Category Archives: dancing

Weekend Coffee Share – 22nd May, 2022.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

It’s Sunday night here, and I thought you might like to join me watching Masterchef. Thank goodness, I’ve already had dinner or I’d be salivating like a blood hound all over the keyboard and the dog blissfully sleeping underneath. Tonight, they’re fusing two cultures together, and I just saw the most divine lobster dish along with an incredible dessert which personified was pure indulgence. Sorry, I can’t remember what was in it, but since none of us can actually sample these dishes perhaps that’s possibly a good thing. Despite the judges’ rapturous praise, we’ll just convince ourselves it all tastes like cardboard or some equally bland substance.

How was your week?

The big news here in Australia is that we voted in our Federal Election yesterday and we have a change of government. Prime Minister Mr Scott Morrison from the Liberal Party has been replaced by Mr Anthony Albanese of the Labor Party. It’s still early days but the analysts are busy. I must admit I feel sorry for people who have lost their seats, regardless of their political persuasion.

Last week for me, revolved around our daughter’s dance performance in a series of concerts featuring young talent aged 13-21 on the NSW Central Coast. It’s not easy to land yourself a spot and Miss had 2-3 previous attempts. So, this was a huge celebration. There’s also relief because she wants to be a professional ballerina, and getting through this year was a sign she’s on the right track. She was doing her contemporary dance, which involved picking up a rose with her feet and transferring it around which doing all her “tricks”. I’m not usually anxious watching her, and you’d think I might’ve been sitting there proud as a peacock especially wearing my fancy new scarf. Instead, I kept worrying she was going to drop the rose, or else would go wrong. We’d had a stressful afternoon chasing up a few requirements last minute and catching every red light in town when time was of the essence. I could mention something about Murphy’s Law, except that her performance went so well, that I’m just grateful.

Miss in Flight

Meanwhile, I’ve been reading a great new book, which I guess could well be deemed a diversion as I’m already reading a few books and need to get back to my WWI research and analysis. However, I popped into my local bookshop looking for a book of short stories by Tony Birch: Dark As Last Night. I needed to order that one in, but as one who has no capacity to resist temptation in bookshops, I had the most fleeting glance at the shelves and came home with Kerri Maher’s: The Paris Bookseller. It’s “inspired” by the story of Sylvia Beach who found the iconic English-speaking bookstore: Shakespeare and Company. It just so happens that I did a solo poetry reading there in 1992 as an impressionable 23 year old. So, the book is incredibly personal for me. However, so far the plot focuses around James Joyce and the banning of Ulysses, which feels quite relevant these days with what’s been going on in many political circles. I also finished Irish philosopher, Michael Harding’s: A Cloud Where The Birds Rise. It’s made up of excerpts from his reflection on life published via his weekly column in the Irish Times.

My Poetry Reading Shakespeare & Company Bookshop, Paris 1992.

In other news here, we’re trying to have some kind of radical clean-up. I don’t really like the term “declutter”, which is just so dismissive and disrespectful about your precious treasures. An excess of books, for example, is not clutter. It’s inspiration, education, transformation all within those printed pages, and in too many cases, too difficult to part with. However, at least I’m getting through a few books atm, but I don’t think I’ll be able to part with any of these They’re all keepers! Yet, I at least had some success in the bathroom and cleared out a garbage bag of potions and Miss has thrown out four bags of stuff from her room. All of that barely scratches the surface, but it’s progress.

Feet and Shadows at the Beach last week.

Lastly, Miss and I went for a few brief visits to the beach to destress last week. Couldn’t resist photographing our feet in front of the view.

We also spotted some inspirational words painted onto rocks at the far end of the beach:

Well, that’s all folks.

This is another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by Natalie the Explorer at: https://natalietheexplorer.home.blog/

Best wishes,

Rowena

Driving The Tutu Taxi.

Frankly, parenting can take you down some wild and random roads, and I never quite know where I’m going to end up. Or, what death-defying challenge I’m going to be facing next. How I’m going to be stretched right out of my comfort zone. Stretched, and stretched and stretched until breaking point feels like blessed relief.

Geoff and I waiting for the concert to start.

