What she looked like during the day...

Please notice that the curls artfully hide the burn mark on my forehead from a curling iron mishap...

FiddleMoose

Blue Moose and the Unbuttoned Zippers would not only be a great name for a kids book, it's also a great band. I heard them tonight at the contra dance. They were fun and energetic, if a little too old-timey and a-rhythmic for my tastes, but the dances were good, and once I got past the initial horrible Glenside partnering thing, I had good partners. And there were moose! Like this one:

Playford Aftermath, Part 2

Tonight was our last Swarthmore class of the semester. I'm so proud of my gang this year - lots of good dancing and the promise of more in the future. A whole bunch came to the Playford ball, including a few who started dancing this semester. Here we all are (Photo: Leonard Lu):

This is a photo of current students, alums, and assorted hangers-on, of which I am one. Guilt by association I suppose...

Rachel Winslow sent me the picture below last night.

This one shows my dress from the back in full length. While the whole dress is great, and oh so purple, it's really the back that makes it. You can clearly see the silver ribbon trim, but not any of the 78 little ribbon roses around the neckline and hem. (Yes, 78. Ronnie, my dressmaker extrordinaire counted).

What's next, now that the ball is over:

-Holiday card-making
-Holiday shopping
-The inevitable dance program writing
-Chanukah party prep!!!

I love the prospect of having some time to do all of the above, and maybe even solve my (lack of) heating problem, and do some house stuff.

Let me know if you want to come play!

Playford Aftermath, Part 1

Every Fall, it takes forever to get to Thanksgiving, and after that time flies with the Philadelphia Playford Ball always the following weekend. And what with ball stuff, the house to clean and house guests to prepare for, oh, and regular work and classes, I don't know where last week went. But the ball has been and gone, and I'm about over the inevitable down that follows the great excitement of the weekend.

The pictures are filtering in, but here's what I looked like with my temporary hairdo and new Jane Austen dress:

Today and tonight were the attempting to get back to normal moments - work, errands, with the added bonus of knowing that the school year ends tomorrow night for me, and all other December things, with the exception of my latke party, are fairly low-stress events (okay, maybe I'm just in denial about making holiday cards).

Tonight the most exciting thing I did was buy space heaters in an attempt to make my room and Laurie's room less frigid in light of our radiators not radiating. These are fancy heaters with timers and thermostats and everything so we can be warm at key times, but not burn the house down. I have mine on now and between it and my laptop on my lap, warmth is not far away. Calling the heating company tomorrow.

And I'm determined to keep reasonable hours this week. Off to bed for me...

Sometimes we volunteer, or sometimes volunteering is thrust upon us...

I don't think anyone becomes a dance caller to make their fortune. I'm a dance caller for a number of reasons, but mainly because I want to help people discover the joy in dancing that I did at a critical stage in my life. And I'm beginning to hit this moment where I'm getting hired to do things. I love that.

But I'm also beginning to have these moments where ego meets reality, and it's left me with some dilemmas to puzzle through, mainly, is there ever a gig you say no to?

-I call for GCD once every couple of months. I get very little money for this, and it matters not at all. I love GCD with all of it's craziness. It's my home dance and I complain about it, but I support it, period.

-I teach at Swarthmore and get paid essentially a little gas and coffee money, and while in my head it's annoying because I know the college can afford more, I keep on because I love teaching in the college setting and working with the students, even though they think I'm old.

-I call for LCD this past weekend and make very little, but know going in that this will likely be the case. Fine.

-Any camp that hires me, if I'm that lucky, if they cover my travel, great. Call a dance out of town, ditto the travel thing, also great. Let's just hope I have the vacation time...

-Neffa. Total volunteer gig. I covet the opportunity every year, and fear that this is the year they'll say no.

All of these situations are clear in my head. And now I'm faced with a situation that I'm searching for reasons to say yes to.

-I won't get paid. I won't even get any discount on my admission.

-This year, I will have no teaching opportunity, just evening dance responsibility.

-It's for an organization I'm not a member of and don't have a reason to join.

-The organizers of the event don't think carefully about what goes into making a good, fun event for people outside their small circle of friends and admirers

On the other hand,

-This was my first camp, so I have some historical attachment to it

-Though none of my close friends will be there, there are lovely people I will enjoy seeing/dancing with/catching up with

-Though unlikely, there may be people with hiring power there which could lead to other gigs

-It IS nice to be asked to have a public role and remind people I exist in this genre from time to time, so maybe just suck it up and do it.

Sleep on it. Maybe it will be clear in the morning.

Happy 3rd Friday...

