This is crazy, I know. I am doing a rather random writing of miscellaneous memories. I am looking for the list to give some structure to this process.
Dancing. I know I was small, maybe first grade, when I started taking ballet and tap lessons at Clareta Gear dance studio. Her studio was in her home part of the time, but I don’t it was when I began. She had a son Alan’s age who was a friend of Alan’s. Her daughter Jane and I were the same age and we had a friendship of sorts at times in our lives. But we were oh-so different. She had been dancing since she was a baby and she was a star. Her brother was, too, I think. I loved to dance and did my best. I loved the recitals and my mother always was great at making the cute little costumes. I think I still have some of those little costumes. Somewhere along the way I also took baton twirling lessons at school in the evenings for one session.
I went through a spell of asthma when the doctor didn’t know what to do with me except have me stop all physical activity that could set off an asthma attack. I was told I have stop dancing and I believe I was excused from most gym classes. It was probably very poor advice, but that was the treatment at the time. Alan had great difficulty with asthma as a young person, also.
Perhaps it was a year later the doctor said to gradually try activities again. As a side note, I don’t know what it had to do with asthma or a year of laziness, but I was always the slowest runner in my class unless Kathy Jo VanHorn, who was obese, was there. I mean there would be a 50 yard dash and some kids would be really fast, then the rest of the class, then a big space and finally me. If Kathy Jo was in my class that year there would fortunately be another space so I was quite a bit faster than she was. Now my heart goes out to Kathy Jo, but then I was not pleased to be in her category.
When I went back to dancing lessons Mrs. Gear complained that I hadn’t been practicing and wasn’t ready to dance with the class. She threatened to put me in with the Kindergarteners. I was horrified. I could not understand how she thought I could have practiced when the doctor had told me not to dance. I remember my dad got a piece of wood and put it in front of the phonograph player so I could practice tap to the music without damaging the carpet or turning the music very loud. Of course back then there was a real problem if you danced a little heavy because the needle would jump. I remember trying very hard to catch up, but, as with other challenges in my young life, I felt I was a failure at dancing because of the criticism of my teacher. I soon decided I could never dance and did not continue with lessons.
I know that another challenge was rhythm. In first grade we played a rhythm game to learn something. We were supposed to clap together and then in turn around the circle, on the beat, we were to say our name and then other answers on subsequent rounds. I just had no idea how to stay on the beat. Later when I went to churches or concerts that invited clapping to the music I would always avoid clapping because I could not get on the beat. Early in our marriage Jim got a synthesizer. He would ask me to experiment with all the buttons and settings while he played fabulous arrangements. But it had to be on the downbeat. As hard as I tried I could never figure out where the downbeat was, so I made the music worse instead of better.
After we were married Jim asked many times for us to go dancing. He had an idea about box steps from somewhere and of course he really understood music and rhythm. I was terrified. I knew I would make a fool of myself. I had no desire to dance anymore. Over and over in many different situations he would ask me to dance and I would not. At weddings with dancing there would be many awkward moments because no matter who asked I was too panicked to dance. There were some other issues I had with men that added to the stress, especially if there was a chance I would have to dance with a stranger.
When Andrew took ballroom dance as a gym class in college he would come home and beg me to dance with him in the kitchen so he could practice and enjoy what he had learned. I would not. I told him I couldn’t get the beat.
When we knew that Greg was getting married and would have dancing at his wedding and we expected that Andrew and Rebecca would marry in the next few years and we KNEW dancing would be a big part of their wedding festivities.
Finally, February 2005, I believe it was, I gave Jim a Valentines gift that really changed our lives. I gave him an introductory dance lesson package and my willingness to go with him to these lessons. I talked with the director of the dance studio, telling her I didn’t think I could learn because I had no rhythm. She assured me they had taught lots of people to dance that had no rhythm. Jim and I both thought we would know how to dance if we made it through the two private, two group and one practice party lesson. I felt like I was going kicking and screaming only because I knew it meant so much to Jim. When our intro package was finished we realized we needed a few more lessons so we reluctantly (or at least I was reluctant) signed up for the beginner package that was six weeks of lessons but were certain we would be finished and know how to dance if we did that. We were told of the competitions, shows and medal system and thought it was silly that any normal person would want to be a silver or gold dancer and have people watch them on the dance floor.
In the process of our second set of lessons we were asked to check out or prove we knew the bronze I steps in 2 dances. Once again I was terrified. But we agreed to do it because it would be a way to measure the value of the lessons. When we came in the day we had our checkout “exam” I was shaking with fear. Suddenly I said to myself, “Why am I afraid of these teachers? We are paying them! We are not paying them to make us miserable – we are supposed to be having fun.” So I decided to just smile and have fun. Furthermore we had experienced a few chances to go out and dance and realized that we didn’t have much to dance to most of the music. So we decided to just keep going and enjoying dance lessons as long as we were having fun.
You might say the rest is history. We danced in Showcases (like a recital), medalist balls and looked for more and more chances to go out and dance. We made many wonderful friends through dancing. We are progressing through the Bronze levels and one level from Silver in some dances. When we moved houses after 30 years on of our criteria for a new home was room to have a practice dance floor in our home. We have been enjoying little dance parties in our home for almost a year now.