Just as a bit of background, I’ll share that when our son was in kindergarten aged five, a friend and I cottoned on that what you really want as a parent, is an average kid. After all, academically the school system caters best for a child of average intelligence, and you don’t need to be Einstein to realize that if your progeny has any kind of talent, you’ll not only be driving from here to Timbuctoo, you’ll also need a second or third job to pay for it.

However, at the same time both my friend and I couldn’t resist booking our kids into enriching after-school activities, and we paid the price. Her son went on to excel in soccer, and she ended up driving out to the farthest reaches of the state, and almost into the outback. Meanwhile, we’ve driven to the ends of the earth for dance, sailing, and scouts. I have to be honest and say that in some ways being locked down for a few years gave us blessed relief. We could actually stay home. Yet, at the same time, we missed watching them, being part of these communities ourselves, and seeing our friends there as well. It hasn’t all been a one way street.

Anyway, this brings me to the actual good news, and that was that our daughter was accepted into the Youth in the Performing Arts Concerts (YIPA) held locally. It’s held annually for young people aged 13 to 21 years. Being selected was a significant achievement, and an indication that she’s climbed a few extra rungs up the ladder. Wow! Where the ladder is heading at this stage, we don’t know. However, progress is progress.

Photograph: Emily Stoddart.

However, the downside of these performances is all the work which goes on behind the scenes. Today, I spent the afternoon dashing around like a maniac chasing last minute paraphernalia she required, but we actually got her there, on time, in one piece, and she performed to perfection. We were so proud of her, but I’ve got to be honest and say I was just relieved it went without a hitch, especially given how she incorporates the rose into her incredible tricks. It always goes without a hitch. However, since I can barely walk with a mug of tea without spilling it, my own anxiety an run wild. Indeed, I spent most of this performance fixated on that rose and praying nothing would go wrong. Dance, is after all, a nerve-wracking business.

Yes! It all went brilliantly!

Notice the rose in her feet – photo Emily Stoddart.

Anyway, last night’s performance was breath-taking. We very proud of her…and relieved. I am now looking forward to watching her performance again on the video in the comfort of our lounge. Phew! Pure joy!

Does this trigger any memories for you? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.

Best wishes,

Rowena

PS Here’s a flash back to her first YIPA audition 2019. Aged 13.

Happy Easter Weekend Coffee Share- 18th April, 2022.

Wishing you a Happy and Blessed Easter and Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share! Easter was very low key and virtually non-existent at our place this year, because I fell at my daughter’s dance competition last Wednesday and for some reason haven’t been feeling right ever since in ways that go well beyond the sore foot.

Photo: Emily Stoddart Photography.

The dance competition was intense on steroids both in terms of how incredibly talented, moving and beautiful each and every ones of these dances was, but also in terms of the huge amount of physical and emotional energy it demanded from each of the dancers, their teachers and parents. Miss competed in seven dances I think, which really was a phenomenal effort especially when you factor all the costume changes and steps involved. It’s mind-blowing and I really don’t know how she does it, except she’s been doing it since she was three, and it is her absolute passion and calling. I doubt this is something you can even consider going into half-mast.

The life of a dancer is thwart. There are days where all your ducks line up andeverything goes your way. However, there are also times when it can completely fall apart, which we haven’t really experienced. While I’m a Christian, I still suspect there’s a Lord of the Dance out there too, who is either for or against you on the day. It’s almost like you need to leave a burnt offering on the altar outside when you go in. Well, of course, I didn’t do that, but I did pray that she would come first before she did her classical ballet solo with her new tutu and routine. I wrote a note to myself: Is it wrong to pray for your daughter to come first with her ballet solo? The other dance mums I conferred with thought it was fine, and were equally enthusiastic to see her perform, which was absolutely delightful and made my day. There’s inexpressible joy, but it can get a bit foreboding, and I can’t even begin to describe what goes through your mind while you’re sitting there. However, her dance went beautifully and she won. She has won other sections before, but this meant so much more. She was competing in the open section which is the highest level, but what it meant was that she’s on track for reaching her dream of becoming a ballerina. It was a resounding: “YES!!!” (although she still has such a long way to go!!)

Of course, I was proud. However, my overriding emotion was relief and pure joy!