This evening was my favorite dance of almost any I go to: Perdue's, the 3rd Friday English dance.

As far as dances go, this one is an anomaly. The crowd is not gigantic, but is quite regular. It's not that there are no beginners, or less-familiars, but the crowd is generally knowlegable, and mostly quite advanced. The repertoire doesn't change much. There's not always live music (loving those old Disney and London Symphony recordings...). And the dance is special and magical in so many ways, has been happening for over 50 years, and these days on a typical Friday, attracts people from 3-4 neighboring states. And what's more, at this talk-through-and-go event, the caller doesn't expect that most people are even listening to the talk-through.

And we just dance. Sometimes the dance is silly. Okay, there are often wonderfully silly moments and alternate choreographies, but still great attention to interactions and intersections. And there's such joy in dancing with people who's movements you can anticipate almost to the moment. And when you're out at the bottom of the line, watching the clear pattern of the dance, and a whole line of people moving together emerge out of the chaos, you know exactly why this is home.

So much of my English dance knowledge comes from Perdue's. This is where I learned much of our local repertoire. This is why I can hear the opening bars of Miss DeJersey's and just go. This is a dance to write in on your calendar as soon as you get a new one for the year. This is a dance to rearrange your travel schedule around.

I have many clear Perdue's memories, from moving endless numbers of chairs to a rotating Fandango, but one memory in particular sums up my love of the dance in a nutshell. Many years ago now, I had a 3rd Friday evening work committment which, when I finally escaped, got me to the dance after 10pm, and in time to only do three dances. But it only took one, it was King of Poland, to relax me, to rid me of the craziness of the day, and to realign my brain from work life to real life - dancing.

You can just guess where I'll be every 3rd Friday I'm anywhere near Philadelphia...

Ceilidh, ceilidh, ceilidh!!!

This past Saturday, out local Scottish Branch held its first ceilidh dance. Of the main group, I wouldn't call any of us ceilidh dancers; we're country dancers who do or did the classes and the technique and all of that. But the goal was to throw a fun event and bring in beginners, and the plans went forward, and...

...And I really wasn't sure that anyone other than the usual suspects would show up, and they would gamely dance and we would eat our tea and go home with hours still to kill on a Saturday night.

But it didn't go that way at all. It was a fun and successful evening and I think it's worth thinking about why and how it works.

-Put people in charge who like having a good time. With that alone, it's hard to go wrong.
-Get lots of people involved in the planning. Consult! It makes people feel needed and gives them a stake in the success of the evening.
-Get the word out - hang signs and balloons, send out press releases, offer to drive the students there
-Spread out the leadership responsibilites - give many people the limelight. We had the strengh and the variety of many callers. It worked and meant no one person had the stress and the responsibility of making things go.
-Mix it up. We didn't just dance. We did some dancing, we got some water. We had a song and more dancing, we broke for tea. This way, no one died in the sweltering hall or overdid it on the hard floor.

And more. And much to think about for next time, but the event was a winner. Thanks especially to Chrissy and Nora for making it happen. Definitely the start of something good...

Ole!

So there we were, aimlessly strolling about Old City, contemplating an evening of used bookstores, perhaps last minute tickets to Our Town at the Arden, something cheap for dinner, when we happened on the poster that set our course for the evening - Flamenco on 4th and Bainbridge. Perfect.

Though we strayed a bit too long at the Book Trader, we booked it down to the tiny Shubin Theater, and made it just in time. The attraction was Pasion y Arte, an all-women dance troupe. Fabulous, strong, passionate. Inconsiderate audience members aside, I was just blown away by the movement and the emotion.

One key element for me was that some of the dancers were mature women, not the norm in most dance performance settings. But it was thrilling to see these women dancing from their hearts and their years of experience, as if to say, "we've lived long enough to have something to dance about."

The passion in English dance largely comes from a connection to another person, assisted by the music. It's one that works for me. But the ECD dance form itself cannot come close to capturing the depth of feeling that these women were able to display through music, rhythm, costume and movement. It's amazing.

I may need to become a groupie.

Home again, home again, jiggety-jig...

Desperate not to recreate last weekend hellish drive home after Neffa, I raced out of Rochester right after the Ball, only minimally stopped, and made it home in under six hours. Pretty good, I'd say.

And the weekend was quite good in fact. I was dance mistress at the Country Dancers of Rochester's Jane Austen Ball.

It suddenly struck me as I was driving up to Rochester yesterday, that this was one of my first gigs where I really didn't know anyone in the community. Not true, of course, because I knew the folks who hired me and withwhom I was staying, and because the dance world is so small, I know/recognize people from Neffa or from other dances, but I'd never met/heard the band before, and I had no buddies in the crowd. And though I was equally unknown to them, I think I made good.

