoking couple of dances. I won’t criticise Strictly again. Well, actually I will, but I’ll be a bit more sympathetic with the poor folk having to learn these dances that look so easy, but are not.
I took the A7 our for a walk later with the Tamron lens for company. There wasn’t much to see but it rained while I was out and I got a chance to see the raindrops beading and dripping from my new rain jacket. PoD turned out to be a robin singing its little heart out from the top of a Hawthorn bush. Quite impressed with the quality.
I came home via the chip shop with a Special Fish Supper (two fish in breadcrumbs and chips). After that we watched the ‘other’ strictly. Not nearly as good or as difficult as our morning dances!
No plans for tomorrow. I wonder if Scamp would notice if I cut a rose, and gripping it securely in my teeth while I stamped my feet, stood with my head back and one arm across my chest and the other behind my back in classic Matador’s stance, as I made breakfast tomorrow morning?