BY the way, I drew on my years of supporting my daughter’s dance efforts, to write my 100 word weekly contribution to Friday Fictioneers: Last Flight of the Swans: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2022/04/13/last-flight-of-the-swans-friday-fictioneers-13th-april-2022/

However, somehow this ridiculously compulsive book addict managed to make it to the the local Pearl Beach Book Sale on Saturday. Trust me. For a book addict like yours truly, it’s up there on a temptation level right alongside a chocolate shop. Moreover, since all the Easter eggs had virtually sold out by Thursday according to my husband, feasting on books it is.

The other drawcard about this Pearl Beach Book Sale is that the books are top notch. Pearl Beach is a rather exclusive retreat, and attracts a lot of creative people, who seem to have great taste in reading material. I arrived mid-afternoon, and I don’t know how much the books were at the outset, but I was paying $2.00 each. Of course, this was an absolute steal. So, it didn’t make too much sense to be too selective. It was more a case of fill a box, another box, and while you’re thinking about it, why don’t you fill this one too. The irony of all this was that I’m actually in the process of seriously downsizing our book collection, and the boot of the very same car I drove to the book sale, was full of books I’m planning to drop off for the next book sale at the local PCYC.

Another issue is that I am not a voracious book reader. I read a lot doing my history research. However, that’s mainly involved old newspapers online. I also read blog posts. I also do a few Bible studies and try to read my Bible daily. So, it’s not like I’m not reading at all. I’m just not one of those people who polish off a couple of novels a week. Geoff was doing that without any dramas when he was commuting to work on the train. However, he’s been working from home for the last two years. So, he’s reading has dropped off a lot. He’s just finished reading a Harlan Coben novel: Hold Tight. Have you read it? We’ve been making our way through a few TV series based on his novels. I mostly love them, although there was one that I felt had too much violence, and was just too seedy. I managed to pick up another Harben Coben at the book sale: Just One Look.

Meanwhile, we didn’t really celebrate Easter. I haven’t been well since my fall last week, and my dad had surgery last week and we thought we’d leave it a week or two. Yesterday, was also my brother’s 50th birthday and he didn’t mind when we got together. However, I did spend last night going through my photos and fishing him out. I might actually manage to get this photo attempt printed up.

Anyway, I hope you and yours had a Happy and blessed Easter.

Love and blessings,

Rowena

All dance photos were taken by Emily Stoddart Photography.

Last Flight of the Swans – Friday Fictioneers 13th April, 2022

Age didn’t soften the blow. He was old, and she was old. Still, his death was brutal. She’d held onto his ice-cold body until the neighbour called their daughter. “It was time.” No! It would never be time. They would dance together for eternity: the swan and her beloved prince.

Celeste made them tea, right through Winter, and barely noticed he never said a word.

Now, the snow was thawing, and his chair had risen from the dead.

She couldn’t bear it.

The neighbor found Celeste lying on the snow still holding the axe.

The chair was split in two.

…..

100 words. PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

For those of you who know me well, you’ll know our daughter dances seriously. After a very disjointed couple of years, dance is back with a vengeance and I spent hours at the studio last week for open week and it’s dance competition this week. Part of me quite enjoys living and breathing dance, but am just a bystander and with my health issues, it’s really difficult to keep up with the demands of high pressure dance. At today’s competition, it wasn’t one of the dancers on stage who crashed and had a fall. It was yours truly who managed her feat of brilliance from her chair. I ended up on the floor and the whole competition came to a grinding halt for a good 10-15 minutes. I felt humiliated. What no one tells you about having offspring pursuing a high octane career path, is that they’re taking you with them. You also have to measure up. Sadly, I don’t believe I can. Well, not in a physical sense anyway. However, I’d imagine I’d be hard to beat if imagination had anything to do with it. However, that’s not the domain of a dance mum, and could even be a curse. Much better to stay in your place. Fire up the engine. Sew up those pointe shoes, and pay the bills. (Humph, feeling a bit sorry for myself tonight and very sore. Perhaps, my love affair with dance might return again in the morning.)

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields: https://rochellewisoff.com/

Many thanks and best wishes,

Rowena

Dorothy’s Gift

Dorothy had travelled the world using her magic ruby slippers, and she was no longer the fresh-faced, young girl who had followed the Yellow Brick Road into Oz. Indeed, she was now older than Aunt Em had ever been, and it was time to hang up her shoes. However, she had no idea where to leave them, or how to pass the baton on.  Immobilised, the shoes took over, and they touched down in front of New Zealand’s Great Shoe Fence. Problem solved. Dorothy hung them up, and waited until a young woman took them home…Jacinda. She had extraordinary plans.