It was a lovely event. The hall is drop-dead gorgeous and with a good floor to boot. Pricey, I hear - too pricey to get on a Saturday night, but the tea dance format really works. And folks are into the clothes - gave me extreme dress envy. Though I have no concept if that style of dress would look like anything on me, I want one. Heck, I also want the perfect body to pull one of those off...

And my calling went well. The comment I get all the time is how clear my instructions are. Clear is the word people use over and over. This make me really happy, but also puzzles me a great deal. Why are other people not clear. Are they talking too much? Are they straying from the instructions and trying to be descriptive, but winding up being confusing? Nevertheless, the organizer was happy, and the dancers seemed happy. Working with the band was great, and I may even have gotten a few more gigs out of this!

And did I mention that all of the lilacs were blooming in Rochester. For that reason alone it would have been worth going!

This week I finally have several nights at home, and a weekend at home at last to look forward to. I must clean and do yard work, go to Lowe's, and maybe Ikea. But I am desperate to tackle the craft room and make some cards, including a thank-you card for my weekend host and hostess - something blue and white I think.

Huzzah for good weekends and good dancing, and a good night's sleep at the end of it all.

What were you doing as the sun rose this morning?

This shot could be from almost any year, but it was taken this morning at Belmont Plateau where more and more gather each year to welcome in the May.

We now have two morris sides, two longsword teams and a garland team. There were green men and a maypole dance for all.

May Day morning is always amazing. It's horrid getting up at the early hour, but you collect your coffee and arrive at Belmont Plateau while it's still a bit dark and get to watch the sun rising over the skyline, far removed from the city, but right next door... All this and you still get to work on time!

As I was driving home from work, it started to rain. This did not bode well for the Swarthmore may pole plan. But the rain stopped, and while not bright out, and admittedly damp, we danced around the Maypole with the dance that Jenny and I made up on the spot last year. It was great.

This picture is from last year. I think it was too dim tonight to take pictures. The current Swarthmore maypole was built last year afte Facilites Services lost, then found, then lost the Folk Dance Club pole. The only improvement might be if we could figure out how to secure the head to the pole so that it doesn't rotate with the ribbons. Maybe we'll work on that for next year. So, what May Day song was in your head all day today?

The morning after...

...was really rough. But that's what happens when you don't get home until 2 in the morning.

But I count it worthwhile. Neffa, that is.

When I worked at Pinewoods I got into the habit of trying not to expect the coming year or session to be as good as it was last year. Because, what if it wasn't? Then I would just be disappointed. I learned that if I didn't expect things, often I was pleasantly surprised.

Not that this always works, mind you...

Neffa is like that for me too. I always have a good time, and get excited by it and hope I have great partners whenever I want them, but try and not set that bar too high. And this year, what with the house being all consuming, I didn't have time to really dwell on Neffa anyway, or at least not too far in advance. And I had a great time and very many good dances and fun partners. I even did both contra medleys.

The most difficult moment for me was Saturday evening. I get very nervous after calling and after performances. Or not always nervous, but I have all of this adrenaline that I've built up that I need to do something with. Because calling for me is just another type of performance, and I want to get up there and put my whole self into it and carry the dancers all the way through until the end. And then it's over, and I get a bit crazy.

This year my two big things were too close together. We got through the GCD performance, and I hardly had time to turn around before I had to get myself together and do my prep to call. And calling at Neffa is such a big deal for me. It feels tenuous. I don't feel that I can mess up and get accepted to call again. I haven't earned that yet, and I'd miss not being able to do it. And for that matter, calling dances at Neffa is an important calling card - people see you from all over and might hire you to call their dance. So I called, and it wasn't perfect, but it was fine. But again, afterwards I had all of this excess craziness to get rid of. So I took a walk and had a coffee and found people to talk with, and all was well. But there must be a different way for handling this. Probably dancing immediately afterwards would take care of it...

And while I didn't dance with everyone I wanted too - a few very notable gaps in that list - I was able to have the aspects of Neffa I most enjoy - connecting and re-connecting, if briefly, with people I don't see often because we don't live and dance near each other.

And did I mention the fabulously wonderful Points of Etiquette were, in fact, fabulously wonderful. I hope we can get a team together to go next year!

There's undoubtedly more to say, but it will keep while I attempt to get to bed at a reasonable hour...

Neffa!!