Besides the fun we are having there are many ways we have grown through dancing. It is so good for us and our marriage to be learning together as well as the new hobby we share that has filled our empty nest with fun. It is good exercise and even better exercise for our brains as the body moves to music while remembering patterns and techniques. I have grown in grace and confidence. And some beautiful new clothes.
Now I have a new motto
Keep dancing
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
In the beginning (of my life!)
I was writing things that should be written down on a computer every week. Then we got a new computer and we thought we copied important stuff like that. Now we don't know where it is. :-( How sad!
So what if I write such things every week on a blog - then it can't get lost so easily.
Here we go-
In 1950, shortly before I was born, my family - Mom, Dad, and brother - Alan, was trying to move into a new house in a new little town close to Denver, CO. Now that little town has grown to become a large suberb of Denver. Then there was space between it and Denver.
But the house was not ready. Along I came. My mother had days when she would put me in a little cradle in the car and take me to the new house to sleep in the car while she worked on the house. I guess this was an early kind of sweat equity. I am fairly sure she told me they wanted a particular treatment of the basement outside walls - waterproofing spray and then the soil packed really well and sloped away from the house. This was not done properly by the builder and this was, I believe, one of the projects that was done before I was six weeks old when we actually moved into the new house. I am fairly certain that other projects during that time included painting, finishing hardwood floors and then, of course, moving in.
Alan was four years old. I guess he thought it was acceptable that I was around, though I doubt he was thrilled. I believe my dad was selling insurance at the time. My mother was thrilled to have a girl and a boy at this time. For a long time my family had only one car. My mother was a stay-at-home mom at the time which was by far the most common status of mothers of young children at that time. I believe that my mother must have taken my dad to work sometimes so she could use the car. I also remember occassionly we had to get a taxi home from walking to the grocery store. It was one thing for the three of us to walk to the store, but to bring home all the bags of groceries was another thing. I would probably not have such distinct memory of riding the taxi home from the grocery store except that once we did that and the Taxi driver was impatient and irritable. He didn't want to wait for or unload/help with the groceries so Mom just asked him to set the bags (paper, of course, back then) on the front porch. The driver grabbed bags from the trunk and dropped them on the porch and took off. As Alan and Mom were taking the bags in (I think I was too small to carry such things.) they noticed that one of the bags was full of syrup and broken glass. Boy, Mom was not happy with the Taxi arrangement that day! It may have been honey or something, but in any case it was in a broken glass jar that had been dropped too heavily on the porch. I don't recall if we ever rode the taxi after that. I do remember that Alan and I walked many times to the store - one sort or another. There was one in particular the was called "the Handy". I guess it would be like a convenience store, now. Just a small general store on Colfax. I am sure we were sent there on important errands from time to time, but I only remember the important thing was if we earned some spending money we could buy candy!
But back to the beginning. The new neighborhood and new house when I was an infant would be our family's home through the time I was growing up. They started building a new home after I had been overseas and moved in after I was married. But it was a nice family neighborhood and was the second house from the corner. Across that street was the elementary school where we would attend. There were neighbors my family had left in the north Denver neighborhood, especially Shirley Highland and her family. But new friends were made in the new place. Hadsells, Culvers, Thomas', Sonlightners, There was even another family down the street with out last name! I remember once we got mail or a message or something that was for them. I was asked to take it to "Tom", who was a very tall grown son (maybe in High School) in their family. I rang the bell and a woman came to the door. I asked for Tom and she said, "Big Tom or little Tom?" I knew this guy was huge, so I said, "Big Tom!" Then this father-aged person came to the door so I had to explain that I needed to give a message to the son, Tom, who did not seem to me he could possibly be called "little Tom!"
At the time of my birth my father's parents were no longer living. My mother's father was living, I believe in Illinois. He was married to Helen, but my mother's Mother had died when my mother was young. I always liked Helen a lot, but she never would let us called her Grandmother, because she felt she had done nothing to earn that title. My grandfather died when I was 4, I think.
Just for purposes of medical history - it may have been heart related issues that caused my grandfather to die when he did, but it was not an inheritable condition. He had been to the Dr. days before his hospitalization and told he was in excellent physical condition. Then he was in an elevator accident, where the elevator he was in dropped somewhat hard. Apparently it compressed his chest, not allowing his heart or lungs to expand and function properly. He died a few days later, I believe. This is jumping way ahead, but I may tell that story in my next blog, because it goes together with this story.
To Be Continued
So what if I write such things every week on a blog - then it can't get lost so easily.
Here we go-
In 1950, shortly before I was born, my family - Mom, Dad, and brother - Alan, was trying to move into a new house in a new little town close to Denver, CO. Now that little town has grown to become a large suberb of Denver. Then there was space between it and Denver.
