To the Song's They're Playing on The Radio

Little known fact: I am in fact a fantastic dancer.

My Children amazingly have inherited my abilities on the Dance Floor. Boy likes to strutt his stuff, where as Toolibelle, will treat the public only to carefully choreographed performances of Single Ladies. So far this has been done on Ferries, Waiting Rooms, Fields in Arran, Duke of Edinburgh Hikes, and multiple Bedrooms.

This certificate dates from 1970, when I was but a mere slip of a child. I danced my famous "dance of the christmas box", where my acting skills were second to none, well second actually to the girl I was dancing with, but I enjoyed my methodology. I also danced an interpretation of a Squirrel preparingn for hibernation. I was a forerunner in expressive dance.

I lived through Disco in the late 70's, dancing the Saturday Night fever strut BETTER than John.

I became a Romantic in the 80's and posed seductively to tracks which no constructive dancing could be performed to, and it's very hard to interpret ANY Duran Duran song, without looking like a complete perv.

Every week you would find me on the floor in Pebbles, or the Anchorage, literally, I had a tendency to drink too much and fall over. I had chaps who liked to jive around spectacularly too, so I was never short of a show off.

Those were the days!

When you marry someone who hates to dance / can't dance, expressive art becomes a bit stiffled. I therefore found a new outlet for my expressive art. TAP!

I enrolled at a new dance class and excelled. I forced my family to come along and dance with me. My mother nearly had a stroke. My sister gave up because it was complicated. The pride of my time dancing together was my daughter and I on stage dancing to "Don't Rain on My Parade".

My daughter only gave up, because she didn't have enough hours in the day to cope with my level of commitment.

My enthusiasm for tap knew no bounds. I insisted we did jazz hands at the end of each routine, and I always inserted "freestyle", wherever I felt the dance required improvement. My squealing with joy over the top of the music, made the whole class echo. I knew the School loved my input. I bet they were sorry when I gave up.

Only last week, I was browsing the milk in the supermarket, and I was greeted by "Oi you, It's the mad woman from the Tap Class".

Yip that's me!