Purple tutus and balancing balls

As a child I was useless at sports. I was not on any sports teams or ever won a race of any sort. Not that I didn't try, but I am seriously challenged in the speed stakes. So when I started aquajogging, which should really be called aquasizing, but its too much of a mouthful, I had no hope or dream that I would be a ball wielding superstar. World famous in the pool at Otorohanga. I can do all sorts of amazing feats of dexterity when surrounded by water and several ladies who are even more speed challenged than I am. So this week Trent, the trainer, set us a task. Knees stuck together, tippy toed shuffle down the length of the pool and back. I can only assure you that the glutenous maximus muscles were burning by the time we finished. Then flat footed, knees locked, arms straight out to the side ... with a kick board on the head and a ball balanced on the top, shuffle down and back .. new set of muscles burning. If the ball fell into the water then you were required to do 20 star jumps as penance. I don't know if it is that I dislike star jumps or that I have superb balancing skills, but yes, I am the officianado of the ball balancing ladies. Much hilarity of course and the more the ladies laughed the more star jumps they needed to perform. I got home and required a good herbal rub to ease my poor aching muscles! Oww. More of the same next week! Yay. No idea if I am doing my body any good with the regime, but I am no quitter and so onward and upward balancing a ball on my head again and again.

Maybe it's that I watched countless ladies in Zululand balance all sorts of odds and ends on their heads for miles and miles, over hill and dale, that I am now able to balance stuff. I could moonlight as a seal in the circus? Oh that is right, no more animals in the circuses. Can't say I was ever a fan of animals balancing on things or doing tricks, but who would pay money to watch me I wonder? Could I get rich busking on the street? Maybe not. I did suggest to my grandkids that if they wanted money for Christmas gifts that they should learn a few ditties and stand on the street corner and sing for money. That suggestion went down like a lead balloon with the parents! Perhaps they would prefer the balancing trick to singing? Watch out kids, your grandma is just about to teach you all sorts of interesting circus stunts. It's always more lucrative to have children do things than an old grey haired bat like me looking ridiculous with a ball on my nose. Oh well, will have to find other ways to make a quick buck because even I am not that crazy to actually try busking. A youtube video? Oh heck no Pat, stop putting these silly ideas in my head. (Just in case you are wondering, yes, I am speaking to myself.)

I was chatting to a lady over a glass of milk and a cookie this week.... she had coffee and I was complaining because the milk was that watered down stuff that tastes like frog urine. It reminded me of when we bought our milk from Wood and Raw farm in Empangeni all those years ago. The cream was thick on the top, the milk was delicious and the colour was gorgeous. I could write sonnets to milk like that. Anyhow sometimes the milk had a strange taste caused by the cows eating khaki bos. The farmers these days are careful to limit the food the cows eat, but yes, this cup of milk was worse than khaki bos milk. And yes, I did drink it all because I am good mannered and didn't want to waste what I had poured! My coffee drinking mate suggested I dilute the milk with coffee or tea, to which I replied that I drink neither of them and horrible as the milk tasted, it was much preferable to caffeine glugging. (Sorry to the caffeine drinking crowd) The conversation changed to what other bad things we put in our bodies, like alcohol and cigarettes etc. I remembered buying a packet of cigarettes when I was 17 years old when I wanted to look 'cool'. I took a drag of the first ciggie and then let it burn out between my fingers trying to look like I was sophisticated and mature while trying not to choke on the smoke. I have no idea what happened to the rest of the packet, I just know that I decided that smoking did nothing for me. I still looked like a young 17 year old, desperately shy and unsure of herself.

I would go to parties around the district and my mates would go off to drink alcohol, smoke cigarettes and wacky weed while I found myself a comfy chair and dropped off to sleep, music blaring some head banging noise making no difference to my circadian rhythm. It was no use me trying to date the guys in our group. They were almost all related to me in some way. That is the sad tale of living in a small town. And I had no desire to do the hill billy thing of kissing my cousins! I would wake up around 5 am, shake my friends awake and take off home in time for a shower and dash off to work. Unfortunately, many people thought that my staying out all night meant that I was up to some nefarious business. Nefariousness was never in my nature and I just wanted to fit in. I did grow out of this phase of life as we all do. I was unscathed, untouched and totally innocent by some strange quirk of fate. Yay to that.

Sadly I am no longer that innocent young girl, now I am a much older, much sillier granma with dreams of sugar plum fairies prancing on street corners being showered with coins to pay for all the Christmas presents I could wish to buy. Yes folks, I am thinking of Christmas already. We leave for a nice holiday soon and I will try to buy some small odds and ends while away ... but my husband seeing the glint in my eye has warned me of the size of my suitcase and his dislike of bulging bags. Maybe I should utilize my balancing skills and hide my purchases in a very large hat. Do you think the air service staff will be fooled? I could have a towering creation on my head that could be cobbled together to embrace all my festive gifts. Oh well, no, I might just end up on youtube as the silly granma at Sydney airport with things falling out of her hair ... I can just imagine myself scrambling under chairs and between frantic feet to chase after rolling balls and purple tutus. Okay maybe people will pay money to laugh at that!