……

100 Words PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

The Winston Ruby Slippers made out of real diamonds and rubies.

There were quite a few directions I could’ve taken with this prompt. I had no idea what the “Raise Plow” sign meant. Being from Sydney, we haven’t had to deal with snow plows. Apparently, the sign is used to alert drivers of snow clearing vehicles to raise the snowplow that can get damaged due to construction plates hidden under snow or speed bump on the road. So, my focus was drawn more towards the hanging pile of shoes. What did that mean? I wasn’t too cluey on that front either. However, I did recall a shoe fence we’d stumbled across on our honeymoon in New Zealand 20 years ago. That was the starting point for this story. It’s a place where old shoes go to die. However, some people seem to find a pair there as well, and breathe fresh life into them. So I thought I’d find a special pair of shoes which could be left behind, and found this incredible pair of Ruby Slippers designed by jeweller Harry Winston to acknowledge the 50th Anniversary of the movie in 1989. They are made of real diamonds and rubies and are worth a cool $3 million. Wow!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my story and additions.

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields: https://rochellewisoff.com/2022/03/16/18-march-2022/

Many thanks and best wishes,

Rowena

Further Reading:

Our Sound of Music on New Year’s Day!

I couldn’t resist. When I saw that The Sound of Music was going to be on tonight, I knew that no matter how hard I might try to resist, I was going to watch it. Not just because it was on, and I had nowhere else to be, but because I wanted to watch it. That I had to go through the whole Sound of Music experience all over again. Immerse myself fully.

Miss outside the Brent Street Studios where the auditions were held.

Besides, Sound of Music brings back some very special memories of of my own. When my daughter was about nine, she came home from a dance class with a torn out strip of paper in her hand. On it were written the details to audition for Andrew Lloyd Webber’s production of the Sound of Music in Sydney. A scrap of paper wasn’t an auspicious beginning, and I must admit I was rather unenthused. My grandmother had been a child prodigy concert pianist, and I’d had expectations thrust on me at an early age. However, the desire was coming from her, not from me. Moreover, she’s very hard to say no to. Before I knew it, I was filling out the application form and sending off a photo. It was only then that I bought a copy of the movie, and saw how much our daughter looked like the original Marta, and wasn’t surprised when she scored an audition. The first thing she had to do was pass the height test. Then came the singing audition, and then onto dance.

These days, Miss doesn’t do a lot of singing. However, back then she’d performed in quite a few large choral performances at school, including School Spectacular. However, she’d also been diagnosed with vocal nodules and was struggling to speak let alone sing, and had been seeing a speech therapist. However, why let a small thing like that get in the way of your dream? Moreover, if you know us even just a little bit, you know we don’t give up that easily.

Persevering with the keyboard while on the nebuliser. I only need it a few times a day so not a big deal.

Just to complicate matters further, I ended up with a major chest infection, asthma and needing to go on the nebuliser in the week leading up to her audition. I wasn’t about to let that stand in my way either. Anything short of a near death experience, and I was getting her to that audition myself. Call us daft in hindsight, but once the juggernaut is in motion, it takes a hell of a lot to make it stop.

Miss playing the keyboard.

So, there we were a fine pair in the week before the audition. Miss with vocal nodules and me on the nebuliser. Yet, we prepared and practiced the songs. It had been years since I’d touched a keyboard, but I pulled out this gizmo I’d bought out at a market for the kids…a rollout electronic keyboard which could go on the kitchen table and it didn’t matter if we wrote the notes on it. It was hardly my mother’s precious Steinway grand. I also wrote the songs out with the corresponding letters because she coulddn’t read music. However, while learning the songs on the keyboard was sparing her voice, she couldn’t see the point of it all, and when the horse resisted, I pulled back. In hindsight, it was all probably a bit too much, but I meant well.

Converting the musical score into “Miss-Speak”. I really worked hard to help.

By the way, there was a rather comical twist to her audition. The night beforehand, we were able to stay with a friend in the city to make things easier. As it turns out, my friend was a Major in the Army Reserve and just happened to be in uniform when he dropped us off at Brent Studios. So, as you can see, she had a proper military escort to her audition.

