Lets see . . .

I'm busy doing:

Algebra and Grammar every other day.

Learning a duet with Michaela (piano and recorder) . . . um interesting, although it technically should work out, we just each need to learn our parts better

Choreographing another dance, everyone thought I was crazy, until the realized what a genius idea I had. : )

Listening to books on tape.

Reading (pretty much anything)

sitting out in the sun

waiting for the Watts to come home

editing 600 photos a friend took of our Irish Dance performance.

creating desktop backgrounds with the photos (or at least, that is the idea, I'm not doing so well. It isn't working very well.) I did manage to create one.)

Oh, and attempting to write poetry on our Irish Dance performance (not going well AT ALL, no matter how many lovely ideas I have in my head.)



Perhaps I can had more to this post later.

Okay, here is my poem. Thanks for your idea Lindy, it really helped!!



Dance

This is dance,
Hard, exhausting, painful,
we have sore muscles,
we have pain.
But, we also
fly
we skip,
we flow with the music.
Big leaps,
high jumps,
little pitter patter skips.
Cuts and hops and whips
and points, Jump two threes, pull backs.

A moment of floating
before we tough the ground again,
to take off,
and float,
for another moment
together, floating.

or,
we dance,
in rhythm,
in beat,
in time.
We are dancing,
with energy,
with the music.
We tap, we click, we stomp.
We hop and we jump.
Here, synchronized
is the key.
We dance,
strait and tall and proud
Our feet flash and fly,
together
we add to the music
shoulder to shoulder,
hand to hand,
we jig and we reel.

We are always caught up in the music,
until it ends,
we bow,
and realize,
our legs are throbbing,
we are out of breath,
or faces are hot,
our hearts beating in our head.
But we danced,
and danced well.
And that was all we needed,
all that mattered.