Artist Kate Church's Dancing Fool in Saddle Shoes (I know I've busted that move a few times!)
Facebook just reminded me I have a birthday coming up. It’s one of those pinnacle numbers with a zero on the end, the start of a new decade, usually classed a monumental age. It’s a one foot closer, big stepping stone marker, (grave marker that is.) Just kidding, not.
I really should do something to commemorate the event instead of shrugging and calling it just another day. I think that lackadaisical attitude started with hubby away working and being alone on this so called special day. Without him I never felt like celebrating so I stayed home, watched TV and probably felt a bit sorry for myself. His birthday is actually the day after mine and we’d talk about doing something when he got home but once the day passes there’s really no thought to going back. This happened so many times our birthdays got overlooked, one year I even forgot to update the old number and was corrected months later by my son who heard me tell someone my age and interrupted me with the truth. I truly forgot, perhaps conveniently.
Hubby is out in Alberta and I can’t complain after he’s been out of work for most of the year and at this point we don’t have a clue when he’ll return but I won’t be alone because his brother and wife are coming for a visit. Terry is a pretty good substitute for my husband, they are a lot alike, and Carenie is a lot of fun so we’ll think of something to pass the day.
So then I got to thinking what I might like as a prezzie. We don’t usually exchange but I’m feeling selfish this year, after all it is the big six O. Hmmm. World peace is out of the question, I’ll have to shoot a bit lower, something more attainable.
So I thought and I thought and then I smelled smoke as my brain was grinding away trying to figure out what I might like, want or need, but I batted zero on all three. Is this what the big 60 brings me, turning into someone so practical my shopping days are done? Is it wisdom that tells me things don’t bring happiness and that I don’t need anything because I have everything I need? I can’t even come up with a like that I’d be willing to spend the money on when I have too much stuff already. And as for a want, well, I’d like my husband retired so I don’t have to be alone but that’s not in the cards at the moment. So what do I want, like or need for my birthday? Nothing? Well, I'd take being able to stay 59 for a while longer but that’s about it.
Well.....I suppose I wouldn’t turn my nose up to going dancing. I sure would love a bit of that. I’ve been exercising to music, not traditional stretching and movement but getting down and dirty on the floor, gyrating and hip swinging, busting a few moves, shakin that thing, boogying off what used to be my arse, it seems to be located further south these days, like around the backs of my knees. The pups sit on the sofa and stare at me wondering what kind of freak is going on. Jake somethings comes over for a pick up so we swoon together; he’s a wonderful dancer, smooth as Tennessee Whiskey.
I’m a fan of all genres of music. I go through phases when I hang on to a particular radio station for a bit, right now, all my favourites are coming out of hot country. I like the bluesy types and there are some raunchy ones that I could play all day, never tiring of the way they make me feel.
Girl Crush, You Look Good, Dust On My Boots, On The Pontoon, Tennessee Whiskey, The Fighter, Blue Ain’t Your Colour, My Church and Stay are to name a few. Next week it might be Hard Rock or Classical; some lively Mozart pieces are fun to get down too. Anyway, I’m shaken all over and feeling fine. I’d love to go dancing when hubby comes home if that can be arranged. Surely some place has music that’s not too far away cause I’m old and hate a long drive home and I like to limit the time away from the pups. Ah the memories of rug school. It was wild this year with cutting up the dance floor to the DJ on party night, could use some of that right now.
I dance about as good as I sing, all over the place, and I dance like everyone is watching and I don’t care. Anyone observing from the sidelines, backed up so I don’t accidentally swing and arm or a leg and smack them, might think I have a dislocated hip and/or some sort of palsy but man, I’m happier than a pig in a mud puddle when I’m on the dance floor cuttin a rug! Perhaps the fumes are still in my head, I just finished the apartment floor and feel a bit high from the oil based varnish. Maybe I should lie down for a bit. Perhaps I shouldn’t write when I’m this tired and under a chemical influence.......
To see more of Kate Church's art click this link: www.katechurch.com
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