Miss with the Major

We were kind of grateful when she didn’t make it through to the callbacks. I don’t know how parents magically “make it happen”, but we’d have been bending over backwards and inside out to pull it off. Yet, we would’ve done it.

Miss is now 15 going on 16. So tonight as I rewatched the Sound of Music, she was now almost the same as Liesl, the eldest of the Von Trapp children, but fifteen going on sixteen instead. Of course, this isn’t all smooth sailing, and she was the only one of us who was out and about last night.

If you would like to find out more about the original Von Trapp family, this is a good quick read: https://www.archives.gov/publications/prologue/2005/winter/von-trapps-html

In the meantime, with covid at large and management in NSW in complete disarray, it might be an opportune time to catch up with a few other movie classics. The Blues Brothers was on NYE along with Can’t Stop The Music with the Village People. I’ve watched that after midnight for probably the last five years but it was on before midnight this year and I missed it. I’m also trying to start reading Amanda Lowrey’s book: The Labyrinth (along with getting through a massive book pile). Gee, along with wanting to enjoy the outdoors and sort out the house, top of my wish list for 2022 is nine lives.

Best wishes,

Rowena

My daughter and I a few months ago after getting our post lockdown haircuts.

Weekend Coffee Share – 13th December, 2021

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

How are you? Hope was your week? I hope it went well.

My week has rushed by in a blur, and it feels like I’ve done nothing, achieved nothing and have simply been hovering in suspended animation. That’s not depression talking, butt more a state of conscious forgetfulness. Where was I last week? What happened’/ sometimes, it’s also a case of : “Who am I?” and it’s just as well my name is written down somewhere close by to remind me.

The reality is that I was actually rather busy. We are a family of four humans and three dogs. My husband works in IT for a university in Sydney with a hospital attached and has been the only network engineer available to go on site because his colleague is unvaccinated. Two people is pretty understaffed anyway, but with the overseas students being axed for the last two years, the universities have been a severe casualty in so many ways and the axe has been falling everywhere. We also have two teenagers – our son is now 17 and has always been known as “Mister” on here but he turns 18 in March, and has rather outgrown it. Miss is now 15 and working part-time at McDonalds and still dancing up a storm. So, we’ve been busy with end of year dance concerts, Geoff has end of year Christmas parties this week and I actually managed to post 17 Christmas cards.

Are you sending actual physical Christmas cards this year? Do you write a Christmas newsletter? These have always been big traditions for me. However, I don’t believe I sent more than a couple of Christmas cards over the last two years and I might have forgotten to email out my Christmas newsletter last year.

I’ve pulled my socks up this year, because I’ve realised that these Christmas cards are doing so much more than simply adding to Hallmark’s coffers every year. They help us to stay connected to a host of people who still mean the world to us, but we don’t see very often. They’re particularly important with people who aren’t online or Facebook. I don’t tend to ring people just for a chat anymore like I used to either. Here in Sydney we’ve had that massive four month lockdown. We live a bit North of Sydney in what in termed Greater Sydney. Now, Geoff is usually commuting to Sydney five days a week for work and I’d be down there at least once a month. However, we’ve only been down there once since the end of June and that was to see my parents and brother. We didn’t go anywhere else. We’ve also been laying low at home, and haven’t been back to physical Church so that’s a whole different swag of people we’re not seeing. So, the Christmas cards and the newsletter feel particularly important this year. We need to connect!

Despite beating myself over the knuckles for not doing anything, I did write a piece for Friday Fictioneers. These are 100 word responses to a photo prompt, and a great way to keep up your fiction writing without having to develop a long piece. I actually find it a very good medium for me, and encourage you to give it a go. Anyway, I had a bit of fun with this one. Here’s the link and I hope you enjoy it: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2021/12/08/the-valentines-day-baby-1962-friday-fictioneers-8th-december-2021/

The Beach

The weather has been pretty lousy lately but it’s a bright sunny day outside, and here I am indoors tapping away. The beach is only a few blocks away too. However, I have a support worker here today, and will have to wait til she leaves at 5.00pm. Meanwhile, there’s a pavlova cooling in the oven for our son to take to his Venturer meeting tonight, and then I’m onto preparing the fruit for the Christmas cake. I know it’s a bit late by most people’s calculations. However, Mum often rushed it through the night before Christmas so I’m way ahead.

