It is a big travel weekend, I could tell when I got several calls from out-of-towners willing to try the local ballroom dance night. The Porters came from the North Shore where they study with my colleague from Dance Teachers Club of Boston Tina LaFlam - great name, sort of like Mary French, a name with a certain ring, maybe just the echo of continental European culture.
I took a drive out to Stockbridge because my Uncle Peter came to visit and admired the changing of the maple colors - those brilliant reds are often sugar maples, and the pinky orange, swamp maples.
My sister and I hiked a small mountain and discussed the use of the "foam roller" to relax the Ilio-tibial band running along the outside of the thigh.
Home to my dance - nice turnout, lovely folks.
A drink at Grumpy's afterwards. Chasing Blues was a Cajun band complete with stand up bass and banjo, no drums. We sat out the songs that sounded like we should dance the Crippled Chicken, but stood up for the Tennessee Waltz, handed out a card to a PhD candidate from Woods Hole, and went home.
Next month's dance will be a bigger deal. November 1, right on the heels of the Cotuit Costume Ball, I have the St Barnabas Church Parish Hall - twice as much set-up and clean up.
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