I can almost guarantee you, lovely dancers: this post is not going to be what you are expecting it to be. Maybe even a little random. But I’m sure it will be worth the read.
On Friday afternoon, I arrived at our first outreach location, approximately 15 minutes early. Hurriedly, I strapped on my pointe shoes, pinned myself into a tutu and spent a few minutes warming up. The catch?
My darn, darn sore throat.
I woke up with it on Friday morning, and even after several doses of cinnamon and honey, along with my parents’ declaration that my brothers and I were in for a massive surprise after my second performance, I felt no better.
But I’ve never missed a performance in my life, and I surely wasn’t going to start now.
Training 3 was the second group to perform. Reassuring myself that my throat was, in fact, NOT bleeding, I tip-toed onto the dance floor, smiling as best I could at the elderly ladies before me. “Silent Night” began, as I racked my memory for the right steps. Nothing. Thankfully, my sixth sense kicked in, and I found myself dancing anyway (in-line with the right choreography, I might add). Near the end of the piece, we were all a tad surprised to find an entire section of our song cut, but we proceeded accordingly.
Back in our make-shift dressing area, the first words which came out of our mouths were, “That failed.”
Despite our feelings about the performance, my mom’s camera shows otherwise. I guess we were all overreacting. Besides– when it comes down to it, we made a house-full of elderly people really, really happy. And that makes me smile. 🙂
On our way to the second nursing home, I started sucking on a hard piece of I-don’t-know-what that my dad had given to me, to sooth my throat. With that, somehow, I managed to make my mouth bleed [for real]. I was not too happy.
By the time we located our second outreach post, I was feeling really awful.
Had it been up to me, I would have stayed and performed. My mom, on the other hand, was concerned for the elderly folks, and she eventually talked some sense into me by reminding me of my own great-grandmother (almost 99 years old). Heartbroken, I told Ms. Tina that I would have to go home. She was extremely understanding, however, and told me to go and get some rest. She’s the best.
Tears were shed on the ride home, to be sure. I felt terrible, leaving my sisters to fill in a series of gaps which I was supposed to cover. I felt like such a quitter. And I am NOT a quitter.
But I really hate to dwell on bad news, so what about that surprise, anyway?
I went home, changed, ate a sandwich and hopped back into the car for a 40-minute ride to… well… I didn’t know where. That all changed, however, when we pulled up to a house in which there was a dog– a dog!– in every window.
No. Way.
I hadn’t really, TRULY allowed myself to believe that my family was getting a puppy for Christmas until that very moment. My eyes almost popped out of my head.
Gauge is an AKC certified German Shorthaired Pointer. He is three months old, and his favorite activity is cuddling up in a ball and sleeping on your lap. Not only is he going to make a great bird dog, but he’s already the perfect family dog. I love him. <3
So, why did we get him early? To put it simply, my parents didn’t want to drive on Christmas, or even Christmas Eve. They just wanted us to enjoy having a puppy. I certainly am.
Today, we took a full-family photo shoot for Christmas cards. Do enjoy our blooper shots… 🙂