Before I head off, I’ll leave you with a photo of the formal dress I picked up for our daughter for $20.00 at the opportunity shop last week. She doesn’t have a formal this year, but got all dolled up for photos with some friends who had their graduation formal. Here’s a pick:

Miss on the left with her friend.

Hope you’re going well and I look forward to hearing from you!

Meanwhile, you might like to join us over at the Weekend Coffee Share, which is hosted by Natalie the Explorer https://natalietheexplorer.home.blog/

Best wishes,

Rowena

Weekend Coffee Share – 7th February, 2021.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

After a hot and sunny day, it’s now after midnight. I can hear the rain outside cleansing the air, watering the earth, and all that grows. The blinds are drawn. So, I can’t see outside, but I can hear the raindrops, and a bit of wind and an intermittent soft pitter-patter on the roof. Of course, the dogs are inside sheltering with their humans, and the rest of the family is asleep I should be sleep too. However, after a hectic day yesterday, I slept through much of today and am out of synch again. Things also feel much more straightforward at night when there’s only myself to think about. There’s peace and quiet, and this sense of nothingness. I think that’s the sense that catastrophe is only just being held at bay, and this is but a stolen moment of respite from it all. Intermission. However, even intermission is good, isn’t it?!!

The highlight of this week was our daughter’s dance competition. She doesn’t enter many of these, and they sort of hover on the horizon with a mix of excitement and dread. I really love watching her dance. Not only because she’s my daughter. She’s also a magnificent dancer. Moreover, as a poet and writer, dance appeals to my soul, my inner most being. Well, at least some of it does. Lyrical, which is essentially about telling a story, is my favourite genre. It tends to remind me of some of my favourite poets…Kahlil Gibran, Rumi, and can be rather connected to nature. However, I do become quite entranced by ballet and all its trappings…tutus, satin pointe shoes and tiaras. However, I also want depth to any dance, and not just flouncing around.

Anyway, the concert began in earnest, two days earlier when we ended up on a last minute pointe shoe run. Our daughter had ordered in a pair, and they hadn’t arrived, leaving her seriously in the lurch, and with only two days for us to find a pair. For the uninitiated, pointe shoes need to be fitted, and for that you need an appointment. We had no appointment. On top of that, finding the right pointe shoe reminds me of Prince Charming trying to find the foot which fit into the glass slipper, only in reverse. We had the foot, and now we need to find the one in a million pointe shoe which was not only going to fit, but also offer exactly the right amount of support. It’s a very precise science, and our daughter’s had a few pairs now and has a pretty good idea of what she needs. Thankfully, we managed to find the pair, and on Saturday we were off with the car loaded up with costumes, shoes, food, a newspaper, and a book. It was going to be a 12 hour day, and even if you love dance, it’s a lot to watch and a lot of things you could be sorting out at home. As it was, she came first in her ballet solo, third in her duo and third in her Contemporary. However, just getting through all of this and all the preparation, is an achievement for us both. I was pleased I didn’t screw anything up.

Meanwhile, now that school has been back for a few weeks, I’ve started getting back into my WWI research and am focusing on a series of bios of people on the home front. It wasn’t my intention to write about the home front at all. However, I came across these stories and outliers while researching our families’ stories and working towards a collection of soldiers’ bios. Now, that I’ve been thinking about the home front more, I feel the link to the home front and the battlefield is closer than I thought and they’re quite interactive, even though they’re geographically quite distant in Australia’s case.

You see, the soldiers themselves are coming from the home front, so what’s going on there obviously has a strong influence on why they enlisted. Then, there are soldiers returning home, who are also bringing experiences and news from the battlefield to the front home. Anyway, right from the get go, it’s been riveting, and it’s exciting to see it coming together. By the way, this research turned into my covid lockdown project and it’s really given me a strong sense of purpose during these uncertain times, especially when we were in lockdown last year.

Have you had a covid project?

Actually, speaking of Covid, have you had the vaccine yet? It isn’t available here yet, and I’ll need to speak to my specialist before I go ahead. BTW for those of you who are wondering why get vaccinated if it doesn’t provide full protection from the virus and negate the need for masks, my view is that all these precautions add up and will hopefully be effective as a whole. It’s like wearing a suit of armour. You still need your sword.

