All posts filed under: Humour

Silver Lining for Mature-Aged Swans

Just when I thought my dancing days were dead and buried, along comes my ballet teacher friend to invite me to a mature-aged ballet class. Silver Swans, to be precise. Not dying swans, note, but Silver Swans. Swans past their prime as it were—swans who perhaps missed their balletic boat and now want another crack at it. I jokingly asked if I could wear a tutu or pink tights and leotard, but my friend assured me that the dress code was comfortable exercise gear. My Lululemons and Kmart t-shirt would suffice. There was clearly more stretching than staggering ‘en pointe’.  I invited my tall, slim and slightly Margot Fonteyn-ish friend to come along for support, although she warned she was ‘lomp’ which is the English equivalent of clumsy. I was secretly delighted that someone would be slightly less coordinated than me. It’s always good to be accompanied to any new exercise class by someone who has even a vague inclination to fall over. That said, my own dancing prowess was, quite frankly, questionable. My last foray into …

Lost for Words

Words I fear, are dearly departing. Not permanently in a sinister, deeply sad early-onset Alzheimer’s sort of way. I mean temporarily. Going AWOL for a few minutes then reappearing with wanton abandon, casually, as though they hadn’t disappeared in the first place. Their nonchalant “Gotcha!” reappearance can be while I’m in the shower, driving or performing some random task. They’ve been known to pop up while eating chocolate or while seeking out another word entirely. It’s that random – a game of hide and seek where they’re always doing the hiding. It hasn’t always been like this. Words would momentarily disappear for long enough to say, “Ummm …” and back they’d pop. With dependable regularity. But now? They get lost in transit. They worm their way to the back of my brain and have a fat party before deciding to return. In the writing game, this does not bode well. It’s not as though any old word will do. Sometimes it’s the elusive one that I want, not a stand-in imposter. So I increasingly turn …