Letter from Amanda
Dear Lyceum, Can You Dance?
As the person in the household most responsible for keeping the cupboards filled and the dinner table supplied, I’ve learned when to go to the supermarket (early in the week) and when not to (the weekend); and to make a shopping list that runs in the order of the aisles. I’ve learned who delivers, from milkmen to florists; and who does but shouldn’t (the supermarket again – I think they’ve finally got the message that 53 isn’t that old and, lacking underlying medical conditions, I don’t really need to be on the priority list for home deliveries.
I didn’t expect, though, to be learning to dance. Anticipating the move of a fellow shopper as they round a corner, stepping back as they step forward; slow, slow as I approach the shelf that someone else is browsing, quick-quick to move in as they move in, slow again as we carry on down the one way system.
Even getting to the shop can be a carefully choreographed activity. I think my most satisfying movement was crossing the road before I came up with the slow-moving pedestrian on my own side, but after the jogger on the other side of the road had passed (giving careful consideration to the exhalation window). Easy, you say? Ah, but factor in a number 5 bus and my own desire to remain in the fickle Edinburgh sunshine for as long as possible and I promise you, Baryshnikov would weep with joy at the elegance of my steps.
53 certainly isn’t too old to be learning new tricks, and my dance moves are coming on a treat, catering for my locked down household!
Tags: From Audience