It's almost Neffa!!! Only one dress and one demo skirt to go on the ironing board, and then the negotiation with myself about whether to go to sleep and get up early-ish in the morning to finish up, or slog through. I think I vote for morning, after maybe a half an hour more of stuff tonight.

But, yay!

The first year I went to Neffa, I was all at sea. I didn't know what to do with myself. There were so many people and many choices of activities. It was almost too much. But by the second year, Neffa felt like a necessity. Now it's one of the times of year I know I'll get in some good contra and a smattering of International dancing, see lots of people I don't see at any other time, have an opportunity to buy good music, jewelry and clothes (maybe not this year though), run into people in the halls, and on and on.

But if I'm going to get there, I'd better finish that ironing...

Back into the dance of things...

As Neffa is only two weeks away, it was more than time for Scott and I to plan our ECD session (Satuday, 8pm, Middle School Dance Hall. Be there.). We talked in brief Sunday night, and Monday I started going through materials and making lists. It was wonderful. Before that evening I felt that I'd hit a dance plateau - there were no new dances, and old ones were either uninteresting, or over done [by me]. Not so!

As I was going through books and notes, all of the sudden there was this whole list of dances that were jotted down in my notes, or the tune was in a binder, or it was there somewhere in the back of my brain, lying in wait, saying, "pick me, pick me." Dances for Amherst and Camp, and for the GCD new dance try-out session coming up in June.

I knew I was in this all-house-all-the-time mode, but it was good to be drawn back into this other world that I love, to be excited about the next program so I can pull out one or two of these potential gems.

It's not that the house is no longer primary. Indeed, I can't wait to pull it into shape so I can really enjoy it. But the house was part of the dance joy in some ways. There I was in my parlour, sitting in my grandmother's chair at the drum table in the window, perusing my notebooks, jotting down ideas. And it felt great. Right choice, Joanna.

A pain in the back...

Wonder of wonders, I came home from the dance tonight and found a parking place right away. That's because I left expediently, chasing after Andrew who tried to abscond with my shoe. [Full disclosure: I stole his shoe first.]

I remember Barbara often commenting about how right-hipped ECD was. Tonight, I finally know what she means. Still dealing with this back injury, I find myself compensating in various ways. One of those ways apparently involves my right hip. Not cool. But things are progressing on the injury front. I did some stretches this morning with no pain, and was able to walk to work with a normal gait. Sitting in front of a computer all day does me little good because the muscles get cold, but tonight, Rich gave me an all day heating pack to help keep the muscles warm. I'm excited. I may splurge and buy more!

I fear injury, of course because of the pain, but moreso because it curtails life, and most specifically dancing. Tonight I couldn't leap any where in Nonesuch, nor even attempt to reach the radiators to bang on them. I had to sit out Fandango, and really couldn't stride and make it during Winter Solstice. Bleh. I just want my mobility back. I want to bend down from the waist. I want to be able to put on socks and tie my shoes with ease. Soon. I will dance at the Fling this weekend!

Playing catch-up

It felt so renegade to go two days without posting... But life is settling down just a tad. Let's see, where to begin...

Friday night was meant to be a night at home - making my apartment look like a reasonable human lived there, cleaning up crafts stuff from the Valentine party, sorting through the never ending but reasonably up-to-date mounds of paper. But no, George called me and offered to buy me a drink, which turned into dinner and (I no longer turn down any free food), and then two of my Swarthmore kiddos came by for tea. A very nice celebretory evening that did not include much in the way of attention to the household.

Saturday morning brought a caller's meeting (yes, in fact it was my idea to schedule the meeting on ES Ball day), followed by errands followed by scant hours at home pre-ball. I did manage to reorganize the stamps and get them properly stowed (which takes a stupidly long time, but I now will be able to find them again), attack some of the piles, and oh yeah, pick out a dress to wear and iron same.

Saturday night was the Swarthmore English Scottish ball, which is one of my favorite events all year. Yes, I am working the event, but over all, I am overwhelmed with pride in my children. They pulled it together, and pulled it off. They gave stellar talk-throughs. The tea was plentiful, the music was great, and the hall was packed, even in the 2nd half. And I had a lovely waltz at the end...

I could instantly tell that my mood had shifted because of the house. Outside of my delight in this prospective house, the weight of the decision was no longer there, and I could move on to the next phase of practical planning, intense excitement, mingled with some fear about the lage process to come. But overwhelmingly, I am so thrilled. I am looking forward to this next chapter...

The practical house news... I handed over the first check to my realtor - the down payment towards my down payment. We still don't have an official signed contract, so I haven't gone ahead with making arrangements for insurance and inspection. I hope it happens tomorrow.