Anyway, I’m going to head off because it’s way too late.

This has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by Natalie the Explorer at https://natalietheexplorer.home.blog/

Best wishes,

Rowena

Thursday Doors – Back to Dance 2021.

“Dance is the hidden language of the soul.”
Martha Graham

Collectively, we’ve posted many doors on this blog share. However, for most of us it’s the familiar doors which mean the most, especially our very own front door.

Well, this Thursday I was waiting for my daughter to finish her dance class, and I noticed the door to the studio with it’s welcoming sign and I thought I’d honour that this week. After all, this is 11th year we’ve walked through that door for another dance year, and now she’s about to turn 15. So, let’s just say: “she’s improved”.

Our daughter aged 4 at her first ballet open day where Mummy was finally let inside the door along with her camera. I think the aim here was just to point their toes.

Walking through this door has been a life changer for the kids and myself. Although I’d done ballet until I was about eleven, I didn’t really get into dance at all. Didn’t connect with it, and certainly wasn’t one to go to the ballet. I’m more one for the Sydney Writer’s Festival, or possibly the theatre.

However, that’s all changed. I’ve been metamorphosed into loving dance, not that I go to the ballet even now, I see so much of it through my daughter and right up close, that I haven’t felt the need. Perhaps, I’m missing out and I was edging towards taking our daughter to the ballet in Sydney, but then covid came along. Besides, we’ve been to a few musicals in Sydney. So, she hasn’t been deprived.

Anyway, I still remember the first day we walked through this door, and into the studio for her first class. What I remember most about that, was the door closing in front of me, and I was left behind. She was only three turning four. The teacher took her away, and she was gone. It was like her first day of school, only a little early.

Since then, we’ve had the annual concerts where before we humble parents and grandparents were able to see our little darlings prancing around on stage, we had to master the fine art of getting the hair in place. This act of torture is not for the faint-hearted when your daughter has very fine hair which knots easily and every stroke of the brush produces tears and a deafening scream. Of course, it’s all worth it when you see them up on stage.

Our daughter before her first ballet concert aged four. Isn’t she sweet!

It was around the time of the first annual concert, that our daughter appeared en pointe at home. This, of course, wasn’t on real pointe shoes when she was only four years old. Rather, it was on little blue plastic cups, but she was entranced and took it very seriously.

I don’t know if I looked at her back then and started seeing glimpses of the ballerina she would become. However, it wasn’t much later because right from dot she looked like a ballerina and through all the trappings of a knockabout kid who was doing nippers, scouts and going swimming at the beach in her school uniform on occasions after school, the ballerina was there just like Michelangelo seeing David inside that block of marble.

That’s not to say that she’s going to become the next Misty Copeland. In many ways, she’s already become herself and is already a ballerina now, even though she’s still got such a long way to go. Of course, this is the benefit of being Mum and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa. She was breathtakingly beautiful and an incredible dancer at four, and every time we see her dance, we’re absolutely dazzled. We’re not her teachers, or the judge. We don’t need to be critical. It’s our job to encourage, drive, and probably work about three jobs to get her through. However, you do that for your kid. You do whatever it takes to the best of your ability. Well, most of us at least try, and hopefully we can also support and encourage those who are left falling through the cracks, even if it’s only for a moment. We’ve certainly appreciated that ourselves many times over.

My adult ballet class. I’m wearing the satin ballet slippers and you can pick our teacher with her perfect foot and not wearing socks.

Anyway, since we’ve walked through that door, we’ve made many friends, and connected at a fairly deep and meaningful level over the years. Indeed, one of the things I found most difficult about covid last year, was not seeing all the other dance parents. We might see each other say for ten minutes in the waiting room after each class, which isn’t much. However, when you multiply that by a couple of classes a week over 11 years, those moments add up, and there’s been a lot of sharing. I have also done some adult classes over the years as well, and I’ve really loved them and made some wonderful friendships there. I’m not just a dance mum. I am a dancer (just not a very good one and also one with disability and health issues!! It’s quite ironic actually!)

Our daughter using her brother’s head as a ballet barre. Seems like she’s turned him into the supporting act. This was taken before the concert in our hallway at home.

