Blog Posts, Menopausal Mutterings

Quite a senior moment!

He left without me!!

I know things have been less than normal of late, and maybe Mr D could be forgiven for ‘being out of his routine’. But surely some things you just don’t forget!!

After a 16 month absence, our dance class restarted last night. We packed our shoes, wondering how they’d feel after months of wearing slippers, trainers, and flip-flops! I was bravely hoping my post-lockdown feet would fit into my heeled dance shoes. Anyway… we’re not there yet.

As the evening sun was still high in the sky, and the temperature around 25 degrees C, he decided we’d drive to class in his car… topless! Yes! One of the few days of the year when owning an cabrio pays off. So off he went to open up the car, let the heat out, and press the magic button to open the roof.

Meanwhile, I packed our dance bag. Shoes x 2? Check. Water bottles x 2? Check. Half time tea and biscuits? Check. Under normal circumstances we wouldn’t need to take half time rations, but as the village hall kitchen remains closed for now, it’s a case of bring your own. And with that, we are ready to go.

I step outside to an empty driveway. Where’s the car? I looked up and down our street but nothing. Then my phone pinged to let me know that Mr D had left home! Really?! Yup. Gone. There I am, standing at the bottom of the drive, dance bag and mask in hand, but no dance partner.

I was just about to call his mobile, when I heard a car approach at speed. Yes, you’ve guessed it. Mr D, top down, minus me, and looking slightly sheepish.

It’s perfectly understandable to forget our dance steps, but to forget to take your wife with you (and the shoes and snacks) is most definitely not. As it turned out, we are still Tango King and Queen. A little rusty, but still got it! Unlike Mr D! It will be some time before I let him forget this!!!

Cath xx

Blog Posts, Prompts

JusJoJan 27th – letting loose the inner unicorn

As you know (well those of you who read yesterday’s effort) Mr D and I were out at a Burns Supper dance. As the resident Scotsman in our dance club, he was called upon to deliver the address to the Haggis. He was dressed in full Highland dress, kilt, hose, gillie brogues, sporran and, of course, a nice shiny Skean Dubh (aka the wee knife down the right sock!) with which to dispatch the poor wee Haggis.

Giving him the once-over before we left home, I was struck by how dazzling Mr D can look in formal dress, especially the kilt.

Not to be outdone, I unearthed my dark red velvet corset, the kind that’s designed as outwear. Normally I would have an outfit chosen at least the week before and tried on in case the clothes shrinking fairy has been on the loose. Not this time. DIY prevented me having easy access to my usual couple of dance club dresses. I was winging it!! Careful adjustment of the back lacing, much wriggling (thank you yoga) and I was in… sort of.

Mr D had to lend a hand to pull in the lacing, tie it off and hide it up the back. Unable to slouch or bend forward, getting the rest of my outfit on was a little tricky. However, it was worth it. When Mr D and I walked into the dance hall, one of the more senior couples declared us to be ‘a right pair of Bobby Dazzlers’.

Mission accomplished.

Today’s sparkling prompt, dazzle, is supplied by Debbie and hosted by Linda G Hill. Why not visit both of them and give them a follow.