But the house was not ready. Along I came. My mother had days when she would put me in a little cradle in the car and take me to the new house to sleep in the car while she worked on the house. I guess this was an early kind of sweat equity. I am fairly sure she told me they wanted a particular treatment of the basement outside walls - waterproofing spray and then the soil packed really well and sloped away from the house. This was not done properly by the builder and this was, I believe, one of the projects that was done before I was six weeks old when we actually moved into the new house. I am fairly certain that other projects during that time included painting, finishing hardwood floors and then, of course, moving in.
Alan was four years old. I guess he thought it was acceptable that I was around, though I doubt he was thrilled. I believe my dad was selling insurance at the time. My mother was thrilled to have a girl and a boy at this time. For a long time my family had only one car. My mother was a stay-at-home mom at the time which was by far the most common status of mothers of young children at that time. I believe that my mother must have taken my dad to work sometimes so she could use the car. I also remember occassionly we had to get a taxi home from walking to the grocery store. It was one thing for the three of us to walk to the store, but to bring home all the bags of groceries was another thing. I would probably not have such distinct memory of riding the taxi home from the grocery store except that once we did that and the Taxi driver was impatient and irritable. He didn't want to wait for or unload/help with the groceries so Mom just asked him to set the bags (paper, of course, back then) on the front porch. The driver grabbed bags from the trunk and dropped them on the porch and took off. As Alan and Mom were taking the bags in (I think I was too small to carry such things.) they noticed that one of the bags was full of syrup and broken glass. Boy, Mom was not happy with the Taxi arrangement that day! It may have been honey or something, but in any case it was in a broken glass jar that had been dropped too heavily on the porch. I don't recall if we ever rode the taxi after that. I do remember that Alan and I walked many times to the store - one sort or another. There was one in particular the was called "the Handy". I guess it would be like a convenience store, now. Just a small general store on Colfax. I am sure we were sent there on important errands from time to time, but I only remember the important thing was if we earned some spending money we could buy candy!
But back to the beginning. The new neighborhood and new house when I was an infant would be our family's home through the time I was growing up. They started building a new home after I had been overseas and moved in after I was married. But it was a nice family neighborhood and was the second house from the corner. Across that street was the elementary school where we would attend. There were neighbors my family had left in the north Denver neighborhood, especially Shirley Highland and her family. But new friends were made in the new place. Hadsells, Culvers, Thomas', Sonlightners, There was even another family down the street with out last name! I remember once we got mail or a message or something that was for them. I was asked to take it to "Tom", who was a very tall grown son (maybe in High School) in their family. I rang the bell and a woman came to the door. I asked for Tom and she said, "Big Tom or little Tom?" I knew this guy was huge, so I said, "Big Tom!" Then this father-aged person came to the door so I had to explain that I needed to give a message to the son, Tom, who did not seem to me he could possibly be called "little Tom!"
At the time of my birth my father's parents were no longer living. My mother's father was living, I believe in Illinois. He was married to Helen, but my mother's Mother had died when my mother was young. I always liked Helen a lot, but she never would let us called her Grandmother, because she felt she had done nothing to earn that title. My grandfather died when I was 4, I think.
Just for purposes of medical history - it may have been heart related issues that caused my grandfather to die when he did, but it was not an inheritable condition. He had been to the Dr. days before his hospitalization and told he was in excellent physical condition. Then he was in an elevator accident, where the elevator he was in dropped somewhat hard. Apparently it compressed his chest, not allowing his heart or lungs to expand and function properly. He died a few days later, I believe. This is jumping way ahead, but I may tell that story in my next blog, because it goes together with this story.
To Be Continued
First post
Well, I probably should not have started this - at least not right now, because there are so many other things I should be doing. I just looked at the kids blog and made a comment and it required me to log in. Before I could make a comment as "annonymous", but no more! So, since I had an account and had to go to the trouble for that I thought I would put something here.
I have enjoyed and appreciated so much the posts of both kids and families who blog. That is why I thought I would do this. I don't have nearly as interesting things to say.
Today I thought I would mention the new Bible Study I am in. It is called Kerygma which means "the whole writing" in Greek. That is actually not the exact translation, but I am excited about the study because it does not just emphasize one book, but goes through the entire Bible multiple times in themes. So, for example, God loving us is a theme that runs all the way through the Bible and we will study that theme and how the Bible is woven together with His love messages. Hope, rightousness, leadership and many more themes, but I have just begun. I am sure I will mention this study some more.
If you want to know a little bit more about Kerygma you can go here. http://www.kerygma.com/
Well, that is a start, isn't it?
I have enjoyed and appreciated so much the posts of both kids and families who blog. That is why I thought I would do this. I don't have nearly as interesting things to say.
Today I thought I would mention the new Bible Study I am in. It is called Kerygma which means "the whole writing" in Greek. That is actually not the exact translation, but I am excited about the study because it does not just emphasize one book, but goes through the entire Bible multiple times in themes. So, for example, God loving us is a theme that runs all the way through the Bible and we will study that theme and how the Bible is woven together with His love messages. Hope, rightousness, leadership and many more themes, but I have just begun. I am sure I will mention this study some more.
If you want to know a little bit more about Kerygma you can go here. http://www.kerygma.com/
Well, that is a start, isn't it?
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