So, walking through this one door, has opened many, many doors for us, and before I head off, I’ll also mention that our son also did hip-hop classes here with a former Billy Elliott from Melbourne and Broadway. He also made a friendship then, which resurfaced last year and last weekend we found ourselves comforting him after his Pop had a stroke and we drove Nan to the hospital. Our son was such a comfort to his friend, who ended up sleeping in our loungeroom that night.

Those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”
Friedrich Nietzsche

I think this is the most recent photo I have of our daughter on stage.

All of that started by walking through this door.

I know this quote appears in a corny ad, but it’s very true: “From little things, big things grow…”

This has been another contribution to Thursday Doors, which is kindly hosted by Dan Antion at No Facilities: https://nofacilities.com/2021/01/28/trinity-church-et-al-thursday-doors/

PS I just had to include this favourite.

This was the first time I saw her doing her ballet solo. Someone else took this photo and emailed it through to me, and I’m so grateful. I still absolutely love it.

Weekend Coffee Share… 19th October, 2020.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

How are you this week? What’s going on in your neck of the woods? For those of you who don’t know or can’t remember, I live just North of Sydney, Australia and so it’s Spring here and we’re also in what seems to be a Covid bubble as it stands.

As time goes by and these truly radical lifestyle changes have become the norm, I’m feeling more relaxed about going out, but trying to remain vigilant. Until there’s a vaccine, we’re in it for the long haul which requires a different approach to getting through than a sprint. That’s not to say I’m taking risks, but I’m no longer Alcatraz either. Well, not when there’s such a low risk of transmission. Meanwhile, I’m somewhat conscious of increases overseas, and hoping and praying for all affected and hoping the numbers will drop. Melbourne is doing much better here, which is great news.

Meanwhile, life here’s been busier than usual, but mostly in a very positive way.

Our daughter with yesterday’s dance trophies

Yesterday, our daughter competed in a local dance eisteddfod and received two 1st placings and a second placing in her ballet solo (she was only .5 behind 1st place). This was the first time our daughter’s placed first and she’s been competing for a couple of years. So, this was a big step forward for her. She’s keen to pursue a career in dance, especially classical ballet, and so it’s important for her to place well to head down that trajectory. It’s also such a buzz to win, even though I know I’ve brought up the usual benefits of having a go when things haven’t gone so well in the past. That said, I’m pretty sure she’s always placed with her solos.

After the competition, we headed off to Terrigal to meet up with her cousin for lunch, and we wandered along the beach front afterwards. I only captured this quick snap of the three of us and didn’t bother with scenic shots as it was a bit overcast and I’ve had better conditions in the past. Terrigal is one of the tourist focus points on the NSW Central Coast and is more touristy and built up than our local beach. It’s also more upmarket. However, we’re surrounded by National Parks and also closer to the train to Sydney. So, we’re happy where we are.

Last week, was a big week for our son. He was off on work experience at a local youth centre where they have a radio station and sound set up. He received very encouraging feedback, which is more than I can say for his commentary on my driving. I had to get across three lanes of traffic to get to our turn off coming home and it really was quite hellish, and people were not real keen to let me in either. I really needed to be able to wave a white flag. Or, have a sign saying: “Mum’s taxi’s having a rough day. Please give me a break!!”

Last week, my aunt, Dr Anna Haebich from Curtin University in Western Australia, was interviewed on Radio National by Phillip Adams:

https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/latenightlive/german-botanist-in-wa/12761494?fbclid=IwAR3tyA3egsS0Ht33SWHn8jZ4OoGSAFImhN-6-46LISh7T06k_WkoyI2VUv4

Meanwhile, last week I was also pretty shaken up. I found out last Sunday that there was a devastating car accident locally involving local teens. Unfortunately, now that my kids are also local teens, it also meant that we knew some of the people in the car and there was also that awful realization that we could also get a knock at the door at some point. I’m also a community-minded person and so I’m trying to be there for my friend and find out more about what our teens are up to. This incident has made me realize that while our teens are very well connected via social media and mobile technology, us parents are probably crashed out at home or happy to be catching up with a few of our friends and enjoying our own new found freedom without being aware of the undertow. I’m now applying my research feelers to this to get up to speed. I’m talking about brain speed here, not putting my foot down in the my Alfa Romeo.

Anyway, I’d better call it a day and crawl into bed.

This has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share.

Best wishes,

Rowena