Defrosted the freezer first thing this morning because Andy has been muttering about making cider from the proliferation of apples we have produced this year and to me cider making = wasps, so I thought I’d better crack on getting some of them into the freezer for the making of Future Crumbles. The apples, not the wasps. Wasp crumble? Are you MAD??
First batch ready to go. The apples are, supposedly, eating apples, but they tend on the side of tartness so cooking them up to freeze is the best way of preserving them.
Whilst cooking, I was exchanging messages on the Messenger with Heather about various topics continuing on from yesterday evening when she was suggesting various forms of exercise to me. This is the woman who gets up at the crack of dawn to participate in a boot camp, of all things, on Folkestone sea front. Don’t worry, I’m not in any danger of copying that malarkey, partly because we are at least an hour from the nearest coastline, partly because I don’t like being shouted at, and mostly because it is barking mad behaviour. But she enjoys it. Or at least, she says she does. In between gasping for breath and squealing in pain.
Anyway, she said, ‘How about ballet? You’d enjoy that, Mum.’ And she is correct. I would. However, I have searched online for a local class - there is an organisation called ‘Silver Swans’ who do ballet classes for the over 55s (which I shall be in 7 weeks’ time) but of course, because of the current Situation, there are no live classes at the moment. Nevertheless, I dug out my ballet shoes - yes, I have ballet shoes! - and thought I could find some online classes.
Here are my feet performing first, third and fifth positions...
I would publish the photos I took of them performing second and fourth positions except, because of the camera angle, they weren’t very flattering, a bit like sequoia trees wearing car tyres.
But ballet - yes. Definitely on the list. In fact, the idea caused me to have a dream last night whereby I dreamt that Damson Cottage had a ballroom that I had forgotten about, plus a second kitchen and a whole series of upstairs rooms leading off undiscovered corridors. Make of that what you will, oh Dream Analyst. It was a bit of a disappointment to wake and discover no such ballroom existed. Heather suggested I build one. She said there was room. I thought, the kitchen will have to do. I can use the towel rail on the Aga as a barré.
Andy has suggested to me something called ‘5,6,7 Broadway’ which is on You Tube and is a series of learning the dance routines to various popular Broadway musical songs. I don’t know how he came across these videos - perhaps he is secretly performing ‘All That Jazz’ when I’m not looking. Still, I’ve just had a look and it seems like ENORMOUS fun! If either of my children ever get around to getting married, I am going to be the STAR at the reception disco beneath the glitterball in my hot pants! Of course, if I am to participate in ‘5,6,7 Broadway’ properly, it looks like I shall need to kit myself out with a bowler hat, some fishnet tights, some tap shoes and a LOT of sequins and feathers. This can be done.
I am still considering running. Also on my list of possibilities are : yoga, Pilates (I’ve been to Pilates classes before and enjoyed them), Prancercise (you’ve got to see it to believe it), skipping, hula-hooping, Qi-gong (again, I have tried this before and enjoyed it) and horse riding. I could probably rule out horse riding on the grounds of cost. And not having a horse.
And now I need to remove my ballet shoes because I cannot feel my toes.
Cheerio!
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