At J&K's post-ball brunch, in talking to people about the house, Jill mentioned that they have furniture, including a stove (albeit electric) I could have. Hallelujah!!! This will be wonderful. If that all works, I will put my loveseat upstairs in the front room (I think I'm settling on that for an upstairs parlor or somesuch), and move the futon upstairs as a guest bed. I want to see the furniture before I agree to take it, and Dan will help me figure out if I can fit it through the doorway.

I'm hoping that Mom and Deb and Eileen can come down this weekend to see the house. They can all come, but the only thing is whether we can get in or not. I don't know if that's now taboo. I've asked the realtor. I also want to go in and do some derious measuring and figuring out where I want to put stuff and which room should be what in the near term - which room should be the master bedroom, should I have a separate craft room from the office/parlour, which room should be the guest room. This is all subject to change as I start to figure out what changes I want to make - bathroom on the 3rd floor, dressing room for the master bedroom, closets that fit normal sized hangers, larger 2nd floor bathroom... Who knows? Dreaming is fun!

My future bookshelves...

I'll need lots of advice on furniture and artwork placement and possible wall colors, so plan on coming over lots!!!

Today was one of those insane days when I was literally home for 5 minutes. I was in Harrisburg all day, home to change, back in the car to get gas (I had none), run up to Mt. Aity, look at the house, become stressed, and then run back down the hill for the dance.

In particular, I remember another similar day years and years ago, back in the HPI days, when we had to wine and dine some board members, and all I wanted to do was get to the dance. I only made it for the last 3 dances at Perdue's that night, but what an absolute relief to dance King of Poland with Rich and not have to think about a thing. It was an utter return to normalcy after the craziness of the day, and put life back in its proper perspective.

This evening was like that. After the hell of the non-stop day, even knowing there would be more work to do at home after the dance, finally making it to GCD, with that part of my family all there, was a return home. And all it took was a few bars of Freeford Gardens, and catching eyes with the first woman to check in with me that we were covering on those turn singles, and all was well.

This is why, no matter what ups and downs I might have with GCD at any given moment, these dancers are still my home and family. To know that we move the same way, can anticipate reactions, and react to small gestures of warning or reminder to keep us on track - it's an amazing thing. Yes, like family, there are the spats and annoyances and middle children, and plenty to complain about, but at the end of the day, it's a community I'm proud to be a part of.

She's Back!

Oh, my public, all one of you, did you miss me?

I was being so good about posting daily that I hated to skip even once. But sickness won, and even had it not taken me over an hour to find parking last night, I still would've gone directly to bed after I got home. (Please note that parking is much more plentiful on E. Durham Street, and neighboing Boyer, without those pesky parking zones, meters, or anything like that...)

As it is, I'm hoping I'm over the worst of this cold/plague/ickiness that has me, she says, hoping her tea cools off faster...

Tonight I went to teach English dances from the ES Ball program to the Bi-Co Scottish class at Bryn Mawr. I was grateful for the pirate invaders that came along from Swarthmore class, and the few Bryn Mawr students I consider to really be mine, and Eleanor, of course, who is not only a great dancer, but who danced with many beginners.

It's so interesting to see the differences in that class from Swarthmore class, mostly I think because of how the classes are traditionally run.

Scottish classes in general, and Bi-Co habitually has been more on the authoritarian side - you will do this now in this way. In the past it's been almost eerie to go to that class and have all the students be so quiet, attentive, almost. Swarthmore is not like that. First Jenny, and now I encourage buzz, trying to appreciate what the students can offer each other. Heck, they might be able to teach each other a step, figure, or dance better than I could, and present a less threatening figure. (Although I hate to admit it, I know that I make a bunch of the students nervous. It takes them a few years to figure out that they can and should sass me back, and that's it's all bluff and bluster.) And I have to say, that idea of Jenny's to have the student's talk through the dance for themselves - it's just the greatest thing since sliced bread. So it's a little hard to regroup sometimes, but it's a friendlier, more open class in this way.

There are other differences too. One other is that at Bi-Co, people seem very concerned with getting it right. Dancers direct each other verbally all the time. Newer dancers are more concerned about knowing nothing. At Swarthmore, I think most people want to have fun. Of course, this produces fewer stellar dancers, but I think it produces more long-term dancers who will seek out dancing beyond school.

These observations, and there are others, are, of course, completely biased. If you can't tell, my children at Swarthmore are rowdy and many lack precision, but I love them and their enthusiasm. I wouldn't want them to be otherwise.

And one or more of them are always willing to shout to the class for quiet when I have a cold and no voice.